#Sullivan too I guess (love you)
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kristangers · 1 year ago
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WAKE UP THE GREATEST PICTURE OF ALL TIME JUST DROPPED!!!!
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buckets-and-trees · 6 months ago
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Big Conversation
Collection: Desperate to Devoted Characters/Pairings: Bucky x Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 1100 Summary: Life keeps moving forward, and so does the relationship that has completely turned around between you and Bucky, including how that will look now in your shared workplace.
Content/Warnings: fluff, new relationship feels
Author Notes: Week five piece for @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer - the prompt was "We're..." with friends with benefits, exes, and enemies to lovers as options - and ticking off TEASING to catch up on January for Build-a-Bucky Bingo.
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You were so immersed in studying the map and interpreting the data points on your screen with Conor that you didn’t notice the hush that washed over what was a typical hubbub of noise outside your office, or else you might have guessed someone with A Name in the agency had hit the floor.
Instead, it was the decisive knock on your doorframe that brought you out of deep concentration.
When your eyes clocked the Winter Soldier there, a warm smile split across your face. “Sergeant Barnes! Is it already eleven-thirty?” you asked, glancing down at your watch.
“Nearly,” he replied, smiling back, but you noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Eyes that were scrutinizing the man standing just over your shoulder.
“Bucky, this is Conor Sullivan.”
“I’m the director of the digital media analysis team,” Conor said, his Irish accent more pronounced than usual, and instead of straightening, he maintained the stance he’d adopted to look over your shoulder at the screens.
“I’m an Avenger,” Bucky offered.
You bit your lip to keep from giggling.
The posturing energy in the room was painfully palpable.
“We’ve been looking over the latest social media trends, crossing referencing that with reports we’re getting from some of our agents, and the leads Joaquin has been pursuing in Eastern Europe. The activity of the Flag Smashers is absolutely heating up again, and there’s some definite indicators that some potential leaders of the group may be circling in Tirana.”
“I look forward to the briefing – it’s always gratifying when a hunch my team has turns out to have traction,” Bucky’s words were slightly stilted. “Maybe we put something on the books for after lunch. Do you think your findings will be ready by then, Sullivan?”
“More than enough time, Barnes,” Conor responded.
“Even without this analysis mastermind?” Bucky asked, gesturing to you. “We have a date with HR at eleven-thirty.”
“A date?” Conor asked.
“Sorry,” Bucky quickly corrected, “I meant to say meeting.”
You tried to discreetly put your hand to your stomach to hold in the laughter. This was too much.
“We have a meeting with HR to officially disclose our relationship status,” Bucky further explained.
“Oh, I didn’t know,” Conor started, abruptly straightening.
“Of course not, you’re working with one of the most consummate professionals around, she’s never been messy in the workplace.”
“Not true,” you interjected, your cheeks heating slightly. “I used to be fairly passive aggressive and petty towards you.”
“But you did it in a way that you somehow always maddeningly remained above actual reproach,” Bucky said. “We’re one of those classic enemies to lovers romances for the ages. What do they call it now? End game? Like Taylor and Travis.”
You tilted your head, but you did not risk looking at Conor.
“Taylor and Travis?”
“Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce,” Bucky explained. “There was no animosity for them to overcome, but the true love, end game thing.”
“I… should let you get to your meeting, then,” Conor said, some reticence in his tone.
Bucky came further into your office and Conor passed him on the way out.
Bucky squared his shoulders and didn’t relax his intimidating gaze for one second, but Conor was formidable in his own right – only an inch shorter and with maybe twenty pounds less of muscle, the charming, blond, Irish man didn’t pass for someone who you’d expect to work the office side of things in this building.
“You used to date that guy?” Bucky asked two beats after he’d gone, a boyish, smirking grin on his face as he turned back to you.
“Two dates,” you reminded him, “only two dates, and it was more than a year ago.”
“What kind of name is Conor Brady? Could he be more Irish?”
You laughed. “Your names is James.”
“But I go by Bucky,” he countered, reaching out a hand.
You stood and stepped right up to him, twining your fingers with his. “End game?” you changed the line of post-encounter questioning.
Bucky tugged you close with the one hand, and his vibranium hand came up to cup your cheek. “We haven’t said it with those words, but that enemies wave we rode out? The ordeal just outside of Paris? The past six weeks with you since then? Unless you’re not convinced, I’m all in for the long haul.”
You pressed up on your tiptoes and kissed him in a blazing, euphoric heat. He returned the kiss, circling his arm around your waist while still keeping your fingers twined, and pressed your soft body against his chest.
You could kiss this man for an eternity, but you did finally press him away. “End game for me, too.”
“Yeah?”
The smitten smile on his face made you want to close your door and get to much more than kissing. The feelings that shone through his eyes made your heart swell.
“Yeah,” you affirmed and delivered a quick peck.
Everything with him had always been intense, strong, deep feelings. Now that they were rooted in care and affection, it only made you more sure every day since you’d finally broken down the walls and defenses that had been there before.
“That possessive streak looked good on you,” you teased, but he grinned.
“You like knowing you’re my girl?”
“That’s why we’re declaring our intentions to HR,” you said. “Now let’s go make it official, and then maybe I’ll show you in the back of your car just how much I like it.”
“Damn,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead briefly to yours. “I’m holding you to that.”
You kissed him again, just one more time.
Then you giggled.
“What?” Bucky asked, echoing with a half laugh.
“You really said enemies to lovers?”
“You loved it.”
“And Taylor and Travis?”
“You know I was there next to you when you were scrolling through video after video of London night three last weekend and then Dublin this weekend. I’m invested in them now, too. I can appreciate a man who unapologetically loves his woman.”
“Bucky,” you breathed, heart aching and swelling for this man. He smiled and pulled you out of your office, and you followed happily. He was everything, gave you all the shades you’d hoped to find, someone who was proving to be a true other half, and you couldn’t wait for the days and weeks and months and years ahead and all the ways he’d make you laugh, make you melt, and sometimes both at the same time.
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NEXT PART: Too Hot
We've come a long way from their start in Desperate, but I just... want them to be in love and happy and get to have fun moments now. I can't help it! 🫠
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
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nonbinarypirat · 1 year ago
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education vs. fascism in iruma-kun
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someone mentioned this in another post but iruma-kun does a wonderful job of showing that education is key to fighting fascist and harmful radical ideas. As soon as it became clear that things were going to change in the netherworld what was Sullivan's response? It wasn't "oh we need to send spies" or "we need to find the people" (though im sure people are working hard to find those answers) it was "we need to focus on educating our students." Because only knowledge and diversity in thoughts can combat fascist ideas. The issue only becomes worse with a lack of understanding and an echo chamber. And by doubling down with education, we can make sure our students are prepared for what lies ahead. Thats how we truly fight the power.
The teachers themselves can tell that things are changing. They stay informed and guess what? its obvious things are about to throw down soon. And so they work tirelessly not just because it's their jobs, but because they need to. this is their protest. this is how we can prevent the spread of gross rhetoric. And after Heartbreaker what they do? they double down on their education too. Because there is always something new to learn, always a way to grow/sharpen your strength. They too know that they can't stay stagnant, they must continue pushing to provide their students with the best chance of survival.
When you have villians that believe in these ideas in media, there's a big issue of them leaving out education as a weapon. But it's crucial if we want anything to truly change. Iruma himself wants to no longer be naive about the netherworld which was growing to be an issue the longer he stays. because yeah, you can't stay uninformed anymore iruma. its time to learn about the history of you new home and the leaders. taking being the king out of it, ignorance about these topics is a breeding ground for becoming complacent. iruma wants to be a hero? or at least, do the right thing when he can? that requires knowledge to make sure you aren't inadvertently hurting someone along the way.
Iruma loves the netherworld, the place he proudly calls home. but it's frought with danger and cruel people. And yet, Iruma is still proud of his new home and friends and wants to do anything he can to stay here. This reflects real life, where there is goodness and pride in the place you live and yet a faction of people who taint it with othering ideas. However, it's always worth fighting for the good overall and bettering yourself so you can see another tomorrow through. Iruma knows he can only protect himself and his loved ones is through learning. And I love Nishi for truly understanding this too. You can't fight fascism through pure will, it has to be beaten by education and the williness to better one's knowledge. That is how we will take back the Netherworld.
but yeah, this is just my little spiel as someone who loves educational activism and is going to school to become a teacher :). If i can find the original post I'll make sure to credit the op!
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kaiser1ns · 2 months ago
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love it when my fellow pals make deals with humankind. you are the cutest when it comes to temptations, saying how you won't give in but guess what ... you do give in and regret it later! well, i know dear ol' endo likes to make his deals not only to satisfy himself but also to help people like you see things from a different angle. i wish you the best of luck, my little puppet! oh, send him greetings from me when you see him, and now enjoy making deals with the devil.
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𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻!𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
DEVIL ALWAYS TEMPTINGㄑword count :: 9669 ▿ does it matter that the boy you appeared with at the party to make your ex jealous, is actually a demon hungry for deals and human souls. that sounds fun, right?
CHOOSE ANOTHER DIMENSION IN WEIRDMAGEDDON
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Friday nights were supposed to be fun and relaxing, you were supposed to be with your boyfriend sitting in front of a mirror, laughing and taking ridiculous pictures as you tried Halloween costumes together. He’d tease you about the silliest ideas you thought of like dressing up as peanut butter and jelly, or Sulley Sullivan and Mike Wazovski. You could still remember how his face lit up with that precious smile when he agreed to be a pirate and you as a siren. But tonight, you were the one drowning in tears of the deep ocean called love.
Instead of brightness and laughter, there was darkness and silence. The only light thing in your room came from the dim glow of your phone screen, showing how late it was, as you lay there on the soft mattress and now the weight of your thoughts pressed you down as hot tears escaped again. You wanted to stop crying, you were hurt and you couldn't open your eyes, you didn't even want to look at yourself knowing how miserable and pathetic you were right now.
Two weeks ago, Umemiya Hajime had ripped your heart from your body with a simple break-up and his reasoning was I’m sorry…I love you but I don’t feel the same anymore. It’s better to end this. We can always be friends, right? Be friends your ass, how can you still be something after everything that happened, after he broke up with you out of nowhere. The big party you'd been looking forward to was creeping up, and you had to show up … with a date. That was the worst part, you had to show up eventually if not with him at least with your friends. They were kind enough and tried to suggest people, but it felt forced and awkward. No one seemed to make a move on you, or they didn’t want to be your “pity date”.
And why would they? You were the one Hajime had dumped, the girl who wasn’t part of the perfect couple anymore. The butterflies were long gone and the pit in your stomach deepened every time you thought about that party, about him.
A big trash bag sat in the corner of your room, filled with reminders of the love that had once been around. Everything he had ever given you—every piece of clothing he bought because he thought you would look so cute, stuffed animals and merchandise, all inside ready to be thrown away. It hurt more than you wanted to admit. It meant so much to you, but you don’t need to keep memories from the past that will only add to this sorrow, and you knew better than to not dwell on the past for too long.
You could almost hear your friends’ voices amidst the chaos in your head telling you to get up, to find someone to go with. They said it was supposed to be fun, but fun was the last thing you wanted to experience as you had no date to go with. No one you knew wanted to go with you anymore because most of the boys you hung out with were Hajime’s friends. So what now? Would you go alone or just stay home? Finding some stranger to be your date seemed equally painful — pathetic even. You don’t know which is worse … going alone or pretending everything is okay. Sighing and letting the tears fall now, sinking deeper into the dark, suffocating from the emptiness as you closed your eyes, hoping that when you opened them, things would be different. But you knew they wouldn’t.
“I’m sick and tired of this.” but you couldn't just snap your fingers and be fine, it just had to happen, unfortunately in the most absurd way. "I hate men." Reaching for your phone you took it as the bright light immediately flashed before your eyes, and it took a few seconds to get used to it. What else could you do now besides watching videos on TikTok and Instagram? As quickly as you open the apps you immediately close them. What on earth is this algorithm showing you tarot readings, heartbroken quotes, and whatnot?
Ugh ... As if the universe wasn’t already cruel enough. You sat up, staring at the ceiling. If only there were a way to escape all of this sadness. Suddenly your phone buzzed because you forgot to turn it off, and a video popped up on the screen, grabbing your attention. It was some girl with bright eyes and a confident smile, talking about shifting and manifesting your desires. It sounded like another piece of nonsense you had seen a hundred times before, but something about the way she explained everything made you watch it till the end.
“But please be careful, okay guys?” she warned, her voice more serious, “If you see a tall black figure, it’s said to be the devil. He’ll want to make a deal with you. Do not look at him and run away. Trust no one.” She laughed softly at the end, maybe to make the viewers less scared by the information she just dropped. But you know what they say curiosity killed the cat. Shifting? Manifesting? A way to control your mind and your reality? You’d heard crazier things. Right now though, you were desperate and had nothing better to do. What else did you have to lose?
Wiping your face from the last tears, you took a deep breath and followed her instructions. Slowly, you calmed yourself, your breathing became even as you focused on the mental images she described. First came the colors—shimmering blue hues like the ocean, soft pink like the cherry blossom, and glowing golds. Then, shapes, doors, corridors, and rooms that were upside down twisted in the most impossibly and inexplicably ways. 
No, wait. You were dreaming. Your mind was creating all of this. It felt strangely lucid, as if you were half awake, half asleep in this vivid and colorful dream world. The corridors around you stretched out, leading to endless doors, each different from the last. But one door stood out from the rest. It was black, with tints of teal and all kinds of symbols drawn—triangles, stars, Roman numerals—it was like the graffiti that you see in town every day.
Without thinking, you walked towards it, your hand reaching before your mind could catch up. It’s just a dream, right? Nothing can hurt you here.
The door cracked open, revealing a large living room. The walls were adorned with paintings, most abstract as they gave more life to the black and white furniture. A massive couch sat in the center, inviting but oddly out of place. You stepped inside, scanning the room and on the nearby table, papers were scattered everywhere, filled with drawings. Picking one up, noticing how detailed it was. A wolf and a cannon and the word Frank stylized under it. Every line and stroke was done to its perfection, maybe the artist poured their soul into the work.
But just as you were about to check another one, something snatched the paper from your hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up. A big mistake.
There it was. The black figure.
It loomed over you, tall and shadowy, no face or nothing. Its form is undefined and menacing. You couldn’t make out a face, the presence was enough to freeze you in place. Panic made its way through you and you bolted towards the door. Run. You have to run and get out of this place. Oh, no. The door is locked and it doesn’t want to open, no matter how hard you pull the handle. This is just your dream. You can change it. You can control it. 
Stopping dead in your tracks, closing your eyes. A big, fluffy cat, you thought. That’s what it should turn into. Something harmless. 
When you opened your eyes, the black figure hadn’t turned into a cat. Instead, standing where the shadow had been was a boy. He looked about your age, his skin covered in tattoos—the same symbols that are drawn on the door, now etched across his arms, neck, and even fingers. His black curly hair fell slightly into his eyes, and he wore a sleeveless black tank top, a checkered jacket thrown over his shoulder, and dark pants. He looked completely normal, and even reminded you of the famous singer you adored.
“It's rude to come uninvited, you know?” he didn’t even look at you as he organized the drawings, which you assume were his. “It’s even more rude to stare at someone. Cat got your tongue, doll? You don’t like it here?”
You swallowed hard when you heard his voice. It was calm but had that teasing tone, almost mocking you in some way but at the same time it was nice, it wasn’t impolite. You wondered what to say, how to answer this mysterious person, and all that came out was a weak whisper. “I… I didn’t mean to …”
He chuckled slightly, leaving the stacked papers on the table as he looked over at you and you closed your eyes. Do not look him in the eyes, do not open them at any cost. The black-haired male raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Don’t be shy now. I was thinking of making changes to this place anyway. Do you have suggestions?” His eyes were sharp, piercing through the haze of your dream but you stayed quiet, nails digging into the palms of your hands. “What a pretty and sweet thing. Come one, open your eyes. I don’t bite…” Your heart pounded in your chest when you felt fingers under your chin tilting your head up. “Unless you want me to.”
You realized that, somehow, this boy wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. He was and felt very much real. He turned your head slightly, you couldn't see him but you could feel his eyes on you, lingering, waiting. What’s happening? You wanted to look, you wanted to see him again. You wanted to ... Then why don't you do it? It's just a fantasy, a dream. There is no logical explanation for what we dream, it just happens. 
You were imagining all sorts of horrors the boy could unleash, but instead of something terrible, you were met with an unexpected warmth. Slowly, almost unwillingly, you peeked through your lashes. There he was. Not menacing or cruel, but sweet. Warm. His blueish-teal eyes were soft as they locked onto yours, the light in the room reflected in them. His features were sharp, but not harsh, with the kind of effortless charm, the perfect balance between beauty and mystery that made your heart about to burst out of your chest. Is this the man of my dreams? You weren’t sure, but the longer you stared, the more your world started to turn upside-down, the more you felt the dizziness.
“Hi,” he finally said, his warm smile morphing into a devilish grin, and your stomach dropped. “Took you long enough, angel. Making eye contact is important when you meet new people.” He tilted your chin up with his hand, making sure your gaze stayed on him before letting go, running his fingers through his tousled black hair as he casually walked to the couch.
He sat down with his legs straddled, sinking into the cushions like he owned the place, his confidence radiating. With a lazy wave of his hand, he motioned for you to come closer. But you stayed pressed against the door, unable to just go to him like you were the best of friends.
“Who are you?” you blurted out, voice shaky. Your back stayed glued to the door, not ready to take any steps forward just yet. “And why are you in my dream?”
For a moment, his expression shifted. It wasn’t a surprise, more like he was amused as if he expected you to ask this but still found it entertaining. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch.
“Who am I?” he echoed, tapping his chin like he was deep in thought. “Well, I’m a single lady waiting for someone to put a ring on my finger.” You blinked, staring at him in confusion. Was that supposed to be funny? He looked at you, expecting a reaction, but you just gave him a blank stare. 
“Not funny?” He tilted his head, his grin faltering. You shook your head, still baffled. The corner of his mouth twitched as if suppressing a laugh, and then he shrugged it off. With a snap of his fingers, the click echoing in the quiet room, you were no longer by the door. You were sitting right next to him. "I'm many things, I can't tell you exactly who I am." he wrapped his arm around you pulling you closer to him, and you felt the warmth of his body.
Every time you blinked different types of food and drinks appeared on the table in front of you. You were very confused and still had no answers to your questions. It's just a dream, you tried to convince yourself, but you couldn't concentrate with the stranger’s hand on your shoulder. "And can I know your name so that I can take your sou–” he paused before clearing his throat and giving you a slight squeeze. “I mean soup recipe! I have been dying to try new things, so hopefully you can help me out.”
You glanced at the table again, more confused than ever. Soup recipes? This is ridiculous. But… maybe ridiculous was exactly what you needed right now. Slowly, you began to relax, letting the strangeness of the situation wash over you. Nothing bad can happen. It’s just a dream.
“I’m Y/N,” you said, testing how it felt to reveal something so simple. “And… well, is that even the right thing to tell someone new?”
“Shoot,” he replied, not missing a thing as he casually got a piece of cake from one of the plates. He took a bite, chewed a little loud, then held the fork towards you, offering a taste. You hesitated but then leaned in, accepting the bite. The cake melted in your mouth, unexpectedly delicious. I will do it, I guess? It wasn’t that bad, free food and a hot stranger. It was nice indeed.
You swallowed, and before you could stop yourself, the words came tumbling out. “So… my boyfriend, well, now ex broke up with me. And I just feel so… ugh!” You groaned, waving your hands in frustration. “I’m sad and angry and… just everything. He lost feelings? Like, what does that even mean?!”
His eyes widened, and leaning in slightly. “No way!” he gasped, playing into your exasperation as he talked with a full mouth. “Is he for real?”
“Yes!” you blurted, grateful for his dramatic reactions. “For real! He said he lost feelings out of nowhere and just ended things. It’s like I don’t even know what I did wrong! How do you just lose feelings like that?”
He made a face, shaking his head. “Do you want him to lose his mouth so he can stop with the bullshit?” You blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion, though there was a part of you—maybe a very small, vengeful part that found the idea almost tempting. “No, I mean… is that even possible?” you asked, your curiosity rising despite yourself.
He grinned, leaning back into the couch now drinking from a cup that you were not sure if it was a real skull or not.  “Sweetheart, look around you. Everything is possible.”
You took a breath, looking around at the room that constantly shifted and changed with every blink of your eyes. He wasn’t wrong. Everything here feels possible. You shook your head lightly, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
“So…” you began, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If everything’s possible, does that mean you can finally tell me who you are?” You leaned in, feeling more comfortable now. “It’s only fair, right? Sharing is caring.”
He chuckled softly, his gaze flickering with that same mystery. “Fair enough.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you and suddenly the atmosphere changed, you could feel the tension. “But where’s the fun in giving away all my secrets so soon?” Glancing at you again, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe you’ll figure it out. Or maybe…” He paused, his voice lowering into something more suggestive and dangerous, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready. Either way, angel, you’re in for a ride.”
Was this boy real? Or was he just another part of this wild, impossible dream?
But for now, you didn’t care. Something about him made you want to stay in this dream, even if just for a little longer. You trusted him, but at the same time, would you really trust someone who doesn't exist? They say that a person you don't know, but just passed by can appear in your dreams. It must be that, but why was it all so ... real? His touches, the taste of food, reactions, and feelings. 
“You’re no fun,” you teased, rolling your eyes as you reached for another bite of the various cakes displayed on the table. But before you could take it, he laughed and it wasn’t a genuine and comforting, more like a mocking laugh. “We’ll see about that pretty soon,” he said, his grin widening. 
Suddenly, everything vanished. The food, the room, him…all of it blinked out of existence in an instant. You gasped, finding yourself surrounded by pitch-black darkness. There was nothing but silence, your own breath echoing in your ears. Where did he go? As you stood there, frozen in time and nothingness, trying to make sense of it all.
But then, just as quickly as the darkness came, you blinked and opened your eyes—this time, for real. Your room greeted you with its familiar shadows and the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains and shining upon the many posters of your favorite band on the walls. You were back in bed, breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling as you tried to steady yourself. Sweat clung to your skin, your hands trembling slightly.
It was just a dream. Nothing more, you told yourself. You inhaled deeply, letting the cool air calm your nerves. It felt so real, but it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been, you wanted it to be. The nameless boy who gave you the attention and comfort you sought and longed for.
You shifted under the covers, pulling the fluffy blanket closer to your body, sinking into its warmth. The tension began to go away as you reassured yourself again. Just a dream. A strange one, but still… just a dream. Relaxing fully, you let your eyelids grow heavy, your mind slowly drifting off once more, feeling peaceful and safe in your own world.
What you didn’t know, however, was that you weren’t alone.
As you slipped into a deep slumber, a presence quietly joined you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close into a snug embrace. You felt the warmth against your back, but it was subtle, comforting enough that it blended into the haze of sleep. Fingers gently traced through your hair, playing with the strands, and a soft whisper tickled your ear.
“Good night, doll.” the familiar voice murmured, but you didn't hear or feel him because he was no longer a fragment of your imagination, but a real person...at least for what he would present himself to be.
And then you drifted off into the deepest, most relaxed sleep you’d had in weeks, unaware that the stranger from your dream had followed you into your reality.
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The next morning, the first thing you felt was warmth—an unusual, comforting heat that made you snuggle deeper into your blankets. Your face nuzzled against something soft but firm, and without thinking, you wrapped your arms around it, sighing contentedly. You had no intention of waking up. It’s Saturday, no need to rush.
"Good morning, sunshine." the voice was sweet and teasing, as you let out a sleepy groan, burying your face further into what you assumed was your favorite plushie. “Mmm, five more minutes…” you muttered, your voice muffled by the warmth. You squeezed tighter, expecting to feel the familiar softness of your stuffed animal. But instead, your fingers brushed against something warmer, something that wasn’t soft cotton or fabric—skin.
Your eyes shot open, heart pounding as you jolted upright, realizing that what you were holding wasn’t a plushie but a human body. You gasped, scrambling back and tumbling off your bed with a loud thud on the cold ground, trying to piece together what was happening.
A head poked out from the top of the bed, black curls and teal eyes sparkling with nothing but playfulness. It was him—the boy from your dream last night, the same one you were sure had only existed in your imagination. But now he was, in your bed, looking down at you with that familiar devilish grin.
“I thought I was supposed to fall for you,” he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “But apparently, the roles are reversed.” He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying your reactions and how he could smell the fear and panic. Your heart raced in your chest as you opened your mouth to scream, but before you could make a sound, he snapped his fingers. Instantly, your voice was gone, leaving you mute. You clutched your throat in horror, your mouth still wide open, but no sound came out. You tried again—nothing.
He leaned over the side of the bed, looking down at you with a smug expression. “Be quiet now, angel,” he said, his voice low and calm. “I don’t want you screaming…not yet.”
Your mind raced, thoughts going from point A to point Z. Who is he? How is he here? What is he? You crawled backward, pressing yourself against the wall, eyes wide with fear. He watched you, his head tilted slightly, clearly enjoying your reaction because to him this was just another game with humankind. He loved it when they showed fear, how afraid a person can become when they see him out of nowhere. It was priceless, the reactions and the emotions. You should see your face, he can’t stop staring at it.
"I know you have questions," he said casually, stretching his arms as if waking up from a peaceful nap. "But we'll get to that in a moment." He paused, looking around the room and how you decorated it, he will take some inspiration to his own if you don't mind. "First, let's make sure you didn’t hurt yourself with that fall, okay?"
With another snap of his fingers, you felt your body lighten. The fear that had gripped your chest was starting to leave, and though you still couldn’t speak, the panic was slowly being replaced by confusion—and maybe curiosity. You looked at him, trying to make sense of everything, but nothing added up.
"Better?" he asked, leaning back on his elbows, clearly far too comfortable in your bed. Managing to nod slightly, though your mind was still racing from the supposed dream to this pleasant morning surprise. Just what exactly was going on?
"Good. Now, let’s have a little chat, shall we?" he said, flashing you that grin again. You stood up and didn't sit on the bed next to him, but on the chair in front of your desk, pointing to your mouth, showing him that you really can't talk “Oh, yes. Sorry, doll.”
Watching him move around your room as if he belonged there. Every gesture, every glance he gave you made the air in the room feel heavier. His presence was suffocating, yet alluring in a way you couldn’t explain. He walked like he had always been there, but when he turned to look at you, it was as if he already knew what you were thinking—like he had known you for far longer than just this dream.
"So you want to make that jerk jealous, right?" he asked, his voice casual but sharp enough to pierce through your thoughts. You didn't answer right away, instead staring down at your hands as you played with your fingers.  “Eyes up here, darling,” he commanded, and despite not wanting to, your gaze lifted to meet his. It felt unnatural like some kind of spell was pulling you in, forcing you to obey. The moment your eyes locked with his, you felt that strange magnetic pull again, something dark yet engaging about him.
“I do… yes,” you finally answered, your voice quieter than you intended, because something was unsettling about how easily he was reading you, how he seemed to know your desires before you even thought about voicing them.
"And you want me to help you with that," he continued, circling you like a predator eyeing its prey, his smirk never faltering. "But, of course, you know that I’ll want something in return." His tone was teasing, yet you could sense the serious undertone that followed.  You stared at him, swallowing hard. “My soul right?” you asked, knowing full well who he was by now—though you were still processing the absurdity of it. Making a deal with the devil was a gamble and usually, the mortals always lose.
"Straight to the point. I like that. A bit impatient, but we’ll work on that." He chuckled, his fingers trailing over the objects in your room touching every piece of your life. His eyes flicked over to your wall, landing on a particular poster. It was of a musician you had a bit of an obsession with—tattoos, piercing on his eyebrow and mouth, the typical bad-boy image.
“The dude with the tattoo sleeve on the poster. You like him, huh?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. Your face heated, embarrassment rushing over you. It was awkward enough to have a stranger in your room, but a boy commenting on your obsessions? That was a whole new level of awkwardness.
“Yeah, but what about it? You think you can pull off looking like him or something?” you fired back, your tone slightly defensive as you crossed your arms.
His grin grew wider, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Even better, sweets. Even better.” And with a snap of his fingers, you found yourself pressed against the wall, his body close, caging you in. Your heart raced as you stared up at him, your mind spinning at how effortlessly he had shifted reality.
“Let’s make a deal,” he whispered, his eyes flashing a deep, unnatural black, and for the first time, you noticed the small horns beginning to grow from his head. A black tail curled around your leg, sending a chill through your body. “I’ll be your boyfriend for the party, and you…” He leaned in, so close you could feel his breath ghosting over your lips. “You’ll pay me back when the time comes. Don’t worry about it.”
You were both stunned and terrified, his presence overwhelming as his words echoed in your mind. Was this even real? Could you trust him? The truth was, you knew the answer already. You couldn’t trust the devil. But the temptation was there, and it made you desperate to unfold it and take it.
“How can I trust you?” you whispered, your voice shaking. His head rested on your shoulder as he chuckled softly against your skin, the vibration making goosebumps appear as you tensed at his sudden physical affection.
“My little puppet… wait, that’s not my line,” he murmured, the grin evident in his tone as he lifted his head to meet your eyes again. “My sweet doll, I can do things you wouldn’t even dream of. With a snap of my fingers, I can teleport you to the future, change the present, twist the past. I can give you everything you want.” His words were hypnotic, each syllable wrapping around your thoughts, making you wonder—what if?
It was true, everything about him screamed power. And you knew you deserved better than what your ex had given you. But this? Making a deal with the devil himself?
"You know you deserve better than that scumbag," he said, his hand grazing your cheek. "So, my offer stands—I’ll be your date to the party, and when the time comes, you’ll pay me back. Simple as that." His eyes glowed as he leaned closer, the danger in his smile was more than just a warning.
You took a shaky breath, trying to think rationally, but it was hard with him so close, his offer so tempting. "You know about the party? How?"
"I told you, I know everything." He stepped back slightly, giving you room to breathe as a swirl of blue flames danced in his hand. His grin widened as if he could sense the battle raging inside you. He stretched out his hand, the flames flickering and welcoming you.
“Deal or not?” He needed to convince you because you were perfect and he loved when girls turned up to him for help, especially with their love lives. But the thing is you never searched for him, you just found him on accident and that to him was something new. This never happened before, he was always summoned but seeing how scared to how comfortable you could get with him in seconds ... He wanted to have you all for himself.
You stared at his hand, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. This was a perfect opportunity, but was it right? You wanted to show up with a date, and you did want to take revenge. But you have morals, at least you thought you did. If Umemiya can't love and satisfy you then another man will. And yet…what would the cost be?
But before you could stop yourself, your hand was in his, shaking it.
"Endo Yamato, pleased to date you," he said with a sly grin. The blue flames also engulfed your arm and you expected them to burn you, but they were surprisingly warm and didn't cause any pain. Looking around you saw most of the objects were in the air, you were also levitating until the flames disappeared and everything fell into place.
"Y/N is everything alright?" your mother's voice echoed as you heard the footsteps approaching. Still holding his hand and panicked because, in a few seconds, your mother would see you with a strange guy in your room. What would she think, finding you and him? Surely, she’d freak out. 
"I-I..." you looked at Endo expecting him to help you but he just grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos, making you sit back down on the bed as if nothing had happened. He, however, took a seat at your desk, turning on your computer and launching a random game as if he’d done this a thousand times before. It was disturbingly domestic like you were truly a couple who had just spent the night together again.
The door opened, and instead of the explosion of anger you expected, your mother greeted you with a warm smile. She walked in with a plate of cake. "Oh, Yamato! What a pleasant surprise, I didn’t know you were staying over." She didn’t even blink at his presence, as if he had always been a part of your life.
Your heart nearly stopped. How did she know him? You stared at her, mouth hanging open, while Endo merely smiled, leaning back in the chair with waving his hand, pausing the game he finished in milliseconds, and it took you a whole week to do it.
"Good morning, ma’am! Y/N told me you make the best cake. Figured I'd stay and have some," he said, and you could almost hear the teasing in his voice. Your mother chuckled, completely unfazed. "Well, I’ll get another plate for you then. I’ll be right back." She turned and left the room, leaving you in a dead silence.
The door clicked shut, and you quickly turned to him, eyes wide. “What the hell just happened?”
Endo didn’t look concerned. If anything, he looked pleased with himself. "Relax, sweetheart. I just adjusted things a little. In your parents’ minds, I’m your new boyfriend. They know me, they like me. I even got your mom to bake me a cake. Now that is what I call power." He winked, leaning forward in the chair.
"You… you messed with their minds?" you stammered, scared of how much he messed up with their minds and you hope he only did that and nothing else.
"Yeah.." He stretched his arms lazily getting up from the chair. "Now I exist to them. To everyone who matters, I’m your charming boyfriend, Yamato. And no one will think twice about us going out together or hanging around. I made myself part of your world."
You sat there, heart racing, trying to process it. It felt like you were in some type of movie, in Wonderland but after everything else—the dreams, the flames, the deal—it was hard to deny. He really was in your life now. And worse? He was making himself comfortable.
"So," he continued, his eyes sparkling with what you want to think of was the life he took from you, "how about we go shopping for those Halloween costumes? I want to make sure we’re the best-looking couple at this party."
You blinked, trying to shake off the lingering shock. “Costumes? Already?” He grinned, standing up from the desk. "Why not? You want to look perfect, right? And I’ll be the perfect date. Trust me." You hesitated, but part of you, maybe the reckless part, was curious. This strange, devilish boy had thrown your life into chaos, but he offered something hard to resist: a way to take control, to show up at the party with someone who’d make your ex regret everything.
"Fine," you muttered. "But, I need to get dressed first."
"Sure," he said, not moving. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, and didn’t mind if you changed in front of him. But you did mind because you wanted your privacy, at least whatever you can call alone time now.
"Please get out!" you repeated, voice more forceful this time, pulling your shirt halfway up your stomach before realizing he wasn’t leaving. His gaze lingered, his lips curling into a smirk. He was like a snake, a beautiful but venomous snake ready to strike you down anytime. "Why? You’re my girlfriend now. You shouldn’t be shy around me," he teased, his eyes trailing down to where your skin was exposed. The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, made your stomach flip.
You flushed, face hot with embarrassment and frustration. Grabbing him by the sleeve of his jacket, you marched him toward the door. “Go eat some cake while I’m getting ready,” you muttered, pushing him out. Endo chuckled, hands raised in surrender. “Alright, alright. But don’t take too long, doll. We’ve got a date to plan.” He shot you a wink before disappearing down the hall.
You closed the door and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. What have I gotten myself into? You couldn’t deny the thrill, but the danger was just as real. Endo Yamato wasn’t just some ordinary guy—he was trouble in every sense of the word. And now, he was your devilishly charming boyfriend.
Was this the biggest mistake of your life? Maybe. But there was no going back now. With one final look in the mirror, you shook off the nerves. If anyone could make Umemiya Hajime regret breaking up with you, it was Endo Yamato. And you will embrace your new life, whatever it offers you will take it. You just signed a deal with the devil, so take advantage of the luxury.
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The mall was full of people as ever, the noise of chatter and music echoing in the background as you and Endo wandered through store after store. His hand was warm in yours, firm, yet oddly comforting despite the strangeness of everything that had happened. It had been his idea to treat you, to buy you something nice, and while the gesture was sweet, it left you feeling... a bit out of place.
You stood in front of a full-length mirror, dressed in a short white dress that hugged your figure in ways you weren’t used to. Your boyfriend stood behind you, watching with a satisfied smirk as you hesitated, his reflection staring back at you. He held a few more clothes in his arms, ready to spoil you with more options.
"You look so good," he said, his voice soft but confident. He reached out and held up the same dress in different colors. "There's also a pink and blue one. Which do you like more?" But instead of picking, you just stared at yourself, a sadness creeping over your features. You weren’t used to wearing things like this. It fits you perfectly, accentuating curves you usually hid beneath looser clothing. When you were with Umemiya, he never cared what you wore—he let you stay in your comfort zone, never pushing you to try anything new. Now, here you were, feeling exposed and unsure, your usual self-confidence slipping away.
Endo noticed immediately. He glanced at you in the mirror and saw the doubt on your face. His smile faded slightly, replaced with something more thoughtful, "What's wrong?" You hesitated, still looking at the reflection instead of him. “I’m just… not used to dressing like this,” you murmured, “What if people stare at me?”
Ah, so that was it. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his grip on the clothes tightened as he processed your words. He could tell you were beautiful, no matter what you wore, but he also understood. You were stuck in a box, never exploring past the boundaries you’d built around yourself. You deserved more than what you’d allowed yourself to have. He had something in mind for that. 
He turned to you, his expression more serious now. “I’ll be honest with you,” he began, stepping closer so you could still see his reflection standing tall behind you. “No one’s going to care. And if they do stare, let them. Who are they to you?”
His words hit hard. You looked up, meeting his eyes in the mirror, and they were trying to convince you. "Nobody," you said softly, realizing that he was right. The people out there, the strangers, their opinions didn't matter. But still, that nagging self-doubt clung to you.
Endo’s gaze softened as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you slightly to face him. “You can’t let yourself stay trapped in this comfort zone forever. If you do, you’ll keep missing out on new things, new sides of yourself you haven’t even discovered yet.” He was deadly serious now, his tone steady. “You’re beautiful no matter what. But you deserve to see how much more there is to you than what you’ve been hiding behind. So don’t let anyone, not even yourself, make you feel less.”
You sighed, your eyes flickering between him and the clothes he was holding. You knew he was right, but stepping out of that comfort zone was easier said than done. Still, something about his words made you feel… braver. You could take that step, even if it was small. Finally, you took the clothes from his hands.
“I won’t even try them,” you said, suddenly resolute. “I’ll just buy them.” Endo’s lips curled into a proud, satisfied smile as he watched you head back into the dressing room to change into your original outfit. When you emerged, his eyes lit up, and he couldn’t hold back a wide grin. "Now, that’s my girl."
You smirked back, feeling lighter than before. “You’re paying, though.” He laughed, seeing how he provoked you into doing something so simple. “Of course, doll. Anything for you.”
As you walked together to the cashier, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel like things were changing. Maybe Endo was right—maybe this was the start of something new, a side of yourself you hadn’t known before. Whether it was him or the situation, you weren't sure yet, but you knew that stepping out of your comfort zone felt a little less terrifying. Having the devil as your boyfriend was an experience of its own: both thrilling and exciting, and you couldn’t wait to see Umemiya’s reaction. 
After Endo paid, the two of you walked out of the store, your hands weighed down with at least three shopping bags filled with clothes that were far beyond your usual style. You felt strange and satisfied yet guilty at how much you bought. But somehow, that discomfort that had followed you earlier was fading. Maybe it was his influence or the fact that he had pushed you out of your little box, but the worry was no longer coming at you. 
The devil walked beside you, his hand still casually intertwined with yours, his other hand holding his bag from one of the stores where he insisted you pick out something cute because spoiling you was part of his fun. He is your boyfriend, it's his duty to make you feel good and enjoy yourself.
"We’ve got you new clothes," he said, glancing down at the bags swinging by your side. “Now, for the Halloween costumes... What do you want us to be?"
You hadn’t even thought about the party since all this craziness started. But Halloween was coming up in just two weeks, and you needed to decide. The two of you made your way to a nearby Halloween shop, the sound of spooky music and the bright displays pulling you inside. You wandered through the aisles, surrounded by racks of costumes and props…You were not using the costumes you bought with Umemiya, totally not. So it’s time to think of something new.
“Maybe something simple?” you suggested, looking through the shelves of cheap costume accessories. Your hand landed on an angel halo and some flimsy white wings. You held them up and smiled, “I could be an angel.”
Endo raised an eyebrow, “How fitting,” he said, voice laced with irony as he reached up to pat the small horns protruding from his head. “You know I don’t need a costume, right?” Somehow, you forgot what happened in the morning and how he turned into his true form with horns and a tail, wrapped around your leg. Good for him, because he can pretend they are real unless someone wants to try them on. Oh, well that’s a problem for the future.
“Right, you already come with the horns and tail. Guess we’re going as the classic angel and devil couple, then.” You tossed the wings and halo into your basket and turned to see him eyeing some fake devil horns hanging on a rack. He glanced at them before shrugging. “I think I’m good,” he said, pointing to where his horns were supposed to appear.  “I’ll just wear what I’ve got.” 
Once you had everything you needed, the two of you left the store, the cool evening breeze hitting your face as you walked out of the mall. It was such a good day today. Going towards the parking lot, Endo stopped for a second, turning toward you and before you could ask what he was up to, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. 
You froze, your heart skipping a beat as warmth flooded your face, your cheeks burning bright red. The butterflies you thought had long since died after Umemiya’s betrayal? They were very much alive now, fluttering like crazy in your stomach. 
He pulled back, his smirk widening as he took in your reaction. “You’re blushing,” he teased, eyes full of satisfaction. You couldn’t deny it, the heat in your face said it all. “I-I’m not!” you stammered, trying to play it cool, but the way your voice wavered gave you away completely. You know this boy for not even 24 hours and he is already making you feel like this. It’s the magic, most definitely you will blame it on his magic.
“Sure, angel,” he said with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around your waist as you both made your way back to the car. “But I think I’m starting to grow on you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, letting out a small sigh as you rested your head on his shoulder. Maybe this wasn’t going to be the biggest mistake of your life after all.
“Wait, hang on…” you asked removing your head from him as you looked at him, because why are you in a car, and not at the bus station? “We came with the bus, how do you suddenly have a car? And so much money?”
“Less questioning, more watching the pretty sunset.” his hand gently turned your face to the window to watch as the sky was tinted with pink and yellow hues, making you forget about everything as he stepped on the gas. Maybe deals with the devil don't sound so bad after all.
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It was October 31st—Halloween night. Ever since Endo had stepped into your life, he had turned everything upside down. He wasn’t just the devil you made a deal with, he had become the best boyfriend you had ever had. He was doting, caring, and spoiling you beyond measurements. One night, while your parents were asleep, he teleported you away to Paris to have croissants under the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower. Another time, you skipped school just to marvel at the Sistine Chapel together. Whatever you asked for, you’d get. But you were careful not to ask for much because the payment would escalate quickly.
The magic wasn’t just about the exotic trips. Endo made you feel more confident, you were finding yourself in ways you hadn't before, and he loved watching you fly with your new wings. He encouraged you to push boundaries, be bold, and stand up for yourself. It wasn’t just a Halloween costume you were slipping into tonight; it was a new version of yourself, and you could tell he was proud of that.
Tonight, though, he was being extra annoying, and was testing your patience. Standing behind you in the bathroom as you applied your makeup, his tail had found its way around your waist again, tugging you close as you tried to focus on getting ready.
“Yamato, I told you to stop wrapping your tail around me,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm as you swiped the red lipstick across your lips, making a satisfying pop sound. Pulling away from the mirror, examining your reflection. The white dress, the halo perched above your head, the wings—it all screamed angel. But what kind of angel were you really? A fallen one perhaps.
He grinned, his sharp teeth peeking through as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Can’t help it, angel. You’re stuck with me.” His voice was playful, reminding him how much he enjoyed teasing you. You rolled your eyes. “Remove it before I cut it off,” you warned, turning slightly to meet his gaze. His tail loosened immediately, slinking back, but his grin remained as wide as ever.
"What happened to ‘I love you’, ‘You are the best’, ‘Please, harder and fas–" You put a hand over his mouth and he pretended to be defeated, but there was pride in his eyes. He was happy to see how much you had changed over the past two weeks. The girl who once doubted herself had become confident and bold, and he loved every second of it. 
He watched as you adjusted the final touches of your outfit. “Look at you now," he said, his voice low and almost admiring. "Such a pretty and bossy woman. I love that new side of you.”
You slipped on your white heels, the final touch to your angelic costume. But as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but question. What was even angelic about you anymore? You had let him claim you in every possible way. Your body, your soul, everything was his, and you didn’t regret it as everything happened so fast that you wouldn't be surprised if he used his magic to make Halloween come faster.
Grabbing your phone, you prepared to upload another Instagram story with your devil darling. Ever since you posted him for the first time, everyone who had ignored or unfollowed you was suddenly watching your stories again. Funny how that worked. You smirked, knowing that tonight’s post would send them reeling and you will know the gossip because of your friends. They always tell you if someone is talking behind your back, someone like Hiragi insulting Endo, or Tsubaki being disappointed in you…and Umemiya saying he is fine but he isn’t fine.
“Showing me off again?” He asked, leaning back, watching you swipe through your phone. You nodded, snapping a quick picture of the two of you in the mirror. “Of course. People love the drama between me and Umemiya.”
You were no longer the quiet, shy girl who stayed within the lines, living by the rules set by others. You had stepped out of the zone and were living in a big mansion, filled with adventure, luxury, and a man who encouraged you to rise higher instead of keeping you stuck in one place. The devil had taught you something valuable: first, to believe and love yourself, and second, to choose a man who would elevate you, not hold you back.
“Ready for tonight?” he smiled, his horns gleaming in the bathroom light, perfectly matching your halo. “I’ve never been more ready. Let’s show them what a real angel and devil look like.”
Match made in Heaven—is what he enjoyed telling everyone and only the two of you knew the meaning. One thing was clear: You were in love with the devil, and he didn't just want your soul for the deal—he wanted everything from you. Endo Yamato wanted you. Make sure to repay him fully because the devil is always tempting, and he hates to wait too long.
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It was like time had stopped, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, hoping he hadn’t done anything that involved magic for this dramatic entrance. Everyone turned their heads to watch as you walked through the crowd with Endo. But his smirk told you he hadn’t done any tricks, much surprising to you—tonight you were simply the topic of discussion.
His arm tightened around your waist, and the big room was filled with whispers and glances, and it made you uncomfortable at some point and he sensed this, leaning down playfully whispering in your ear. “Just ignore them, angel. We're just giving them a free show~”
Well, if it wasn’t your best friend the fate itself when you found yourself face-to-face with none other than your…ex. He was accompanied by Hiragi and Tsubaki, the two friends you’d once spent so much time with. Umemiya looked at you and you could see the surprise, confusion, and maybe even regret in his eyes. He managed a weak smile, but couldn’t take his eyes off Endo, who only gave him that signature devilish smirk.
“Hi,Ume!" you greeted cheerfully, waving to Hiragi and Tsubaki, trying to make this less awkward and with how Umemiya barely reacted, still, clearly caught off guard by the presence of your devilishly attractive date. “Hi,” he muttered, eyes lingering to Endo.
"So what do you want to talk about?" you asked wanting to just have fun without thinking so much about past relationships. Umemiya'a was a wonderful boyfriend, but Endo was out of this world. 
An uncomfortable silence fell over the group until Umemiya finally cleared his throat, "Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked as you glanced at your boyfriend, and he just shrugged, releasing his hold on you, as if he knew that whatever conversation you had with Umemiya, it wouldn’t change a thing. “Go ahead,” he said, giving you an encouraging nod.
Taking a deep breath, you followed Umemiya to a quieter corner of the room, away from prying eyes but close enough that you could still feel Endo's gaze, watchful and reassuring, grounding you in your decision to move forward.
“So...uh,” Umemiya began, keeping his eyes on yours trying to search for an answer, trying to search for the real you. “You really...you’re really with him?” 
“Yes, I am,” you replied, keeping that calm and confident tone, because you needed to assure him that everything was fine, even without him. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Umemiya’s jaw clenched, and he looked away as if trying to gather his thoughts. 
“Look, I know things got...weird between us. I never thought you’d—” He hesitated, eyes flicking back to Endo, who was currently chatting with some other partygoers, yet somehow still looked every bit as menacing. “I mean, him, really?” 
“Yes, him. If you are going to judge me, just let's drop this conversation and have fun?” you said, getting a little annoyed but you understood his concerns. However, he is an ex for a reason. “He treats me well, listens to me, and I’ve been happier. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Umemiya frowned, he was frustrated “I didn’t think you’d… move on so fast.” He looked at a loss for words, struggling with the effects of his own choices. You took a deep breath, finally feeling closure start to settle over you. Whatever you’d once wanted from him—an apology, an explanation—no longer mattered. You’d moved on. “Look, I hope you will have fun despite everything. Past is past, forgive and forget, right?” you said, ending the conversation with that same smile you gave to him when he was feeling down.
As you turned to walk back to Endo, you felt at peace. Your past with Umemiya was just that—your past. Rejoining him by the drinks, he looked down at you, so curious. "You came back very quickly. How did it go?" he asked handing you a drink which you drank immediately. He knew how it went, what the conversation was, after all, he is the Devil... he has eyes and ears for all evil. "Nothing much. He's just sad, I guess. But I don't care." He just nodded and looked at you with that look, as if you were something so sweet and lovely, like a dessert ready to be savored. He was sure to savor every last bit of you when the time came for you to repay him.
"Yamato, are you listening?" waving your hand in front of his face you slightly worried for him. "Yeah, yeah. You wanted to fix your make-up?" He chuckled, leaning down closer to you. Smiling, you took his hand, guiding him through the crowd toward the restroom. As you walked, people parted to make way, their eyes on the angel and the devil, perfectly matched.
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By "fixing your makeup” you hadn’t meant making out, but Endo had other plans. His lips met yours as he leaned in, pressing you gently against the wall. You closed your eyes, letting the world fall away. His hands found your waist, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, and your mind went blank as his lips brushed against your neck, leaving traces of his dark lipstick on your skin. You weren't the only couple being all over each other, so who cares what you do?
When you finally caught your breath, you opened your eyes, only to see his smirk—sly and devilish as he pulled away, leaving you flustered and breathless. "Why did you stop?" You didn’t immediately realize why he’d pulled back until you followed his gaze. Standing a few feet away, looking as if he had seen a ghost, was Umemiya. Endo’s teal eyes were exactly like his flames, burning and full of what one could say is lust and joy, as he caught your ex’s gaze and, finally showed his real black eyes and sharp fangs.
It was Halloween, after all. Strange things are bound to happen, and if anyone asked, it was just an impressive costume trick, okay?
Endo’s hand found its way back to your face, and he kissed you once more, gentler this time but no less possessive. "Just relax and give your soul to me," he whispered against your lips, the words a promise that felt as luring as his embrace. "Give me everything so I can give you so much more."
You closed your eyes again, the feeling of being in his arms somehow made all your doubts, insecurities, and the heartache you’d carried from your past with Umemiya fade away. For the first time, you felt completely, unapologetically loved.
When you finally pulled away, the Devil watched you catch your breath, your heart racing as he could feel how you were wanting and begging for more. "Come on, angel," he said, brushing his thumb over your cheek with a grin. "This party is boring. Let me show you how demons like to have fun." Tonight, you were in his world, where the rules didn’t matter, much more than any exes of yours.
Tonight he will show you how much fun is to make tempting deals with the Devil, so enjoy yourself to the last bite of the apple—temptation is the key to your soul.
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WEIRDMAGEDDON VICTIMS :: @maruflix @exkiusme @17020 @stunies @y2kuromi @seneon @littleplantfreak @meidiary @heartkaji @nyxypoo @ryescapades
©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work
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blood-grove · 10 months ago
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odd adjustments
here -> part 2
adoptive!soap and ghost + adopted!reader
× pairing: soapghost
× summary: the now retired couple decides that there house is feeling a bit empty besides there two cats and german shepard.
× tws: medication, mentions of ptsd, angst, minor injuries, (idk what the adoption process is like so were just jumping into it) <- more relevant for the second part but still here for a tw :3
It was raining outside again,
You were busy packing up your clothes though along with Miss Sullivan who was just redoing your messy folding which you appreciated she was rambling on about some old story about her own kids all grown up and gone.
"This is a very big move for you y'know hun?"
"Yeah- I um know."
"There a very lovely couple y'know—"
"I know! I-" You paused shifting a bit as you sorted threw your sketchbooks.
"I know Miss Sullivan."
She sighed as she smiled her eyes crinkling as she turned to you.
"This is going to be a great home for you..There good people! I saw how you got along with them so well"
"Mhm-"
"Oh dear I just- I'm just so happy for you.." She sniffled as she tugged you into a crushing hug which you just mumbled your thanks.
You felt nauseous as you zipped up your bag but mentally decided throwing up in your future forever caretakers home would make it ever so harder to try and act like a normal kid around them.
Which you were also failing at.
But they didn't look normal either, Not in a offensive way at all.
They were a strange couple very warm and welcoming though when they met you the shorter one his name was John? You think he was really trying his hardest not to overstep and you liked that compared to other people who had very much been too much for you.
The other guy? Simon, You couldn't help but think the man looked intimidating but cool the both of you didn't talk much when they were letting each of them have one and one time with you but when you did talk it was nice it was clear he was more of a listener than a talker.
The both of them were nice, You found out they were ex-military but not much else it was briefly brought up and they moved onto the pets they had at home two cats one named Old man the other Gunpowder which you thought was a choice.
They also had a dog named Riley you forgot the breed she was but it was clear Simon seemed excited? nervous? You couldn't really read the man well at all not to say he was emotionless but he was just very hard to understand.
Your getting lost in your own thoughts again, You sighed as you pulled along your suitcase the wheel squeaking as you pulled it along you've had it for so long your surprised it hasn't fallen off.
Shifting uncomfortably you walked towards the main entrance Miss Sullivan walking beside you you were so zoned out you didn't even notice. When you made it to the lobby it was just Simon in the waiting room you which you were confused but they were adults and both probably had jobs you figured well paying ones you guessed from how quick the interview between them and Miss Sullivan went she clearly thought these men where the best option for you.
He noticed you both as he got up slipping his phone back into his pocket, He always seemed to wear a black face mask you guessed he had some kind of condition maybe a germaphobe? Would be weird to get a kid if that's the case maybe its not servere.
"Ohh I'm going miss you honey—" Before you could even slip away she was already pulling you into her infamous bear hugs nearly crushing the air out of you as she placed a kiss on your forehead thankfully not leaving a bright red kiss mark there.
"I-I'll miss you too Miss Sullivan-" You quietly gasped as she finally stopped hugging you and you took that que as to go over to Simon before she pulled you into another one.
"You have a a umbrella?"
You shook your head as you shifted you weren't technically lying the raggedy old one that you kept purely for memory now probably would fall apart if you tried to open it.
He hummed as he just pulled out a small fitting umbrella from his pocket handing it over as he sad something to Miss Sullivan you were paying attention as you figure out how to open the umbrella before Simon started walking back picking up with uncanny ease.
"You ready?"
"Mhm."
The ride to your new house was quiet Simon wasn't talkative along asking if you were alright and shortly explaining why John wasn't here something about getting your room ready and making a special lunch which you thought was a bit much but who were you to say no to free food?.
a/n; this will just have two parts :3
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sykestarot · 1 year ago
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messages meant to reach you
1-2-3 (left to right)
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I DO NOT OWN THESE IMAGES
Hi guys! heres your weekly reading :) ! I hope you enjoy this and it resonates for you, also I found these pics and thought they were so cute lol ! Thanks for stopping by! <3
Pile 1
“does it ever make you sad to know that was 7 summers ago?” (The Lovers; 7 of wands; knight of cups (rx); knight of pentacles (rx); 9 of pentacles ; 6 of swords (rx))
Hi pile 1! Before I even started channeling, my cat was very interested in my tarot set up which usually he isn’t so maybe you have a kitty? Perhaps one that passed that misses you and wants you to know they are always with you. For you guys I feel a sense of heavy grief either in the recent past or the present. I also feel like you’ve been avoiding your own feelings about the whole situation. I feel a sense of disappointment from you that things didn’t work out the way you wanted. I feel like you either broke up with someone due to differences in worldviews or you might have had someone pass recently that you thought you had more time with. First of all if someone did pass recently, I am so sorry and I’m sending you so much love and light. But I do feel like this might've been a sudden thing, without warning, and you just want to continue on with life without processing just how traumatic it was for you. This person wants you to know that they love you so much and that when you're ready to unpack your grief and trauma they will be with you whether you realize it or not. Now if you had a break up recently I see this person really missing you. They dream about you and want you all to themselves again. I feel like they have pride though and won’t approach you again. I also feel like you’re genuinely done with this person though. Like this isn’t the first time you guys have had fights about this stuff and they really pushed you to your limit. This might’ve happened a while ago too and they’re just holding onto it and pulling on your energy. I really do feel like they’re wallowing in regret about how they treated you but like not enough to change. Like they regret it but they feel like they had to which is so fucked up in its own right. But I digress. I do think an energy cleanse would be best for you, however you choose to cleanse your energy and space will do. I also say get rid of any items they gifted/gave to you. I’m proud of you for knowing your worth and  letting bygones be bygones. Signs: nice house; highways; red rusty pickup truck; red in general; water; creeks; fireflies; old dock; tall can beers; sentimental views (?)
Pile 2
“i aint even got the miles to trip on you” (2 of pentacles (rx); THe Lovers (rx); 3 of pentacles (rx); Wheel of Fortune (rx); knight of pentacles; 9 of pentacles (rx)) Hi pile 2! So for you guys I actually had to restart your pile a few times it was hard for me to really connect and get a message for you guys but when I did I understood why. The message coming through is from someone you simply don’t want to hear from lol. It’s probably an old partner that’s begged and pleaded to be back in your life multiple times and you just don’t care, which is such a power move. But yea overall this person just throws a pity party for themselves and how they lost a good thing and it sucks to be them I guess. But I wanted to get a message for you from your guides at the very least so heres that! All in all your guides are very happy and proud of you!! You’ve really put in the work pile 2! I see you enjoying financial blessings and i feel like your heart and mind have found peace. Whether your with someone or not I see you ina state of stability that you never thought you’d get to. Maybe things feel a little monotonous for you but I do feel like you enjoy your life and where you’re at right now! I also feel like you guys are experiencing things you never thought you would, like an engagement or getting the promotion/job you always wanted! I keep hearing that you made life your bitch LOL!! I also see you guys paying no mind to wagging tongues and you let people think whatever they want about you because at the end of the day you just don’t care. You not only enjoy your job but you enjoy your hobby’s your house, your car, and so on and so forth. I see though that you guys should work on being proud of yourself because YOU did that! No one else did!! Go treat yourself to something nice and sit back and relax pile 2 you deserve it fr!! Signs: restart button; push to start car; nice handwriting; minecraft; jeans; interior design; iron; birch wood; big healthy plants; big windows; elevators; CAPRICORN 
Pile 3
"i'm in too deep and i'm trying to keep up above in my head instead of going under" (Judgment (rx); 6 of swords (rx); 4 of swords; 10 of swords; 2 of pentacles (rx); knight of swords (rx)) Hello Pile 3!! For you guys I see that you’re a really unique person and don’t really care about people's thoughts. I feel for your message though that you might be running in the wrong crowd or with the wrong people. I feel like you choose people based on whether or not they are in the same subgenre as you, or present the way you do. Which is understandable thinking if someone dresses the same they might have the same values but I see that the people in your life don’t. I also see that they just don’t care about you as much as you care about them. I believe that you know this somewhat or you have gut feelings about this, however I think you’re hoping one day they’ll pick you. I do see though that you know that they won’t and that you know you’re not meant to be there. I see that you just want to fit in with a group of people so badly, that you need validation that people like you. But honey, lots of people like you!! They just aren’t presenting the way you are. I see that for lack of better term “conventional” people admire your bold and unique expression of yourself. I see that you have prejudice towards these people and immediately put them in a box they you guys wouldn’t get along. Lemme tell you though as much as you advocate for not judging a book by it’s cover I feel you doing that to others. Maybe this is apart of your shadow that you need to work on. I get quite a youthful energy from you though, maybe you’re in highschool? You don’t have to change everything about your life tomorrow but you can make small steps. The only person who can make active change in your life is you! So get out there and do as much as you can without regrets! I promise you’ll enjoy the things that you didn’t think you would. Plus life is meant for mistakes and learning from them. Don’t let others perception of you ruin your experience on this earth! You got this pile 3, you’re a beautiful soul, let others see it. Signs: 111 ; wizard of oz; cheshire cat; leather; vests; studs; piercings; boots; alt fashion; old sedan; empty parking lots; cigarettes; nose rings; bleached hair
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mayasdeluca · 9 months ago
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That episode was a lot and had so much but overall I thought it was pretty good. That last Marina scene was so many mixed emotions and feelings but we got so much from it. 😭 We FINALLY heard Maya speak Italian and Carina was wearing Maya's SFD shirt!!! I'm so bummed that they did Carina dirty yet again for no good reason and felt it was necessary to have her find out that she can't get pregnant but the idea of using Maya's eggs is definitely intriguing and I do hope they continue that story until the end of the season now and we get to at least see some progress made. I do wonder if any of it will be touched on in a big way in episode 7 now.
The FaceTime scene was adorable too. Maya calling Liam probie and Danielle adding in a 'babe' (bless her) was perfect. The only thing missing was a reaction from Carina to Maya wearing her Class A's. But Maya loves her family so much and it's the cutest thing.
As for the other stuff...the audacity of the writers Emily to write Maya apologizing to Beckett for her part in what she did and then to not have Beckett apologize for literally torturing and bullying her for 6 months??? For dumping fake blood on her in a Halloween episode??? So Beckett's actions are excused and fine but Maya apologizes and this dumbass still doesn't trust her and acts like an absolute fool on the call and then Maya has to DOUBLE DOWN and own up to her part again and he says nothing again for the way he treated her?? That was such a slap in the face it's ridiculous.
I did like how they had Andy acknowledge that Maya is always there for her and the call back to them in the academy but they definitely could have done more with that. I guess it's impossible for Maya to ever get any kind of remorse or apology in return though.
Carina mentioning Andrew was too much for me 😭 Liam deserved to have his Zio Andrea in his life and I'll forever be sad that he doesn't have him.
The obsession the writers have with Ross and Sullivan truly needs to be studied. They will never be the epic love story romance that they continue to try and force on us.
But anyway...
“I didn't want to have a family until you showed me...what a family was.”
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ya-what--ya-erster · 8 months ago
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Goodbye Don't Last Forever
Javey. Kind of funny ngl. Enjoy.
David Jacobs was eighteen and newly graduated when his girlfriend, Francis Sullivan, left for Santa Fe, leaving no goodbye and no way to contact her.
David went crazy when she left. He loved her and she left without a word to him. He made some stupid (but not too regrettable) decisions in the time after. Dyed his dirty blonde hair a dark shade of brown. Started wearing his glasses again. Went outside only when required (as in almost never). Stopped talking to many of his friends.
Only two of the habits died, and fortunately it was those last two. He found himself to be pretty fine within a few months of her being gone.
Six years later, David Jacobs was 24 years old and getting a new roommate.
"Hi, are you David?" A confident voice came from behind him.
He turned to face- woah he's hot- the person asking the question.
"Yeah, yes, that's me. David Jacobs. Hi."
The man smiled and held out a hand to shake.
"Jack Kelly."
Those eyes... that handshake. So familiar. But the familiarity was out of reach in David's mind.
So he stood up a little straighter, smiled back, and said, "Nice to meet you in person finally. I mean I trusted Albert enough to not find me a serial killer roommate but... I feel very assured now, haha..."
"I won't kill ya, Davey."
Davey...
"Good to know. Same here. Do you need help taking anything up?"
Jack shook his head. "All I's got is this." He nodded to a moderately sized suitcase that he was gripping.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't-"
"It's nothing, Dave. I just had to leave kinda quickly and didn't have much anyways."
"Well, uh. Let me uh... I guess, follow me?"
...
David was down bad for his roommate. And, down bad as in like, Taylor Swift "if I can't have him/I might just die it would make no difference."
Something about him, Jack, felt so familiar in all the most wonderful ways. His smile was a smile David felt like he had seen dozens of times.
David wanted to know why. He wanted to know why this boy felt so natural in the environment. Why he seemed to be the missing piece in David's life.
He was going to find out.
Not today though, he decided, when Jack entered the apartment looking like he was about to burst into tears.
"Hey, are you okay?" David asked slowly.
Jack nodded stiffly, putting his head down and throwing his bag and coat to the floor.
"Jack, you look sad."
"I'm fine."
"Jack."
"I ain't- you don't gotta be all in my business." Jack was heading to his tiny bedroom, so David grabbed his arm to stop him.
"You can tell me, you know?"
Jack leaned forward, hugging David, beginning to cry.
"Woah, hey. Hey, it's alright, let it out..." David wished Jack would hug him more often, and not while crying.
Jack continued to cry for maybe three minutes, David didn't know exactly. What David did know is that when Jack made eye contact with him, he looked like he had done something horrible.
"I ain't a real boy, Dave."
David's heart could have shattered just then, hearing Jack sound so broken.
"What do you mean, you aren't a real boy?"
"I wasn't- I'm not- I am a boy. I know and promise that I am but I just- wasn't born that way and I feel like a fraud and I get sad sometimes."
"That's okay to be sad, Jack. But you're a boy, I know you are. If you say you're a boy, you're a boy. No, how old are you?"
"Twenty-four."
"Okay, Jack Kelly, you are no boy, you're a freakin' man."
Jack smiled a little, wiping his eyes dry.
"Thank ya, Davey."
...
David was having none of this "stay up until 3 AM painting" bullshit.
"Jack Kelly, you will start going to bed at a decent time or so help me-"
"I'm fine, Dave!" Jack defended himself.
"You drank four coffees today and three energy drinks. I don't even know how you're still alive!"
"Fine, fine. I will be in bed no later than midnight."
"Is that the best I'm gonna get?"
"Yup."
David sighed, deciding to give in.
"At least show me what you've been working on into the ungodly hours of the night?"
"Maybe someday." Jack smiled mysteriously and disappeared once again into his room.
David was not staring at his fine ass as he retreated. He wasn't.
...
"Davey, do you got any food?"
David was regretting getting a roommate but also enjoyed having someone around. He didn't appreciate having to buy random shit every other week because Jack had a craving and pretty much no money. (He spent his money on rent and art supplies, which David didn't mind because his apartment was cheaper and Jack's art was amazing.)
"We have fruit snacks and spaghetti-o's if that qualifies as food. We might also have a banana."
Jack strolled into the kitchen area after David's previous statement and pulled out a packet of fruit snacks, a can of spaghetti-o's, and the blender.
"What the fuck are you doing?" David asked, shocked and amused all at once.
"I'm making me some dinner, you want some?"
"Jack, there is no way in Hell you are going to eat- drink spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks put through the blender. It's gonna be terrible."
"Actually, no it isn't. My old friend dared me to do it and it actually tastes good."
David had a brief memory flash through his mind.
"Francis! I dare you to put the two most different things you can think of in the blender and then drink it." Race shouted.
"Okay, I'll do it." Francis smiled that daredevil smile of hers and got started. Spaghetti-o's and fruit snacks.
When it was complete, Francis took a long drink.
"Wow. That's actually not terrible."
"Davey, you good?"
David nodded. "Sorry, just. You just reminded me of something."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Ex-girlfriend."
"Thought you said you're gay?"
"She kind of helped me out on discovering that."
"Well. That's nice of her. How so?"
"Uh. It's a long story."
"I bet I can handle it. Besides, I have an abomination to drink. I'll listen."
"Oh. Okay. Well. Basically, she decided she was going to Santa Fe and wasn't going to, you know, say goodbye to me or anyone. And I spent a long time angry and then realized I didn't really miss her romantically at all and just was pissed, and then me and my friend Albert accidentally fucked when we were drunk and I was like 'wow that's allowed?' and anyways uh Al and I aren't and weren't interested in each other at all, we were just drunk like I said, but then it all made sense why I wasn't like, sad over the 'love of my life' leaving because it was just a high school girlfriend and I'm not even into girls. So I'm not even mad at her anymore really I'm just gay and confused and I've talked a lot now sorry."
David looked up at Jack for a reaction. He was wearing this face... David could not name the emotion.
"What was her name?"
Huh. Weird question.
"Why?"
"Well, I was just wonderin' if maybe I met her, since I's come here from Santa Fe and all."
"Oh. Yeah, uh. Her name's Francis Sullivan."
"Have a picture?"
"Yeah, one sec." David scrolled through his phone's camera roll until he found her. "Here."
The picture made Jack frown, and David kind of would have done anything to make him smile again.
"You know her?" David asked.
"Yeah, uh. I knew her."
David's heart sped up.
"Really? Is she doing okay? Is she alright? Do you know where she lives, cause I might need to go-"
"Davey. Stop."
"What?"
"You can't exactly go visit her."
"Why not?"
Jack seemed to be looking inside himself instead of at David when he spoke.
"She was... the real depressed type, Dave. Always sad. She never smiled, I don't think. She was in a real bad state of mind."
"What're you-"
"She ain't alive no more."
Everything stopped in David's head.
"What?"
"I'm real sorry, Dave. She just ain't... But I'm here."
"What's that supposed to mean? 'You're here?'"
Jack hesitated before opening his mouth. "She didn't exactly... die the way you're thinking. She, uh. She just... more... changed? She ain't Francis anymore. She cut her hair and went on T and got top surgery and goes by a boy's name now, and he/him. So, uh, tellin' ya she died was probably not the brightest idea but that was an in-the-moment decision."
"Good for him. What does that have to do with you being here?"
Jack made absolute eye contact with David, wondering how he could be so fucking stupid, and held it. Held it as he crossed the room and held it up until the moment he pulled David into a hug.
"I'm sorry for leavin' you. I just had ta get away."
David jerked away from Jack in a quick movement.
"You? You're... You- I can't-" David's brain was moving too quickly and all he could think to do was punch Jack in the face as hard as humanly possible.
Which he did.
"Son of a bitch- Dave! I only told ya cause I thought you said ya weren't mad anymore!"
"Yeah, well. Now I am, asshole. You... You deep friend burnt-ass dino nugget dickhead. You absolute.... I can't even. How dare you? I fucking loved you, yes even if I'm gay now, and you, you just ran the fuck off and never bothered contacting me for six years. I would have understood if you needed to leave, needed to leave me, needed... whatever. I would have given you your space. I hate you."
Jack looked hurt. It made David feel good. All that pain he went through and it was being passed on.
"Davey-"
"David."
"Right, sorry. David. I'm really sorry. I don't- I never meant ta hurt you. To be honest, I thought you'd be glad if I left and never came back."
David felt less good.
"I just- I wanted to feel like I could be free. It didn't really... go as planned. Because I just realized I wanted to come back. Mostly for you."
David didn't stop to think. David just kissed Jack like he was hungry for it.
"I fucking hate you." He said, pulling away.
"No you don't."
"Don't test your luck."
A small moment of touching silence passed.
"So..." Jack started. "You slept with Al?"
"Now I actually do hate you. Get out, I'm calling him. Maybe he'll be nice to me."
"Davey... I love you. I always did."
"I'm... good to know. I can't- I'm still mad, bitch."
Jack just laughed, and he knew right then that it would all be fine.
A/N: hope y'all liked it :) It'll be on ao3 asap
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candyistoosweet · 6 months ago
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Now since I see how much you're interested in hellcrew...Who's YOUR fav character???
Oh my fav hellcrew characters are A LOT! Almost all of them!! Well I just can't pick only one, so I'll just text it down with ranking◝(*'◡'*)◜
1. Kelly Duffy
2. Cian Lynch
3. Seamus Wrynn
4. Seraphina Shaw
5. Lucien Delaney
6. Sullivan Sweeney
7. Julius Doherty
8. Octavian Doherty
9. Devlin Doherty
10. Duvessa Doyle
11. Killian Lynch
...Haha, I'll explain in order! First off, Kelly is my fav cuz...I don't know I love his design so much! I love how he looks, and...the lack of infos or stories about him makes me feel more attracted to his mysterious aura I guess?
Next, Cian! Well, Cian is definetely at the top tier since he has so many best traits out of HC casts, don't you think? He's good with kids, cooking, social, looks handsome....so many great characteristics to tell! Definetely #1 or #2!
Seamus...I love himmm I love his aura, I really appreciate how he shows his personallity!! His face and hairstyle is also very calm and interesting...only if his way of describing 'love' as his photos weren't so twisted, I could've just gave him #2 tier, honestly.
Sera...Actually @gracilissart 's artwork of his characters and their introductions are favorite out of three creators' works in the Hellcrew project. I'm a straight girl and Sera makes me into lesbian time to time LOL🫣 I love her design!!! 8/10.
I can explain. I can explain about Lucien...I like the way how easy it is to say out his name. Lucien...And also, his job occupation is the same dream job I want! A pediatric psychiatrist! At least his JOB doesn't describe what he is like...does it? 5~6/10.
Sullivannnn!! His nationality reminds me of mine! He's part chinese, and my nationality is korean which kinda relates as the same asians. I also love how tanned his skin is compared to others, it gives unique vibe!! 7/10!
Despite how much fanarts I draw out of him, Actually Julius doesn't reaches to the highest tiers. I love his design, backstories or the way he kills, but maybe his personallity is the reason I'd say? I love him!
Octavian Doherty. Oh gosh, I won't lie, his first design before looked a lot alike Jason The Toymaker, the creepypasta. But since his design and settings changed a lot, I like this new version 10000 times better!! I just cannot understand what he talks when he texts, that's affecting his middle tier. 6/10!
Devlin? Oh he's nice...Yeah...But I don't like the way he've treated his girlfriends before, 4/10.
I don't know anything about Duvessa, just except that she's Killian's favorite woman, her hairstyle, and her eye color!! But at least she gets along with Sera and she's pretty so...I'll just place her above the worst fav tier. No rate comments yet since I don't know her yet!
Killian....Well, I know he's the best and all, but I just don't think he's my type character...Notvtrying to say he's bad character. He's still awesome, there're already too many characters who attracts me better than him, which shows him below them as the result...7/10!!!
Thereee's everything I'd say for now. I bet you guys have been shocked of how high rate I gave Lucien, but....🫠 I just admire his job. Don't blame me, it's one of my dream job ᕙ༼ ≖ᴥ≖༽ᕗ 
Characters:
Julius, Killian, Cian, Duvessa, Sullivan, Octavian, Kelly - @sanityshorror
Devlin, Lucien - @scarfaxia
Seamus, Seraphina - @gracilissart
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agoldengalaxy · 5 days ago
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Blood of the Covenant
read on Ao3
words: 2462
“Oh, Jesus,” Sam whispered, lowering himself down into the mud, sliding slowly down to the nearby boulder. “Please. Please.” Gently, he rolled Sully over, checking for a pulse. There was so much blood, he almost felt sick. “Hang on, Victor. Christ..."
--
Chapter 1: Infamously Unkillable
“How ‘bout…” Sam gently kicked a rock, watching it roll along the gravel as they walked. “Cate Blanchett?”
“Not really into blondes. Pretty, though.”
“Alright, didn’t realize you were picky, Victor. Guess that’s why you’re not married, eh?”
“And what’s that make you?” Sully replied with a grin. “What about Sandra Bullock?”
Sam returned the grin. “Now that’s a lady I’d like to take to dinner. Flowers, music, the whole shebang. I mean, have you even seen The Lost City? ”
“Guess you’ve given that one some thought,” Sully chuckled, stopping for a moment to wipe sweat from his brow and groan, which Sam had learned was partly dramatic but partly real. “We gotta be close now, right? I’m sick of this goddamn humid island.”
Rolling his eyes, Sam pulled out their map, unfolding it. “Don’t quit on me now, Victor, look.” He pointed at the map, showing where they were standing and drawing his finger up the path. “We’re so close. The Treasure of Lima is as good as ours.”
“How are you even sure it exists?” he huffed. “Two hundred million buried under the island is a bit cliché, don’t you think?”
“You’re gonna ask me that now, after all this time?” Sam smiled slightly, patting the other man’s shoulder as he shoved the map back in his pocket. “Buck up, old timer, we don’t have far to go now. Don’t get cold feet on me. The uncertainty never stopped you when you were with Nathan.”
Sully scoffed, starting to walk again. “Never stopped me from complaining, though.”
“Oh, I know.”
“And I still haven’t forgiven you for Paris.”
Trying to stifle a laugh, Sam raised a brow. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
Sully rolled his eyes. “Yes, forcing me to pretend I was senile got me out of getting arrested. Didn’t get me out of going to the hospital.”
“Oh, don’t complain. You loved it there. Those French nurses were all over you, they thought you were adorable.”
Suddenly, Sully stopped in his tracks, and Sam stopped too. Cold metal pressed into their backs, and it was such a familiar feeling it almost didn’t worry Sam. Almost.
“Victor Sullivan,” a voice murmured behind them, “I see you’ve picked up a new stray.”
“Amelia Davies,” he replied, casting a glance over his shoulder, “I see you haven’t aged a day.”
The woman clicked her tongue. “Ever the charmer.”
“You, uh, wanna introduce me to your friend, Victor?” Sam asked, gaze darting to the side as he lifted his hands up. The person behind him shoved him forward, and when he turned around, he found a woman around Sully’s age, bright dyed red hair cut to about chin length. She was flanked by two other women in heavily armored suits, still holding their guns up.
“Drop them. Off the side.” The woman in front of Sam spoke. The two men knew better than to argue. Down the cliff their guns went.
Sully, now beside Sam, sighed tiredly. “Sam, Amelia. Amelia, Sam. Now you’ve been introduced.”
“Ah!” The woman with red hair looked positively delighted. “Don’t tell me - this is the less famous brother!”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” Sam mumbled.
“And I see your sisters are still in good health. Using the twins as your backup still, eh? Hello, ladies.” Sully waved his already lifted hand slightly. The women cocked their guns as he turned his attention back to the ringleader. “What do you want, Amelia?”
Amelia sighed softly. “Oh, many things. Your heart, for one. Though I can’t tell if I want to have another night in Brazil, or to rip it from your chest myself. But you know what I’m here for.” She held out her hand expectantly, red nails sparkling in the setting sunlight. “The map, if you please.”
Sam was almost too busy feeling disgusted to notice the expectant look on Sully’s face. “Sorry, lady, this one’s ours. Find your own like the rest of us.”
“Sam -”
“Ooh. Such fire in this one. I thought you taught your children better than that, Victor. What a shame.” She cocked her head to the side, and one of the armored women stalked forward, picking Sam up by the throat.
He hadn’t realized how much taller she was, but his feet dangled a few inches from the ground as he clawed at his throat. Her thick gloves prevented him from making any headway. Sully took a step closer, his eyes full of panic. “H-Hey! Let him go, we’ll give you the map!”
“Take it from his pocket,” Amelia replied, eyeing them hungrily. “Slowly.”
Sam was beginning to see black spots in his vision, gripping onto the armored woman’s arms so tight that he could feel the blood pounding in his fingers. The map was slowly taken by Sully and thrust into Amelia’s hands. For a whole second, there was silence. Sam couldn’t see.
Until he fell to his knees, coughing like his life depended on it. Sully was by his side in an instant, rubbing his back gently and glaring at the three women above them. Sam glanced up, managing, “Y’know, usually, you’re…supposed to buy me dinner first.”
Amelia carefully folded the map, tucking it away in her coat pocket as Sully slowly helped Sam to stand. “That wit. Ah, I’ve heard all about you and your brother. The infamously unkillable Drake brothers. I wonder, then, why on Earth I should let you go, when so many others have made that mistake.”
Sully’s eyes narrowed. “Now, wait a goddamn minute -”
“No, I don’t think I will.” She breathed in, glancing between her sisters. “Well, Victor, it’s been lovely to catch up, but I’m afraid this is where we part.” She pulled the sunglasses down off of the top of her head, smiling coldly in Sam’s direction. “Kill him first.”
Everything suddenly happened in slow motion. Sully leapt in front of Sam as a gunshot rang, sucking every other sound out of the air. Blood seeped through the yellow Hawaiian shirt around the left shoulder before Sam could react, one of the women stepped forward and kicked Sully in the chest. He stumbled backward, sliding down the muddy cliff before coming to a stop, a motionless heap against one of the boulders.
Sam knew he screamed, but he couldn’t hear it. He leapt onto the woman who kicked Sully, using her as a shield from the other two, and wrenched the gun from her hand. Though she tried fruitlessly to throw him off her back, he dug in his heels and aimed for the other two. One went down. Amelia scurried away with the map. Sam pulled the helmet off the woman below him, using all his force to jump down and kick her off the side of the cliff, where she tumbled, further past Sully, picking up more speed until landing in a mangled mess at the bottom.
“Oh, Jesus,” he whispered, lowering himself down into the mud, sliding slowly down to the nearby boulder. “Please. Please.” Gently, he rolled Sully over, checking for a pulse. It was there, but weak. There was so much blood, he almost felt sick. “Hang on, Victor. Christ…”
With shaking, bloody hands, Sam took off his jacket, tying it in a tight knot around Sully’s shoulder. He picked up his limp form and slowly, slowly slid the rest of the way down the cliff. Once on solid ground, he pulled Sully into a fireman’s carry.
“You’re gonna be okay, Victor,” he mumbled, maybe mostly to himself. “You always are. Right? You always are. So don’t you dare -” His voice broke, which he attributed to residual damage from the chokehold and not anything else.
---
Sam’s ears were still ringing by the time he made it to the hospital. After a long, silent and terrible boat ride, he was never more happy to be on land with civilization. “Please,” he murmured, all he could manage as the doors swung forcefully closed behind him. He took a step forward, somehow astutely aware of the blood from Sully’s arm and head that dripped onto the floor below him. He cleared his throat to try again. “Help!”
Much to his relief, a group of nurses swarmed him, helping him gently lower Sully onto the bed they’d rolled out. “What happened?” One of them asked in Spanish.
“Shot. Fell down a cliff,” Sam replied breathlessly, feeling like details weren’t quite necessary at the moment.
Two of them exchanged a look, but mercifully didn’t ask him any more details, rushing Sully away to surgery. Sam’s ears were still ringing as the doors swung shut behind them, and he almost didn’t notice that the woman at the counter was staring at him.
“You don’t look so good, sir,” she called in English. “Are you injured, too?”
Slowly, he walked up to the desk, running a hand through his hair, trying to ignore how red it had been stained. “No. No, I’m fine. Just…”
“Who is this man to you?” she asked next.
Sam’s thoughts all jumbled together. He used to hate Sully. He used to think Nate trusted him too easily, and that he was just waiting for the right time to stab them both in the back. He was arrogant and cocky, always defensive, overbearing when it came to Nate. Before being arrested years ago, Sam and Sully had been fighting, and Sam had to remind him he wasn’t their father and never was. He’d never forget the look on Sully’s face.
Over the last year, they’d been partners, found common ground. Past the arrogance, there was kindness. Past the defensiveness was accountability. Despite what he would say, Sully was a good man. 
That good man had taken a bullet for him.
And he knew, if he wanted any chance to see him out of surgery, he’d have to lie. He was surprised that the thought of this lie didn’t make him angry or sick.
“He’s my father,” he answered, realizing the ringing in his ears had stopped.
“I see.” The receptionist seemed to have guessed that much. “Could you tell me your father’s name, and your name?”
“Victor Sullivan. Samuel Drake.” Sam glanced over his shoulder while she typed, noticing that some of the people in the waiting room were watching him. He supposed it had been quite a dramatic entrance. Half-heartedly, he lifted a hand toward the custodian who came by to mop up Sully’s blood. “Gracias.”
He turned back around as the typing slowed. “Okay, Mr. Drake. Mr. Sullivan is in good care. Please stay in the waiting area until I call your name. The restrooms are down the hall to the right.” She adjusted her glasses, peering up at him. “Is there anything else?”
“Ah, no, Ms…” He glanced toward her ID badge, pinned to her coat, and plastered on his most charming smile. “Bianca. Thank you very much.”
Slowly, Sam walked toward the restrooms, standing at the sink. In the mirror, sunken eyes looked back at him, pale, clammy skin looking yellow in the dim bathroom light. Dark spots were beginning to rise up around his neck, hand in hand with his tattoo. As the adrenaline began to wear off, he turned on the faucet, scrubbing his hands. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or his eyes, but long after the water stopped running red, his hands were still stained. Prunes danced along his fingertips, and he was beginning to break skin, but his palms were still lined with faded crimson.
When he turned off the faucet, his ears began ringing again.
“Shit,” he whispered, tossing his head back for a moment to close his eyes.
He exited the bathroom, glancing down the opposite hallway where they had taken Sully. He bit his bottom lip, thinking he should probably just go outside and have a cigarette, but instead, he snuck his way down the hall, thankfully not running into anyone. Upon reaching the doors, he slid inside, quickly diving behind a box of supplies.
A slow but steady beep filled the otherwise silent room. Some of the doctors made idle talk, wondering why an old man was in such terrible shape. As Sam peered over the edge of the box, he watched a nurse suddenly gasp.
The machine flatlined.
Someone scrambled to grab the defibrillator. Sam didn’t breathe. He couldn’t hear the doctor count down, only watched the body flail upward for a moment before laying limp. Again, then again. His vision was starting to get splotchy.
Slowly, the machine blinked back to life, returning to its slow beeping.
Releasing the breath he was holding, Sam sunk back down, leaning against the box to clutch at his chest. He supposed he shouldn’t put it off any longer. 
If Sully really was doing this terribly, he had to tell him .
Carefully, Sam snuck back out the way he came and doubled back toward the restroom, returning to the waiting area. He smiled at Bianca, gesturing to his phone as he stepped toward the door. Once outside, now dark, he stared down at it, once again feeling quite nauseous.
“Pull it together,” he mumbled to himself, quickly pressing the call button and pushing the phone to his ear.
It rang once, twice. Then, “Hey, Sam! Great timing, we just got Cassie down. How are you?”
Sam felt his heart sink, but he did his best to keep his voice light. “Hi, Nathan. I’m…I’m fine.”
Suddenly, Nate’s light-hearted tone disappeared. “What happened?”
Dammit. Leave it to his brother to catch on right away. “Usual luck, I suppose,” he said, fumbling in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.
“Are you okay?”
Pausing for a moment, he figured he probably should have practiced this before he called. “I’m fine, thanks to Victor. But ah…he got hurt pretty bad.”
“What?!” Sam could practically hear Nate’s heart dropping. “Is he gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, ‘course. He always is.”
A quiet second passed. Then, Sam sighed, speaking a little quieter.
“I don’t know, Nathan.”
There was a long enough pause that Sam almost thought Nate hung up. Finally, his voice came shakily. “Where are you?”
“Costa Rica,” he answered cautiously.
“What hospital?”
“You can’t seriously be considering -”
“Sam. Please.”
Sam pressed his lips together, feeling a lump form in his throat. He glanced up at the name of the hospital plastered above the door. “Plaza del Sol.”
A soft sigh pushed into Sam’s ear. “Okay. See you soon.” Before Sam could protest any further, Nate had hung up.
Slowly, he turned his face to the sky, now a dark blue, a few stars twinkling through the clouds. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he pulled out his lighter, and, ignoring the fact that his hands were trembling, took a deep breath.
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foxintheferns · 1 year ago
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WILD HEART - Chapter One Release!
a Twilight-Paul Lahote Fanfiction
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***Short summary for my antsy gals: this bitch with childhood trauma, no real family and a passion for animals goes to live in the woods outside of La Push beach for her job, and guess who’s not happy she’s there because now they have to worry about this human who’s put herself smack in the middle of bloodsucker city, where they have an instinctual obligation to protect her. And guess who’s even more angry that he suddenly feels an undying and relentless, fiery need to be with her all the time? Angst, tension, passion, anger, love, jealousy, perhaps even some betrayal? This story’s got it all babes (yes, even the smut) - it’s just one of those slow burn, then-suddenly-everything-is-fuckin-crazy-and-the-angst-is-unreal fics, you know? stay tuned ;)
A/N: Finally starting my long-form Paul Lahote fic. Truly I am so JAZZED. I would love suggestions and comments as the story builds. Please enjoy the very first chapter! It’s a lot of character and setting development that’s much heavier than it will be in following chapters, so just bear with me 😫 I’ll be uploading pretty damn regularly, 2nd chapter will be up tonight!
CHAPTER ONE:
“All by yourself?”The grey haired, pinch-faced man tipped his face down to look at me incredulously from above his wire framed glasses, which drooped to the tip of his nose in response to the movement. His gravelly voice was muffled by the cloudy glass that separated his cubicle from the rest of the Forks Department of Motor Vehicles waiting room. The question was getting all too familiar to me, and it took more of my energy than it should to not roll my eyes at his curiosity, which was clearly laced with disapproval. I decided a soft smile, one that only I would know was almost painfully forced, seemed manageable.
“All by myself!” I responded curtly and with feigned enthusiasm. My eyes squinted as my cheeks were pushed up towards them by the effort of my smile. How many times did I have to have this conversation? Was it really that unheard of for a woman to live in the woods by herself? On second thought, maybe it was. But this was Washington! I expected my job title to be a bit more of the norm here. The man blinked at me, pursed his lips into a thin line, and shifted his sharp eyes back down to the work forms I had provided for him. He cleared his throat, tilting his head back again and holding the pages further from his face to peer down through the square lenses of his glasses at the top sheet. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his middle fingertip, bringing it back down to the papers and flicking to the next page. I sighed and shifted my weight onto my other hip, trying to not tap my fingers against the linoleum countertop in my impatience. Maybe I was taking his words personally, but I felt his distaste for my plans radiating out from his cubicle, washing over me in judgmental waves. It made me itch to get the hell out of there. I didn’t need any more resistance, having already gone through hell to leave my life in Maine behind for the next year and a half. He hummed a low grumble and proceeded to put the papers down on his desk, bringing his hands over his keyboard and beginning to type. He paused, then, peering up at me again. “Sullivan, Harley? Date of birth October nine-, no, erm,” He squinted down at the computer screen, “eighteenth, that is… of 1999?” His voice was more practiced and formal now, establishing that he had clearly decided to give up on the interrogation and go through the motions of providing me my updated license, one that would state my new residence in Washington. I nodded with an affirming smile, and he went back to typing. After a minute or two of clicking, tapping and sighing, the older man, whose name tag pinned to his blue button down read ‘Tom’, proceeded to stand up with a small groan from his chair. He slowly paced over to the large printer in the corner of the small carpeted room, clicking several buttons on the side of the massive contraption. Moments later, he pulled a shiny rectangular card from the tray of the machine, lifted it up to the light to eye it carefully, then lumbered back to the window where I waited.
“Well, Harley, you’re all set,” he announced, placing my new license along with my work forms down on the counter through the small window under the glass, “I wish you luck, on your… well, whatever it is you’re doing. Stay safe out there, kid.”
I nodded, shooting him a final grin.
“Thanks.” I grabbed the license and papers out from under the glass divider panel and turned on my heel, heading out through the small gathering of chairs lining the waiting room, and opened the glass door. The frigid air hit the skin of my face in a less than gentle breeze, causing my eyes and nose to scrunch against the sensation. My hair whipped behind me and I gritted my teeth. Welcome to Washington, I supposed. I walked swiftly over to my car, noting how dirty the side was. Scoffing to myself, I wondered if I’d ever again have a clean car in this rainy, muddy state, and then questioned myself as to why I cared so much. My white 1987 Ford Bronco wasn’t exactly the flashiest car around, and to my surprise it fit right in the with the extensive collection of old classic vehicles that called Forks, Washington home. I opened the squeaky door and quickly threw myself onto the driver’s seat, slamming the door closed behind me. I exhaled loudly once I finally sat down, leaning my head back against the headrest. My trip to the Forks DMV didn’t take nearly as long as I’d thought it would, and I knew that was probably due to the ridiculously low population that the town had to its name. However, it wasn’t the last thing on my to-do list for the day. I opened my wallet, placing my new license into the clear display window pocket, and tossed it across the seat next to me. I put the car into first gear and pulled out of the parking lot, eager to get myself situated in my new home. Groceries, gas, firewood, I repeated to myself out loud, knowing that if I didn’t make a list - even a mental one, my obligations would be doomed. Despite my repetition of my to-dos, I almost drove right past the tiny gas station that was settled in next to an old diner. After filling the Bronco up with gas and then buying firewood in the tiny convenience store, I looked up the nearest grocery store on my GPS, and found that Forks Outfitters wasn’t more than five minutes down the road. There was something very satisfying about being in such a small town. I proceeded to spend far too much time and money in the grocery store, not sure if I was over or underestimating the amount of food I would need, and having no idea what I would want to cook for myself for the next few weeks. My new house was quite a bit off the beaten path, and I knew I wouldn’t want to be making the trip to the grocery store in Forks too frequently once I was settled in. With a trunk full of grocery bags and firewood, I slammed the Bronco’s back door with a tired sigh, and walked over to the driver door, opening it with a loud creak. Gonna have to grease those hinges again, I thought to myself with a loud sigh.
“Miss?” I heard a deep voice from behind me. I spun around, one hand still holding my door open, and my eyes met a kind and gentle face. A middle aged man, who sat in a wheelchair and had long black hair that flowed from under a cowboy hat, met my gaze across the small parking lot, a slight smile on his lips. His chair was stopped in front of the automatic doors, off to the left of the entrance, and his eyes were on me. I smiled back timidly and then noticed his right arm was outstretched, his fingers pointing down at the ground leading to my car. I followed his finger and saw the sparkling blue of my debit card on the ground that I must have dropped on my way out to the parking lot.
I felt heat rush to my cheeks, and I glanced back up at the man.
“Oh, thank you!” I stammered and walked swiftly over to my card, laughing awkwardly and bending down to scoop it up. He nodded once, his smile reaching his eyes now, which then flickered to my car. He lifted his hand again, this time gesturing towards the Bronco. “Visiting from Maine?” He questioned, his voice curious and friendly. I glanced over to the rear of my car, which still had a Maine license plate bolted on. Tom from the DMV had let me know during my visit to come back in a week to pick up my new Washington plates.
“Oh, uh. No, actually…moving here!” I said as I looked back over to the man.
“Wow! Don’t see that often,” He grinned, then hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly, “Why exactly? Not that we’re not happy to have ya, there’s just not much here, hey?”
His demeanor was one of genuine interest, and his questions did not provoke me to feel alarmed, as they likely would have from any other strange man in a grocery store parking lot. I didn’t think it was just because of the wheelchair, although I kicked myself internally for making the mental note that he wouldn’t be able to catch me if I had to run away from him. Oh, the joys of being a woman traveling solo. I shrugged, still maintaining the smile on my face. “Have a job out here, actually. Wildlife biologist.” I saw his eyebrows raise slightly in response to my words. For whatever reason, telling this stranger of my plans didn’t feel as tedious as it had throughout the lengthy process of my settling into Washington, when the many questions of ‘why?’ and ‘but won’t you get scared, or lonely?’ had come up too many times to count.
“Impressive…lots of wildlife here, that’s for sure.” He seemed slightly fascinated, which was one of the two reactions I tended to receive. I wondered how he would react to the whole ‘living in a cabin the middle of the woods alone’ part of my plan. I decided it was probably smart to avoid letting the stranger know I’d be dwelling in the forest all by myself. I nodded, my smile unwavering.
“Yea, erm, I’ll be doing a good amount of data collection down at La Push, some of the species I’m focusing on are beach-goers,” I said with a slightly awkward laugh. His expression wavered infinitesimally, his eyes flickering with some expression entirely unreadable to me.
“Ah..,” He mumbled, glancing down to the ground briefly before looking back up to my face, “Well, let me know if you ever need some direction or help. I live down on the Quileute Reservation, La Push is on our land.” He paused again, then continued, “You can come by the main shop on the beach and ask for me, I’m nearby. Billy Black.” I took in the expression on his features once more, giving up at attempting to understand the man’s genuine kindness. It wasn’t often that strangers didn’t have some ulterior motive, but the man’s calm nature brought me a sense of safety and sureness. It almost felt fatherly, as if he knew I’d be out there by myself, despite my not mentioning it. “Thanks, Billy,” I responded, flashing a grin and holding my debit card up briefly as my expression of gratitude, “I’m Harley…it was nice to meet you! Glad I know somebody around here now.”
He nodded again, this time adding in a slight bow of his head that acted as a polite goodbye. I waved and walked back over to my car, starting the engine and getting my debit card situated back in my wallet. I put the car in reverse, and backed out of the parking spot, finally ready to make the drive to what would be my home for the next 18 months as I completed the work mission assigned to me by Washington state’s Wildlife Conservation Department. As I was preparing to pull out of the store’s lot, a glance in my rearview mirror showed a very tall, muscled, and longhaired young man exiting the store, hanging two grocery bags on the handles of Billy’s wheelchair and pushing it towards an old tan pickup truck in the lot. The boy looked around my age, and his features strongly resembled Billy’s. I quickly put together that they were likely father and son. I saw him glance towards my car as I waited at the stop light that swayed slightly in the wind above the small intersection, and quickly tore my eyes away from the mirror when his dark eyes seemed to find mine. I was grateful when the light turned green, and I took a deep breath as I pulled out of the parking lot, starting down the road towards my future.
_________________________________________________
After the 20 minute drive from the town of Forks to La Push, I pulled out the map that my new boss had emailed to me before my trip, pointing out the minimally marked trailhead towards my new home. I would be staying in the observational shelter that was provided by the state of Washington for whatever brave soul decided that conservation work was more important than their social life. I chuckled lightly to myself as I scanned the tree-line along the road, trying to match the trailhead on the map to any visual marker around me. The sun was just starting to come down, and I worried that I wouldn’t make it to the house in time. Then, I saw the small wooden sign, next to a long chain that was strewn between two short posts, that read ‘National Park - Protected Land, Do Not Cross. Washington State Dept of Fish & Wildlife appointed entrance ONLY’
Well, I thought, there’s my new driveway I suppose. My boss had provided me with the key for the chained entrance when I had arrived two days ago in Port Angeles and checked in for the start of my 18 month shift with the National Park center. I put the car in park and got out, key in hand, feeling giddy as I used the key to unlock the heavy rusted padlock. With effort, the heavy chain fell and I pulled it to the side. I got back in the Bronco and pulled it through the entrance, getting out again after I was through to re-lock the chain. I drove for about 5 minutes, my car struggling in only a few places that had an excess of mud, down the dirt path. The path eventually came to an end, where it widened out to a space about the size of three cars. I had been told that this is what it would look like, and felt pride in myself for not screwing any of the directions up yet. I parked the car at the end of the makeshift road, turning off the engine. I peered around me at the massive forest, ferns and moss lining the floor, and massive trees reaching up towards the sky. My eyes found the smaller, narrower footpath that I had been told would lead to my house. Another duplicate chain and sign hung between two trees at the front of this smaller trail, and I took out my next key. Next was the fun part. I pulled my massive hiking pack out from my backseat, unsure if grabbing the groceries as well was a good idea on my first initial hike to the house. I decided against it after feeling the forty pound pack on my shoulders. I began my trek down the path, taking in the greenery around me. I breathed in the cold air, smelling salty sea air mixed in with a fresh and endless scent of dirt and spruce trees. The hike was relatively easy, my excitement and interest in seeing my home for the first time pulling my body along. After a ten minute trek, I saw the outline of a structure begin to take shape in my vision, and almost squealed with anticipation. A few more yards in, and I could see the brown wooden house, an A frame cabin with a chimney that poked from its slanting roof. It had a small porch that wrapped around its perimeter, and a large sign next to it that once again clarified its State-regulated use. I was thankful for the minimal steps up to the porch as I approached the front door, and threw my heavy pack down onto the wooden platform of the porch. I dug into the pocket of my sweats and pulled out my car keys, which had the red key to the house dangling from the round keychain. I gripped the key in my hand, breathing intentionally to calm myself down, and stuffed the key into the lock, turning it until the door allowed me to push it inward. The door creaked just like the Bronco’s, and I smiled as it slowly revealed the interior of the structure. Well, that’s pretty much exactly what you expected, I reminded myself as I took in the small home. The front door opened to a tiny living room on the left that flowed directly into the minimal kitchen on the other side. Between the two sides, a small hallway flowed to the other end of the house, which was only about another 20 feet. I wandered down the hallway slowly, rubbing my hands back and forth on my arms as the icy air that filled the cabin chilled me to my bones. My boss had advised me that they’d left the faucets dripping to prevent the pipes from freezing over completely, and I breathed a sigh of relief to see the kitchen sink leaking ever so slightly. The next room to the right, behind the kitchen, was a small bathroom, and on the left behind the living room was a tiny bedroom with a queen bed. The room had a dresser leaning against one wall and a window that looked out to the forest. I noticed the stack of blankets on the floor that leaned against the bedside table, and knew I’d probably be grateful for those later.
I spent the next hour bringing my groceries, firewood, and supplies from the car to the house. I was told I was allowed to chop felled wood for the wood burning stove in the house, but had known that I wouldn’t have the energy after the long day of traveling and settling in. I was grateful I’d made the decision to buy the firewood, and got the fire started quickly after emptying my car. The small size of the house helped greatly in filling it rapidly with the heat from the stove. I was quick to close the blinds of all the windows, already feeling the reality of my solo isolation settling into my psyche. I locked the door, ensuring to lock in the deadbolt as well, and grabbed my bear spray from my pack, hanging it from one of the coat hooks along the wall by the door. I sighed and got started on dinner, playing music from my phone and swaying around the kitchen as I cooked.
Within a few hours, darkness had fallen on the house, and I was full of Mac and cheese, watching downloaded Netflix episodes on my laptop, strewn across the couch next to the fire. I felt gentle sleep begin to take hold of me, its warm arms wrapping around my body and urging me to close my eyes. I thought I could recall a rustling noise outside the house as sleep pulled me, but it wasn’t enough above the tapping and creaking wind for my brain to register the sound. And with that, I slipped under the immensely heavy blanket of rest, the odd image of a large grey wolf standing among tall pines, and then of Billy Black’s inquisitive expression as he stared at me in the parking lot of Forks grocery store being the last images my brain displayed on the backs of my lids before I was pulled under completely.
…………………………………………………………………………………
A/N: okay, so Harley is literally in the middle of nowhere, yikes, is it crazy to say this is my dream job? Well, maybe if I had a Paul Lahote who was out in those woods somewhere… cough. If you made it to the end of this chapter, you are a warrior. Development for such a niche plot like this is kinda exhausting but really fun! If you’re a romance girlie, I PROMISE this fic is for you. I swear on my LIFE. Just hold on and have faith 😭
➡️NEXT CHAPTER
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stitching-in-time · 1 day ago
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Voyager rewatch s6 ep11: Fair Haven
The one where the Voyager crew discovers cottagecore. Life in space can be so unromantic! But apparently only the crew is allowed to have fun and romance, not the Captain. I don't hate this one as much as the J/C shippers seem to, but I definitely have criticisms. (And some questions about hologram sexytimes. Yeah, it's that kinda episode, folks!)
I'm usually all for silly holodeck dress up playtime in historical costumes, but Fair Haven is a bit too culturally insensitive for comfort. It's idea of a 'quaint Irish village' is full of distinctly American stereotypes of Ireland, and this kind of stuff is why people in the rest of the world think Americans are dumb. Painting late 19th century Ireland as an idyllic Disney-fied paradise feels insensitive or ignorant considering the Irish people were politically oppressed and kept in poverty by English colonizers at the time. (And barely a generation removed from an attempted genocide to boot- the English purposely let the Irish starve during the Potato Famine fyi.)
I like to believe people would have more sensitivity in the 24th century than to treat an actual culture like a theme park, but maybe all that is so far in the past by then that ordinary Starfleet people have no idea about any of that history? That's what I'm telling myself, at least. That would make sense if it's supposed to be Tom's program, since he's into 20th century American history, and so 19th century Ireland would be out of his area of expertise. Honestly, I'd expect Tom would be more likely to recreate a 1950s American town with, like, a drive-in movie theatre and a McDonalds, and a beach with a surf shack. It would be an excuse to get all the women into bikinis, so I'm truly surprised the writers went for this instead. The one time the writer's room being full of sexist horndogs could have helped, and it didn't! But I guess they already had the generic old-timey European town set on the backlot, (it's the same one they used for France in The Killing Game in season 4) so all they had to do was redress it with some Irish signage and voila! (Side note: would there have been bilingual signage like they have here in Ireland in the 1890s?? The English were pretty hardcore about eradicating Celtic language and culture in Ireland, Scotland, and Wales- wouldn't the signs have all been in English at this point? Or were there still enough solely Irish Gaelic speakers in the 1890s that they had to have Irish signage? History tumblr, please enlighten me, I'm curious now!)
But anyway, the crew, obviously bored put of their minds and desperate for novelty and a little cottagecore escapism, somehow all love the Fair Haven program, and the Captain gives them permission to leave it running 24/7 while Voyager weathers a space storm. The captain stops by, takes a shine to the holographic bartender, and soon she's spending more time on the holodeck with her holographic fantasy man. I know the Janeway/Chakotay shippers don't like it, but Captain Janeway is so damn cute and charming when she gets flirty with holo-bartender Michael Sullivan that I just go all heart eyes, and I'm on board with whatever she wants. And there's actually quite a bit of shippy J/C stuff in this one- after Michael asks Captain Janeway if she has a man at home, and she assures him she doesn't, Chakotay immediately shows up, and Janeway looks sheepish like she's been caught in a lie, because her space husband totally just showed up. Chakotay clearly knows what's up with the Captain and Michael, and he seems amused by it more than anything, and teases her over it on the bridge later. He basically even gives her his blessing when Janeway seems embarrassed about romancing a holodeck character, and tells her 'I never let that stop me'(!) CHAKOTAY, WHAT?? You date holodeck characters?! Did he fuck a hologram?! And now he's giving his crush permission to fuck a hologram?? THESE TWO. Talk about matching each other's freak. They're so married, jfc. (But in an open relationship, where they're allowed to fuck holograms lol.)
Why the captain's little holodeck fantasy was deemed worthy of being the A plot of an entire episode, I don't know. Everybody has silly little holodeck fantasies and makes out with a holodeck character every now and then, that's literally what the holodeck is for. Why Captain Janeway should have to feel guilty or bad about it is the real question, and the only answer here is sexism, pure and simple. (Or internalized misogyny, since this was apparently written by a woman.)
Captain Janeway feeling so guilty about being able to change her little holo-bartender's parameters to be whatever she wants him to be, to the point that she feels like she must cast him away because he's too perfect and it's too easy for her, is just weird and nonsensical. It's a fantasy! That's the point! It's supposed to be easy and perfect to distract you from your real life for a little while! And when everything being too perfect gets boring, you move on to another fantasy, which is totally okay, because it's pretend! Everyone needs to have some sort of fantasy world to escape to when life gets too boring or too stressful, that's just a normal part of life. Whether it's through books or movies or video games or a holodeck, it's all the same. Captain Janeway has probably the most stressful job of anyone ever, since she's responsible for 150 people's lives 24/7, most likely for the rest of her life, with no help, no vacations, and no ability to quit, probably ever. She can't even date anyone on board because she's everyone's boss- if ever someone deserved a little holodeck romance escapism, it's her!
In a case of the worst person you know having an excellent point, the Doctor, of all people, points this out to her. Although I think a lot of his gung-ho attitude stems from just being pro-hologram in general, he is absolutely right that Captain Janeway should stop worrying about whether holodeck romance is morally pure or whatever and just let herself enjoy being happy for a while, wherever she can find it.
Eventually Janeway decides to cool it with her holo-boyfriend, because apparently she feels weird about having fucked that hologram. (It's not explicitly shown or stated that she fucked the hologram, but it's heavily implied. Which raises all kinds of really weird questions- like who exactly programmed him to do the deed? Tom originally programmed him to just be a bartender, with no idea that he'd end up Janeway's boytoy. Did the Captain add some new sexytimes subroutines to her specifications? Do all holocharacters just have sexytimes subroutines built in? Or, worst of all, did Tom program him with sexytimes subroutines from the beginning? Which could be the real reason Janeway is having an existential crisis- she didn't just fuck any hologram, she fucked a hologram that Tom Paris taught how to do it. Ohmygod. It's like the time they turned into lizards and had lizard sex all over again- they keep getting into awkward quasi-sexual situations together. Janeway probably had a mental image of Tom going all hologram Leah Brahams like: 'Every time you fuck that hologram, you're fucking me!' and then just noped on out of the whole situation, lmao! How is this episode even a real thing?!)
Anyway, after bidding Michael a fond farewell, she saves his program for later, after locking herself out of modifying his program further, which is yet more dumb, sexist nonsense. So even in their own private fantasies, women are supposed to limit themselves so that they don't get too carried away with- what? being happy? being in control? The air of puritanical, sexist nonsense that hangs over this episode is something I hope we as a society will have finally rid ourselves of by the 24th century. Good grief.
The only really fun parts of this episode were seeing the crew in cute 19th century outfits (Tom in a newsboy cap! Harry in his suit and straw boater!! The captain in her corset dress with her updo hair and no makeup!! And are those her real freckles?! adorbs!!!), and seeing Captain Janeway get to have her little romance, complete with a Jack and Rose Titanic dance moment. I honestly wonder how much of this Fair Haven idea was influenced by the Titanic mania that was everywhere around this time- it had been the big movie the year before this aired, and Irish music was having a definite moment after the third-class dance scene with Jack and Rose in Titanic, which this reminded me so much of. Of course Kate Mulgrew actually has Irish ancestry, so maybe they wanted a setting that she'd fit into well. But I'm a little surprised she wouldn't take issue with the whole 'drunken Irishmen getting into a bar fight in a pub' scene- that's a pretty negative old-timey stereotype. But, who knows, maybe she did, and they just didn't care. Nobody seemed to be too concerned with what is or isn't offensive in this ep!
Tl;dr: An episode that wasn't as much fun as it wanted to be because it was overly concerned with whether or not it's morally pure or acceptable for women to have fantasies, and which came to the sexist conclusion that it's okay, as long as they feel guilty about it and police themselves accordingly. Gag.
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hekate1308 · 3 months ago
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Fictober #19, This Is Getting Ridiculous
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Prompt: This Is Getting Ridiculous
Fandom: Father Brown
Pairing: Inspector Sullivan/Sid Carter
“This is getting ridiculous, wouldn’t you say, Father?” Lady Felicia asks one day as they are having tea in the rectory garden.
While he is aware that she is prone to overexaggeration, much as dear Mrs. M is prone to taking the Bible too seriously, and has long since grown accustomed to their respective… well… spleens, he simply raises an eyebrow and asks, “What exactly is ridiculous, Lady F?”
“Oh, don’t act like that. Sid and the dear inspector. You have to admit it’s obvious, only they won’t admit it to themselves.”
He has to say that, as of late, it truly is rather mysterious as to why these two have not been able to figure things out. Sid has not done any breaking and entering in months, unless it be for a case, and Inspector Sullivan has grown more and more lenient in certain ways, to the point where he will only put up a token it of resistance when Father Brown himself shows up at a crime scene. Honestly, it’s sort of a nice change of pace, even if he says so himself.
Still – there are some things they have to consider because, despite God declaring that love comes from him and as such is a gift to be treasured, there are people who do not agree, who think that some forms of love should not be allowed, that it is sinful when it truly is not, when it really could not be, not like this, when both of them clearly feel the same.
It’s rather sad, and he wishes the world were different, despite living in the best possible world, naturally, but still…
“It does appear that the inspector is no longer nearly as annoyed with Sid as he used to be” he therefore declares diplomatically, because it’s the closest he can come to actually admitting any of this out loud out of sheer habit, and she gives him a knowing smile.
“I think it’s time to... encourage them wouldn’t you say?”
”I don’t think the Inspector would like that very much” is his honest answer.
“Oh he’ll thank me later” she says and he knows from experience that eh can’t dissuade her, but at least he has a good enough opinion of the inspector’s heart not to worry too much.
As it turns out in the coming weeks, Lady felicia’s plan is to throw them together as much as possible and hope for the best. Which might of course work, but at the same time, eh has the feeling that the inspector might need a bit more encouragement than that. Sid – oh, he’s under no delusions in that regard. Sid is probably more than ready to throw caution to the wind, but then, he’s not working for the police and has seen the inside of a jail more than once, even though until now he’s gotten off lightly.
And so, he watches the two of them clear out lady F’s shed because apparently the Gardner doesn’t have time, which is a lie, or work away on her car, because for some reason the chauffeur seems to have gone the way of the gardener (at elates that’s an activity they both enjoy) and then, on a rather memorable occasion, keep the two small girls of her visiting cousin occupied (as it turns out to no one’s surprise, the good inspector is better at keeping everyone in check while Sid takes care of the entertainment).
As far as he can tell, at least they seem to be getting along now, and to no longer pretend that they don’t like each other, although they clearly have not gone any further…
Again, it is not his life, and he really should not know about this, thinking of the church, so he decides to let things take their course, and it seems that they do, about two weeks later, if he is right.
He certainly has never seen Inspector Sullivan smile at a crime scene, but the real surprise is that he simply looks at him and shrugs. “Coming to take a guess, Father?”
“I just want to pray for the poor soul, and see if I can identify them.”
“In that case… be my guest.”
He decides not to comment because certainly the inspector has his reasons.
Said reasons how up ten minutes on their favorite motorbike and Father brown, even if he does say so himself, does a very good impression of a man who is much too busy realizing why the inspector is hurrying over the street.
Even so, he catches Sergeant Goodfellow’s eyes and they smiled at one another.
At least he will be able to tell Lady Felicia that all is well the next time she comes over for tea. If she has not yet noticed herself, that is.
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limitlesswritingvoid · 17 days ago
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Writemas days 22/23
Had to combine these two days because I’ve had Christmas parties with family but here’s some writing of my son!
Prompts I used-(day 22)- The feast was foul, the food as wrecked as the fractured plates it sat upon. And, "It's a time for celebration, wipe that frown from your face." (Day 23)- “One day, the purpose you serve shall be greater than this."
*Song I dedicate to this piece*
(Writemas challenge created by @agirlandherquill , entry below the cut!)
“Mother,” the Lystean queen’s voice faltered for a moment, “will you please refrain from smoking in front of my children?”
Elena Blitz exhaled a puff of smoke. “Calm down, dear, there’s really nothing wrong with Luminleaf, it just helps me relax.” She smiled.
Leo tried to cough up the smell of his grandmother’s arrogance as he sat down at the long table.
"It's a time for celebration, wipe that frown from your face." Elena blew embers of the green roll of herbs. Turning to the queen she sighed, “is the boy always like this?”
Queen Laura Blitz turned to her son with oceans of sorrow in her eyes. She knew how much Leo hated seeing his grandmother, she knew because she hated seeing Elena, too.
“And what exactly are we supposed to be celebrating, grandmother?” Leo asked, tilting his head.
Elena picked up a bell, swinging it by the handle. The castle maids flocked to her side with bottles of cherry-red wine like rabid dogs to a whistle. “We are celebrating a triumph over our enemies,” she cheered, her too loud, too high-pitched voice whistling through the gaps in her yellowing, wine-stained teeth.
“Let me guess,” the oldest child of the royal family of Lystearia pointed her fork at the apple in the mouth of the cooked pig at the head of the dinner table, blood dripping from the mouth onto the tablecloth. “You sent a group of soldiers to bomb a hospital.”
“Annalise Blitz!” Laura gasped, dropping her knife to the, practically reflective, polished stone floor.
“Thinking that way is what led little Lynn to run away.” Elena shook her head as she picked at the steaming greens on her plate. The feast was foul, the food as wrecked as the fractured plates it sat upon. Leo was glad his father was on a diplomatic trip across the sea, he couldn’t deal with two insufferable family members at this point.
“Then what are we celebrating?” Annalise asked, “if not the horrible ideals of our nation?”
“The Nyxerian princess has been banished. Dianna Sullivan will soon be gone, we will never worry about her again.”
“I believe you are the only one who worries of her,” Annalise mumbled, “I thought Adaeze was a lovely girl.”
“Her name is not Adaeze.” Elena slammed her hand to the table, flipping the smallest plate, which sat at the smallest princess’s seat.
“My apologies,” Annalise replied, “Dianna was a lovely girl.”
Elena, clearly dissatisfied with the apology, cleared her throat, turning to face Leo. She said, “Now, would you like to do the honors, young king?” She passed the bottle to Leo.
“Mother, he’s twelve,” Laura reached out to grab the bottle.
“He will be king.” Elena insisted, forcing the bottle into his hands. "One day, the purpose you serve shall be greater than this, but for now I need you to pour me a glass of wine.” She laughed. It was odd, the Lystean royals could laugh over a meal that cost them more than a middle class Umbrahnean family’s monthly meal cost while the child they celebrated watched warm blood drip down her forehead. How ironic the world could be.
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didgeriduwu · 6 months ago
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Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: Team Fortress 2
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)
Characters: Scout (Team Fortress 2), Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Medic (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2), Scout's Mother (Team Fortress 2), Other Character Tags to Be Added
Additional Tags: Trans Scout (Team Fortress 2), Trans Male Scout (Team Fortress 2), Trans Male Character, Tokophobia Warning, Pregnancy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, (i guess it depends on your definition), Emotionally Repressed Sniper (Team Fortress 2), oh god just communicate you fucks, Established Relationship, Situationship?, Spy is Scout's Parent (Team Fortress 2), no beta I have no friends, Medic is a cunt i love him, Scout's Ma is the best, Discussion of Abortion, Unplanned Pregnancy, almost forgot that one
Summary: Sniper and Scout's relationship is in limbo, and neither seems to know if or how to fix it. Unexpected news finally forces a change, but whether it'll be for better or for worse is anyone's guess.
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Three weeks. Jeremy had three weeks before he started to ‘show’; That’s what the doc had said, at least. Well, he’d actually said that most people started to show then. Same thing, right? Jeremy plunged his hands into his hoodie’s front pockets only to pull them out right away; his stomach felt… different already. He thought back to the image of himself in the mirror that morning, shirt rolled up to his armpits and his belly…
Nope! Not thinkin’ bout that. Jeremy yanked his mind back to the problem at hand. He had three weeks before the secret was out. Three weeks to figure out what he was going to do, and then do it. It was as simple as that.
It stopped seeming so simple pretty much immediately.
Jeremy stared down the barrel of Teufort’s only public payphone and tried to work up the nerve to dial his Ma’s number. He’d tried twice before, only to slam the handset back into its cradle before reaching the last digit.
Third time’s the charm.
Jeremy quickly dialed the number and closed his eyes. He waited three rings before his courage failed him. The handset’s swift journey home was interrupted by his Ma’s voice.
“Doyle residence, you’ve got Gracie.”
Jeremy froze with the handset an inch away from its rest.
“Hello-oo, anybody there? You called me, ya know.”
He brought the mouthpiece closer. “Uh, hi Ma.”
“Jeremy! I thought you were one of those Sullivan kids trying to prank me again. Did I tell ya I made ‘em clean your brother’s car top to bottom? That’ll teach ‘em not to throw eggs! Did a real good job of it too, I musta scared the livin’ daylights out of ‘em. Oh! Did ya hear about Mrs. Jenkins? I heard…”
The only person Jeremy had ever met who could out-talk him was his mother. Most of the time, he loved having someone who could keep up. He lived for his Sunday calls, in part because he could have a conversation where he didn’t feel like he was talking to himself most of the time.
Today though, he was too bogged down in dread to keep up. “Ma, I need to talk to ya ‘bout somethin’ important. You gotta promise not to be mad at me, though. Do ya promise not to be mad at me?”
“Should I be mad at you? What did ya do, Jer?” Gracie gave the same long-suffering sigh she always did when one of her boys got into trouble. She never quite managed to hide the affection in it, despite her best efforts. “Do ya need bailin’ out again, cause-”
“Ma, please just promise.”
Gracie must have registered the uncertainty in his voice because her next words were softer. Slower. “I promise. Cross my heart n’ hope to die. What’s goin’ on, hon?”
“I’m uh-” He swallowed. Please don’t be mad at me. “I’m uh… pregnant?”
All Jeremy could hear for a moment was the faint buzzing of the phone line, and then: “Is that a question or a statement, Jer?”
“Wha-?”
Her voice was terrifyingly even. “Are ya telling me or are ya asking me?”
“Oh, uh, telling. The Doc says I’m seven-” Jeremy took a second to do the math. “I guess nine now. Nine weeks along.”
A sigh, then in a sympathetic tone. “Ya must really be feeling it now then, huh hon?”
“Yeah.” Jeremy breathed relief through the word. Suddenly all the complaints he’d been holding on to for the last week spilled out. “I’m so frickin’ sick all the time and I constantly need to pee. Like, constantly, Ma. Every five minutes, at least. And I’m cryin’ over nothin’. Yesterday I almost cried over dropping a bag of chips and… oh god, it's happening again.” He swiped violently at his eyes, trying to stop the tears from escaping down his cheeks. “Why am I so frickin’ stupid?”
“Oh honey, you’re not stupid! You’re just full of weird hormones, and I’d bet ya haven’t slept a full night for a while, huh?” At Jeremy’s hum of assent, she continued. “I was exactly the same with my first. Your brother didn’t make it easy on me! I was so sick the doctor had to put me on these awful pills. And then when he started movin’! That kid would not stay still for a minute! But in the end, I got Robbie out of it, and I wouldn’t trade ‘im for the world. Wouldn’t trade any o’ you kids.”
Silence filled the line for a few seconds. The smile that had grown on Jeremy’s face as she spoke slowly began to fade. The next words from him came in a whisper. “What do I do, Ma?”
“I can’t tell ya that, Jerbear.”
Jeremy sighed. “I thought ya might say that.”
“Listen, you got options now, hon. Ones I didn’t have at your age. I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t love to have another grandbaby runnin’ around, but what I want more is for my baby boy to be happy. Ya got that?”
Jeremy swallowed. “Yeah.”
“Good. Don’t let that fella of yours tell ya what to do about this either, alright? It’s your body.”
That was a can of worms Jeremy refused to even touch right now. “I won’t, Ma.”
“Attaboy. Now, I gotta go pick up your nephew. Lil’ Sammy’s on the honour roll, did I tell ya that? Anyway, I promised we’d go get ice cream today to celebrate. Do ya wanna call me back in like an hour?”
Jeremy felt a stab of homesickness and… something else. Something he didn’t want to think about too much. “That’s okay, Ma. I’m pretty tired. Give Sam an extra scoop for me, okay?”
Gracie gave a laugh that wasn’t too dissimilar to her youngest son’s. “Your brother might kill ya for that. He’s gotta get that kid to sleep tonight.”
“Pfft. He can try but ya know he’ll never catch me.” Jeremy gave a watery grin and a laugh that surprised him. “Besides, he can’t kill a pregnant guy. There are laws against that kinda stuff!”
“There’s my Jer!” He heard his Ma smiling through the phone. “Remember hon, whatever happens you can always come home.”
“You’re really not mad at me, then?” The words slipped from his throat before he could stop them.
“Well, I’m not gonna disown ya or anythin’ if that’s what you’re worried about.” Gracie paused for a moment. “Ya know, I always thought I would be mad, but right now I just wish I could give ya a hug. Besides, I bet you’re probably mad enough for the both of us.”
“Yeah, I could really do with a hug right now.” Jeremy felt a pang of loneliness, even as some of the burden he’d been carrying fell from his shoulders. “Thank you, Ma. You’re the best. I love you.”
“I love you too, Jer. Always.”
What he was doing was wrong - even Spy knew that - but it had been weeks of this absurdité. Spy had spotted Scout dart off in the middle of battle to expel the contents of his stomach too many times. He’d watched the bags under the runner’s eyes grow darker day by day. Merde, he’d even noticed a case of Bonk! left undisturbed for days in the Mess’s fridge.
Non. It was no use speculating. There was something wrong with his son, and Spy had to find out what it was. So he waited. He bided his time for the perfect moment to strike and when he spotted Jeremy heading toward town on a Sunday afternoon, Spy didn’t hesitate; He flicked open his Spytron and slipped into the guise of his son.
Thin light shone weakly through the infirmary doors’ circular windows, signaling the doctor was in. Spy had never managed to shake the feeling that they were two monstrous eyes peering at him, as foolish as that notion was. He hated this place, but he’d seen Scout headed here more times in the past week than he had in all of the previous years combined, and Spy knew that this was the best place to find answers.
Medic only looked up briefly when he entered, flicking his eyes back to whatever gory experiment he was working on. “Ah, Herr Scout! I do hope zhis time you have made a decision, ja?” The German seemed annoyed, voice dripping with especially false cheer.
Spy jumped up on the examination table in one swift motion, ignoring the twinge of pain in his knees that told him he wasn’t so young anymore. “Uh not yet, Doc. I dunno what ta choose. Could we go ovah da options again?”
Medic looked at him then, eyes narrowing as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. A sigh escaped him. “One moment, Herr Scout.”
Spy watched as the German wandered over to rifle through a cabinet. “Now where did I leave it? Not zhere. Nein..” He worked his way through three drawers before finally: “Ah-ha! Zhere it is.”
“What’s dat you got- AH!” Spy howled at the wickedly large needle that had quite suddenly become one with the palm of his hand. “C’est quoi ce bordel?” [What the fuck! Literally: What is this mess? Even more literally: What is this brothel?] Spy looked up to see the business end of a crossbow aimed at his head.
“RED or BLU?” Medic demanded.
“Quoi-”
“RED or BLU? I suppose I vould find out if I killed you right now, but zen I’d have to leave my lab to find out vhy you are here. I’m a busy man, Herr Spy, so just spit it out.”
Slowly, Spy used his good hand to retrieve the disguise kit from his pocket. “BLU.” He said, as the image of Scout dissolved into smoke around him. “I am on your team, see?”
Medic sniffed. “I have never been entirely convinced of zhat.” He lowered his crossbow, nonetheless. “I assume you are here about Herr Scout?”
Spy considered lying, but the glint in the good doctor’s eye told him it would be fruitless. “Oui.”
“Wunderbar! I’ve prepared a brief for you.” Medic flung a manilla folder into the Frenchman’s lap. Spy scrambled to keep it from sliding off.
“You were expecting me?”
“Of course! I had assumed you vould be here much earlier, to be honest.” Medic turned his attention to the syringe still lodged in Spy’s palm. In one swift motion, he tore it out.
Spy’s accompanying cry was in anger as well as pain. “Why the fuck did you stab me then?”
“Zhat vas just for fun! No dangerous untested pharmaceuticals here!” His gleeful chuckle was far from reassuring. “Now, out! I’m busy! Raus! Raus!”
Spy didn’t question that as he slid off the examination table. He’d worked in intelligence long enough to know when it was better not to know. There was one thing, however, he couldn’t help but ask.
Smoke engulfed him for a moment, before the visage of Scout once again replaced his own. With that uncouth Boston twist, Spy asked: “Outta interest, Doc, what gave me away?”
“Oh zhat?” Medic let out a terrifying giggle, eyes on the place where the Bostonian’s usual red t-shirt was tucked into the waist of his baseball knickers. “Your image of him is out of date. Did you not zhink Herr Scout has put on a little… veight, recently?”
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flameswallower · 1 year ago
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Briar's Favorite First Time Reads of 2023!
I read sixty or so books (start to finish) for the first time this year, which is pretty average for me. I liked most of them pretty well, since if I dislike a book I usually won't finish it. But there were some stand outs, which I'm going to list here.
First up: NOVELS!
Pseudotooth, by Verity Holloway (2017) is the first portal fantasy coming of age novel I've read in a long, long time that I found genuinely charming. It has a very dark Gothic edge to it, with shades of Gormenghast and Edward Gorey making for a uniquely unsettling and bleak fantasy world. The novel also deals frankly and seriously with themes of ableism, eugenics, medical abuse, xenophobia, socio-economic class, rape/sexual abuse, and the psychic fallout of rape/sexual abuse. But it's got a lot of whimsical absurdist humor to it, too, and a deep humanist compassion for its characters. The three young adults at the center of the story are all quite likeable, and though they are involved in a kind of love triangle, I found the particulars of it refreshingly queer, strange, and not the primary focus of the story.
The Marigold, by Andrew F. Sullivan (2023) is a pitch-dark, stone cold bummer that is also frequently hilarious and emotionally moving in tender ways that took me by surprise. In this dystopian satire, a bunch of down-and-out relatable characters and one horrible rich guy struggle to survive as near-future Toronto is engulfed by "the Wet"-- a sapient mold-based hive mind accidentally created by the depravity and greed of big business. The residents of the titular condominium/apartment complex feature in short vignettes that demonstrate the despair and alienation people suffer under late stage capitalism, and the way the Wet calls to these people, lures them in, hunts them.
The Open Curtain, by Brian Evenson (2006) is a harrowing nightmare about madness, violence, possession, Mormonism, and the destabilization of one's known reality (well, see also "madness"). It's a type of story that could easily feel shlocky and exploitative of people with certain mental disorders, or just predictable (there are some plot twists you'll guess very quickly if you've ever like...read books or seen movies before...), but Evenson's unornamented yet masterful prose, his meticulous attention to detail, and his non-condescending empathy for both victims of violence and people struggling with delusions, violent impulses, etc. make it rise above those potential problems. At least in my opinion! This one's very disturbing, will definitely leave you feeling like shit.
Hummingbird Salamander, by Jeff VanderMeer (2021) is very emotionally moving and a suspenseful, well-plotted eco-noir page turner! Also a bummer, but leaves one feeling awe and hope and determination as well as mourning the devastating loss of life that climate change has wrought. The protagonist is great, a truly unusual and unlikely detective. I loved her voice-- like any good noir hero, she can throw off a legitimately funny sarcastic quip with the best of them, but she's also prone to astute social observations and flights of breathtaking lyricism.
How to Get Over the End Of the World, by Hal Schrieve (2023) is a TRAGICALLY under-promoted and underrated punk rock magical realist YA masterpiece about trans high schoolers, and their dysfunctional adult mentors, putting on a rock opera to save their community center. This one, unlike most of what I read, is NOT EVEN KIND OF A BUMMER. It's delightful and hilarious from start to finish, though it's definitely not saccharine-sweet or afraid of conflict. In fact, it deals quite bluntly and refreshingly with topics ranging from the relationship one character has with his violent, abusive father, to sexual relationships between teenagers, to the ever-looming awareness of climate change. Every major character is trans! Every single one!! This is kind of a spoiler, but, like, not really lol
Sudden Glory, by Hal Johnson (2023) just goes to show that guys named Hal can really write comic novels. This book has perhaps the highest joke-to-paragraph ratio of anything I’ve ever read, and also probably the most varied types of joke: a person whose sense of humor runs to preposterous situation comedy, slapstick, and lowbrow sexual humor will find a lot to like here, and so will someone whose sense of humor runs to moderately esoteric literary/historical references, social satire, five-layer wordplay, and Wildean bon mots. Since it’s set in the New York City of 2003, there’s even room for a few 9/11 jokes, which could not have appeared without controversy in a book actually published in 2003. This slightly "politically incorrect" edge comes off as good-natured and in keeping with Johnson's commitment to absurdism-- there's never a "laughing at" vibe, more one of "laughing with" human folly, futility, pretensions, etc. At base, this is a story about a person who feels he can't tell the truth or be himself for fear of social rejection, and all the trouble that gets him into.
Piranesi, by Susanna Clarke (2020) is fucking gorgeous, probably one of my favorite books of all time now, this hole was made for me, etc. I can't reasonably expect that most others will have as intense a response to it as I did-- I felt it perfectly conveyed some very important and difficult to articulate things about, like, my personal experience of consciousness, and my experience as a person with certain types of neurological/cognitive/developmental disability navigating the world, through a kind of fabulist prism. But it got great reviews, so, you know, give it a shot! I think it's better not to know anything about it going in, but let me just say, if you're into weird, massive labyrinthine buildings, this hole might also have been made for you.
Devil House, by John Darnielle (2022) is exactly the novel you'd expect "the Mountain Goats guy" to write, in all the best possible ways. It's a story that elevates the inner lives of neurodivergent outsider teens to the mythic heights they deserve. It's a story that brutally critiques the true crime industry. It's a story about the problems of defining people exclusively by their victimhood, or exclusively by the worst thing they ever did. It's a story about the importance of having a little space to oneself, a shelter from the demands and threats of an often cruel world, and the lengths to which a person will go to defend such a shelter if it's broached. Also, there's a long, nauseating section about how it's actually really difficult and gross to chop up a human corpse for disposal.
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