#and i also changed up the one corner next to the entrance and gave her a little vanity and changed up what clothes were hung up on the wall

[lyssafreyguy]

speaking of my villagers' houses I went back into Francine and O'Hare's houses just to adjust them a teeny tiny bit and I'm so so much happier with them like I might go back into everyone else's houses real quick just to make sure there aren't any other little changes I might wanna make before the dream address gets uploaded

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 6

Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: Language, mentions of complicated birth, blood

A/N: Hi, loves! Sorry for going MIA for a week, but in my defense, I gave you a heads up. 🙈 These next few weeks are unfortunately going to be like that, but I’m trying my best to proofread everything in time. I’ll also reply to everyone as soon as I can!!! Thank you for your patience and support. 🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 5 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

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The gunshot cracked through the streets, cutting through the night like a bad omen. You pulled Emma close as your heart was hammering relentlessly in your chest. The silence that followed only sharpened your fear. Eyes shut tight, you forced yourself to breathe, clinging to one thought: Please, don’t let it be Russell. Not like this. Not now. Not when you saw a flicker of hope of not only escaping this nightmare, but also of maybe finally finding some closure for everything left unsaid between you.

Your whole life flashed through your mind, choppy and absurdly fast like a Charlie Chaplin-movie.  If it weren’t for the terror, you might’ve laughed at how comically swift and disjointed the images came, like a slapstick comedy, only it wasn’t funny.

Your mind drifted to those first moments, four years ago, that had changed everything. You could see those two unmistakable blue lines on the pregnancy test, clear as an August sky, no room for doubt. You could also see the way your body started to tremble at the weight of it and how you clung to your sister, Anna, who tried her best to comfort you while also nagging you to tell her what’s the matter.  

You also remembered the first time you held Emma the day she was born - well, technically the day after she was born. She had decided to make a dramatic entrance, tangling herself in her umbilical cord. You’d been knocked out cold from the emergency C-section, missing the whole thing. In hindsight, probably for the best; your nerves would’ve been shot otherwise. But when you finally held her, all that worry and exhaustion melted away as she looked up at you with those big, curious eyes, and just like that, she had you wrapped around her tiny fingers. 

You held her then, almost the same way you were holding her now, though you tried to shove that comparison to the back of your mind. 

The memory of your parents’ first meeting with her was also vivid. Your dad, who’d been all fire and brimstone about Russell – and let’s be honest, your unplanned pregnancy – had melted the second he saw Emma’s bright green eyes. You’d never seen him, the tough, no-nonsense mechanic, act so soft. It was like watching a grizzly suddenly turn into a teddy bear. Your mom, of course, was over the moon, but you expected that. She’s always been your biggest cheerleader, besides Anna. Your dad, though, was also someone you could always count on, but there was something different about your bond with him.

As these memories flashed by, it hit you like a ton of bricks: they must be out of their minds with worry. You hadn’t told them about Colter Shaw’s involvement in finding Emma, and they had no clue that calling him was basically inviting Russell into the picture, to invite him into this mess. The irony, of course, being that this very mess had started with him – even if he hadn’t exactly meant for things to spiral into a nightmare.

You can’t help but think back to how you and Russell first met – it felt like fate with a side of fries. He was sitting in a corner booth at the diner where you worked, trying to figure out the menu like it was written in hieroglyphs. That Cream t-shirt of his clung to his broad shoulders in just the right way, and the dim lighting made him look like something out of a movie. A guy who looked that good and had killer music taste? Yeah, you knew you were doomed.

At the time, you were pulling double shifts to scrape together enough to pay for the student loan you took out years ago, feeling every inch of burnout creeping in. But then there was Russell, glancing up at you with a gaze so intense it could’ve burned a hole through the laminated menu. The moment you stepped up to take his order, his eyes locked onto yours like he’d found what he was looking for… and for almost three years, they never really left.

“Y/N?” A voice cut through your spiraling thoughts. 

Your ears perked up and then the voice spoke up again.

“It’s safe. You can come out now.” 

Colter. Calm and steady, as always.

Your eyes flew open and you peeked around the tree and saw the aftermath. There was Colter, standing tall with his gun lowered, surveying the scene. And sprawled on the ground, clutching his shoulder and looking about as smug as a wet rat was Rourke, blood seeping through his fingers. Couldn’t have happened to a better guy. 

But Colter wasn’t alone. Officers from the Springland Sheriff’s Department marched in behind him with raised guns, all sporting that famous TV-cop focus. The sheriff himself was there, giving Rourke a look like he was mentally listing all the charges he’d be writing up. His men had Rourke’s goons pinned. Now that their great boss was down, they didn’t seem too keen to put on a fight. Their faces looked like they’d just been sucker-punched by surprise. 

And they weren’t the only ones.

You held Emma tight, inching out from behind the tree, eyes scanning frantically until you found Russell. He was there, standing over Rourke, right where the standoff had left them. He seemed unharmed, aside from the bruises and cuts he was already sporting.

Thank God.

He looked just as shocked as you to see his brother here, surrounded by cops. Russell wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with law enforcement – his years at Horizon as a black ops agent made him wary of trusting any man with badges. But today? He looked downright relieved to see so many uniforms. 

On the pavement, Rourke gritted his teeth, trying to hold onto whatever shred of authority he had left.

“Shaw, you little –what, you brought some friends?” His voice was strained, all his earlier swagger bleeding out along with the blood from his shoulder.

Russell shot his brother a look that could’ve covered a dozen emotions, then glanced at the walking douche with the pornstache. “Guess you should’ve checked that warehouse a little better.” 

The sheriff stepped forward, his face all business as he looked down at Rourke. “James Rourke” he said, his voice tinged with authority as he put the man in handcuffs, “you’re under arrest for kidnapping, assault, conspiracy, human trafficking, and about a dozen other charges I’ll happily review once we’re at the station. Don’t worry, We’ve got just enough time until the feds get here.”

The feds? And human trafficking?

Before you could think any further, Russell stepped closer to you and Emma, and without any hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you two. You could feel how the weight of it all fell off his shoulders as he let himself melt in this moment. He felt that this moment, right here, is going to be something he’ll always remember. You hesitated, but seeing Emma already snuggled up to him, you decided to let yourself lean in. Just a little.

As he held you both, Russell glanced up and spotted Reenie walking alongside Colter. Reenie, no doubt, was behind the intel that finally exposed Rourke. For years, Russell had suspected that Rourke was running something shady, a side hustle no one in Morello’s circle knew about. And he was right. Rourke was overseeing an entire underground trafficking network, bringing in young, vulnerable women, and doing it all without Morello’s knowledge. 

Rourke was smart enough to keep his illegal dealings separate from Morello’s empire at Horizon. If Morello had known, he would’ve shut it down immediately, but Rourke kept it quiet, carefully concealed behind the black ops company he worked for. Rourke had always been good at playing both sides. Loyal enough to keep up appearances with Morello, but greedy enough to carve out his own profits on the side. The money was too good to walk away from, and that’s why he kept it hidden so well. He’d threatened Russell to stay quiet, and for a while, Russell had listened, against his better judgment. He regretted it every day.

But the minute he tried to walk away, to cut ties, Rourke made sure he understood that there was no leaving without consequences. Technically, he was Russell’s superior.

If you wanted out, you paid the price. 

And that price had been higher than Russell ever expected.

Reenie caught his eye, her lips curving into a subtle but unmistakable smile. He gave her a quick nod – a silent thank-you he knew he could never fully repay. Not to her, and not to Colter. 

The sheriff nodded to his team, signaling them to move. Two officers stepped forward, dragging Rourke to his feet with little care for dignity. His eyes flared with anger, but the fight was gone.

“You can try to take me down, but this isn’t over” he snarled. His gaze darted to Russell, who remained let go of the two of you as he faced his ex son of a bitch boss. “You really think you’ve won? You think a few pretty words from your little sheriff buddy will save you? I have people everywhere. I’ll get out. And when I do…”

As he was led past you, Rourke’s gaze landed on you and Emma, his eyes narrowing in a way that made your skin crawl.

Russell’s voice cut through, icy and unshakable. “It’s over, James. With the mountain of evidence I’m about to gift-wrap for the feds, you’re not seeing daylight anytime this century. So get cozy with prison food – and try to make some friends.” 

“We know about your little side hustles, Rourke.” Reenie spoke up. “Made sure your bosses do now, too. This’ll stick, for good.”

“Oh, and don’t worry” Russell added with a smirk. “I’ll be sure to send a postcard from the outside.”

Rourke’s expression twisted with contempt as he was led out to the sheriff’s car with the rest of his men, who had been swiftly rounded up by the officers. As the street cleared, silence fell, broken only by the occasional shuffling as the officers began to file out, satisfied that Rourke was finally out of commission.

Colter turned back to you, his face softening as he took in the sight of Emma clinging to you. “You’re alright?” he asked as he looked between you, Russell, and your daughter. It was the first time it seemed to click for him. He had a niece.

“We’re fine” you replied, still sounding like you’d been hit by a truck. The shock was still working its way through you, and you weren’t sure if you were still breathing properly. “Colter, I– there aren’t words. Thank you. How– How did you know where we were? And what happened–”

Colter gave a small, reassuring smile. “I know you have a lot of questions, and I promise I will answer all of them” he said simply. “But you have other issues at hand.” he nodded towards his brother. Russell nodded next to you, and after patting his brother on the shoulder they exchanged a brief hug, awkward and stiff, like two grown men who were both allergic to affection. You couldn’t help but notice that, for a moment, they actually seemed... human. 

You didn’t know much about their connection, Russell had always kept his family history under wraps. But you weren’t blind. You could tell there was some sort of tension between them, some unspoken history – but you knew it wasn't the time or place to ask questions. Still, seeing them like this, even for a moment, was kind of... nice. You weren’t sure if it was the whole "brotherly love" thing or just the fact that they managed to put aside whatever baggage they were hauling around. Either way, it was kind of refreshing to see them looking like, well, brothers for once.

After a couple of seconds, Russell stepped back. “How did you pull this off?”

Colter shrugged, a grin slipping onto his face. “Had some favors to cash in from the Springland Sheriff’s Department. Figured they’d be interested in getting their hands on a guy like Rourke after the things Reenie uncovered about him. Turns out, I was right.”

Russell nodded, a newfound respect in his eyes. And at least he now knew where they were. Not even that far away from Idaho Falls. “Guess I owe you one. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“You owe me more than one, but we can settle that later.” Colter smirked. “The cops want to take the girls into the hospital for a medical check up. Good luck with convincing them” he smirked and with that, he strolled over to the attorney, Reenie as you recently learned. If you squinted, you could’ve sworn there was something more in the way they spoke to each other. But Colter was right. There were more pressing things to focus on than whatever unspoken story was between them.

The cool night air hit you like a shock as you exhaled deeply, letting the chilly wind breeze through your body. It was over. Really, truly over. You turned to Russell, overwhelmed with a mix of gratitude, relief and unresolved tension. You both stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do with the silence between you. It was the first time you were face-to-face with reality, without the distraction of searching for Emma or pretending not to notice the elephant in the room.

“I know you don’t want to“ he began, holding up a hand before you could get a word in. “But you and Emma need to check into the hospital. Just to be sure she’s okay, no hidden bumps or bruises.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head, a little smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t try to be a hero. Do it for her, if not for yourself. And…maybe a little for me, too” His eyes softened as he looked at you both. “I need to know you’re safe. After everything that just went down, I don’t think I could handle one more surprise tonight.”

You could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing down on him. It wasn’t the usual tough-guy act, but something raw and real.

With a sigh, you nodded. “Fine. But only because you’re looking at me like you’re about to pass out on the spot.” You paused, giving him a pointed look. “But only on one condition. You come with us.”

Russell blinked, clearly thrown off by your request. He probably expected you to give him some kind of cold shoulder routine, maybe even throw in a few snide comments for good measure. But no, instead, here you were, asking him to join you and Emma at the hospital. Progress? Maybe. Or maybe you were just too tired to argue anymore. Either way, the surprise was written all over his face.

Still, he smiled faintly as a reluctant agreement when he glanced at Emma standing next to you. She was staring up at him, her little face so adorably and comically pleading, showing that she was clearly not ready to let him go. Goddamn puppy eyes, he thought. And they were working. “Guess I don’t have much choice, huh?”

You gave him a look that was part teasing, part serious. “Not really.”

A few deputies had gathered around, ready to escort you to Springland Hospital. Russell glanced at them briefly, then let out a small amused smile. 

As the three of you made your way toward the cars, you couldn't help but feel the weight of the moment. Things weren’t magically fixed between you and Russell, far from it. There was still so much left unsaid, so much tension hanging in the air between you two. But maybe, this was a step in the right direction.

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Anna had been pacing for what felt like a century. Two days of no news, no word, no nothing. First, Emma vanished. Then you. Anna knew you better than anyone, that sister-sense always worked well between you, so she could feel the weight of your usual nervous, anxious energy magnified tenfold. After Emma went missing, it was only natural that her thoughts veered to the worst-case scenario – what if you had done something… irreversible?

She’d been on the phone with your parents non-stop, but no one knew a damn thing. They have been just as on the edge. You just disappeared, leaving no trace behind. And Anna? She wasn’t about to leave your house. No way. Someone had to be here, in case you both randomly showed up like nothing happened.

It had been two days. Two days of staring at the door, waiting for it to open, praying you and Emma would walk in, hand in hand, ready to explain what the hell just happened.

Her thoughts stopped, a glimmer of hope flashing through her chest as she heard the sound of keys rattling at the door. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. It had to be you. No one else had a key besides her and your parents.

With a mix of joy and anger ready to spill out in one messy confession, Anna hurried over to the door, ready to throw herself at you, hugging you tight and probably swearing at you for disappearing without a word.

But when the door swung open, it wasn’t you standing there.

No, it was him. The one face she swore she’d punch the next time she saw him.

“What the actual hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her words laced with enough venom to make anyone think twice about speaking.

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Next on Tuesday’s Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 7)

Finally, you reached out, your fingers brushing his. “Stay” you said quietly. “We still have a lot to figure out, but... I’d like you to stay. At least until she wakes up.”

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And they’re finally out of the trenches! It took some time, but don’t worry, the journey isn’t over yet. The next chapter is one of my personal favorites (I mean, check out the sneak peek!).

Read Chapter 7 here

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas @lomlbuckybarnes @n-o-p-e-never

[marvelseries19]

THE ONLY MEMORY IS US KISSING IN THE MOONLIGHT

Pairing: Mary Earps x reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: All of your memories are lost after a concussion... All but one.

A/N: First, it was meant to be a one-shot but, it turned out to be a bit too long for my liking so, in the next few days I should be able to post the second part if you want it. Despite studying to be a nurse, I have no idea how a concussion works, so, don't quote me on anything. Also, I used to play football like a hundred years ago, so, again, don't quote me on anything. I hoped to post this on Valentine's Day, but life happened, and I ended up driving my sister to get a few things, which set me back a lot. I hope you like it and I'm open to reading your feedback and your ideas if you want. I did not proofread it so, if you see a misspelled word or something... no you didn't.

Warnings: Mention of injuries mostly.

Word count: 1.4k+

[You do not have permission to repost or translate any of my stories or claim them as yours]

Part one

Manchester United vs. Manchester City 

It was Derby match day, and as such, you were all nervous about it. Everyone was very determined to get another win for the team. But there was no one more determined than your fiance. Mary tended to take it very hard whenever someone got the ball past her, especially on a Derby match, and you more than anyone knew how much it affected her, having witnessed Mary's dedication and passion for the game countless times before. Her commitment to the team was unwavering, and she always gave it her all on the field. The pressure of this match only fueled her determination further, making her even more focused on stopping every shot that came her way. It was also the reason you were so committed to ensuring she could, hopefully, maintain a clean sheet.

Traveling to the stadium proceeded as usual. Before heading outside to do the field inspection, you went to the changing rooms and put away your gear. Following one of your pre-match traditions, you went hand in hand, talking about some ideas and your hopes while also giving each other sweet, supportive words.

After you were done with the inspection, everyone headed toward the changing room to start getting ready to go out for the warm-up. "Baby…" Mary came to sit next to you in your cubby, holding the physio tape out for you to take. Another one of your traditions was for you to tape her fingers before every game. You kissed each of her fingers as you taped it, taking care to get it exactly how she wanted it. "All done, baby." You leaned in to kiss her cheek before she moved to tie your boots. When you first made it a tradition, your teammates made sure to tease you relentlessly about it, but after time passed, they realized how important it was for both of you and decided to just silently admire the dedication and love each of you put into the task.

It felt like you blinked when you suddenly had to get out to the tunnel to make your entrance, but not before sharing a sweet kiss with your soon-to-be wife.

The next hour passed like a blur. Each team left it all out on the field in the first half, both being very physical about their game. By this point, the goalkeepers were the only players who had not been taken down by another player. Leaving the first time 0–0 didn't help either to calm their playing strategies.

Halftime goes as expected. The pressure of the derby weighs heavily on everyone, especially on the defensive line and Mary, since the opposite team managed to break it a few times, creating dangerous opportunities that your girlfriend was successfully able to save.

Going to the second leg of the game, you were even more determined to help Mary get a clean sheet, so when the other team got a corner kick, you were inside the penalty box to make sure that the ball didn't get past the blond's hands.

Your heart was racing while you waited for the city player to take the corner, fighting to maintain the mark on your player. All that was on your mind was keeping that ball away from the danger zone, so when the ball was finally in the air, you, along with the other players, jumped to head the ball.

That is the last thing you get to see, as your head not only collides with the other footballer's head, but since you were near the post, your head ended up hitting it too. Mary got a hold of the ball, but before she could send it far, she noticed your unmoving body. Ella, who was near you, leaned down to make sure you were okay, but if the blood on your forehead wasn't enough to scare her, your lack of response was.

The medics are rushed to the playground, worried that head injuries can become bad really fast. Mary is stuck in place, not able to do anything more than call out for you in hopes that you open your eyes.

"Baby, please just open your eyes." A nudge from Zelem takes her out of her shock, finally making her way toward you.

"We need to take her to the hospital; she's not waking up." One of the physios said as they called in the paramedics on standby at each game.

"I need to go with her," Mary said to her captain. "Go, I'll talk to the coach." With a pat on the goalkeeper's shoulder, she sent her on her way. "Let me know what happens!"

—

Mary is left in the waiting area, concerned about your condition, while you are hurried into the hospital for some scans to determine the extent of the injuries. She understands that injuries are inevitable in such a physically demanding sport, but it breaks her heart to watch the person she loves so much lying on the ground, unable to open her eyes. The blonde was struggling mightily with her tears, trying not to think of the worst-case scenario because she knew it would not help.

The remainder of the squad started to move toward the waiting room an hour later. Even though Mary wasn't crying just yet, her expression made it obvious that she was frightened about your condition, and they were all rather concerned about it.

They didn't have to wait much longer for a status report. The doctor appears through the door of the waiting room. "Y/n Y/l/n's family?"

Mary shot up from her seat. "Yes, I'm her fiance."

"I have some news; there are no signs of intracranial bleeding, which was our main concern, but she does have a pretty serious concussion, so I must warn you. She may present some loss of memory, but it will be temporary, and there is no way of knowing how much time it will take for her to recover it or how much of it she'll lose if she does at all."

"So, she's going to be okay, right?" Mary said, her voice filled with concern.

"Yes, she will need to rest a lot and take it easy for a while, but she's going to be okay." Everyone could feel the tension leave their shoulders. "Would you like to see her?"

"Yes, please." The doctor was quick to direct the blonde to your room. Mary wanted to cry at the sight of you, so small on the hospital bed and with a big bandage on your head.

"Remember that she might not know who you are just yet; just be gentle with her." The keeper could only nod to the doctor. "I'll leave you with her; if you need anything, just press the button on the side of her bed."

Mary walked next to you and held your hand in one of hers; with the other, she very gently caressed your cheek, not wanting to disturb you in any way. She was scared out of her mind. You were about to get married; you were supposed to enjoy this chapter of your life, and now you might not even remember who she was.

The first few hours were the easiest for her. The more time that passed, the more she worried. What was taking so long? The doctor had said that you would be okay; it was just a concussion.

Your teammates had tried in vain to lift her spirits, but at least they'd succeeded in getting the blonde to change out of her still-fitting team kit and take a shower.

The shower, the strong emotions of the day, and the game you had played tired her out. She fell asleep with her head resting next to your body on the bed while holding your hand for dear life.

—

Your eyelids flickered open and then shut again as soon as you noticed the room's brightness; this made the pounding sensation in your head worse. You tried moving your hand to cover your face when you felt a weight on top of it. The movement stirred Mary up, who took a second to understand what was happening.

"Baby, you're awake," Mary whispered with a mixture of relief and concern in her voice. She gently moved her head from your body and sat up, allowing you to adjust to the light. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry.

"Who are you?"

To be continued…

[alexa-fika]

The Little Stowaway Wanderer Chapter 1 (Whitebeard pirates x child!reader)

A/N This series is a reformatted series of my original child OC series, which I also posted; as this had to be reformatted to fit the reader outline a lot of things had to be removed and changed to better fit the mold, making it much shorter than the original one, but I wanted to post it since you guys seemed to really want that format and I want to make sure everyone feels included <3

Dividers by @/saradika

The young child has somehow found themselves aboard a ship, looking around the storage place, with only boxes to see and only the waves of the ocean hitting the ship to be heard. The tranquility of the place gave them an inch of reassurance, however.

That thought and reassurance were swiftly shut down as chaos arrived in the form of two brawling men knocking into the stack of boxes right behind them, a squeal escaping them at their sudden entrance and collision, jumping away just as the boxes crashed down.

The two men instantly stop their antics as the childish scream echoes in the ship’s storage room.

“What was that?” questions Thatch

“It sounded like a kid?” Ace said, looking around and spotting a small child rapidly getting up from the ground; he stared at them for a few seconds before grinning.

“Oyaji is gonna be ecstatic; we’ve got ourselves a small stowaway!”

The child is quick to run away from the two Commanders, too spooked by the clash to stop at the call of the two pirates.

You see a large hand wrap around the bottom of the storage box you were hiding in and being slowly lifted.

Thatch lifts the box above his head so the kid is at face level.

When they make eye contact with Thatch, they see a bright, friendly, goofy smile.

“Heeey! Whatcha doing down there?” He says with glee, a big grin across his face, the corner of his eyes crinkling, and he raises his eyebrows, seeming to be having a good time

The child screeches, startling Thatch and causing him to lose hold of the box, dropping It to the ground; a whine escapes the child as she falls along with the box.

They back away until their back hits a wall, completely trapped. Nowhere left to go, they wait in fear, mind racing.

“Hey, Hey, we don’t mean no harm! We just had a bad beginning; we didn’t mean to crash into you like that. I’m sorry we must have frightened you, right?”

He takes one long, slow step to stand over them. He is much taller than most people and looks down at her as he squats down to their level.

They look up at him, taking in his words and nodding slowly.

Ace approaches them, squatting next to Thatch to stare at them.

“We really don’t mean any, nor did we mean to hurt you; we didn’t know you were there. Otherwise, we would have been more careful.”

They relaxed slightly at their words, but the progress of both men was quickly erased. A rough wave hit the ship, shifting the boxes that had tumbled in their previous squaffle the clash and crashing of the boxes, startling the child once again. Reader squeaks, making a run for it, hiding deeper in the storage area.

Thatch and Ace turn to look at the small child.

Thatch frowns as he sees the girl run off.

He leans forward and glances at Ace.

“You ready?”

Ace takes one last look at the child before looking at Thatch, making a chasing motion with his hands as he takes off after them.

Ace’s footsteps shake the storage area as he takes off after them. Thatch follows up behind, still with a big grin on his face.

There we go! Hope you guys enjoy this little adventure; if you like it, be sure to visit my original version with my oc!

[c0la-queen]

Set the World on Fire | Chapter 1

Summary: Reader unknowingly sets off a series of events that will change her - and the world - forever.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: Violence, minor Reader injury

Note: Finally got Chapter 1 done, I'm so sorry this took so long! I'm sorry if this feels rambling-ish to some of you, but I really like how it turned out. Establishes a lot of physical and technical world-building for the base. Also I promise the next chapter will have more Red Leader!! I hope you enjoy, mwah mwah!!

--

Two years later…

You sighed softly as you walked through the halls, accompanied only by your footsteps. Your boots gave an unyielding click, click, click against the concrete floors. The frigid air seeped in through the walls, making you yearn for your warm bed.

A week at the main Red Army base was not enough to get used to how different it was. Especially compared to the smaller base you had been in - the same base that had found you after the attack. There, everyone was close. It took maybe 5 minutes to walk from one side of the base to the other. You were a little family that all stuck together. The mess hall maybe had three to five full tables every meal shift. Soldiers could call out to someone on the other side of the room to banter, and everyone present would laugh. Promotions were few between and celebrated by everyone with drinks and a special dinner. You all supported each other. The size and bond reminded you of a graduating class of seniors.

But if that base was a graduating class, the main base was an entire high school. There were soldiers who had been living in the base that couldn't tell you the names of more than 10-20 of their peers. You were sure that even if you ran for 5 minutes, you would only make it halfway across the base. There was an air of competition between everyone - not the good kind, but a sort of hostile tension between everyone to climb the ranks as fast as possible. During meal shifts, you would be lucky to find a seat in the mess hall unless someone specifically saved you one. You'd have to nearly yell just to hear the person across from you over the chatter in the room. You felt isolated and outnumbered.

It felt like ironically interesting commentary on human behavior and how its affected by population size.

You felt a yawn fight its way from your lips, the corners of your eyes stinging from drowsiness. You were on a late night patrol shift, which almost all soldiers dreaded. All privates had to log a specific amount of night patrol hours every month, given in a specific schedule. Night patrols consisted of 4 groups every shift, each one located at one of the main entrances to the base. The first shift started at 8 pm sharp, right when the last dinner ends. Shifts change twice every night - once at 1 pm and once at 6 am. It could get boring after a short while, simply walking up and down the well-worn length of the base perimeter, waiting for something interesting to happen. The winter months were the worst - the base was only mildly warm even during the height of the summer, but winter was by far harsher than most of the soldiers were used to. Several layers of clothes were needed just to get through the 5 hour shifts. Various ways of coping were used around the base by all privates; hand warmers, thermoses full of hot drinks, balaclavas, extra layering, etc. If it exists, the Red Army privates have tried it.

Not having to do night patrols was a huge motivator for privates to get a promotion.

You were lucky enough to have been given the first shift that night - it was 1:30 am, and the second shift had just swapped out with you. After your supervisor gave you the approval, you were released. Exhaustion dragging deep in your bones, you were ready to simply peel your outer clothes off and pass out in your bed in your tank top and panties. Despite the shared dislike of having to do patrols, you couldn't help but admire how organized the main base was. Red Leader's constant presence meant that every single thing was designed to be as smooth as possible. He was constantly criticized by his enemies for being a cruel, cold-hearted monster, but that never quite fit in your mind. The main base was the biggest target for attacks, raids, and other things, but it was by far the safest Red Army base across Europe.

How could a man be a monster when he personally ensured that his soldiers were safe and cared for in the place that they called home?

A noise drew you out of your thoughts. It was faint, but it was hard to miss in the silence of the halls. Voices. Whispers bleeding out into the empty halls from a small distance ahead of you. The halls were in "Night Mode" - an automatic setting that kicked in at 9 pm, shutting off the main overhead lights and switching to soft strip lights along the edges of the floors and ceiling. It was meant to be enough light to easily navigate through the hallways while not being so bright that it disturbs soldiers' sleep. One of Red Leader's many personal mechanics installed around the base to improve everyone's daily life. That peaceful light was interrupted by the harsh light of a nearby room that poured into the halls from an open door.

You stopped a short distance from the door when you noticed the shadows of two people cast along the floors. Part of you wanted to dismiss it as two soldiers simply out of their quarters past curfew, doing a piss-poor job of not getting caught. But something told you not to jump to conclusions. A swirling feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach at the sight of the shadows. Prey instincts pressed against the forefront of your brain, telling you stay quiet. stay out of sight. do not be seen. Deciding to heed these instincts, you slowed your breathing, listening to the whispered words coming from the room.

It was hard to hear exactly what was being said, but you managed to catch a few phrases. 'Red Leader's quarters,' 'find it,' and 'take the shot.' Piecing together what was going on wasn't difficult to do. Any other words were lost to you, the rush of blood ringing in your ears completely drowning them out. Thoughts and scenarios raced through your mind, but one phrase echoed the loudest.

Find the alarm.

The entire base was fixed with an alarm system. Activators were littered through the halls, making them easy to find. Slowly, carefully, you began to take steps backwards, intending to make your way to an alarm you spotted a few paces back without risking being seen by the two plotters. Fate had other ideas. Two men stepped out of the room. They were dressed in black clothing, likely chosen for stealth. The strip lights made it difficult to see their faces clearly, but one thing was certain.

They were looking directly at you.

Your heartbeat felt like a ticking second hand of a clock as you stood still, feet glued to the floor. You stared. They stared. Then, everything came rushing back. One of the intruders took a step toward you, and you bolted. You heard your boots thump against the concrete as you sprinted in the direction you came from, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The alarm activator quickly came into view. To avoid unauthorized use, it could only be turned on with the use of the standard Red Army ID cards that were required to be kept on your person at all times. You yanked yours off the clip, not caring if the thin bit of plastic bit broke in the process, and slammed it against the scanner. You didn't even bother to waste time checking how close your pursuers were to you. As soon as the screen lit up, you slammed your thumb against the button that red 'INTRUDERS' in big, bold letters. Seconds after you pressed it, a weight slammed into your side, slamming you to the cold concrete ground. One of the intruders sat on top of you, wrapping his hands around your throat.

But it was too late. Red lights bathed the halls, the low blare of the alarm echoing through the entire building. The other intruder appeared in your line of vision, grabbing the first by the shoulder and dragging him off of you. You gasp as air filled your lungs again.

"Leave her, we have to get out of here."

"But-"

"We are not sticking around to get caught. Do you have any idea what Red Leader does to prisoners?"

You rolled onto your side, coughs wracking your body. Your throat stung from the phantom feeling of the man's hands. Your ears rang, and you couldn't hear anything except muffled footsteps for a while. Suddenly, hands were on your shoulders. Panic coursed through you, thinking they had come back to finish the job. Your hand lashed out. Something solid collided with your fist, and there was a grunt. The hands disappeared for a second, but quickly came back. You were rolled onto your back. In that moment, your hearing cleared.

"Private!"

Standing over you was a fellow Red Army soldier. You recognized him as one of the lieutenants that had worked with your platoon before. He helped you sit up, looking over you for any obvious injuries. Another soldier was standing off to the side, clutching his face. The lieutenant snapped in front of your face, drawing you back to the present.

"Can you hear me, Private? Do you need medical attention?"

You completely disregarded his questions, panicked energy filling your entire body.

"Two intruders, male, wearing all black. They're targeting Red Leader."

The lieutenant paused, taking in that information. He looked over his shoulder, nodding to the other soldier. He returned the nod, then disappeared down the hallway. The lieutenant focused back on you. You could hear soldiers flooding the hallway all around you, pulled from their sleep by the alarm and guns drawn.

"Private, do you need medical? How copy?"

You swallowed thickly. The sting of your throat made you wince. Still, you shook your head 'no.' The lieutenants eyes flickered across you, taking in your state. They rested just below your head.

"I'm taking you to medical."

You barely had time to argue when you were scooped into his arms. He stood, holding you with little to no effort. He looked around at the soldiers gathered in the halls, barking out orders over the blaring of the alarm.

"We got two intruders wearing all black, location unknown. Bring them in alive. Red Leader is the confirmed target, protect at all costs. Lovelace, get it over the radio."

Sergeant Major Lovelace nodded and repeated the message over her radio, making sure all soldiers knew the situation. The lieutenant holding you made his way through the halls, weaving through the other soldiers as he made his way to the medical wing.

"What's your name, Private?"

You gave him your last name, trying to blink away the spinning of the world. The lieutenant clicked his tongue softly.

"Full name, c'mon."

Oh. He wanted to keep you talking, to prevent any potential passing out. You indulged, giving him your full name. He gave you a crooked grin, the small gap between his front teeth giving it an almost boyish charm. He had shaggy brown hair that tufted out at his neck in a small mullet, cornflower blue eyes, and sun kissed skin. A small scar stretched across his chin - it didn't look like the ugly scar of some traumatic injury; more like the faint scar of past teenage mischief.

"The name's Lieutenant Kai Veern. You did great tonight, (Name)."

Lieutenant Veern proceeded to ramble to you as he navigated the chaotic halls. A Southern accent was laced into his words, relaxing your panicked brain. Soon, he pushed a door open with his hip, addressing the nurses that were standing in a group.

"Got a soldier with fresh bruising around her neck. Disoriented. Unsure of any other injuries."

You zoned out as you were set on a check-up table. The nurses bustled around you, checking you for injuries.

You wondered where Red Leader was.

--

"Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on in my base?"

The intruder alarms had long been turned off. Tord paced his office, glancing at the clock on the wall. 5 am. God, he needed a smoke.

"Two intruders were apprehended in the east wing. They're being held in interrogation as we speak."

"Separately?"

Patryk nodded.

"Who pulled the alarm?"

"Private (Last Name). The patrol supervisor said she had just been released from first shift. We're headed down to medical to get her report right after this."

Tord's eyes snapped up to his Major General and Lieutenant General.

"Medical? What do you mean, medical?"

Paul and Patryk shared a nervous glance. Paul shifted in his spot.

"Lieutenants Veern and Winston found her on the ground in the hall. Veern escorted her to medical for bruising around her neck. It's likely that one of the intruders tried to strangle her."

Hot anger flashed through Tord. He slammed his hand against his desk, the heavy metal making a loud impact against the wooden surface. Paul and Patryk didn't even flinch.

"You're telling me that not only did someone have the audacity to sneak into my base like vermin, but one of them put his hands on my soldier? Does she have any other injuries? Did any other soldier report to medical?"

Paul shook his head to both questions. A growl rumbled from Tord's chest.

"They still harmed one of mine. That is a transgression I will not take lightly. Find out which one did it. Save him for me. If neither of them cough it up, give them both a lesson. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

The two stood and saluted.

"Wait. I want you to report straight to interrogation."

Patryk frowned.

"But what about Private-"

"I am going to see her myself."

The two soldiers blinked in surprise, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. Tord huffed, waving his hand dismissively as he pulled a cigar from the box on his desk.

"She could have been risking her life to pull that alarm. I want to talk to her directly."

Failing to bite back their smiles, Tord's trusted soldiers nodded and headed out the door. The guards posted outside his office shut the doors behind them.

Tord sighed, lighting his cigar and taking a deep inhale. The smoke puffed around him as he exhaled, shoulders slowly relaxing. He tapped his other fingers against his desk as he stewed in his thoughts.

Private (Name)…

He was very curious.

[blues824]

okayy, this one is a bit long so bear with me please!

imagine, in a au world where the league of villains get a redemption arc and so they get to go to u.a.; them with a gentle and kindhearted reader who is willing to befriend them while everyone else is still a little wary. im thinking, kind and empathic like tanjiro and is able to make them feel as if they really have a chance at changing.

you dont have to write all of the LOV, it can just be shigaraki, dabi, and toga! i dont want you to have to write too much.

Toga’s scenario sounds exactly like the beginning of Wednesday

Tomura Shigaraki

People were definitely hesitant to give this man a second chance. He was doing his best but no one believed in him. He got a job at U.A. where he could teach the students about how destructive quirks can be and how to limit the amount of damage done to any party. This was arranged so that he could be on close watch.

There was one teacher he had taken a particular interest in. They were an up and coming Hero, as well as Aizawa’s assistant. They always greeted him with a smile and a wave, and they were also the one who showed him around U.A. 

You were his first friend, proof that he turned over a new leaf and left behind a life of crime. You always made him a bento for lunch (he loves your cooking) and always tried to have at least 3 conversations with him.

After a while, he asked why you were so kind to someone like him. He wasn’t wary or anything, he was just curious. You smiled and said ‘to me, being a hero means giving people a second chance. Society turned its back on you first, so you had every right to be angry. I’m just sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.’ This made him blush a little.

Eventually, after being work friends (and just friends in general), Tomura got the courage to ask you out. He was about to go in and hug you when you said yes, but he looked at his hands in disdain. You pulled his gloves off the table and handed them to him, and once he put them on you wrapped your arms around him. You pulled back a little to place a kiss on his cheek and he stiffened but then relaxed and wrapped his arms around you as well.

Dabi 

People were wary of him not just because of his actions but also because of his appearance. The scars he got from his quirk obviously showed and he had staples and stitches. When he got a job at UA, he had to teach the older students about how destructive quirks can be and how not to inflict too much damage to yourself while still pushing yourself past your comfort zone.

You were assigned as his teacher’s assistant, and that caused you both to become close over time. You were the only one who actively tried to befriend him. Before class, as you both set everything up for the day ahead, you would always shake his hand and give him a warm smile before making your way to your corner desk.

He was grateful for you. You made his life that much easier, and he appreciated it a lot. You would spend your lunch breaks at his desk while discussing everything that came to mind. He’s even told you about a few of his villainous journeys.

One day, during one of these lunch breaks, he asked why you were so kind and genuine. You smiled and told him, ‘Well, it would be kind of weird to teach the next generation of heroes without reflecting the virtues a hero should have. Plus I figured that there was more to you than what most see.’

Eventually, after class on a Friday afternoon, he called out your name before you left. You turned and gave him your full attention, and that’s when he asked you out for a date at 7. You suddenly felt shy before nodding. Dabi walked you out before he pressed a kiss to your forehead and headed back to his apartment.

Himiko Toga

Since she was young enough, she was transferred mid-semester as a second-year student. After all, she had gotten nearly perfect scores on the written Entrance Exam and showed great Battle IQ in the practical Entrance Exam.

You were one of her classmates, and your teacher gave you the task of showing her around and bringing her to her dorm. Instead of looking at her in disgust as most of the other students did, you had a friendly grin and shook her hand.

You both instantly became friends. You would have study sessions that ended in laughter because you both were doing impressions of your classmates. You became assignment partners, lunch buddies, basically each other’s ride-or-die.

One day, during one of your study sessions, the conversation got serious for a second. She asked you why you were so nice to her even after learning about her actions and you held her hand in your own. You told her, ‘A hero is supposed to give everyone a second chance. That also means former villains.’

Eventually, once you were packing up after class and getting ready to head to your dorm, Toga pulled you aside and asked you out. Once you said yes, she almost tackled you to the ground in a hug while peppering kisses all over your face.

[redbullcateringfiction]

New multi chapter Toto Wolff fanfic -

Cantata

Arabella is the executive assistant for Mercedes Team Principal Toto Wolff. 10 years into her career, it looks like the tide is changing, and she's beginning to question her relationship with him. Is it something more, or nothing but an idea lingering in her head?

F/M, Fluff, Boss/Employee Relationship, Romance, Pining, Love, Slow Burn

Read the 1st chapter below the cut or on AO3

Hello Reader,

I wanted to let you know that I am in no way speculating on Susie Wolff's sexuality. I simply wanted to write a happy fic with no affairs and no messy divorces. Susie is lovely. Susie is baby girl. She deserves nothing but the best. I simply want this fic to focus on Toto and an original female character's relationship with no underlying narratives.

Thanks,

A.E.

chapter 1 - solo

My father has a habit. He will always play classical music. In the car, in the living room, in the kitchen, as he read us bedtime stories. Always. There was never a moment in my childhood home that wasn’t covered with classical music. He also has a deep appreciation for Formula racing. The television was always on something related to F1, and if we dared to change the channel, we best change it back before he got back home. Eventually, we all gave up on changing it at all.

I noticed on one of those particular Sunday mornings the way the cars and the classical music moved together in one beautiful melody. I watched as the cars turned the corners delicately, coming nearly to a halt, before speeding ahead. I loved watching as the grid took off. How they all came around the corners slowly. My father’s favorite driver when I was a child was Ayrton Senna. His passing hit my home like a tornado. The classical music never stopped, until that day.

There were no races in my home for an entire year. My father refused to watch a race without Senna. March 10th, 1996, the television turned on again. So did the music. I watched as my father sat down, and suddenly I became just as entranced as him. The first race of that season, and the grid was just as delicate as a dance as I had remembered.

~

"You misspelled my name," Toto mumbled, leaning over me. He rolled his eyes, and laughed about it as he rapidly pressed backspace. For the first time in our long relationship, I had found myself mindlessly savoring the scent of his expensive cologne. It lingered in the way a cologne does when it's noticed and not announced.

"Torger, not Torfer," he smiled. "You don't know this by now?" It froze me in my tracks. My typical sassy response failed to come to my mouth like it usually would. I was so caught up in actually, for the first time, properly noticing Toto Wolff.

"I'm joking, lighten up," he said, finally backing away. He must've noticed the way I had locked my jaw and could barely focus.

"Oh, sorry. I just got a little lost in thought," I responded.

"I can tell. You did misspell my name after all," he said, sitting on the edge of my desk. I swatted my hand in his direction. I hate bent papers and he was dangerously close to my pile of documents. He lifted himself up just long enough for me to grab the pile, and he sat firmly on the edge again.

"How are things going?" he asked.

"It's been hard to schedule the team strategy meetings, and between interviews and engagements, the schedule is relatively heavy for the next few weeks."

"Ah well that's interesting but I meant how are things going with you?"

Despite having worked with Toto for several years, I was never prepared for that question. It wasn't exceptionally rare or anything, it just seemed to be that he always asked during a busy period. A kind thing to do, but busy periods such as this were always excessively intense for Toto and I. The kind of busy where I yelled at him for being 5 minutes over in his meeting because it meant we were twenty minutes late for the next. So, I always assume it's a work question.

"Things are good...Yes, good."

"Are you excited?"

"For?"

"The Grand Prix? Is your family flying in? Your sister had a baby, right?"

My family. Right. I shouldn't have forgotten. This is one of three Grand Prix’s my family will attend. Bahrain, Abu Dhabi, and the Dutch Grand Prix. It's only really that my family lives in the Netherlands. Am I Dutch, though? I prefer the term "vaguely European" to describe myself. My family comprises of Moroccan immigrants. I don't have the height, nor the blonde hair and blue eyes. I don't, however, have the Moroccan culture present in my life. My family are immigrants. As part of our citizenship, our culture slowly faded away 2 generations ago. It's always a small bit of my life that I've resented. Feeling so lost in the classroom, in the professional world, in...well every aspect of my life. Maybe it isn't so small. Either way, deliberately destroying the traces of your culture also deliberately destroys your family dynamic. There is no glue to hold us together. Just blood and irritation. I can dislike my father's rigid way of thinking, but I can't reason it away with "it's where we're from." It isn't. You've ridded yourself and us of it. Instead, all I can do is take a job where I am constantly galloping across the world with a swank apartment in London. Then, you can stop by at one of 3 races. The first, the middle, and the last. They happen to speak your language that you forced me not to speak inat the first and the last, and in the middle one I get to feel uncomfortable as everyone is excited for my “home” race. Yay.

“She did have a baby. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her though,” I brushed the conversation away. He gave me a notably flat face in response.

“You have to make time for family. Even I do,” He crossed his arms.

Frankly, I don’t want to. This also isn’t a fight I want to take with Toto “Twice Divorced” Wolff. If he can be best friends with both of his ex-wives, who am I to complain about a little bit of immigrant family drama? More so, his relationship with Susie couldn’t be more sickeningly sweet. When she came out as a lesbian, he was the first one to support her in every way. There was not a single moment of hardship between them. And I, therefore, cannot for a moment consider complaining about my mommy and daddy issues.

“You’re right,” I mumbled, going back to typing my email.

“You don’t genuinely think I’m right. You never do,” He chuckled.

“So, maybe I was lying,” I winked.

“Well, I’ll stop bothering you, Arabella,” he sighed and stood up.

“Not so fast, Torger, ” I nearly hissed. “We have to leave in 5 minutes for a meeting. If you’re tempted to forget with who, I’ll kindly remind you that we have a sponsor function this evening.”

“I hadn’t forgotten. I was simply off to pack my bag.”

“I doubt that,” I chuckled. I know very well the role I serve here. I’m the executive assistant. That means I don’t just run the schedule, but rather in a way, I run him. At some point during the day, I leave the office or paddock and head to a plane, hotel, or home. But for the other 80% of the day, I am the best micromanager this side of the Atlantic. It’s something I enjoy, and that’s the most important part of Formula 1. For the drivers, it’s an enjoyment and a true passion to race. For the team principal, there is an enjoyment and true passion to lead a magnificent crew into victory. For me, I know these things require an obsession. I have to be 5 feet ahead of everyone else, and 6 feet behind Toto.

I quickly sent off my email making sure not a single typo said “Torfer,” and packed my own bag. I opened the padfolio and placed the important materials into it and prepared to debrief. I picked up my cell phone and texted the driver to ensure he was waiting outside. I just know I’m the most annoying person in Brackley.

Toto finally wandered out of his office with just enough time for us to get down the elevator and out the door. “You just love running down the clock,” I mumbled.

“We may be a racing company but not everything has to be a race,” He answered as we walked towards the elevator.

“Do you look at your schedule? At all?”

“If I did, what would I pay you for?” He chuckled. I knew that was a bold-faced lie. If he wants to rearrange his entire week, he might require a bit of help, but most of the appointments seamlessly find a new spot. We speed walked to the car and hopped in the back, and I quickly opened the padfolio.

“UBS London, correct?” The driver, Reggie, asked.

“Yes,” I answered. I passed the padfolio to Toto, and he took his glasses off his shirt collar and looked at the papers.

“First, you’ll be meeting with the investment team. It should be a 45-minute meeting where you’ll run through the projections for the upcoming season. The data is on the next sheet, and after that you’ll find the design for the investors showcase tonight. It’ll consist of UBS staff. The car is on its way to London, and will be in the center of the ballroom, and next to it will be a race suit. Just spend a nice amount of time pointing out the UBS logo on the clothing and you should be fine,” I explained.

“And the scheduling?”

“The meeting is at 1pm. You’ll head to the hotel, and you’ll find the clothing for tonight in the wardrobe. There are some options there. At 6pm, you’ll head to the hotel ballroom, give a quick speech with a UBS representative, and head back up for bed at 11pm. Or later if you prefer, it’s up to how much sleep you’d like. At 8am, we fly to Sakhir and get ready for testing the day after.”

“I don’t know why they’re so desperate to be this close to the first race,” Toto sighed. “Will you be there the whole evening?”

“I’ll head out at about 7, after the speeches,” I nodded. “I’ll get to the airport about an hour before you.”

“Lewis and Valtteri, what about them?” Toto asked.

“What about them? I don’t dare to touch their schedules. Their assistants have razor sharp teeth and bite.”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“They’ll be in that night prior to testing. Let them get a good rest in. If you want to bother them then, feel free.”

“So, is your family flying in?” Toto asked.

“Anyway, the hotel in Sakhir is the same as last. Everyone loved the bathrooms. Quite fancy even for F1 standards.”

“The hotel I presume your family will be staying in?” Toto smirked. I turned to see he was holding his reading glasses, while staring at me expectantly. I clearly was not getting out of this.

“I booked them two rooms, yes. And they’ll fly in right before the race,” I nodded.

“Are you meeting with them? That should be nice.”

“I had no plans to. Far too busy. They’re really on here for the race, not for me.”

“Paddock passes then. You can give them a nice tour.”

“I don’t have time to do a tour.”

“I’ll make sure you have time to do a tour!” Toto answered.

I stared rather blankly at him. Pick your battles, pick them wisely. Is this a fight I want to win? Ever since I’ve started here, Toto has encouraged me to give the free tickets to my family. I, then, get to spend a shocking amount of time and money ordering them their flights and arranging them like a herder. Then, I get to smile and wave from just outside the paddock and strategically avoid them with nothing more than a quick apology. Sorry! I got caught up. I’m sure you can imagine how busy it is. I’ll see you guys during the holiday break! And then, once a year, I sit surrounded in chaos at my parents’ home, practically watching dishes fly to the dinner table. I then completely dissociate from my body, someone has very nice conversations with them pretending to be me, and I then reenter my body. I fly back to London and have a good 2 weeks of Tinder dates. Ah. Right. Tinder.

I can absolutely use that to move on from this conversation. I open my phone and begin the swiping adventure without a second thought. I could sense Toto staring at me waiting for a response.

“Sure. I’m sure they’d love paddock passes. My dad is a big Hamilton fan,” I nodded.

“Great! I’ll get it done,” Toto answered before getting on his own phone, presumably to provide my father with his dream of meeting Lewis Hamilton. Well, I expect this season will be very similar to the last 9.

[noturvlentine]

a stranger under the skin (pt3)

༺ ♰ ༻

Leon Kennedy x reader series

Summary [series]- after Chris Redfield has requested for your transfer from the BSAA, you’re tasked with uncovering a chain of bio-terrorist attacks alongside Leon Kennedy. Destruction, duty and your untold past brings you spiralling into an unlikely bond with your partner, as efforts are made and promises are broken.

I APOLOGISE FOR TEMPORARILY GOING AWOL!!!! I’m back now and this series is gonna keep up bc I really want to write for it and have been!!!

OKAY, I know Chris didn’t technicality command SOUs before 2009, but for the sake of the story let’s pretend that it fits in somewhere with the plot- or history, because it makes sense somehow that there’s this loss dynamic or prior stoicism from her job. And because why not- but yea that’s it.

alcohol, pills, violence in the near future and basically all that stuff

1.3k words

previous part (2)

༺ ♰ ༻

Target Location

Eastern Europe

2009

11:00AM

You had arrived to your escort well into the dawn of the next day, probably because of the subsequent European timezone but the sudden change in light wasn’t of your concern as time was measured strictly in numbers, as you’d say. It had been a good while since you got the chance to admire the sunrise, it was quite late for the tail end of winter and last you could remember, it definitely looked better than the clouds of sand swallowing your view in South America. This sudden breeze of peacefulness also had you wondering when the last time you flew out in a civilian aircraft was. Maybe that’s why you never slept on transport because you were always shoved into the stomach of an Osprey or a CH-47 and what not. Leon had remained quiet, there was something brewing between the two of you that lacked of mutual understanding. Maybe it was better this way, the only important thing is that you needed to work well enough together to get the job done. That’s all. No hard feelings.

Somewhere in Eastern Europe

STRATCOM Safe house

2009

11:30AM

The car ride to the safe house was surprisingly uneventful. You’d half expected the car to explode and flip over some ten times and this operation would backfire with you and Leon heading home early, in comfortable black bags to no one’s condolences. At least that was how it was for you. God knows about Leon, the guy can’t seem to catch a break yet refuses to die. The city was well kept, not modern enough to suite the Americans yet not of great heritage at the heart. Another disposable sight for terrorism, seeing as no one expected to get a great amount of attention in a small Eastern European city, yet they only seemed to have sent the two of you. Your escort, a quiet man of no specific organisation at glance, cleared your departure through the back alley to a modest, yet somewhat unoccupied apartment building. The back entrance was between two large bins and a couple water tanks servicing the unit. The door was heavy and swung shut behind you, there wasn’t an elevator, only the quiet hum in the upward staircase lit by a square, graticule skylight around six floors up. You stepped into the beam of light and stared straight at it, the sky turning grey and boring by the time the morning fully rendered. Leon stopped beside you, following his gaze upwards to inquire yours. You could hear his hand fishing out the set of keys to your unit from his jacket pocket.

‘So they gave you the keys huh?’ You joked, breaking the silence, somewhat offended that no one had filled you in about breaking in and entering. You simply received a short laugh back as Leon headed up the stairs, his boots tapping softly and rhythmically up the stairs. Your unit was on the fourth floor, a one bedroom flat facing the street, which was mostly empty despite it already being well into the day. All the equipment was already packed into heavy duty cases stacked up in the corner, a replacement Christmas tree with everything you could possibly need- tactically that is, along with supplies that was meant to last you both for more than enough time. None of you bother to turn the lights on as your bags are dumped onto one of the couches facing the window, a cloud of dust flakes up from the couch but Leon doesn’t think twice before sitting down. You turn your back to him as you make your way closer to the windows, standing just around the frame enough to have a full view of the area, scanning your surroundings. Funny how the first thing that stuck was planning out your escape from a possible war zone, or apartment block or whatever. By now you’ve got it all mapped out-

The alley by the corner store, a fire hatch to the left of your window, another route behind the sixth parking meter and-

‘I could get used to this you know,’ you tried to ignore Leon’s statement of amusement. But instead, to your own surprise and credibility you reply with a sarcastic ‘yeah?’ and receive a hum from Leon.

‘Yeah, they got nice damn equipment and a comfortable place to hide out, best they’ve done if you ask me. Mustn’t be an easy job then.’ He’s casual, and it doesn’t sit well with you.

‘This is such a fucking domestic job.’ You snark, flicking your head around and turning back away from the window.

‘And does that make you uncomfortable?’ Leon questions, or rather, rhetorical, because he knows you’d rather be suffering out in the field under the scorching sun carrying 10kg of solid gear trying your best not to catch a bullet or two. You don’t reply, but simply glare straight at him heavily, arms crossed, to which Leon only returns a friendly smile ambiguous of sarcasm but ultimately understanding. You blink once, then turn on your heels over to the stack of heavy duty cases to fetch the debrief. The pile of documents slaps the glass coffee table hard as Leon glances at the memo before turning his head up to look at you, standing on the other side.

‘Do we wanna start or wait until someone blows our door down?’

It was probably around 21:00PM when the two of you had finished assessments and any additional planning after going through the memo a few more times. Dinner was a couple of protein bars and some green bottled substance probably beneficial to your health, who knows. All your belongings and sheets of paper was piled up on the coffee table, at some point you had gotten up to close the curtains and switch on the lights, but that felt like an eternity ago. You were staring at the ceiling with your head over the back of the couch when you head Leon rattle something metal in his hands. Your head was heavy and you’d blinked the rest out of your eyes and sat up to face Leon, who was now taking a swig at something from a small flask. Leon let the lid hang out to the side which for some reason your eyes settled on to, then back up to meet his gaze. You couldn’t blame him honestly, you’d taken something to numb the nerves some short hours ago to which the small capsule containing those pills were now peaking out under a few sheets of paper.

‘I’m not an alcoholic, don’t worry.’ He said, satirically over a warm grin.

‘You know you shouldn’t be drinking on the job’ you implied, signalling at the vessel tucked between his hands.

‘Oh yea? Well you aren’t any better there’ he nodded towards the bottle of pills on the coffee table.

‘Well don’t worry, I’m not a drug addict.’you teased. Leon laid back into the couch, his hand with the flask resting between his legs, staring at you comically, eyebrows raised and all.

He wasnt convinced

‘We all have our excuses Leon.’ You smiled, half heartedly.

He took another sip of his liquor, this time, resting it on the table before leaning back again.

‘And for the record, im not insane either.’ You added jokingly.

‘Well I sure disagree with that.’ He laughed. ‘No one willingly goes through the same hoard of papers six times in the same afternoon.’

AN: I’m back, and I didn’t know what to do with that chapter but hope it kicks things off again. I’m on vacation early atm so updates will be coming!!!!

[aidanchaser]

hello chase!!!! i wanted to insert my own question so ❓what is your thought process when you edit your own works and what are some rules of thumb you use when editing?

oh noooooo you had to ask a hard one ahah. Thank you very much; I'll do my best to do it justice

I have common mistakes I look for, like I'm constantly using seemed/thought/appeared when simply stating what is happening is far more effective. But, ultimately, when editing my own work, my primary question is, "Does this [sentence/word/paragraph/scene] communicate what want my reader to feel/understand a)effectively b)efficiently c)creatively?"

Everything I change as I read and reread and reread my writing revolves around that question.

A really great example is the editing I just did on the 1920s AU! I'll do a side-by-side comparison for anyone who's interested under the cut

Here's the link to the first draft of the 1920s AU smoke-break scene. It was edited for grammar, but the first pass is never the best pass, and I revised the scene more intimately the next day.

The beginning of any scene needs to set a specific tone and communicate key details of the setting to the reader. This paragraph wasn't very effective at that.

It wasn’t snowing, though it certainly felt cold enough to. Marinette pulled her collar closed against her throat and cheeks, keeping herself as snug as she could. She had some privacy in the dark alley that guarded the back entrance of the Lucky Lady, but the click of her lighter must have attracted attention from the street. She saw the white suit jacket and vest that was becoming painfully familiar approach.

So I revised it with just a few concrete details just to add dimension to the space, so that I could more effectively introduce the setting.

It wasn’t snowing, though it certainly felt cold enough to start. Marinette pulled her collar closed against her throat and cheeks, keeping herself as snug as she could. She had a fairly narrow view of the street, illuminated by a nearby lamp, but the corner of the theater that backed the Lucky Lady cut through that light, giving her a space of quiet darkness to enjoy a reprieve during the chaos of an evening shift. There were not many out on a cold night like this, but a painfully familiar voice cut through the crisp air.

I also shifted from the visual of the white coat to the sound of Adrien's voice because I wanted to draw out the scene a little bit more! This dialogue from the original, while snappy and efficient, didn't give the feeling I wanted it to.

“What happened to your coat?” she asked. “I gave it to a gentleman who looked like he needed it more than I did.” The tip of his cigarette glowed orange, and he returned her lighter to her. His eyes looked warm in this dim light. She tucked her lighter back into her coat. “And what happened to your date?” “I called her a cab. I was hoping to chat with you before returning home.”

The beginning of this fic spends a lot of time dwelling on how suspicious Marinette is of Adrien's motives. This scene offers her a glimpse of his kindness for the first time, forcing her to reexamine her assumptions. The dialogue wasn't very effective or emotionally charged, so the quippy dialogue instead became:

It was indeed Adrien Agreste, chatting with a young man in a threadbare coat that looked like it might have once been a blue officer’s uniform, but had weathered enough snow and shrapnel to be little more than scraps. The right sleeve was pinned up to the shoulder. Adrien shrugged out of his coat and handed it to the young man. “There’s some spare bills in the pocket. Get yourself something hot to eat and a room.” He sounded like the boy who had abandoned her, not the man who had returned. His voice was gentle, uncertain. There was none of the swagger she’d seen in the young man in her shop that morning, nor the cold grin he’d sported when he’d entered the Lucky Lady.

Even though it's less efficient, it is much more effective. It allows me to linger in Marinette's loneliness a little bit longer before Adrien approaches her, and it lets me flesh out the post-war Paris setting with a bit more atmosphere.

I also spent some time revising the angelic metaphor paragraph. It was really important to me to include saint-reminiscent iconography around Adrien during this scene. I want my readers well-aware that even though Marinette is suspicious of Adrien, he's still the Adrien we know and love, and they can trust that I am going to explain his suspicious actions.

“I heard a rumor that if a gentleman is down on his luck, you’re the lady to see.” “I’ve been known to reverse fortunes,” she murmured. “From toppling those on thrones to lifting up those in the gutter. You don’t strike me as a man in a gutter.” He turned his head to blow a lungful of smoke away from her. The street lamp glinted off of his hair, creating a golden halo. “One man’s heaven,” he shrugged, and let the rest of phrase disappear behind a rueful smile. 

The above metaphor works, and I didn't change it a whole lot, but there are a few key shifts in the revision below:

“I heard a rumor that if a gentleman is down on his luck, you’re the lady to see.” And Adrien, like she had just moments ago, took in a long draw on his cigarette and held it in his chest.  “I’ve been known to reverse fortunes,” she murmured. “From toppling those on thrones to lifting up those in the gutter. You don’t strike me as a man in a gutter.” He shrugged and turned his head to blow the smoke away from her. The street lamp glinted off of his hat and his bangs, creating a golden halo. “One man’s heaven.” He let the rest of phrase disappear behind a rueful smile.

The added inhale on the cigarette, harkening back to an earlier moment Marinette had where she holds onto the heat of it to try to forget her heartbreak, implies that Adrien is hurting just as much. It tells the reader he's still pining for Ladybug, too.

Moving the shrug from the end to the beginning stretches out that longing and it gives the dialogue more room to breathe. It's a tiny change from "'heaven,' he shrugged" to "'heaven.' He let the rest" but it does make a difference in the tone. It's not a blow-off response. It's pointed. It emphasizes his hurt more neatly, and even if Marinette can't recognize it, the reader hopefully can, even if unconsciously.

Also I forgot when I wrote the halo description that Adrien would of course be wearing a hat; it's 1920-ish.

So there you have it! A couple of changes made for creativity and efficiency, hopefully making the scene just a little more effective!

[darrens-toyhouse]

Oh, Mr. Policeman!

Estevan Aguliar, Morgan Grantz and the town/city, East Armeira belong to @mrboogerlip

This is just a little fanfic/gift fic on how Estevan and Milo met! Nothing more!

~~~

"Now that that's done, I can head back home!"

Wiping his tears away, the young man got off the ground, dusted off the dirt and gravel of his skirt before turning around and heading back to his shithole apartment. It's been weeks since he last been outside in the summer heat so he was feeling a bit sweaty and dizzy, maybe he should've picked a better time to see his friends, or maybe he shouldn't have gone outside at all?

No. No! He needed to get out this time! Get some air and feel the sweet summer light on his skin, even if the light did hurt his eyes a bit after being cooped up inside for so long.

As the young man adjusted his glasses and walked downtown and back into the quiet city, he sighed as he walked passed a couple of teens smoking cigarettes and drinking what seemed to alcohol straight from several unlabeled bottles. They were all wearing baggy pants and lose shirts with the exception of one, a young girl, who wore a tank top and low-rise jeans, she even wore hoop earrings that matched her white shirt.

He shifted his eyes towards the group to get a better look at them and chuckled to himself.

It made him feel nostalgic...

Sometimes he wished he could just go back to being a teenager, a little gangsta hooligan with no future ahead of him in sight, sitting outside a disheveled, rundown, abandoned, house covered in graffiti and trash, drinking that good ole' blue freeze with his buddies while the most irritating rap blasted in the background.

Glance after glance as he walked, the teens continued to laugh, joke, cuss up a storm and cough up their lungs before washing all that tar with straight warm booze. No one could stop them now, they probably thought.

No one expect the police...

As soon as he heard those sirens blare and the red and blue lights blind his eyes, the man steady hid behind the small claustrophobic alleyway between two neighboring apartment homes, hiding his hands behind his back as if he were a kid again, hiding a stolen can of spray paint after spraying someone's car or worse a baggy of drugs.

Peeking out from behind the corner, the man adjusted his glasses and gasped silently as he watched the teens laughter fade ruther and ruther and be replaced with sighs of worry, annoyance and anger as the police car drover closer and closer before finally, parking right next to them!

One teen hurriedly got up, fist clenched and ready but was immediately pulled back by another as the officer stepped out.

He was wearing the typical bright blue uniform barley hidden behind a dark blue vest which matched his hat and pants, there was also a belt tied straight to his waist in which he carried a gun and taser, and a gold badge strapped to the right side of his chest.

The man pondered about the outfit as it was very VERY unusual for AcersVille police who often wore a dark black shirt and black vest, driving around in their white and black cars, a gun mostly already in out of their belts and a little walkie talkie in their upper vest pockets to be wearing something so...off? Maybe the times have changed?

It wasn't until he looked a little bit more closer at the cop car itself. It was blue, a deep dark blue that on the right side of the car read in big bold letters, EAST ARMEIRA PD.

The man gulped, "East Armeira?"

East Armeira, the large yet bustling city where everyone truly lived happily, and even if some had their own dark past or secrets to hid, it still didn't stop them from enjoying life in their own city unlike the people of AcersVille.

Yet it was still a shocking surprise that someone from a city so bright and full of hope would even come down here. Not to mention, the fact AcersVille often closed itself off constantly from outside cities, such as blocking the only entrance in the springtime.

Some of the teens gave the officer a stern look of pure rage while some showed faces of guilt, others showed shame. They knew that each and everyone of them all had a history with the law at such young ages and couldn't afford to go back to jail, after all those bottles of alcohol were not cheap.

The police officer shifted his eyes down at the multiple cigarette buds on the ground and then towards the bottles of alcohol, and shook his head in disbelief.

He had been told way back at his time at East Armeira Police Academy about on how troubled AcersVille teens were and how the police there were struggling to keep things under control but to see it for himself now, it truly was ridiculous! He didn't understand why the East Armeira police department was so ready to head into AcersVille and help parole it, even if it was for a very small amount of time, but now he knew why they were also so hesitant to deal with it's citizens in the first place.

It was almost like they knew the happy-cheerful smiley face façade was just that...a façade!

"What are you little rascals doing out here in the blistering heat, huh? I see you guys got some cigarettes on you."

He turned his attention back to the booze, "A couple of drinks too? Wow! You kiddos have homework right? Why not instead do that instead of being on the streets? It's more safe!"

He gave the teens a warm smile, assuring them he wasn't going to arrest nor hurt them. They were just some juveniles, AcersVille juveniles, but juveniles for sure. All they needed was someone to swerve them on the right path!

"Homework? You think WE got homework!?!"

One of the teens spat on the police officer's shoe, it was the girl! She held up her fist and started going off!

Even though, she was smaller then her male friends, she seemed to have a very smart mouth, a nasty attitude and heavy anger issues on top of being drunk out of her mind and as she stumbled, her hoop earrings swayed side to side each time, her friends desperately trying to hold her back.

"Why don't you fuck off! We ain't do shit!"

One of the boys put a hand on the girl's shoulder, trying to comfort her by saying her name and when that didn't work, he spoke up in a clear tone.

"Come on, let's just back head to the park."

Yet the girl still flat-out refused to listen!

She began to cuss even louder at the officer about how she didn't do anything even though they were technically drinking, smoking and causing a ruckus. And when the officer asked them were did the booze and cigarettes even come from and if they stole it, that's when the teens all got defensive, leading to a knife being pulled out.

The man hiding from behind the corner knew where this was going and quickly ran over to the police officer and declared that it him, who purchased their stolen drugs before then looking back at the confused teens and then back at the officer, hands slightly up as he faked a guilty look.

"It was me, officer."

His voice softened slightly. He shifted his eyes to the now cowering teens and reassured to them that everything was going to be okay, if they complied, before swiveling back to officer, his face even more guilty then before.

"I-I was the one who bought them the cigarettes and booze."

The officer raised an eyebrow, a look of confusion painted his face as he turned his view back to the teens who nodded hesitatingly.

"I see. Well guess you little rascals are off the hook."

The officer then pulled out a pair of cold sliver cuffs and cleared his throat. He hand cuffed the other adult and sighed.

"As for you, madame, you're coming with me."

The officer escorted the young man, or who he perceived to be a young women, into the back of his car before he turned back to the group of trouble making teens and gave them a disappointed glare. He knew that at the end of the day they were just teenagers but something else told him, they would never change their ways.

As he closed the back passenger door and made his way over to the driver seat, he looked down at the other adult and frowned.

"You didn't have to lie for them you know, miss. They're just some hooligans."

He looked up at the teens who were now spray painting the building they had been sitting in front of and rolled his eyes. As someone who had grown up to follow all of his mother's rules and work extremely hard to get were he was, it practically disgusted him. Such troublesome behavior that could never be fixed.

"Before you know it, they'll all be dead by tomorrow anyway."

The other adult simply chuckled in response and looked up at the officer with a look of pure emptiness and replied in a soft, yet dead toned voice,

"Then let today be their tomorrow."

×××

Past BlueBird Rode and down MaryLane, the two finally made it to the broken down apartment complex that was completely covered in trash, littering not only one balcony but multiple. There was even an old roach infested, bloodstained mattress sitting outside which let off a strong musty stench in the heat.

The police officer covered his noise as he parked his car in front of the apartment and got out in a hurry.

While he did not want to judge, he just had to blurt out,

"You live here, miss?"

To which the other man nodded, "Better than the rode we just past. I would never go back to living down BlueBird Rode again! To many prostitutes at night down there and to think people still raise their kids to grow up in this city."

The only thing the officer could say to such as response was a simple, nervously confused, "Oh?"

The young man let out a cute, soft giggle at the officer's wariness, "Hey, how about I offer you some tea? You look a little scared, Mr. Policeman!"

"D-do I?"

"Mm-hm! My treat! Now come on!"

Before the officer could say anything else, he was immediately pulled by the arm and lead up a couple of stairs, each hallway they past smelled like smoke, cigarette buds and dust littered the black carpeted floors and the mold in the corners had started to blend with the carpet. Each door they had past was either busted slightly open, scratched up with chalk from the kids who lived here or in the case of one, blown up with bullet holes.

The only door that didn't look tattered up or had mold and cigarette buds everywhere, was the only one with a slightly faded but readable number, apartment 208!

The police officer watched the other unlock the door and swing it open, causing a loud THUMP to be heard, followed by the sound of shattered glass as a picture had suddenly fallen off the wall.

While the apartment looked to be squeaky clean there was still some things that looked off.

There were slight cracks in the wall, dirty dishes piled up in the sink, small bits of crumbs and paper accumulated in some corners of the living room, and the dinning room, which was cramped right next to the living room couch was dusty beyond belief and looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

"Sorry if it's a bit dusty and dirty, I wasn't really expecting a visitor."

The other man snickered and pulled over a chair, "Please by all means take a seat, Mr. Policeman! I'll be right back, okay?"

The officer did as he was told and sat down, taking off his hat and fanning himself with it. Was this really was the hottest summer yet? Or maybe he was just uncomfortable? He never knew the city was this bad after all! Sure, rowdy, rebellious teens was one thing but this? This was a living nightmare!

As soon as he finished his tea, he would leave and head back home immediately and report back to his boss, the chief of police, Morgan Grantz! AcersVille was clearly NOT the city that needed to be protected by outsiders!

The officer gulped and turned his attention back to the cracks in the wall and adjusted his collar.

"So, if you don't mind me asking, miss, how long have you lived here? This places looks a bit-"

"Shabby? Yeah, I know. The last people that lived here left it a hot mess, hence the cracks. I've been trying to find another place to say but there really isn't a safe place to go."

When the man came back, he was holding a small tray that had two cups of tea diligently placed on top of it. He carefully sat the tray down on the table, and sat across from the officer.

He picked up his cup of tea by the handle and frowned, "Everywhere's the same..."

The officer shifted his eyes to the single cup om the tray and picked it up, taking a small sip. He was curious so he finally popped out the question that was truly on his mind, "Can't you just leave?"

The other man in the room got quiet.

"Leave?"

A long, awkward pause.

"No. I can't just leave. I was born here."

The officer shrugged and sat his cup down, "So? I was born in East Armeira, but that doesn't mean I have to stay, even if it is my home."

"Y-you wouldn't get it..."

"Get what? That this city is a extremely disheveled? Unsafe even?"

The man bit his lip and fiddled with the rim of his cup, "It's complicated..."

Another long awkward pause.

The young man adjusted his glasses and looked up at the officer, now curious.

"What's East Armeira like anyway, Mr. Policeman?"

"I don't really know how to explain it that well, miss. It's a very nice place, nicer than here anyway. Everyone gets along, everyone knows everybody, it's perfect!"

The man raised an eyebrow, he had never heard someone describe a city as perfect before.

"Really?"

"Sorta. Crime exist but its mostly petty theft. Nothing really too serious, ya know."

When the police off took another sip, the other man's eyes started to sparkle with curiosity! He began to question the officer about everything he knew about East Armeira. Like what were the people or if they had a mall? Did they also have a nightly carnival like they did over here? The possible amount of questions was endless!

And each time the officer would answer, giving out what he knew from a personal perspective of growing up in such a wonderful town! And each time he did, the man's eyes got even more filled with curiosity and he began to ask even more questions.

"Oh I see! Maybe one day I can come and visit you, Mr. Policeman!"

The officer let out a light chuckle followed by a warm smile as he sat his empty cup down on the tray, got up and put his hat back on.

"Oh please, call me, Estevan! Estevan Aguliar!"

"Estevan? That's a very funny name!"

"Oh? Then what's your name, miss?"

The nam hesitated at first even backing away in the process. He swore he would never give his name out to anyone else ever again, especially not a police officer but since Estevan seemed very very kind and extremely sweet, he broke his vow.

He cleared his throat and let out a hushed sigh.

"...Milo Campbell. Milo J-Josiah Campbell. Though you can just call me Milo..."

The officer blinked then let out a mean snicker, "You look a lot more like a Lily or a Charlotte, miss."

Milo was about to say something but kept his mouth shut once Estevan checked his watch and shook his head. He gave Milo another warm smile and started to head back home.

"Guess I have to go, Ms. Campbell! Thanks for the tea by the way, it was delicious!"

Milo smiled back, "Oh, no problem! Feel free to stop by anytime, Mr. Policeman!"

Estevan let out a light laugh as he headed out the door and back to his car, only to see it completely vandalize with gang graffiti. An annoyed sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his eyes abd walked over to the driver's seat and scooted his way inside.

The last thing he saw was Milo. Standing by the window, waving goodbye.

~~~

Sorry @mrboogerlip if Estevan is written out of character I tried my hardest to say in character but I always end up picturing him as a serious yet stern guy with a sensitive soft side XD

And sorry if I got East Armeira wrong too! I have no idea what the town or city is suppose to be like but I imagine it's a big city/town with lots of people who are very very sweet and are easy to get along with but the town itself also has some very dark stuff like the whole Correa Family!

[nonadhesiveness]

breaking the rules

Nadine stood at the head of the table in Conference East, peering at the padfolio that lay open in her hands. “I’d like to remind everyone that any holiday decorations are to be unobtrusive and respectful of people of all faiths.” She wet the pad of her index finger, and turned the page. Her eyebrows arched—not by much, but enough for Elizabeth to notice. “Also, in the interest of avoiding any lawsuits, HR have issued a memo stating there’s to be no mistletoe.”

Matt rocked forward in his seat, and nabbed a croissant from the tray in the middle of the table. “Spoilsports,” he muttered, loud enough that it was clearly meant to be heard.

Nadine folded shut the padfolio and tucked it under her arm. “With that out of the way, we can return to the more pressing issue of the situation in Chad.”

“Thanks, Nadine,” Elizabeth said, as her chief of staff walked over and slipped into the seat next to hers.

She turned to Jay, mouth open, ready to ask if he’d heard back from his French counterparts, when Henry McCord—sorry, Dr Henry McCord—strode through from the outer office, coat slung over his arm, briefcase in hand.

“Madam Secretary.” He sent her a stiff nod in greeting. “Sorry I’m late. My car wouldn’t start.” He gripped the back of the chair next to Matt’s, fingertips curling into the cushion, and pulled the chair out from the table. 

Still tearing his croissant into shreds atop a paper napkin, Matt twisted to Henry with a smirk. “Is that code for ‘I had a hot date last night and had to make it across town to get a change of clothes before work this morning’.”

Henry sent Matt a look dark enough to make Matt drop the smirk and return to his croissant. “No. It’s code for ‘My car wouldn’t start’.” He placed his coat and suitcase in a heap at the foot of his chair, took a seat, and glanced around the rest of the staff. “Did I miss anything?”

“HR banned mistletoe.” Blake’s voice, muffled by a mouthful of something, came from the desk in the corner.

“Not that you’d care,” Matt muttered.

Daisy raised her eyebrows as she tapped at the screen of her tablet, then set the tablet on the table. “I’d say the lack of a hot date would increase one’s interest in mistletoe.”

Before they could drift off topic, possibly risk Henry enlightening them about the historical background of mistletoe and why HR were right to ban it, but for totally different and no doubt obscure ethical/cultural/religious reasons, Elizabeth stepped in. “We were about to discuss the situation in Chad. I trust you have an ethical perspective that you’d like to share, Dr McCord.”

Daisy raised her mug to her lips; the ceramic barely concealed her murmur. “Here we go.”

Henry levelled his gaze on Elizabeth. “Actually,” he said, his tone hard, a touch too combative, “I do.”

And so began the lecture…

—Sorry. The ethical argument that they ought to consider.

///

Later, there was a knock at Elizabeth’s office door. 

“Come in,” she called out, as she swept her signature across the bottom of yet another document. (She swore the pile was getting bigger with each one that she signed.)

The door handle clattered, the door arced open, and Henry appeared in the entrance. 

“Madam Secretary? Can I have a word?”

She tossed the document at the out-tray and capped her pen. “Sure,” she said. “Close the door.”

Henry stepped inside, and shut the door with a snick; the moment he did, both their expressions gave way and softened into smiles. 

Elizabeth rose from her chair and turned, ready to meet him. “Hey, there.”

He came to a stop in front of her, but rather than slipping one hand beneath her blazer to sit on her waist and leaning in for a kiss like he usually would, he pulled something out of his jacket pocket and held it above them.

She looked up.

Mistletoe. 

She grinned, and returned her gaze to his. “I didn’t have you pegged for a rule breaker, Dr McCord.”

He shrugged. “On occasion. For the right person.”

Warmth spread through her chest, causing her grin to widen; his lines might be cheesier than the chicken Alfredo he cooked for her last night, but she couldn’t deny they had the desired effect.

She cupped his cheek, and brushing her thumb back and forth, drew him in for a slow and heavy kiss.

When they parted, she rested her hands on his chest, made a pretence of smoothing his shirt. “Do you think they know?” she said, in reference to the staff—and to Matt’s comment, in particular.

He pulled a face, as if genuinely considering it, then gave her an easy smile. “I think we’re good.”

“So, my place again tonight?”

He winked. “Can’t wait.” With that, he stepped away—they never had long—and he headed for the door.

The air between them eased back towards professional, but before it could revert entirely, she called after him, “This time, maybe bring a change of clothes.”

His back still to her, he mock-saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”

The door closed, and the office returned to a steady silence, punctuated by the clock ticking away on the mantle.

She watched after him for a few moments more, then picked up the mistletoe he’d left at the edge of her desk and secreted it into the top drawer. She didn’t know yet what this thing between them was, but she felt certain of this:

She’d break every last rule in the book for Henry McCord.

[laxmiree]

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 39- Lucien’s split chapter

⚠️  SPOILER ALERT  ⚠️

This post contains a VERY HEAVY SPOILER for the chapter that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free  to notify me if  there are any mistakes in the translation~

IMPORTANT!!! to fully understand the story, prior knowledge of previous S2 chapters are needed. Before, I made a short summary that explain those chapters. I hope this can help :D

“If you want to win, you must take all the initiative into your own hands.”

“Lucien, I won't lose.”

First of all, please note that I won’t translate ch 38. But I translated this chapter batch summary here to help y’all understand about the plot in general.

But long story short, after getting 'shot' (but also, not really, since a barrier appeared before she got shot-). MC got transported to BS hall and then entered Black Cabin. In the black cabin, she was trying to reach a door with ∞ symbol but failed, and Gavin, who somehow also entered the place, persuaded her to check Loveland City first.

They part ways, and she returns to a high building in Loveland City. She met Time Administration Bureau and Victor here. TAB was trying to fix the timeline by manipulating the overlapping zone but failed. Victor said that he would find a way to change the situation. During her conversation with Victor, MC saw a countdown above Loveland City, counting down the doomsday. There's a white building in the center of Loveland City that's likely to be a lighthouse. So, she went home to take a piece of paper that 502 gave her. She entered the Lighthouse with Helios's help.

Inside Lighthouse, she met Lucien, and with his help, she managed to call on the Lighthouse, whose name is 'π'. 'π' told her that she could break the world's rules using the power of the QUEEN, Evol energy, and the dark matter of the universe. Since there's not much time left until doomsday, she plans to use time loop evol. And for that, she asked Lucien's help to find the time loop-evolver, a little girl.

After understanding the rules of the time loop, MC began her journey to break the rules of the world with the little girl's help by taking advantage of the extra time the time loop gave. On one of the loops, to know more about dark matter, MC called Lucien to ask him about it.

[Chapter 39–Lucien Split Route–1]

Upon pressing the familiar number, the phone was picked up almost immediately, and the familiar and reassuring breathing sound flowed into my ears.

Lucien: Smart girl.

I couldn't hold back my smile at this Professor Lucien, who seemed to be able to remain perceptive at all times.

MC: Have I kept you waiting long?

Lucien: It's fine. Let's get in the car and talk about it. We still have a long way to go. I'll meet you at the park entrance.

After being surprised for a second, I quickened my pace and ran. After passing through the gate at the exit, a black SUV just stopped by the side of the road.

I immediately went over to open the door and got into the passenger seat. The car started up almost simultaneously.

Lucien: MC, let me confirm one thing. You should be in the loop by now, right?

MC: Yes. So whatever you want to do, we should have plenty of opportunities for trial and error.

Lucien's deep gaze moved over and collided with my firm gaze.

The next second, he raised the corners of his lips without a hint of hesitation.

Lucien: It is fun to find the answers.

Lucien: I'm glad to be able to enjoy this process with you at the end of time.

MC: It's also my honor, Professor Lucien.

Lucien took MC to a laboratory 2,000 meters underground. It's set up underground to block out "noise" from particles that enter the earth. Lucien explained that many laboratories that are used to observe the universe are set up underground.

Lucien: If humans want to touch the universe, sometimes they need to descend underground to reach the farthest corners of the universe.

After a few bumpy rides, the car stopped in front of the dimly lit mine.

Even though I had no prior experience, I knew that the process before entering the lab must be extremely complicated.

So after putting on our helmets, we made our way down the mine tunnel until we reached a simple mine elevator.

Lucien: MC, are you ready?

MC: I'm ready.

I followed Lucien inside, and after the personnel shut the gate, the elevator began to go down as if there was no end.

The view in front of me became dimmer and darker, with only a faint reflection of the distant mine lamps illuminating the surrounding rock walls.

In the endless descent, my mind became calmer, as if the world around me had quieted down together.

MC asked Lucien if the dark matter would really help. Lucien answered that he was not sure, but 'π' words made him willing to try.

MC: So what is this so-called "dark matter"?

Lucien: In theory, it is just an invisible and unidentifiable substance that exists in the universe.

Lucien: Because of its invisibility, humans can only observe it through its effects on the environment, such as the shift of light.

Lucien: In astrophysics, this is the "gravitational lens" effect that you might find when you search on your phone.

MC: I feel that all of my actions are easily predicted by you…

Lucien: After all, MC has always been a very curious student.

MC: Then let me ask you, after I check this information, what's the next step?

Lucien: For the next step… the "omnipotent and smart" Professor Lucien will be happy to answer all your questions as you wish.

I couldn't help but snicker at his slightly bantering words and felt immensely relieved.

Lucien answered all of MC's questions and explained the dark matter in detail.

MC: It sounds so abstract…

At that moment, the elevator stopped with a gentle jolt. When the gate opened, the surrounding area was still dark and uneven.

Lucien took me a few steps forward and entered another mine elevator to continue on the descent.

Accompanied by the already familiar shaking, Lucien's voice fell back into my ears.

Lucien: Indeed. So, in fact, I have a lot of admiration for physicists who are studying dark matter.

Lucien: They are constantly walking on the edge of the observable and imaginary worlds, constructing thoughts and judgments.

Lucien: To capture the traces of dark matter through its effects and to imagine how it shapes the universe.

Lucien's pupils appeared extraordinarily bright in the dimly lit mine, and I saw the endless enthusiasm like a tidal wave rolling in them.

MC: Lucien, where would you say the end of the universe exploration will be?

Lucien: Hmm….

He blinked lightly, lost in thought for a moment at the face of my question, and then raised the corners of his mouth.

Lucien: I hope it will never end.

The boundaries of human knowledge are endlessly expanded, and there is always one more question to explore in the truth of life.

Humankind is always on the road of exploration, and curiosity and knowledge are always leading the way.

At the end of time, Lucien and I were talking about the distant universe in the middle of the mine tunnel that kept going down.

It is as if we are now standing in the whole universe.

MC: I always feel the universe will be on our side and lend us strength.

The faint mineral lamp illuminated Lucien's eyes and gently absorbed me into them.

Lucien: With your being here, the answer will soon be known.

After changing the lift an unknown number of times, a heavy radiation protection door finally appeared in front of us.

MC: …Are we finally here?

Lucien smiled gently and continued to lead me through a long corridor and protective door until my vision became clear-

I found myself in front of a huge laboratory, where there were nearly dozens of large and cold lab instruments.

Noticing his arrival, several researchers nodded slightly at Lucien. They thanked him for providing them with 'a model of the world' where they could test their conjectures and look for possibilities. Lucien told them to continue the test while he'll synchronize information with MC.

Lucien led me through a relatively spacious road between the lab instruments.

Lucien: MC, as I said before, the information left by the lighthouse gave me a direction I had previously overlooked.

Lucien: If the world is really locked in a "box", there are still many powers at our disposal.

Lucien: So everything you see right now is a simulation test.

MC: Is it a test to see if dark matter can really be useful?

Lucien: That's right. I helped them build a model of the world that is precisely the same as the real world.

Lucien: Tests were conducted to find possibilities for the presence of approximate regions of dark matter around several galaxies.

He paused, and his dark eyes seemed to fall into thought.

Lucien: Of course, along this line, we are also considering the possibility of using other forces in the universe to achieve the same effect.

Lucien: For example, black holes.

I was so confused, and the staggering buzz of the instruments around me made me dizzy.

I know Lucien must have brought me here for more than just wanting me to learn about this.

MC: What do you need from me?

Lucien stopped in his tracks and looked at me with frankness and trust mixed in with his eyes.

Lucien: I need samples and time.

Lucien: Although every researcher here has the most advanced technology and expertise, there is not enough time.

Lucien: We need to generate enough time for a large number of sample results.

[Chapter 39- Lucien Split Route–2]

Lucien explained that CORE power and Evol Energy might not be enough to break through the 'destruction point'. So, that's why the third force, dark matter, is also needed. And so, Lucien needs MC's help to eliminate the wrong answer.

MC: I see, so you need me to tell you the results of each of your tests to you in the next loop after the loop restarts.

MC: Helping you to connect the countless 48 hours.

I looked into his dark eyes and caught a hint of hesitation underneath his rationality and trust.

Lucien: That's right. Can you do it?

I raised the corners of my lips, reached out, and took hold of his slightly cold palm.

MC: Of course, I can, Professor Lucien. Did you forget that we did this a long time ago?

In my first fall into the vortex, he relied on each of my results to come up with answers that broke the loop.

MC: This is the only thing I can do, and I will do my best to help you.

MC: I'm glad to be able to enjoy the fun process of finding answers with you at the end of time.

Hearing me say that, the last trace of his hesitation dissipated. I looked up at the countdown overhead.

-44:23:18.

MC: Lucien, the next loop has less than 41 hours to go.

In response, my hand was clasped back by Lucien, who stood up and made a reverent gesture of invitation.

Lucien: Let's go. Time to go back to our fellow researchers.

Lucien: And welcome to the world of exploration.

He neatly placed time limits on each part of the work.

Then, it’s followed by a rush of conversation, the roar of instruments, and orderly footsteps. They intersected so chaotically that my memories seemed to overlap at the moment.

I still remember the busy figures passing by on the doomsday seventeen years ago.

It seems that no matter how many times we start over, there is always a group of people who won't stop, even though the world is about to be destroyed.

Until their last moment, they would do their best to record the last scientific record under 2,000 meters of the earth.

I sat quietly until the time was about to enter a new loop, and Lucien approached me with a document in hand.

Lucien: MC, due to the time constraint, I will not introduce this 186th experiment and just announce the result-

Lucien: It's a failure.

He spoke calmly, without a trace of remorse on his face.

MC: Okay, is there any other information you'd like to pass on to you from over 40 hours ago?

Lucien: There is no more.

In Lucien's gentle gaze, I don't even need to ask if he will outright trust me next time.

He had told me the answer long ago.

MC: Then I'm off, Lucien.

Lucien: See you 48 hours ago.

As I drifted, my senses went from chaotic to being clear again, and after a wave of nausea in my stomach, the loop restarted again.

When I open my eyes, there is still a changing countdown overhead.

-50:59:16.

I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, and dialed Lucien's phone.

MC: Lucien, this is the second loop since I met you, and your 186th experiment failed.

After a moment of silence on the phone, the soft voice came through.

Lucien: MC, great work. I see you've been to our lab.

MC: Um, so just keep moving forward with your plan, and I'll be waiting for the results.

MC: And then I will pass this result on to you so that you can eliminate the wrong direction.

He responded softly and did not hang up the phone, although now his voice was much further away as if he was talking to other researchers.

After a while, he spoke again.

Lucien: For the rest of the day, go home and rest. Maintaining good physical strength is the basis for continuing our momentum.

Lucien: This experiment may have to be prepared for a long battle.

After hanging up the phone, I followed Lucien's advice and went home without disturbing him again.

But Lucien made several phone calls while I was waiting, sometimes, he would talk about the progress of the moment, but most of the time, he just chatted with me.

These few minutes of conversation were probably breather for both of us.

The endless cycle kept pressing on my senses. I started to stop running home and leaned on the park bench instead.

Over the phone, I kept telling him about the results of their last experiments the next time.

I was constantly fixing, constantly optimizing, and constantly updating.

MC: Lucien, this is the 79th loop since I met you, and this is the 328th experiment.

MC: Unfortunately, it is also a failure.

Despite my efforts to sound very positive, an audible sigh entered my ears.

Lucien: I'm sorry, are you tired?

MC: It's okay. I've been doing this for a long time. After all, failure is the root of success!

The low laugh full of tenderness fell on my ears. Although I could not see Lucien's face at the moment, I could imagine his lips curled up at my response.

Lucien: Then let our failures move forward.

MC: And one more word from you 40 hours later...

MC: "Try reducing the distance to within a billion light-years."

I don't know how much time has passed, but the countdown overhead has changed from -50:30:28 at the beginning to -7:59:07 now.

In less than 5 hours, the loop will restart again.

When I was ready for another failure, Lucien's call finally came.

MC: What's the result I'm supposed to convey this time?

In response to me, there was a loud and clear cheer over the phone-

??: We found it! We found it!! It's a hole in Bootes, the quality here is just right…!

It was a kind of heartiness and joy full of victory, a sense of accomplishment and conquest, which lingered in my ears for a long time.

Even though I was not in the underground laboratory, I was still surrounded by the atmosphere, causing my vision to be a little blurred.

Lucien: I want you to hear those sounds too.

After a long time, Lucien's words came steadily from the other end of the phone.

Lucien: Thank you, MC. We did it.

Lucien: Let us take care of the rest.

Lucien: The world is still very generous.

Perhaps this is the most emotional moment of science when countless failures are transformed into flowers.

MC: Lucien, it's really fun to find the answers!

Lucien: The world is indeed a fascinating place.

Lucien: On a good day, I would like to share with you an answer that I am always seeking but is never-ending.

I couldn't help but smile, feeling that although the world was heavy, even though the huge countdown was pressing down on the sky, I felt like I had the freedom to breathe.

MC: I wish tomorrow would be a sunny day.

Lucien: Yes, it will. If not, I'll find a way to get rid of all the dark clouds.

The faint sound of his soft laughter was like a gentle palm caressing my heart.

Lucien: As much as I'd like to give you a break, the more loops you do, the more you'll be burdened.

Lucien: So, while there is still time, do you have the energy to make the next preparation for tomorrow?

MC: Of course!

MC: I'm full of motivation now!

The phone was quiet for a moment, and soon a detailed address popped up on my phone.

Lucien: I'll see you here later.

[Chapter 39- Lucien Split Route –3]

With a few hours left, Lucien invites MC to a villa to meet. After MC arrived at the villa, Lucien called her and told her to enter the darkened villa through a side door.

I groped into the room by the moonlight, gradually getting used to the darkness, and saw Lucien standing by the window.

But compared to standing here without the lights on, the scene in front of me made me freeze in place

Lucien had a sniper rifle on the windowsill in front of him, which reflected the moonlight and cast an icy light.

Seeing this sight, I almost subconsciously lowered my voice.

MC: Lucien, what are you doing?

Lucien: This is the next preparation.

Lucien silently leaned down, holding the rifle with one hand in front of the other, and the shoulder rest was tightly placed against the front of his shoulder.

His dark eyes were like a hunter's, straight through the scope, aiming his gun at the villa across the street.

Although I was confused, the atmosphere kept me firmly in place, and I was afraid I might alert the enemy.

Bang-!

A sharp roar instantly pierced the air, like a stone thrown into the lake's surface, but unexpectedly erupted with a burst of sound.

There was a messy sound of crashing glass, and it came from across the street in a panic.

I held my breath to examine everything before me and went to Lucien's side.

MC: We're so close. Won't they find us?

Lucien: They will. That's why we have to wait here.

High-ranking cadres and Leto come out from the villa. It turned out that they had long been secretly colluding. It explains why the blood virus spread through the city's waterworks, why the City Council blamed evolver for the blood virus, and why Evolver deterioration hospital was established, but the patients get shot without hesitation.

I turned my head in fear and found the answer in Lucien's calm eyes.

Leto has always been involved in everything in the shadows.

This is what Lucien wants me to prepare for the future.

A burst of searching footsteps gradually approached us. Lucien lowered his eyes upon hearing the sound, holding the sniper rifle persistently in his hand.

Lucien: No matter how deep their previous partnership, at least we've confirmed it with our own advantage.

Bang-

The door behind me was kicked open. I turned around and watched as several GR men pointed their guns at us and instantly pulled the trigger.

MC: ...!

In an instant, the gunshots rang out, and when I tried to use my power, I found the cold bullets were already hovering in the air.

There seems to be a strong repulsive force between them, shaking them up and down.

I looked at Lucien and found that the chandelier and broken glass shot down by bullets seemed to have lost gravity and hung in the air.

Lucien: MC, the world isn’t always about a struggle between humans and common sense.

Lucien: If you want to win, you must take all the initiative into your own hands.

His cold voice is like a sharp ice pick in the winter. Even if the number of people breaking in gradually increased, Lucien's eyes have never been loaded down with their figures.

As the GR members gritted their teeth and raised their guns again, he gave them no more chance to fire, his fingertips suddenly glowing with light-

In an instant, the wrists of those people were twisted by an invisible force, and their wails were heard in all directions.

He raised his hand and gently waved it, throwing GR people out of the door and slamming the door shut

But it did not end there. Many footsteps from a distance gradually approach us.

Lucien remained unmoved. His gaze gently fell on me when his cold eyes seemed to be softened a bit by the moonlight.

But he never put away the heavy oppression, as if to remind me-

Dangers are everywhere.

I almost forgot to breathe when I looked at Lucien in front of me.

Lucien: It is about time.

I looked at the countdown overhead and nodded matter-of-factly.

MC: Lucien, I won't lose.

He raised the corner of his mouth imperceptibly. It’s as if he was smiling.

Lucien: Doomsday is just an unusual point in the torrent of time, and we still have a lot to deal with after that.

Lucien: Whether it's some of the questions about the world…

Lucien: …Or all the images and memories that appear in my sight and dreams that do not belong to me.

He paused, and his quiet eyes showed some more profound emotions.

Lucien: But now I am certain they are all mine, and there is no other possibility.

I quietly looked at Lucien. I knew exactly what he was referring to, but I didn't know how to say it.

He stepped on the moonlight and came towards me, brushing his fingers through my hair.

Lucien: MC, you are my answer to all these mysteries.

Lucien: I guess I'll probably have the chance after all this is over.

I lowered my eyes and gently held his palm, which he had not put down yet.

MC: Lucien, everything you said is also what I expected. I also hope to solve all the mysteries in your heart.

MC: So it's not just you. I'll also continue to work hard.

MC: Now… I'm leaving.

Lucien looked at our clasped palms as if he was trying to feel each other's temperature.

I slowly pulled out my hand and waved it at him with a smile.

MC: See you later, Lucien.

[Next-> Lucien’s Split Chapter 40]

[prairiesongserial]

21.8

Friday lay in bed with Cody, both of them dressed in the new traveling clothes that Sacha had given them. Both of them stared up at the ceiling, elbows touching. Sacha had gone to great expense just to fuck them over with that letter of introduction–Friday kept coming back to that. And whether it had been intentional or not. It was a waste of her energy, trying to figure it out, but it was better than thinking about Val.

Cody, she was pretty sure, wasn’t thinking at all. She’d told him her plan several times, Cody fighting for understanding from the very distant place his mind had gone. Eventually he had nodded and agreed: whatever you think is best.

Cody breathed deeply beside her–if not for the steady hammer of his heart, she could have mistaken him for asleep. Almost time. She wanted to wait at least until midnight. She imagined the rescue team–fuck the rescue team–had spent the rest of the afternoon testing the stability of the cave-in before finally taking a delicate, hesitant approach–digging Val and John out one rock at a time, more curious to see if they were still alive than moved by any urgency. Friday grit her teeth.

Cody’s hand found hers, and she gripped it back, hard.

“How’s that head?” she asked him. Cody was lightly concussed from the fall after Officer Liang had tased him. A doctor had come to the room to check him out after.

“Fine,” he said. “Hurts.”

It was like lying next to John. Friday rolled her eyes fondly and gave his hand another hard squeeze.

“Ready?” she said. It wasn’t as late as she had wanted, but she couldn’t wait any longer.

Cody nodded in the dark.

*

It wasn’t hard to get her hands on a map of the city once they were out of the palace. Friday broke into a shuttered newsstand and got herself an entire book of maps. She flipped through under a street lamp, shaking a few bits of glass from her coat sleeve.

After a minute to orient herself, Cody standing silently at her side, Friday started walking. The entrances to the subway weren’t marked on the map, but she was able to find the cross-street where they’d been separated from John and Val. If the subway had been laid out on a grid, it wouldn’t be hard to find another way down.

Friday walked fast. It would be a long, cold walk before they reached their starting point.

When she and Cody had arrived back at the palace, Officer Liang had put them in a guest room to wait for news about their friends. She hadn’t warned them–maybe hadn’t known–that the Queen would come in person to talk to them.

Friday had been sitting on the floor, too tired to clean up and get changed, with her back braced against the bed. Cody had been in worse shape. He was conscious, but sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, bent double with his hands over the back of his head. He kept threatening to throw up.

The Queen entered without knocking. She was dressed in a pink pantsuit and heels, silver jewelry jangling at her wrists.

“My guard says John Graves and Valerie Lecter are unaccounted for,” she had said–no greeting. She was clearly livid. “The explosives were tampered with and detonated prematurely–how curious. And now two French spies are running loose under my city.”

That was an interesting way to say that the bag holding volatile explosives had been hit by a train. But Friday and Cody hadn’t shared that detail, and no matter how bad it looked, she wasn’t giving the Queen any information. Cody must have agreed–that, or he was too nauseous to speak.

“I am not pleased,” the Queen snapped. “Mr. Graves and Mr. Lecter must have understood that the two of you are my collateral when they left you behind. Until they return–or are brought back–the two of you will be staying where I can see you.”

So the Queen thought that John and Val had met up with the faction that had kidnapped the princes–the regent’s supporters. Conspiracy made more sense than random tragedy. Friday also would have liked to believe that John and Val had blown the explosives and escaped into the Underground as an act of political espionage.

So they’d waited, and were left alone for the most part. Shortly after Cody was seen by the doctor, one of the palace guard had come to deliver dinner; Friday had stolen his keys. They’d washed up and changed clothes. And kept waiting.

Friday held her map up under the next street light. This was where they’d resurfaced, she and Officer Liang carrying Cody between them. Their best bet was to head east, keeping their eyes peeled for another train station.

Friday looked up from the map and nearly jumped out of her skin. The Queen was standing stock-still against the nearest brick building. She was barely caught in the light of the street lamp, staring placidly at Friday and waiting to be noticed.

“What?” Cody said. His eyes followed hers, but he didn’t have the same reaction. He stepped closer. A second later, Friday realized that what she was looking at was a life-sized poster plastered onto the brick.

“Stand together for a safer England,” Cody said flatly. “Queen Georgiana Victoria is here to help.”

Friday realized what had been bothering her–what didn’t make sense. There had been a regent and a couple of kid princes. Where the hell had they come up with a queen?

Cody returned to Friday’s side, then shrugged. They walked east. More life-sized posters of the Queen were glued up on nearly every wall, but she and Cody didn’t stop to read them. They did walk a little faster.

It wasn’t long until they found another entrance down into the subway. They climbed down a quiet, dark set of stairs that seemed to go on forever. At the bottom, Friday set down her bag and dug through for her flashlight. There was a steady dripping sound, and then the sound of footsteps.

Before Friday got her flashlight up, she found herself illuminated in a beam of light. Officer Liang was staring her down, flashlight in one hand, taser in the other.

“I fucking knew it,” Officer Liang said. “What part of ‘wait for the rescue team’ did you not understand?”

Officer Liang’s gaze slid over Friday’s shoulder, and her expression changed.

“You can come with us, then,” Cody said, voice hard. “We could use more hands. You can drop that.”

“Please lower your weapon,” Officer Liang said, swallowing.

“No,” Cody said.

A beat of silence passed, interrupted only by the sound of dripping.

“He will shoot you,” Friday said. “We’re both a little upset that you tased him earlier.”

Still, silence. Officer Liang blinked rapidly, clearly nervous.

“No one knows you’re here, right?” Cody said. “Your shift would have ended hours ago.”

For a second, Friday was sure that Cody was going to shoot Officer Liang. She could feel his intent to kill her the way an animal’s instincts told it a predator was nearby. Then the tension broke. Officer Liang handed her taser to Friday, handle first, and Friday took it. Cody holstered his gun–John’s gun.

Officer Liang crossed her arms over her chest, looking small.

“Let’s go,” Cody said.

Friday let him take the lead, handing him the flashlight from her bag. To her surprise, Officer Liang trailed after them. Apparently if she couldn’t arrest them, she was at least determined to tail them and make her report to the Queen. Gutsy. Especially if she really thought Friday and Cody could be colluding with kidnappers or terrorists.

Cody led them to the cave-in at a fast pace. Friday took a deep breath as his flashlight moved over the wall of rock and gravel and–from this side of the cave-in–twisted metal. The train had been destroyed in the explosion, reduced to nothing but scorched parts.

The second thing Friday noticed was that there was no sign of a rescue team ever having approached the site–at least not from this side. No scaffolding or supports, no tools, no sign of progress. Friday looked at Officer Liang out of the corner of her eye. Her mouth hung slightly open.

“Is that a train?” she mouthed. She reached for the portable phone on her belt. Friday snatched it without any resistance.

Cody was pacing in front of the wreckage. He’d extend a hand sometimes toward a sheet of metal, as if to look underneath it, but stop himself at the last second.

The beam of his flashlight glanced off something on the wall. Friday took Officer Liang’s flashlight before she could protest and went to get a better look.

It was graffiti. Friday ran the light up and down the wall–it was completely covered in spray-painted words, pictures, and symbols. It was like they were in a different subway tunnel. On the other side of the cave-in, there hadn’t been anything like this.

Officer Liang also seemed interested. She gave a low whistle.

“What’s any of this mean?” Friday asked her. She spared a glance to Cody. He had stopped pacing, but he hadn’t started digging. Also thinking, like her, that if John and Val had been caught in that rubble, they were already dead.

Officer Liang had started to answer Friday’s question–the faction that had kidnapped the princes was anti-Monarchy, which was why they had thrown their support behind the regent when he had attempted to assassinate the princes and had finished the job themselves.

“You think the princes are dead?” Friday said. She turned, bringing the light to the opposite wall of the tunnel, where there was more of the same style of graffiti. Something metal on the tracks caught the light for a second, and Friday thought she knew what it was. Blood pounded in her ears as she attempted to keep the beam of the flashlight steady on the wall. She wanted to make sure, but she didn’t want to draw too much attention from Officer Liang.

“They’ve been missing for a while now,” Officer Liang said hesitantly. “They wouldn’t keep them alive.”

Friday barely heard her. Not Our Queen was painted large over ten or twelve feet of the wall. The writing was stylized in a way that made it hard for Friday to read. Similar messages covered the surrounding wall:

Where’d you come from, Georgiana?

Fuck your throne.

And… Friday squinted. She stepped closer. There was spray-painted writing, a long phrase written much smaller than the other messages so that it would fit.

Popule meus, quid feci tibi? aut in quo constristavi te? responde mihi.

Friday sounded out the phrase, confused when it didn’t come together into words she recognized. It hadn’t been stylized like the other graffiti. A less-experienced hand had clearly been trying very hard to make each letter legible, though still the paint had dripped and bled. It was the most recent message on this wall, Friday realized, seeing how it overlapped on top of all the surrounding tags and slogans.

Responde mihi. Answer me. She knew that. She read it all again. She turned her flashlight off so that Officer Liang wouldn’t see the shaking beam of light. Or the expression on her face.

She could hear it in Val’s voice, the disturbing chant that was part of the Good Friday service. She couldn’t have said exactly what this part meant, but now that she knew what she was looking at, she could hear the rhythm of it in her head. Responde mihi.

Why this message? Val had to know she didn’t know Latin. She wouldn’t understand. Tears of relief threatened to spill over even as her mind raced, reading the message over and over. He knew she wouldn’t understand, so maybe the meaning didn’t matter. What mattered was what she did understand. 

It was a Catholic thing. It was only said for Good Friday–she almost laughed through her tears. For her, it was a message for her. Thanks, Val, she got it. 

And he wanted an answer. An answer to what? Maybe not an answer to a question, but a response, something that Friday had to do. She shuffled back to the center of the tracks and turned the flashlight back on, slowly raising it back to the wall, as if she’d intended to get another look from a few feet back. Really, she was scanning the ground–there. The glimmer of metal, not scorched and black, but shiny. Friday’s heart beat a little faster.

A sound of distress drew her attention back to the rubble. Cody was holding something. Officer Liang hurried to his side, and Friday took the opportunity to snatch up what she had seen on the tracks. She closed her fist around it, sand and gravel leaking out of her fingers.

She approached Cody, joining Officer Liang. He’d found a boot with the laces slashed, rather than untied. He stood there, holding it, staring at Friday for an explanation.

“Is that John’s?” she asked.

Cody nodded, his mouth twisted.

She took it from him, not wanting to look, but knowing that it would decide whether John had also survived. She grit her teeth and looked inside the boot. It was empty. She dropped it and grasped Cody into a hug.

“He’s alive,” she whispered into the crook of his neck. “Act sad.”

Beside them, keeping some distance, Officer Liang looked disturbed. Like she wanted to offer condolences but knew they wouldn’t be welcome. Friday squeezed Cody tighter into the hug, the ring clutched in her fist held tightly enough to make a circular indent in her palm.

“Really?” Cody said, crying.

“Shh,” Friday said, but she nodded, rubbing the sides of their heads together.

*

As the three of them walked back the way they’d come, Friday’s flashlight grazed floor-to-ceiling letters spray-painted in black. They were so large that Friday had to hold the letters in her mind as they progressed, gradually putting the words together.

H-E

H-E-M

She reached into her pocket to touch the ring she’d picked up from the middle of the tracks. The ring Val had believed she would find. Responde mihi–answer me–bring it back to me?

H-E-M-I-S-P-H-E-R-E

O-U-T

The full meaning of Val’s message fell into place, answering a question she hadn’t thought to ask. 

Why leave her a coded message unless something was keeping Val and John from communicating clearly? The Good Friday service, and this part in particular, was all about Christ’s betrayal–it was basically a big “What the hell did I ever do to you?”

Either Val hadn’t been in a position to send her a message freely, or he hadn’t thought it was safe for Friday to receive it.

Either way, Friday understood loud and clear: Watch your back.

21.7 || epilogue 21

[jordanprice]

June 12 - Kiyomizudera and Gion

Today we went to see the Kiyomizu Temple in Kiyomizudera and to see the Gion area entertainment district. It was like an hour or so to get there by train, which as far as things for this trip is manageable. I didn’t realize the two would be so close to each other though.

When we got to Kiyomizudera, we walked through a street that had a bunch of shops that looked interesting. Lauren saw a few things she wanted to go back for, but we weren’t sure that we would be able to, at least not until after the stuff for the day. When we got to the temple, there were these metal sandals and two metal poles. I wish I got a picture of them, but unfortunately I did not (so I stole a video I took of Lauren doing it to take a pic from). You were supposed to try and lift them for some reason, so everyone did it. The sandals were easy, and the one pole was not too difficult at all. But the one I’m pretty sure was meant to be either impossible or nearly so. I think I put more effort into it than anyone and I really gave it my all, but it still wouldn’t budge. The person who put the next most effort in was probably Nico. I ended up staining my nice shirt with rust, which kinda sucked though, but it came out fairly easily luckily.

We then went to the fountains that the temple is famous for, and why it is called the Pure Water Temple. I explained how it works in the academic reflection. Bianca, Lauren, and I each picked a different one of the fountains. Bianca chose the first one, Lauren chose the middle one, and I chose the last one. So, between the three of us, we got all the things.

Okay then I don’t have any pictures of this, but get ready for this next part. Let me paint you a picture. So, next we go to this one thing that is called Canon’s womb. Yeah, I know… (also, this version of Canon is a dude, so why he got a womb?) So, you walk up to the entrance and they “strongly encourage” a ¥100 “donation” before entering. You have to take off your shoes before descending down a cold, dark staircase. When you get to the bottom and round the corner, it is pitch black. I’m talking you cannot see the person in front of you or your hand in front of your face type of dark. You have to follow the walls with your hands to be able to navigate this cavern which was void of light. Every step feels unsure and the walls are inconsistent. Eventually you arrive in this room with extremely dim lighting, just enough so you can make out this large stone disk. Which you are supposed to spin and make a wish. However, there is just one issue… they were absolutely pumping strongly scented smoke into the room. Not only do I think that that is in general an awful idea and extremely dangerous, but on top of that I have asthma. I felt awful for rushing people out so I could leave, but I think they understood. That place caused me a literal asthma attack and I’m glad I had my inhaler on me. I could barely breathe, but in a way I found that funny. That experience was supposed to be like being reborn, and when I was born the first time around I initially couldn’t breathe, so it’s on brand for me not to be able to breathe the second time around either. The irony was so delectable.

We were supposed to meet up again at six for some performance. I had gotten permission from professor Smith for Lauren and I to leave to go to the Pokémon cafe, since we already had reservations and could not change them, but also since I had asked him the day before when we would be done and he said by four and I would’ve needed to make the cancellation then. It worked out though and Lauren and I headed there. It was like 45 mins away from Gion, and our reservation was at 5:30. Lauren still wanted to look around for a while and to go back and get the things she saw on the way up as aforementioned. She seemed kinda confused at me rushing her to leave, as she thought we still had plenty of time. However, she was immediately understanding once I said that our reservation was at 5:30. This whole time she had been thinking it was at 6:15, which is our reservation time for this one vegan ramen place, so I understand the mix up. We then rush to get to the Pokémon cafe in Osaka and we make it there at like 5:28, so just in time.

The cafe itself was very cute, but I felt so bad for Lauren, as the only thing she thought she could maybe eat out of the food items on the menu ended up having shrimp in it and she couldn’t get it. There are two issues with this, one is she is vegetarian, and the second is that she is literally allergic to shrimp. She said that it was okay though and that she was just looking forward to the desserts. I got the pikachu ramen bowl and it was like literally just decorated instant ramen. It was cute, but not very tasty.

The desserts on the other hand were pretty good. Lauren and I got all three desserts and split them so we could try them all. (Unfortunately I do not have photos, my apologies)

Also, there was this whole performance with pikachu dancing, which was cute as well. One thing that pissed me off what I had reserved special merch items that you can only get if you reserve them, but they claimed I did not reserve any, even when I showed them the reservation number. Actually so annoying.

We then went to our third Pokémon center for the trip, then explored a bit more of the mall and headed back to the hotel. This was the point at which I found a basket of crème puffs in a 7-eleven, and they were genuinely incredible. Mashle has made me crave crème puffs, and I see me eating more of them in the future.

Academic reflection

Today I learned about the Kiyomizu Temple, which is also known as the Pure Water Temple. I learned about how the three fountains of pure water are said to each help with an aspect of your life. One is for help with business and academic stuff, one is for relationships and love, and one is for longevity. However, the twist is that nobody knows which fountain is which. It is said that if you drink the water from a fountain, it will help you with its corresponding aspect of life. The catch with this is that you may only drink from one, as the gods will deem you greedy if you drink from multiple. So, you only get to drink from one, and you have no idea which aspect you are supposedly getting help from the gods in.

I also learned about the Geisha entertainers in the Gion area, which used to be well known for being an entertainment district. They were not just courtesans, the Geisha were skilled, literate entertainers that would dance, play music, present poems, and more. Rich men would pay for them to perform at parties and such. There are still Geisha in the Gion area to this day, but they are less common.

[nobody7102]

It's Okay

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd

Warning: Angst, injury, plane ejection and crash, hospitals, medical talk

Request: @mypr3ttygirlworld "If your comfortable, after watching greys anatomy I have been thinking of a story where Bob gets a brain injury/ brain surgery it’s him and his so basically coming to terms with what that entails. Only if your comfortable with writing it and if not I completely understand!"

A/N: They way I cried multiple times while writing this. I changed the request a tiny bit. Also I don’t know medical stuff so idk if anything is correct medically speaking

Main Master-List

___________________________

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran from the parking lot into the entrance of the hospital, eye’s dashing around for some familiar face.

In the two years of dating Y/N knew that there would always be risks when dating Bob, but they never fully thought about it… until reality had caught up with them.

Her breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with Rooster, before she racked her eyes over the rest of the team as they all sat in the waiting area. Standing from his seat Rooster made his way over to Y/N, pulling her into a hug.

Thoughts flooded Y/N’s head as she hugged him, and that's when her senses caught up with her as she took in Rooster’s words “Maverick’s talking with the doctors right now… we don’t really know anything” 

Y/N just nodded, pulling back “Where’s Natasha?” Rooster motioned to the corner of the waiting room, where Phoenix was slumped in her chair, one arm crossed over her form as the other rested against it, covering her face as her leg bounced against the floor.

Quietly Y/N made her way over to the pilot, kneeling down in front of her, Y/N placed a hand on Phoenix’s knee, causing it to stop bouncing as she looked up.

Y/N’s eyes softened taking in Natasha’s state. Her eyes were red, hair askew, and Y/N noticed how the palms of her hands were indented with the crescent shape of her nails. Leaning forward, Y/N pulled her into a hug as the pilot let out a rigid sob, arms wrapping around Y/N’s form “I-... I don’t know what happened” she mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder. 

The damn that had been holding back the tears and emotions finally broke in Y/N as she hugged Phoenix tighter. The two, not uttering a word as the rest of the team just watched, unsure what to do.

It took a few moments for the two women to regain their senses before Y/N sat next to Natasha and rested her head on her shoulder, as everyone else moved to sit closer to them.

“What happened?” Y/N finally managed to ask after a few minutes, as she sat up, her voice was quite as if something would break if she spoke any louder.

She felt Phoenix stiffen a bit at the question before she cleared her throat “It was supposed to be a simple training day…” she swallowed what little spit was left in her dry mouth “We were just gonna be practicing a flight path and ther-” her voice caught in her throat, her thoughts raced as she tried to find the word but everything just mushed together.

“We were flying when Phoenix caught some turbulence” Hangman continued, seeing how Phoenix struggled, he took her hand in his and gave it a light squeeze “They tried to level out, but it blew out the controls… and one of the engines.” he continued

“I thought-” Natasha started again, taking a breath “I hit the canopy button… but the latch got stuck… and then Bob’s seat-” tears started to make their way down her cheeks, she lifted her hands up to hide her face “I’m so sorry Y/N” she mumbled.

Standing from her seat Y/N walked from the group and out the entrance, she paced not knowing what else to do, not noticing how Rooster had gotten up to follow her. 

“Y/N” he called out to her “Y/N, you’re gonna make yourself sick” he grabbed her arm “Will you just take a breath? Please? I know you’re worried but if you worry yourself sick, it’s not gonna do anyone any good” 

“What am I supposed to do then Rooster?” she snapped tears coming to her eyes once again “I….I don’t know how all of you can just sit in there and do fucking nothing!” she raised her voice “god I would love to just sit and do nothing but I-... I-” as she tried to finish her sentence her body began to shake, Rooster pulled her into another hug “I still have so many things I have to tell him… things I wanna do with him…. I can’t-.... I can’t lose him” she sobbed into his chest.

The two stood in silence before the heard the door to the entrance open, “Captain’s back” Coyote’s voice filled the air before the door closed again.

Pulling away from each other, Y/N wiped away the tear stains on her cheeks, taking a few breaths. 

“Are you gonna be okay?” Bradley placed a hand on her shoulder. She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as they made their way back into the waiting area. Moving back over to the team, Y/N took her place beside Phoenix, locking her arm with hers, giving her an apologetic look for leaving as she did moments before. To which Natasha just nodded before the two turned their attention to Maverick, who shot the two women a sad smile, before turning back to the majority of the team.

“Bob’s still in surgery, all the guy could tell me was that he had a brain bleed from the impact of the canopy and he’s having a craniotomy… they said it's gonna be another 2 or 3 hours. So if you all want to stay feel free, but if you want to go home and get some rest I understand. Admiral Simpson has granted everyone here time off for the week, and I will be staying and giving updates out to those who choose to go home” with that Maverick turned to hunker down in a chair.

Out of the whole team Y/N, Phoenix, Hangman, and Rooster had opted to stay with Maverick. As the time passed the team found themselves coping in any way they could.

Pete had taken to drawing small scribbles onto a notepad that he had found in the waiting area, trying to forget that the last time he was a part of an injury this bad was with Goose.

Y/N found herself biting and tugging at her nails, it wasn’t supper bad at first till she let out a sight hiss as she pulled at a hangnail. 

Looking over Phoenix noticed how red Y/N fingers had gotten, reaching her hand over she took one of Y/N’s hands in hers and gave it a squeeze. Looking away from her own hands Y/N gave Natasha a small smile of appreciation before her gaze caught sight of Natasha’s hand, which was also red and raw like her own. 

Hangman had started the train of hand holding, when he noticed how Natasha kept burying her nails into the flesh of her palms, so he took it upon himself to grab the aviator's hand to keep her from causing herself anymore damage. 

Rooster would glance between their small group before he turned his attention to the hallway watching the doctors and nurses as they walked, counting how many different colored scrubs he saw, how many were running places as opposed to walking, anything he could think of to keep his mind busy before he glanced back to his group and started the routine over.

At some point Y/N had fallen asleep against Phoenix’s shoulder, not even realizing it till Maverick and Phoenix were slowly trying to get her to stir from the slumber.

“Y/N there's a nurse coming out” as soon as the words left Phoenix’s mouth, Y/N was wide awake. Trying to straighten out her appearance as the group sat waiting to see whose name would fall from the nurses lips as she picked up a clipboard.

“Floyd, Robert” the nurse called out, causing them all to stand and follow the nurse into a hallway. Once a few feet from the waiting area a man came out to join the group. 

“Are all of you here for Mr. Floyd?” the man hummed, taking the board from the nurse. He was met with nods from the group before he looked at the board in his hand “What about the Emergency contact: Y/N Y/L/N?” 

Heading her name, Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. Bob never told her she was made his emergency contact, but she raised her hand sheepishly “That’s me” 

“Ms. Y/L/N why don’t you follow m-”

“No” Y/N cut the man off “Sorry…” she quickly apologized before adding “The people who are here are all that Bob has… at least all that he had that aren’t states away right now, whatever you tell me you can tell them” 

The man nodded then continued “Well, my name is Doctor Tanner I was the surgeon for Mr. Floyd’s craniotomy. For the most part the helmet did it’s job and absorbed most of the impact, however it still caused a minor brain bleed. We were able to stop the bleed and he’s in recovery right now. He’s a very lucky man” 

Hearing those words brought tears to everyone’s eyes, as Phoenix turned into Hangman for a hug, Rooster and Maverick shared a small smile before Y/N felt a hand squeeze her shoulder, not caring whose hand it was she placed her over it and squeezed back as the surgeon continued “We aren’t allowing visitors right now per hospital visiting hours but since Ms. Y/L/N is Mr. Floyd’s emergency contact you can stay with him till he’s out of the hospital”

“Oh…okay” was all Y/N could muster before she turned to her group. Rooster was the first to pull her into a hug. Followed by Maverick who had been the one to place his hand on her shoulder, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze once more before Phoenix and Y/N shared a tight embrace. 

“Jake and I were thinking of visiting tomorrow, do you want us to stop by your place and bring you anything?” Phoenix mumbled into Y/N’s shoulder.

Nodding as she pulled out of the hug Y/N let out a sigh “My purse… and my phone charger” Natasha nodded before Hangman pulled Y/N into a side hug. 

After bidding her ‘goodbyes’ and ‘good nights’ to the group the surgeon led her down the halls of the hospital.

He paused right outside of a room and turned to Y/N “I didn’t wanna say this in front of your group because there are some things I can only share…. Or at least am advised to only share with immediate family or emergency contact, but the surgery was rough for Mr. Floyd… we had to stop two more brain bleeds before he was fully stable… just so you're aware when you go in, he’s hooked up to a ventilator right now to help regulate his breathing till he wakes up… which brings be to my second point, we don’t know when he’ll wake up” as he spoke Y/N bit the inside of her cheeks trying to stay calm “The anesthesia will wear off in a few hours but after a surgery like his, he will wake up at some point we just don’t know when. Do you understand?”

Y/N nodded “Yes” her voice was quite like it had been before in the waiting area. Turning to the door of the room, he opened it for her. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes as her mind raced once more before she opened her eyes and stepped through the door and into the room. Like the surgeon had said Bob looked rough, as Doctor Tanner had said Bob was hooked up to a ventilator. Part of his head, towards the crown was wrapped, and his face was slightly swollen from the surgery. 

Biting the insides of her cheek once more she moved further into the room, taking a seat in the chair that had been placed at his bedside. As she sat, she felt her body begin to shake once more, trying to steady her breathing she reached her hand out to take Bob’s, her thumb rubbing circled on the back of his.

Doctor Tanner cleared his throat, drawing Y/N’s attention to him once more “If you need anything or if anything happens, press that button” he motioned to a button on the wall beside the monitor that was tracking Bob’s heart rate. 

“Thank you” Y/N gave the man a small smile before he left the room, and she turned her attention back to the man laying in front of her. Letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, tears started to make their way down her cheeks as she let out shaky uneven breaths. 

Bringing Bob’s hand up to her mouth, she lightly kissed it, being mindful of the monitors and IVs in it. She closed her eyes as did, a few tears falling onto the back of his palm before she opened them once more and set his hand back down on the bed. 

“Whoever’s looking out for you Bobby… we should send them a muffin basket” she joked to herself.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself staring at Bob, memorizing the features she thought she knew so well. Yet as she looked she found herself noticing things she hadn’t, by now the swelling had mostly gone down and Y/N’s eyes traced over the details of Bob’s face. How he had a slightly uneven tan on his forehead from where his helmet sat. How the skin by the bridge of his nose had slight bruising around it, presumably from his glassing being squished into his face.

All the little details she thought she knew, like the back of her hand, were now different in some miniscule way. Taking his hand in her’s, Y/N brought his hand to her mouth kissing the back of it as she fought back tears.

“Oh Bobby…” she watched as his chest raised and fell, with the steady beep of the monitor in the background “... I love you so much…. And Phoenix and I are gonna kick your ass if you die….” she chuckled to herself as tears slipped down her cheeks “... Jake and Nat are grabbing stuff for us you know…. Probably feeding the animals too” she yawned, taking a few more minutes to herself to admire Bob’s sleeping form before she rubbed her eyes and leaned over Bob’s bedside, holding Bob’s hand as she fell asleep.

__________________________

The next morning, Phoenix and Jake arrived at the hospital with two bags in hand as they were being led to Bob’s room. Upon arrival they were met with Y/N in a chair that was pulled up to the bedside, she was draped over the bedside holding Bob’s hand. 

Setting the bag she held down next to the bed Natasha looked to Jake, who gave her an encouraging smile as she approached Y/N’s sleeping form. Extending her hand, she placed it on Y/N’s shoulder. “Y/N” she hummed quietly lightly shaking Y/N’s shoulder, after a few minutes she tried again “Y/N” she tried again shaking her shoulder a bit harder. 

“Hmm?” Y/N slowly stirred, pening her eyes she blinked before rubbing at her already irritated eyes before looking to the hand on her shoulder, then to Natasha. “Hi” she said quietly 

“Hi… How’s it going?” Natasha took her hand from Y/N’s shoulder and made her way to pull up another chair next to Y/N

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Jake set his bag down next to the one Natasha had brought in and looked around the room for another chair.

Natasha chuckled as Y/N sat up motioning to a spot at the end of the hospital bed, next to Bob’s feet “Do you want the chair or the bed end?” she shifted in the chair, cracking her back as she did. 

“I’ll take the bed end” he moved to sit on the other side of Y/N. “So back to Natasha’s question” he placed a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

Y/N shrugged “You know… I’m as expected” she motioned to the door “The nurses come in every few hours to check on Bob” she looked back to the man resting in the bed “They’re gonna keep him on the vent till he wakes up… then after they have to see where he’s at after the surgery” she felt Hangman lightly squeeze her shoulder. 

She took Bob’s hand in hers once more “How’s everyone else doing?” 

Natasha shrugged “As expected… The team’s been meeting up at the Hard Deck.. Mav’s been between here and the Hard Deck” 

“I really have to thank him for sending out the updates to everyone, because I just don’t think I could handle that” Y/N sighed.

Looking between Y/N and Bob, Hangman leaned back against the end of the bed “So have you noticed anything? When my family was waiting for my mom to wake up after her surgery, my dad said he would see her twitch… like she was dreaming”

Y/N shook her head moving her eyes off of Bob and to Hangman “I haven’t noticed anything, but it’s only been 4-ish hours since the surgery…. I hope he’s dreaming… dreaming about something good…” Y/N sighed “I don’t know what I’m gonna do” 

To this comment Hangman smirked before he grabbed the bag he had brought and held it out to Y/N “And Nat said you wouldn’t need these” A look of confusion crossed Y/N’s face as she took the bag from Jake. Opening it she was met with three books and a set of colored pencils and the ‘Game of Thrones’ Bob had gotten her for the holidays last year. “I figured you’d need something to keep yourself occupied… I also saw a spare pair of glasses on the book shelf and threw those in there too.”

A smile came to Y/N’s face “Thank you Jake” 

The day turned to night before Y/N was awoken from her sleep by the should of couching.

“Holy shit” She breathed quickly, rising to push the Nuse’s button before she was at Bob’s side taking his hands in her as she tried to stop him from pulling on the tube himself as he continued to cough looking around the room frantically. 

“Bob, Honey” she held his hands at his sides “Bobby. Look at me” her voice was calm yet firm as she moved her hands to grip his “Bobby, breath through your nose” she introduced, watching as Bob did as she said “you had to go under for surgery, okay?” she continued with tears in her eyes, watching as he nodded, understanding “They had to put you on a vent while we were waiting for you to wake up… the nurses are gonna be here in a few minutes to take it out but till then I’m gonna be right here, and you’re gonna breathe through your nose okay?” he nodded again before giving her hands a squeeze.

Like Y/N predicted, the nurses didn’t take long to come in and remove the tube. Once the tube was finally out a nurse helped him take a few sips of water as she talked to Bob, taking down the rest of his vitals.

“Now your vocal cords are going to be swollen for the next few days. So take it very easy with talking” the nurse watched as Bob nodded “you’re gonna be taking up for an MRI and a Cat scan just to make sure everythings okay before Dr. Tanner comes in to talk to you… but that won’t be for a few hours since we’ve got others scheduled ahead of you” the nurse smiled at the two of you, noticing how Bob never let go of your hand, before leaving the room.

Turning to you Bob gave you a light smile before he tapped on the bridge of his nose, wincing slightly as his finger made contact with it.

Nodding in understatement, Y/N let go of his hand briefly to search through the bag that rested at her feet for the spare pair of glasses that Jake had included.

Taking out the blue plastic case, she opened it before unfolding the glasses and slipping them onto Bob’s face. “Better?” she hummed watching as his smile grew, probably from getting to see Y/N better. “I’m glad” she chuckled, bringing her hand up to the side of Bob’s face, holding his cheek. Instinctively he leaned into her touch as her thumb caressed his cheekbone. 

Y/N let her hand linger for a few more moments before she grabbed her phone out of her pocket, before her eyes flickered to Bob “Are you okay if I take a picture to send to everyone?” she watched as he nodded before throwing up a peace sign that was accompanied by a lazy and tired grin for the photo.

Making a group text for the team(and not wanting Maverick to give all the updates) she send the photo before adding

‘Look who’s awake :)’

Sliding her phone back into her pocket, Y/N took Bob’s hand once more and brought it to her lips, kissing his knuckles. “It's like one in the morning… we should both probably get some rest” she suggested and watched as Bob patted the bed. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now” she chuckled “Besides I don’t think we’d both fit” 

Shaking his head, refusing her answer. Bob scooched over on the hospital bed, making room for Y/N before patting once again to the space besides him.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N rose from her seat to join Bob on the bed. Mindful of the monitors he was hooked up to. Y/N relaxed into his side as his arm wrapped around her, as she took in his scent and the weight of his arm along her shoulder. She didn’t notice how he held his breath upon resting the whole weight of his arm against her. 

“Bob?” Y/N raised her brow, feeling his body tense even more. She turned her body and her hand moved to hold his shoulder. 

He felt her free hand reach up to wipe away a few stray tears that had fallen down his cheeks. Feeling her thumb against his cheek a sob racked over Bob’s body as Y/N pulled him closer. Holding him, mindful of herself and his IV and monitors.

“Its okay Bobby” she felt his grip tighten around her “We’re gonna figure this out” she hummed kissing his cheek.

_____________________________

General Taglist: @caswinchester2000

Bob Taglist: @masset-fotia @sparrows-corner @lovemesomeevesey @robertbobfloydlover @zaggprincess @awesome-fandom-princess @luckyladycreator2 @hotpigeon22 @alldaysdreamers @finja-caipirinha @juniebugg @liannisha @earth-to-lottie @winterrebel04 @kidsol-ar @airedale17 @bespinnn @fantasias-creativebubble @feireads @tispykeen @seasonswinter @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @tigerlillyyy @eg-dr3amer3 @revengze @m0chac0ffee @lizbradshaw @blog-name6996 @skylynch03 @ollyoxenfrees @massivedetectivestudent @fantasticcopeaglepasta @txtdreamss @honeyofthegods @alexwinchester23 @cowboybarbie @gretagerwigsmuse @ohh-to-be-a-frog @justthefckinggrainthings-blog @ireadthensuetheauthors @mistressslytherin

[smittenroses]

Hole in Love || human! Montgomery Gator x reader

Merry Christmas, kiss a gator, I've tried to keep this as spoiler free as possible.

not beta read

Also, if you're wanting a visual of how I've written him, here's a link to some fanart I did

update: thanks to Jack over on Archive of Our Own for correcting my use of Sha!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You had never been good at golf, much less mini golf since you had tried it as a child and frankly, after breaking a mechanical obstacle due to one of your swings somehow landing the ball in the engine, you hadn’t even thought of trying again in fear that the same thing would end up happening.

How come you couldn’t give your explanation to the man in front of you when he had asked? Well, how could you let down Montgomery Gator when he was so excited to finally have someone else to play with? When he was excited, his eyes tended to crinkle at the corners, he would shoot a crooked toothy smile and oh goodness how hard was it not to be charmed by his happiness when you had said yes? He rarely got to play his own game with anyone else since families would be playing in their groups, and it wasn’t like his friends wanted to either judging by their hesitance to say no — you knew by their looks that they hated saying no, but watching as Montgomery just nodded and began to drag you towards the golf course, you knew they had their reasons: Roxanne needed to fix some karts before tomorrow since some teenagers had decided to run them into barricades over and over, Freddy needed to go and fix some of the lights in his room since they had gone out, and Chica… well, she was doing something.

It wasn’t like Sun or Moon could even come out of the Daycare either, since they had to clean up a suspicious smell that had begun to come out of the jungle gyms towards closing time and it wasn’t like that was an easy job to find given the sheer size of the room.

That had ended up leaving you, one of the nightguards on rotation that was just there to react to any sort of danger that may be lurking about that the security bots weren’t designed to deal with, in which frankly was a lot, and would mostly leave you free during the night.

The dim lights of the golf course were easy on the eyes compared to the rest of the pizzaplex, the low lit neons casting a green glow onto everything as Monty left you standing in the middle of the entrance, basking in the view as he mentioned needing to collect some stuff to start. You were sure that given he was one of the main stars of the show that the upper management wouldn’t mind if he borrowed some of the items, then again they had begun to cover up the garbage due to finding her with her head halfway in a bin just the week before. What she was looking for was unclear, but the straw that had been sticking out of her mouth when the staff had pulled her out was enough to raise some concern for the star’s health.

Pulling up the cameras on your fazwatch, you scrolled through the cameras for a bit until you landed on Chica’s room in rockstar row, watching as she tuned her guitar for a bit before looking up; she must have noticed the light on the camera was on since she gave you a small wave, you softly doing it back despite knowing that she wouldn’t see it, looking up as you watched Monty shuffle for something inside of a drawer, overhearing him mumble about how they constantly keep changing the position of the scorecards.

“Are you sure you’re not looking in the wrong spot?” You called, Montgomery’s head shooting up to look at you.

“ Alohrs pas! I’m always on their asses about dat. Not my problem if they keep moving them around.” Shuffling your eyes to look at the scorecards next to you, held in a clear container attached to the wall, you pulled two out and called out Montgomery’s name, holding the cards above your head as if they were flags in war. “Well, why don’t ya look at dat.” His cheeks puffed out slightly, the former teased mohawk falling into his eyes slightly as he returned to his full height, basically towering over the desk that he had to crouch at to even look into the drawers.

Taking the bit of paper from your hand, Montgomery spent little time dawdling as he gripped your forearm gently, pulling you over to the first hole, not even needing to look at any of the signs that hung overhead being that this was his territory, this was his domain, and if the vast amounts of water features and alligator-like things strewn about was no indicator, it would be the vast amounts of green which extended to the golf equipment, the handles being in different shades of alligator scales as he handed you a blue one, the matching ball to it being left on the ground by your feet as he prepared his own club, the scratched purple seeming to fit right into his hands as he looked at the courses.

Sure, you have seen him play from a distance, but it was different watching him play in person and up close, how the muscles in his arms rippled slightly as he would position the ball and his club, how they would relax and tense when he got a hole in one — it frankly was something that you swore you could watch all day if you could. The first few holes were easy given that they had minimal obstacles, but that changed soon enough, the scorecards being very far apart in terms of scores. Let us just say… holes in ones were not in your favour. Watching as Montgomery putted another hole in one at hole six, your club clutched tightly in your hand as the man in front of you made it seem like it was easy — to him, it was easy as he has watched hundreds of people play in these courses daily, he would’ve picked up quite a few tips and tricks from others at this point.

“Hon, you ok? You’ve been starin’ for quite a bit.” Those pet names that had made you take out a cajun dictionary the first you heard of them made your heart swell, but blinking your eyes as you looked up at Montgomery, you could see that the gel in his hair had long since loosened, loose curls falling in front of his eyes as he had to stare down at you with his glasses surprisingly sitting on top of his head for once, allowing for you to see the bright reds that you adored with all your heart.

“I was just thinking how I’ll probably have to take a few swings to even get the ball in with the gators in the way,” you didn’t want to admit that you had been staring at him, and sure, while what you said wasn’t exactly a lie, it was a half a truth that made you bite the inside of your lip, gently massaging the flesh between your teeth as you moved around him to place down your ball on the spot, trying to mimic the stance that Monty had been in just before as you felt his eyes on you, watching as you brought the club back and hit the ball.

You could hear your pride getting crushed in your ears as the ball just bounced back towards you, only stopping when it had hit the toe of your shiny leather shoes as you stared down at it; maybe if you glared hard enough at the ball it would want to listen, but that was just in your fantasies, sighing as you used the club and your foot to bring the ball back to its starting position.

Curse you for agreeing to do holes in one.

Aiming to swing again, a warmth engulfed you, the familiar scent of fresh water and some sort of deep forest smelling body spray filling your nose, Montgomery’s hands coming to wrap around yours, his body flushed to yours, chin on top of your head as you felt his breath wash over the top of your head. “Now, if I didn’t give ya some assistance, we’re going to be here until dawn.” he wasn’t wrong, it had taken you several minutes to figure out the right momentum to get a ball over a hill without having it roll back down or flying off into the ball pit, and yet his hold was gentle and firm, moving you gently like a doll as he explained something that fell on deaf ears, your mind going into a frenzy as you could feel his abs pressed up against you, the uniform he tended to wear certainly leaving nothing for the imagination before you saw your ball move, being aware enough to watch as it followed the same path Montgomery’s ball had followed before, the gentle sound of the ball falling into the goal letting you know that you had, in fact, hit a hole in one, and yet your mind was too busy looking at his arms that had yet to leave from around you, feeling him laugh as he congratulated you for finally getting a hole in one first go.

You wanted to stay in his embrace forever. Frankly, you were sure that your little feelings for the man currently holding you were a bit too on the nose for anyone who had been watching on the outside, and not wanting to have your heart give out from how hard it was pounding in your chest, you attempted to move away.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?” He muttered, his hands leaving yours as they travelled up your arms, pressing firmly into your shoulders as he brought you back to him, “I’m not done with you yet.”

Not done? What else could he need you this close for? Feeling him shift against you, he had to bend over in order to place his chin on your shoulder as you craned your head around to look at him; his smile was lazy, his glasses keeping curled locks away from his face as he looked at you through hooded eyes, the green and purple eyeshadow glimmering in the low light as he chuckled.

“So, how’re you enjoying the date?” Date? Was this meant to be a date? Your head began to whirl again, trying to pinpoint the moment he had asked you out on a date, his hands oddly warm against you as he laughed. “Thinking so much of it, sha?”

“No, it’s just…” You began to trip over your words, far too caught off guard to even pull together a sentence as you looked at him, and then as your eyes trailed everywhere, you attempted to find something else to focus on that wasn’t him, “I wasn’t expecting you to say that .”

“I wasn’t expecting you to turn into a blob of jello when I was helping you.” he wasn’t wrong, the way that you had almost melted into his embrace, the way your mind had turned to mush, you were sure that your mind had short-circuited just touching him. Feeling his thumbs rub against your shirt, you felt the rumble of his chuckles against you.

“New rule: whoever has the least amount of swings gets to do whatever they want to the other, yeah?”

Your bets were all in.