#and it took me hours to complete all of those. But ch 1 took me only abt an hour and a half to complete.

[lilac-melody]

Writing angst is such a breath of fresh air for me...

[jules-writes-stories]

I had a couple of asks about WIP Wednesday (including a playlist!) so wanted to post a blurb for Chapter 6. I threw a playlist together really quick. They're songs I listened to while outlining/ made me think of the story, setting, and characters. All vibes. No order or hidden message. This is not my strength, lol. 🖤

The Night Court Lounge | Tribeca, NYC | Ch 1-5 on AO3

Azriel x Eris

Chapter 6 (Excerpt)

Tribeca, NYC

“Lemme guess. Black hoodie?” Akon’s eyes peered back in the rear view mirror. 

Eris saw Azriel’s figure the same time his driver did. Of course he would do something reckless like walk up the island of Manhattan in the early hours of the morning. The pretty man clearly enjoyed stressing him out. 

Eris took a breath. No good would come of acting distraught.

They followed him down a cobbled street to an overpass that crossed over a highway below. Steam rose over manholes. Squares of light from empty, lit office buildings reflected off rain slicked streets. 

The car slowed to drive alongside Azriel. He wore Airpods and his hands were stuffed in his pockets. Eris rolled down his window.

After several seconds, Az turned to look directly at Eris and his eyes grew wide. Something like embarrassment and rejection passed across the man’s face, before it froze into a cool mask of neutrality. He pulled his dark hood up and picked up his pace. 

His beloved bat was growing fangs… 

Akon’s eyes flicked up to meet Eris’s and laughter shined in those dark pools. He needed no directions as he began to drive alongside the petulant pedestrian. 

“Azriel. Will you at least tell me why you stormed off?” Eris called out of the slowly moving vehicle, his voice laced with humor.

Hazel eyes were brazen as they narrowed at Eris. There was the magnificent creature in his submissive. Jealousy made a beast of Azriel. And Eris had the strange impulse to pet the beast, to soothe it. 

Azriel pulled out his earbuds and faced the car. They were stopped on the overpass now. Traffic flashed below like a river of light through the chain link fence behind him. 

Eris could tell the younger man was struggling, was on a precipice. And he considered… In business, it was customary to offer a concession. Eris would give something, and then, perhaps, Azriel, the silly man, would get in the car. 

“Azriel. I can’t fix it, if I don’t know what’s wrong.” Eris tried to keep his voice reasonable. This was him being reasonable. He was being… Yes, reasonable was the word. 

The beautiful man stalked towards the car. “Why did you even follow me? What do you want?” 

Eris felt that prickle of panic, control slipping once more.

Thesan’s words clanged through him.  Be vulnerable with him, or end it… All or nothing.

And the thought of ending it, of not seeing those hazel eyes or that shy smile, the way Azriel’s dark lashes fluttered against his cheekbones when Eris praised him. No. He did not like that idea at all. And panic grew at the thought. 

In fact, if Eris was being completely honest, he wanted to learn more. Who were his favorite artists? When was his birthday? Why did everyone at the Night Court feel the need to protect him and what happened to his hands?

Be reasonable. The last time Eris fell, it had been for Thesan. And it had cost him a year of his life.

What did he want? Right now? 

“I want you to get in my car. And talk to me.” Eris kept his voice level, even as the authority he was accustomed to using slipped through his timbre. He pushed it aside. This was not the bedroom or the boardroom-- this was a highway overpass, and he wanted this man. 

Azriel stepped closer, backpack slung over a shoulder. “You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you, Eris?”  His tone was icey, but there was something soft and needful in his gaze. 

Eris stepped out of his car and leaned against the door. He crossed his arms over his chest. They stared at each other beneath the fuzzy glow of the street lamps. The hum of traffic rattled the overpass. 

“What if I want you?”

Please let me know if you ever want on/off the tag | @the-darkestminds @fieldofdaisiies @mistandmemories @secret-third-thing @chunkypossum @talibunny30 @amalhe-kofee @shadowsandlint @queercontrarian @molcat07 @c-starstuff-man0 @lovely-vanserra-sunshine @hieragalbatorixdottir @brunetterebel010 @pippsmcgee @theartofmischief @born-to-riot

[seraphimcollections]

gentle giant | Konig x medic!reader |

chapter 5

warnings: abduction, non-consenual drugging, language.

summary: little bird is trapped in the cat's jaws with only one way out - into the belly of the beast.

w/c: 2.1

a/n: hello again! I'm really looking forward to this chapter and the next! I wanted to be a little extra care in this chapter. I'll be putting together a master list to pin to my page if that'll be easier. Oh! Do me a solid and reblog if you like this series! Final part coming soon! Thank you!

chapters: | ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 |

The air had changed. With the news of your clear abduction quickly spreading across the base, the reality of both the 141 and KorTac’s failure weighed heavy on each of their shoulders. Soap’s playful demeanor was reduced to silence. Gaz didn’t know what else to do with himself besides try to keep himself busy cleaning his weapons multiple times consecutively. Price holed himself in his office, chain smoking countless of his precious cigars. No one knew where Simon was, but some say they could hear firing out in the yard at odd hours of the night. As for Kӧnig, he hadn’t slept in days. He hadn’t stepped foot out of your office. In the beginning, he couldn’t help his rage, taking it out on his surroundings -- the bookshelves, the files, anything. Quickly, the guilt settled in and he just as quickly began to try to put your office back to how he remembered it was. 

  Konig sat in his same chair, staring at the emptiness in yours’. He sat hunched over, his elbows on his knees, fingers laced together and clenched. He stared into that empty space, the rage still bubbling in his chest. Slowly, the rage began to bleed into anxiety and fear. You’ve been missing for two days. You could be anywhere, a different country, a completely other continent. Anywhere. Konig’s hands became fists in his lap. Millions of questions swirled in his head. Were you hurt? Were you even alive? Who took you, and what did they want with you? And as if the universe heard him, the bearer of answers stopped in the doorframe, not quite daring to enter, just as Konig had done many times. 

Konig’s cyan eyes caught on his stature, the 141’s loyal captain. From sight alone, Konig could see John was having as difficult a time as him, maybe even more so. In his hands held a bottle of whiskey along with two glasses in the other. 

“Mind some company?” John said gruffly. 

Konig sat up a little straighter and shook his head. John sighed, placing the glasses on the desk. He sat on the creaking wood, as if confirming they both knew that the other chair belonged only to you. Handing Konig a glass before taking his own, John took a slow sip. Konig carefully moved the glass under his hood, his lips coming to press against the lukewarm glass. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you,” John finally broke the silence, “but neither have you, Colonel.” 

Konig nearly choked from hearing his formal title. John chuckled, setting his glass down. 

“I-I don’t like to mention my title, it makes people act on false intentions,” Konig explained. 

John waved dismissively, “now need to explain it to me, soldier. We all learn to play our cards close to our chests. Just in this case, I lost more than I looked to gain in the first place.” 

Konig looked at the older man in confusion, “what do you mean, Captain?” 

John’s eyes glazed over, “I never told you why we were here, did I?” 

“No, but I figured you were all on the run,” Konig said. “And that it had something to do with Maus.” 

John’s eyes lit up hearing Konig’s name for you as he took another sip. 

“Wren, she saw something she was never supposed to see,” John frowned. “Something that goes all the way up to the top. Something that lacks all honor that those sods tried their damn best to bury it. But Wren found it, and it dug it all back for them. And so they planned to do what they always do-” 

“They’re going to kill her,” Konig said, dread sinking into every ounce of his being. 

John frowned before finally nodding., “but your comrades seem to think they’ve fulfilled their end of the bargain. They left, off to the next highest payer. You’re the only one who stayed. Which is why I came to you.” 

The two men could ignite wildfires with the heat of their gazes toward each other. 

“Are you with us on this? Will you help us get our bird back?” John said with all seriousness. 

Konig’s eyes narrowed, “you have me, Captain.” 

John nodded, standing on his two feet, “good, we move out at dawn. Get ready.” 

“I’m always ready, Captain.” 

“I will see you soon, kleine maus.” 

↭

  The ringing in your ears refused to cease. Your eyelids feel heavy, most likely swollen. Your entire body ached, your wrists and ankles bound tightly together, the zipties digging into your open skin. You laid on your side, your head limply laying on what felt like leather. You tried your best to tune your ears to what was around you. You wiggled trying to find something that could tell you where you were. Your throat felt so dry that even if you tried to speak you worried it would crack and bleed. You groaned, forcing your eyes to open to blinding sunlight. You were in a car, that much made sense. You laid on the back seat, the leather seats sticking to your clammy skin. 

You squint your eyes to see the dusty blonde head of hair over the driver’s seat. You blinked in confusion, trying to piece together how you got here in the back seat of this mystery car driven by a complete stranger. Your memory came back to you like an unwelcome friend. You remember the struggle, the bruise you were sure going to get from being thrown back onto the desk. The sickly sweet smell of whatever chemical your abductor used to put you under. The back of Konig’s head as he left to see what Price wanted. 

Rage burst into you heart as you tried your best to pull against your restraints, only to find yourself weak. 

“It’s useless,” the man you thought you knew as Richards said  in an annoying sing-song voice. “The drug won’t wear off for another few hours. Don’t waste what little energy you have, sweetheart.” 

You glared up at the rear view mirror, finding the man’s eyes peering back at you with amusement. 

“Who are you? Where are you taking me?” You growl. 

“We’re going back to my place,” he smiled as if saying this to his date, “then you’re going to tell me everything you know, and then, I’ll kill you.” 

You felt your blood run cold at his words. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Shepherd sent you.” 

“Ah! There’s that sharp cunningness Shepherd told me all about!” 

You glared at the man with a stare of thousand daggers. This gaze did little to faze your abductor as his smile never left his smug face. 

“Why not just kill me? Save yourself the trouble,” you said. 

“Ah, where would the fun be in that!” The man said, sounding like he was going on a day out at a theme park and not like a man who was your executioner. 

“No, I intend on taking my time with you,” he said, his gaze connecting with your own, letting you see the true darkness in his eyes. 

You fell silent, instead trying to look outside to try to get a clue on where you were, or how far you could be from base. From Konig. You could feel your stomach drop as the tall Austrian popped into your mind. Did he know you were gone? Was he even looking for you? In the end, he was part of KorTac, a company not renowned for loyalty to one agency. But…Konig was different. He was caring, empathetic and kind. If the two of you had enough time, you could find out why such a quiet soul could be in such a messy business. But then again, so were you. 

“You won’t get far,” you said with a huff. “You have no idea who’s coming for you.” 

“Correction: I know exactly who's coming for me, little bird,” Richards said. “And I’m counting on it.”

You brow furrowed at his words, making him snicker, “you really think Shephard would just let their insubordination go? Come on, you can’t be that naive!”

“Shut up-”

“You know, I should really thank you, not only do I get to take out the 141, but now KorTac’s finest? Ugh, it’s like Christmas morning,” Richards sighed. 

You lurch forward in a rage, “you leave Konig out of this!” 

“Oh, like you did?” Richards cocked a brow. “If my memory serves me right, it was because of you that KorTac even got dragged into this mess. And it will be because of you that your beloved Konig will die.”

You felt your chest begin to tighten in panic as the thought of everyone you ever loved, ever cared about being reduced to nothing but cold flesh all in your name. You begin to struggle against your restraints, pulling at them wildly. 

“Ah, doctor?” Richards said. 

You look up at the man and in a split second you catch the small almost travel size bottle in his large hand before Richard squeezed the little trigger. You recoiled back but to no avail, the mysterious potion infiltrated and coating your throat. You cough violently, your vision beginning to swim. 

“Trust me, it would be best if you sit this part out. Easier for both of us,” Richard smirked. “Sweet dreams, little bird.”

You fell onto you back with a groan, eyes rolling back up to the roof of the car. You fought to keep your eyes open but only to be swallowed back into the darkness. 

↭

73. 

73 hours since you’ve been abducted. As each hour passed, your trail got colder and Konig became more restless. This was clear with his foul attitude that no one could dare miss. What was left of the men on the base sat around a makeshift table with schematics scattered across it. Konig stood hunched over, his palms supporting his weight on the table. Price stood at the head of the table, Ghost to his right, Gaz to his left. Soap had tried his best to try to keep Konig cool so he stayed a safe but supportive distance close to Konig. 

“What you know is that Shephard all but lost most of his clean contacts to DC, so there’s a good chance he won’t be able to smuggle her into the States,” Gaz said with arms crossed. 

“That doesn’t completely squash the possibility,” said Ghost. 

“But would he even go through the trouble? I mean if he’s already got what he wants. Why drag it out?” Gaz said. 

“You’re right, if he was smart, she’s long dead,” Ghost said matter of factly. 

The wood of the table creaked under Konig’s fist at the mention of the idea. Soap leaned over. 

“That’s not going to happen, because we’re gonna get to the fucker first,” Soap said. 

Price agreed, “Soap is right. If there’s one thing I know about that snake is that he likes to play with his food. He won’t just kill her quickly.” 

“That doesn’t make it better,” Konig said, finally standing to his full height, effectively dwarfing the rest of the men. “There must be some sort of lead of where she could have been taken.” 

“He’ll want to take care of this quietly and under the radar,” Gaz said.

“Slimy bastard won’t even come to do it himself most likely,” Ghost scoffed. “Won’t want to get his hands dirty, ‘why he sent that fucker.” 

“And we know he’s petty-” 

“That much is clear,” Soap rolled his eyes. “The bellhead chased across half of fucking Europe.” 

“So he’ll take her to a place that holds some kind of memory, maybe?” Gaz shrugged. 

Price’s eyes shot wide with realization, “Las Almas.” 

These words caught 141's attention. 

“Would he really be that obvious?” Soap said. 

“Or stupid,” Ghost chimed in. 

“But that’s exactly wants,” Price said, “he’ll want to take this back to ground zero: Las Almas.” 

“What’s in Las Almas?” Konig asked. 

“It’s where we first found out how dirty Shepherd liked to play,” Soap grunted. “Evidently he slipped out of our hands, until Wren found data suggesting his whereabouts and what’s been keeping the sorry fucker busy. Guess he didn’t want anyone poking around in his business again.” 

“And you think he’s taken Maus there?” Konig said. 

“It’s our only lead,” Price sighed, hands gripping his vest. 

Konig sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly before nodding his head, “then we shall go.” 

“And luckily for us, we have friends on the other side,” Ghost smirked underneath his mask. 

“Los Fuerzas Especiales,” Soap smirked looking up at Konig, “Mexican Special Forces. They owe us a bit of a favor.” 

Konig looked back to Price who almost looked at him as if to give him the word. Konig stoney gaze didn’t waver.

“No more waiting. We leave tonight.”

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[thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed]

One of Your Kind (Ch. 10)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10

Word count: 4.4K

Warnings: blood, serious injuries

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

———

“Jen, there was a terrible huge car accident, a few victims, some are in really bad condition. I need to get to the hospital and help in the ER. I’ll see you at home.” These were the words her mother told her before Jenna was left alone at the premiere, with her friends and crew, who will take her home later that night.

disbelief and fear filled your mind as you laid on your back, sandwiched between the cold, soft dirt and the hot, slick metal of the car. The weight of the car pressed down on your full body with monster force. It did not hurt, your body was numb. All you could feel was the car hood's mass stamping your body further and further into the ground. Your lungs felt pinched shut and air would neither enter nor escape them. Your mind was buzzing. What had just happened? In the distance, on that cursed road, you saw cars driving by completely unaware of what happened, how you felt. You tried to yell but your voice was unheard. All you could do was wait. Wait for someone to help you or wait to die.

Meanwhile, Natalie had been called on the scene instead of the ER, she didn’t know why but when nurses and doctors were called on the scene it meant that it was really, really bad. And it definitely was. A truck had ran a red light, just out of town, pushing another car down the hill. The car rolled and rolled, until it came to a stop when it hit a tree. Another car was involved too, smashing against a wall, everyone inside of it was dead. As soon as. Natalie arrived and saw the scene, she wished she never did see that. The people in the car smashed against the wall were reduced to blood and crashed bones, she never saw something so bad. Then she walked over to the firemen, who were going down the hill with a rope to the car that had rolled down. “What do we have here?” Natalie asked. “Female, 20 to 25 years old. She’s unconscious and unresponsive, her body’s stuck between pieces of the car and we can’t get her out. The driver’s dead, but we have hope for the girl. We’ll tie a rope around you and help you down so you can take her vitals”

Natalie nodded and looked down at the car for the first time. It was a black, car with dark tinted windows… she knew that kind of car. It was one of those cars for famous people, and tonight the only car like that that left the awards sooner was your car. Natalie started going down the hill thinking, ‘please let it not be her, please’ she silently prayed, she hated the thought of you being in this conditions. As soon as she took a look in the car she saw that it was you. Covered in blood and bruises, but it was you. Her heartbeat faltered for a moment at the thought of you getting seriously hurt or even dying. However she couldn’t reach you from outside the car, so she had to slide inside through the car window. “(Y/N)? Honey can you hear me?” Natalie said, reaching her hand onto your neck looking for a pulse. You were bleeding from your head continuously, your whole face covered in it. “I’ve got a pulse! Let’s get her out of this car!” Natalie yelled, trying to get the firemen’s attentions.

“(Y/N) I need you to answer to me sweetheart” Natalie tried, managing to move a hand to your face as she opened your eye, moving a flashlight in front of your eyes. “Her Pupils are dilated, you need to move now!” Natalie insisted, watching as you slowly became paler. “You can’t leave us honey. We need you, you have a bright future ahead of you” she basically begged, talking to you, still unconscious and bleeding. She tried to get a look at your lower body, but it was basically crushed from the chest down and she couldn’t see it. She just has to wait till they get you out, which was a couple hours later. She kept checking on your pulse which was getting fainter with each minute that passed but soon enough you were out of the car and laying on a stretcher. You had a broken vertebra, a few broken ribs and your pelvis was almost completely shattered. When your heartbeat had been stabilized you were immediately being rushed to the hospital, Natalie in the ambulance with you as she decided it was finally time to text her daughter a ‘honey, please get to the hospital. It’s urgent’

It wasn’t long before the brunette was driving from the awards to the hospital, where she paced nervously around the waiting room. It was almost three in the morning so the room was empty. “Darling?” Her mother finally called and Jenna walked over, holding her dress up as not to trip. “Mom what’s wrong? Is everyone okay? Is everyone safe Home?” Jenna asked precipitously, her mother placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Yes darling, everyone’s safe at home. They’re all probably sleeping right now” Natalie replied with a small sad smile “then why did I have to come here urgently?” Natalie sighed and looked down. “I can’t put it into words, You have to see it yourself…” she replied and Jenna gulped, she felt her heart speed up “you’re making me worried” Jenna said and followed her mother into the corridor of the ICU, it was extremely quiet, the only noise being the beeping monitors and the breathing machines, and the occasional chatters of the doctors.

Eventually they reached a room, the window was covered by the drapes to have some privacy, and some slow beeping could be heard coming from inside. “Wait, before we get inside” Natalie said, stopping Jenna before she could open the door. “You’re not going to like what you’ll see… she’s stable for now, but until she wakes up we won’t know if she has brain damage-“ Natalie was about to continue, but Jenna interrupted her. “Who’s she?” Jenna asked, visibly confused. Natalie sighed and opened the door to your room. You laid there unconscious, a neck collar around you and multiple machines attached to you. You had multiple cuts on your face, multiple bandages on your body from the surgeries you had to endure. Jenna was at loss for words, she had seen multiple scenarios like this one, but seeing you in these conditions was doing her no good. “W-what happened?” She said walking in the room, next to your bed as she took a look at you. The distressed look on your face was something that will definitely haunt her dreams, she just wished it was a horrible nightmare and that she’d wake up and you’d be fine.

“Remember when I told you that I got called in for a car crash? I went to the scene, she’s the only survivor. She was stuck under the car, her head was bleeding, she has a broken vertebra, a few broken ribs… her pelvis was almost completely shattered. The surgeons don’t know if she’ll ever be able to walk again…” Jenna shook her head, tears began flooding her eyes “no that can’t be true, there has to be some sort of m-mistake” she said, trying not to give in to the tears. She leaned over to you, moving some hair out of your face as she gently caressed your cheeks. She was barely touching you, afraid she’ll hurt you. “(Y/N) you ha-have to wake up” she said and looked at you, she just wanted to see her reflection in your eyes “wake up!” She insisted and gave in to the tears, trying to get to to wake up. Natalie was about to cry too, but she went to hug her daughter to give her the comfort she needed “I c-can’t lose her m-mom” she sobbed out, hiding her face in her mother’s chest. “I know baby I know” she said, hugging her sobbing daughter.

She had seen her distressed before, but never like this, which confirmed her that even after pushing you away, Jenna still cared deeply about you, she still loved you. “I promise you we’ll do whatever we can to make sure she’ll recover perfectly.” Jenna nodded quickly, still hiding her face in her mom’s chest. “It’ll be a long way before she fully recovers and she’ll need us. She’ll need you and even if she’ll try pushing you away you have to stay for her” Jenna nodded again and soon enough she was back to looking at you, sitting down on the chair next to your bed. She was still in her dress from the award, but she didn’t want to leave knowing you were in so much pain. Jenna didn’t plan on leaving and as a matter of fact she stayed there at the hospital the whole night, just watching over you and waiting for you to be alright.

The next morning you seemed to have stabilized a bit, your heartbeat was steady and even if you were attached to a monitor, Jenna kept checking on your pulse the whole night, she didn’t even sleep. when her mother came to check in on you she brought Jenna some food which she gladly took, without taking her eyes off of you. “We have to do something you might not like” Natalie started, making Jenna look up at her. “We need to lower her morphine down until she wakes up. She’ll be in a lot of pain, but we need to check if there’s any brain damage… is this okay with you?” Natalie asked, which made Jenna look at her in confusion. “I thought you knew. (Y/N) has you as her emergency contact and you’re listed to be the one to take decisions for her in case she can’t… like now” Jenna sighed, she felt this huge responsibility on her right now, but she couldn’t stand down. She needed you to be alright. “Will it help you and the doctors get her better?” She asked and Natalie nodded. Then Jenna gave consent and doctors started lowering your morphine.

Jenna was watching you intently, waiting for any reaction from you. Natalie was standing next to you, with her flashlight ready to examine you the moment you woke up. When you did you immediately felt incredible pain on your whole body, your eyes shot open and you felt like you couldn’t breathe if it wasn’t for the tube in your mouth, that was so bothering and hurting you so much. “(Y/N), honey you need to calm down” her voice was like an echo, you felt dizzy and disoriented, your eyes were looking around frenetically in search for someone that you recognized, until you saw Natalie and you started taking deep breaths. “Do you know where you are?” You nodded slightly at her question, tears leaving your eyes from the immense pain. “Do you know who I am?” You nodded again. She then proceeded to have you follow her finger and look at the light. She sighed of relief when she saw you were alright and you didn’t have any brain damages “I’m gonna put you back to sleep right now-“ she said but you interrupted her, grasping her shirt, looking at her with fear. You were scared and you didn’t want to be alone.

You were completely unaware of the fact that Jenna was there too, as she had left the room the moment she heard you whimper in pain. It was too bad of a sight for her. Natalie took ahold of your hand and squeezed it reassuringly “you’ll be okay sweetheart. I’m here, you’re not alone okay?” You slightly nodded, still whimpering from the pain. You wanted to ask if Jenna was there, but you couldn’t ask that with only your eyes available. “I’m going to set the morphine level high again okay?” She got up and moved to where the morphine was, but you stopped her with a louder whimper and only looked at her, hoping she’d understand what you wanted only looking at you in the eyes. You looked at the door, hoping she’d understand. Fortunately for you she did. “Jenna’s here. Don’t worry darling she’s here and she won’t leave your side.” You nodded again and finally she raised the morphine level until you were asleep again.

Natalie left the room and saw her daughter sitting down on the floor against the wall. When she saw her mother she stood up. “Are you finished? Is she alright?” Jenna asked, wiping her tears. “No brain damage fortunately. We’re going to wait a couple days for her conditions to improve and then we’ll take her off the morphine” Jenna nodded and sighed of relief “mom?” Jenna asked when she saw her mother starting to leave “is any of this my fault? Is it my fault that she’s…-“ she was about to start crying again, luckily her mother noticed and hugged her tightly. “No baby it is not your fault. I promise you” she said and kissed her daughter’s forehead, trying to reassure her. “If I never hurt her, she wouldn’t have been so traumatized whenever she saw me, she wouldn’t have left the premiere early because of me, she wouldn’t be in that fucking bed” she pointed out and sobbed, once again sniffling in her mother’s chest.

“I know you and her have been talking before the awards. I knew she had been at our place because I could smell her scent in the living room, I knew that I had hurt her yet I never apologized. I never tried winning her beck, I just let her suffer. I knew she was suffering and I did nothing about it. I knew she was depressed because of me and I did nothing about it. Now she’s in that bed and partly it’s because of me and it hurts so bad mom, it hurts so bad” Natalie only tightened the hug and kissed her daughter’s head “the least you can do now is be by her side until she recovers. She needs us and she needs you particularly so don’t let go of her”

‘Famous actress (Y/N)(L/N) was involved in a terrible car crash. She was the only survivor but we don’t know anything about her conditions yet.’ This how the most recent article begun, you were all over the news. It was almost everyday that paparazzi wanted to get into the hospital to snap a picture of you, but Natalie always told them off and made sure you were left alone, or alone with Jenna, even if you weren’t awake yet. Fortunately, you did wake up after a week, your body was still weak, but you had recovered some energies and could breathe on your own. When you woke up there was no one in your room. The tube in your Mouth almost suffocating you as you coughed. You pressed the medical assistance button on the side of your bed and within seconds Natalie was there and took your tubes out, allowing you to breathe on your own. She passed you some water and you drank a little because your throat was dry, and then Natalie sat down on your bed and caressed your cheeks.

“You gave us a big scare honey” she started, sighing of relief as you leaned in to the familiar touch. “I’m sorry” you said, voice hoarse and you looked at her. “W-what happened to me? I mean- what did I break?” You asked, you didn’t want to talk about the accident. You just wanted to know what bones you have broken. “You have a broken vertebra and a few broken ribs… those healed already but you still need to wear a collar” you nodded at her words and then watched her take a deep breath. “Honey, your lower half was completely under the car. Your pelvis was almost completely shattered. The surgeons fixed it but your nerves and tendons were severely damaged. There’s a high chance you might never… you might never walk again” you felt your heart skip a beat at that. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream but you knew you had to stay calm. “But there’s- there must be some kind of therapy right??” The feeling of not being able to walk again Made you sick to your stomach, if you never recovered your career would be over.

“Yes there are some therapies. We will definitely put you on the list but if your nerves are completely damaged it’ll be useless, you get that right?” You were about to reply, but the door opened that same moment. “Mom is she alright? I was told someone requested medical assistance here…” she was to continue, but then saw you were awake. Jenna thought about this moment for the past week, but now that you were awake she didn’t know how to act, what to tell you. “I’ll leave you girls alone” Natalie said and stood up, leaving the room as you were left alone with Jenna. Both of you didn’t know what to say, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. “(Y/N) I’m sorry-“ you were quickly to interrupt her. “Don’t…” you looked at her briefly, before looking away. “Just… hug me?” You pleaded, she wasn’t expecting this. “Are you sure?” She asked and looked at you, with tears in her eyes. “Yes, please just give me a hug” Jenna didn’t want to be told twice, so she leaned in and wrapped her arms around your torso, careful not to hurt you but you were the one to tighten the hug, sobbing into her shoulder. You had been wanting her hug for a lot now, and you couldn’t help but break down when you were finally in her arms again.

A couple tears left Jenna’s eyes as well, she rubbed your back and tried to comfort you while apologizing multiple times. There wasn’t an excuse for how she treated you, but she knew she wanted to make it up to you. “I was so s-scared” you sobbed out, in this moment you didn’t care if she hurt you a lot, you needed her, you needed her presence, you needed her comfort and luckily she was there to give it to you. “You’re okay now… you’ll be okay” she said and only hugged you tighter. “Please don’t leave again” you begged and gripped her shirt, keeping her close to you “I don’t want to be alone” you said and sniffled, then you felt Jenna caress the back of your head. “I won’t leave you again… I promise” she whispered and kissed your cheek before pulling back from the hug and sitting down on the bed’s edge, looking at you with a small smile “It’s good seeing you awake… we were really worried for you” she said and looked at you with a small, sad smile.

“(Y/N), I’m really sorry for how I treated you-“ you sighed and shook your head “Jen I don’t want to hear it-“ she interrupted you “no, I need to say this, please” you were hesitant, but you ended up nodding at her words and listening to her “I never meant a word of what I said. I become irrational and I don’t think before speaking, but really I never meant any of that” she said, talking about the day you broke up because she told you she didn’t need you anymore. “Why did you never apologize then?” You asked her and saw how she went silent. “If you never meant that, why did you never apologize to me?” She looked down “I didn’t feel worthy of that. I felt like you deserved someone better then me” you shook your head, at least she was being honest with you. “Jen… no one will ever be as good as you. You’re what’s best for me…” you said. “But…” she continued “but you betrayed my trust. You didn’t support me, you never asked me how I was doing. Not once did you let me talk about myself, I felt shut out. I wasn’t able to talk about what made me happy because you didn’t want to hear it, you were always focused on work and you made me feel like my presence was useless. And when you told me that you were happy without me, I felt my heart break. You confirmed my thoughts, that my presence was useless”

“I’m so sorry for making you feel that way, please, please forgive me” Jenna begged, taking a hold of your hand and squeezing it “I want you in my life, that’s for sure” you said and looked at her. “But it’ll take me a lot if time to trust you again, and I don’t know if we will ever be a couple again” you said and she nodded “let’s just give it time” you said, trying to reassure her as you pulled her in for another hug. You were too good of a person to push her away completely, but for Jenna this was good too. She’d do anything to be with you in any kind of way. Weeks passed, you were still at the hospital and Jenna was coming to visit you every day. She had deleted all of her meetings that needed her outside of town, because she needed to be close to you. She even postponed filming up until she knew you would be out of the hospital.

Eventually it was time for you to try and walk. You were scared, really scared, because if you couldn’t walk, then yes, your career as an actress will definitely be over. Doctors helped put you on a wheelchair and took you to the hospital’s small gym, Jenna and Natalie were there too as you were really anxious and needed calming down. The doctors helped you stand up, one of the doctors standing in front of you to hold you in case you ever fell as you held yourself up on the bars, too scared to even take one step. your legs were shaking and you were in so much pain, but you didn’t know if it was psychological. “I c- I can’t” you shook your head, tears in your eyes as you sat back down on the wheelchair, to scared to walk. “Yes you can” Jenna started, making her way over to you as she cupped your face. “You’re doing great (Y/N)” she said and caressed your cheeks with her thumbs “you managed to stand up and that alone is great. If you manage to take a few steps then you won’t have to walk anymore today. Just… do it for yourself, for your career and for the people that love you”

You were still scared as hell, but you knew you couldn’t give up. “I’ll hold your hand if you want me to” Jenna said and you nodded, standing up slowly you took her hand in your own, squeezing it tightly as you took a few steps. Your pelvis and legs hurt a lot, you took about 10 steps before you couldn’t handle the pain anymore and asked to be brought to your room. You saw doctors talk about your conditions and suggest treatments and surgeries to make you feel less pain, you’ll eventually have to choose within them. Days passed and as you kept on trying to walk and constantly failing, you told Jenna that she didn’t have to come watch you trying to walk, as she didn’t deserve to see you in pain. Truth is, you wanted to surprise her eventually. You were close with her again, sure you weren’t a couple but you acted the same you used to before you got together the first time. Today you were sitting up on your hospital bed, scrolling on instagram when Jenna arrived “hey! How are you today?” She asked you and sat down on your bed. You put your phone away and looked at her.

“I’m a bit better. Still can’t really walk but, you know” you shrugged, lying. She didn’t know that you were actually getting better and you could almost walk on your own, you were just waiting for the perfect time to surprise her. “I have the Scream VI premiere in new york next week, I wanted you to come with me but if you can’t walk, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” here it is, this is the perfect occasion. You’d buy tickets for new york and surprise her at the premiere “I’ll be watching from here” you said and smiled at her, but mostly at yourself for the idea you just had. Of course you told everything to Natalie as well, and she talked with the doctors who allowed you to leave the hospital to go attend the premiere. It would be your first time in public after the accident and you were really nervous only at the idea of having to take a car to get to the airport.

You nearly had a panic attack when in the car, but you calmed down once you reached the airport. Luckily there weren’t any paparazzi so you were pretty sure that no one would spoil Jenna the surprise and it was great. Once in new york you had your stylists and make up artists helped you choose a look for the night that was to come and you went for something simple, as you had to use crutches while walking you couldn’t wear something that could make you trip and fall, so you wore a short dress with a jacket, and headed to the premiere, once again panicking when in the car. When your car pulled up, basically everyone was confused, all the actors had arrived so no one knew who had just arrived. That was until you got out of the car. Jenna was busy in an interview so she didn’t see you but the other actors did. You already knew them and they were glad to see you were doing great after the accident, and paparazzi were snapping pictures of you as you explained the actors what you were doing there.

When Jenna was finished with the interviews and she went to the other actors she saw you, standing there. “(Y/N)? Oh my god you’re walking!?” She walked over and hugged you tightly. “You lied to me!” She giggled and gently nudged your side “I wanted to surprise you. I still have to use the crutches but I can walk on my own” you said and she only tightened the hug. You moved your weigh on one leg and hugged her back. “You’re such an idiot” she said and pulled back, taking a hold of your hand

“yeah but I’m your favorite idiot”

A/N: wrote this chapter while sick with a temperature over 100 so this is not the best but I hope you still like it!

Tags: @idkjustliving2 @tundra1029 @engenelxver @rainbow-love4ever @gimaximoff @wol-fica @lum13 @eviekensington @i984 @otherstainedrose @rockwyn @thekid4466 @myfturn

[lillaluna]

just game ch.2

Pairing: Scaramouche x Xiao x f!Reader

Tags: unspecified relationship, modern au

just game ch.1

It's been 24 hours since that night. And you can say that since that evening you have lost your peace. The thoughts were chasing you, and their essence was how to behave with your friends now? Is it worth discussing all this or pretending that nothing happened?

It was early Saturday morning, and you were jogging on the treadmill, completely lost in your inner thoughts. You missed the lectures on Friday, you just couldn't bring yourself to go and look at Scaramouche and Xiao's faces, but then there was the fact that neither of them tried to contact you. It literally resonated with your past relationships, where you should have been a few minutes late, as you immediately received calls or messages on your phone asking where you had disappeared. But not now…

You were getting more and more worried about the fact that you decided to do that thing at all. Yes, at first it seemed funny to excite these two jerks, but how could you know that everything would turn into a threesome? But it made you cringe even more that you liked it.

There was music playing in your headphones. Loud enough to drown out the sounds of other gym equipment in the gym, but quiet enough that you could hear the sounds of the treadmill you were practicing on. Suddenly, a cold palm touched your hand, which startled you and almost tripped over your own feet, losing the rhythm, but having oriented yourself in time, you stood on the sides of the device.

Turning your head, you saw Clorinde, with whom you have been quite close friends since the first year. The dark-haired girl was looking at you with raised eyebrows in a silent question, her face expressing irritation rather than concern.

"Well, what do you mean…" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You pursed your lips and reached out with your hand to slow down the pace of the tape you've been running on for the last half hour.

"I wasn't feeling well," You replied dryly, continuing to walk around the simulator and looking away from the window in front of you.

"Leave it for those who don't know you. Didn't you feel well? How so. You haven't missed Kamisato's lectures in three years, and now, my dear, it's half past seven in the morning. Too cheerful for the one who was "not well."

Clorinde was very perceptive, a person with cold logic when the situation demanded it, and unfortunately for you, she was great at reading people, well, you in particular.

You took the headphones out of your ears, getting back on the side of the treadmill.

"I couldn't come to the lectures on Friday, okay? Were… circumstances."

"Which ones?" Your friend was asking without taking her piercing gaze off you. "I literally lost you on Thursday night. On Friday, you didn't show up for lessons, didn't answer my calls, didn't open the door for me, and apparently you're going to continue in the same spirit! What the fuck?"

"It just so happened…" you muttered, starting to frantically poke your fingers at the screen of the device under you, trying to stop it. The pressure made you mad, which made you unable to pull yourself together. The simulator beeped plaintively and you exhaled noisily. Clorinde leaned over the support to quickly press the right key to stop the tape and immediately turned to you.

"To the locker room. Quickly!"

You moaned, closing your eyes, as the girl dragged you by the hand towards the room with clothes. Clorinde checked all the passages leading to the drawers with personal belongings to make sure that you were alone in the room and leaned on the nearest cells and looked at you defiantly. You sat down on a bench and tilted your head to the ceiling. You weren't afraid of being judged by her, but what's the right way to tell a friend that you had a gangbang with your best friends?

In general, the girl standing next to you had quite free views in terms of intimate relationships. She was interested in both girls and boys. There were even rumors on campus that she had once seduced French professor Neuvillette.

Clorinde cleared her throat loudly and ostentatiously, still waiting. You made a long sound and lowered your head and covered your face with your hands.

"I slept with Xiao," You mumbled into your palms.

"I'm sorry?" the girl spoke stupidly. "My hearing seems to be failing me today."

"And with Skara. With both of them, on Thursday."

"Oh," was all that came out of Clorinde's mouth as she furrowed her brows, clearly digesting the information. The girl let the air out of her mouth and took a few steps towards you, sitting down next to you and crossing her legs, leaning her elbow on her knee and propping her face with her palm. You looked at her, looking for a clue in her facial expressions what she was going to say now.

"And how is it?" Clorinde gave out, her face changing in a second. Her eyes were slyly narrowed, and a sly smile played on her lips.

"What?" you exhaled literally on the move, wondering if you should be happy with her reaction or if she has not yet understood the meaning of your words.

"Whose penis is bigger?" The brunette repeated cheerfully with a serious look, as if you hadn't just said that you fucked two of your friends.

"You… I…" you began to stutter, looking at your friend dumbfounded, "Did you listen to me at all, are you damn confused by the fact that I participated in a threesome?"

"And you?" Clorinde just asked, shrugging her shoulders. "Listen, baby, I've thought over all the worst-case scenarios from where you just threw up all night to where you got hit by a car. And you just had a good fuck, and now you're biting yourself because of it? Are you worried about the very fact of what happened or who it happened to? But I hasten to reassure you about one thing, if they cum, they definitely liked it."

"Clorinde…" you moaned, covering your face with your hands again. "I can't pull myself together. Neither Skara, nor Xiao, nor any of them got in touch. Not yesterday, not today. I… what if they hate me now? Suddenly they think I'm a whore or something…" You looked pleadingly at the girl next to you, but she just snorted and waved it away.

"You think too much. They're probably lying there in a euphoric coma, still twitching at the memories."

You tried to give a semblance of a smile. Clorinde got up from the bench and held out her hand to you.

"Come on, let's go have a good workout, since we're here. And in the evening… We'll go to a bar where we'll get really drunk."

You put your hand in the girl's hand. In the end, now you've shared your feelings with someone and the best thing is that you haven't been judged.

…

It was eight o'clock at night when you were standing in your room in front of the mirror. Music was quietly pouring out of the speakers, something from the Stray Kids repertoire, but you were still immersed in your thoughts without dwelling on the melody. It seemed to you more and more that Clorinde was right, and it was only the guys' problems that they still hadn't shown up, because you were satisfied with what happened, even if it went beyond someone's normality.

You were tracing your lips with your favorite pencil when you heard the sound of a message coming to your phone, which was lying on the table. After examining yourself in the reflection one last time, you nodded contentedly to your double in the glass. You were wearing a white off-the-shoulder top with a pattern of red hearts, and blue bell-bottomed jeans with a high rise accentuated your waist. You walked over to the table, picking up the red pumps in your hands on the way. Unlocking your phone with a face-id you held your breath at the message that popped up there.

Xiao: We need to talk. Open up, I'm outside the door.

The heat immediately rose to your cheeks, and the lump in your throat still didn't want to push down. All your confidence, which Clorinde had been working so hard to revive all day, was falling apart like a house of cards in the wind. On the other hand, wasn't that what you wanted?

Putting the phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you closed the laptop and walked to the door. Removing the white bag from the buttonhole, you confidently took hold of the door handle, and releasing a convulsive sigh, opened it.

Xiao was standing with his back to you and when he heard the noise, he turned around. The gloomy expression on his face was immediately replaced by surprise at the sight of you.

"Going somewhere?"

"Uh…Yes." You said putting the shoes on the floor and then putting them on.

The guy was looking down at you with a vague expression on his face. You could tell that he was confused, but on the other hand, his gaze was soft, but the furrowed brows said that he was thinking about something carefully.

"Clorinde and I are going to the bar "Sounds like a plan." Itto will be there and I think Kaveh from architecture was supposed to be there. We thought we'd hang out a little." You turned your back on the guy, closing the door and out of the corner of your ear hearing him shifting from one foot to the other. Putting the keys in your purse, you turned around, carefully avoiding looking into his eyes. There was definitely an awkwardness between you. No one understood how to proceed. Xiao ran one hand through the hair at the back of his neck, making either a mumble or a sigh.

You hugged yourself by the shoulders, staring at his black Nikes, then followed Xiao's black jeans with your eyes, not stopping much higher on the white T-shirt, over which was draped a haori with dragon patterns. You glanced fearfully at his lips and you had a sharp flashback on the very night when those same lips were biting your nipples.

You shook your head, pushing away the lewd scenes, not daring to look into his eyes. Deciding that it was stupid to stand in the hallway like that, you silently turned around and walked towards the exit, slowly, making it clear that Xiao could join you. That's how, in embarrassment and confusion, you went out onto the flight of stairs. Neither of you said a word, and it was probably the longest silence between you since you've known each other since high school.

You were about to go down to the floor below when the guy grabbed your wrist and stopped you. Without expecting it, you felt a heat run through your body, settling somewhere in your stomach. His touch burned, it wasn't gentle or careful, on the contrary, he held you tightly.

"Wait. I still want to talk."

You squeezed your eyes shut and pursed your lips, but turning to the guy, you tried to give yourself an appearance of forced calm and even smile awkwardly. Of course, you suspected what was going to be discussed, and how wrong you were, thinking all this time that you were ready for this conversation at all. The heart in your chest was pounding treacherously against your rib cage and you could have sworn that Xiao could hear it.

"What happened…" the guy began, "…I…I'm…I'm sorry."

Your eyebrows crept upwards in surprise. That was definitely not what you wanted or planned to hear. Yeah, maybe some portion of your ego had just been destroyed.

"Okay…" You said emotionlessly, turning towards the stairs again, but Xiao pulled you back again, still not letting go of your wrist.

"Oh, come on, wait a minute. I… I felt so guilty the next day. I just couldn't even imagine the look in your eyes when we pulled that…"

"Hey, hey." You stopped that stream of words. "What are you talking about? Basically, I'm the one who pushed you down this path. Yes, a gangbang wasn't a necessary attribute that night. But what happened, happened. Right? You and Skara…"

"We're in a fight," the guy said sharply.

"Oh…," you smacked your lips and then ran your tongue over them completely forgetting that you had make-up on tonight. "I'm sorry, and I hope it's not because of the situation with us…with everyone."

In your back pocket your phone beeped again with the sound of a text coming in, it must have been Clorinde. You jerked your hand to get the device out, but you were hit by the fact that Xiao was still holding you, only his grip was much softer than the first time. You shifted your gaze to his face and saw that he was also looking at the spot where he had touched your skin. It seemed like the guy hadn't quite made his point yet and now, at this very moment, he was fighting his demons in his head.

Xiao looked up at you with his golden eyes, and you felt his thumb run up your arm. He was no longer holding you, but his hand was still on your wrist.

The phone beeped again and the sound brought him out of his stupor. He abruptly pulled you to him, kissing you greedily on your closed lips. All your efforts at make-up had just gone to hell.

Your eyes remained open as he brazenly slipped his tongue into your mouth, and you mewled pitifully and began to slap his shoulders with all your might, trying to break free. It succeeded.

Both you and Xiao, both of you were breathing heavily.

"What the fuck? Xiao…"

"I can't think about anything else since that night! And it's literally eating me up. It was all so wrong, but I want it again. I want to fuck you alone. I want to feel your touch, I want to touch your thighs and feel you inside. And I don't want Skara anywhere near me. Fuck!"

Xiao slammed his fist into the wall with all his might, causing you to jerk. Never before had you witnessed such a thing from this guy. And even more, in theory you could have guessed this turn of events from Scaramucci, because he, thanks to his enormous self-confidence, never hid the fact that he wouldn't mind getting into your knickers. But Xiao? The sensible, mostly calm Xiao was just turning everything upside down right now.

"I…I have to go." You said quickly and without waiting for an answer, you headed down the stairs.

Yeah, you're going to get really drunk tonight.

[gillie266]

Yeein' On That 'Haw Ch. 1-- Private Property

Remember that old movie from the late 90s about those weird film students who wandered into the woods like idiots looking for a witch? And the two guys totally took advantage of that to kill that girl dead? I think it was ‘the blunt witch project’ or something like that. That’s probably not it. That sounds like a sketchy old lady weed dealer. Blunt Witch. Maybe once I finally retire to the middle of bumfuck nowhere and wind up living in an alley somewhere I should start a weed-dealing business and call it Blunt Witch. Man, local businesses should hire me. 

Well, maybe if I wasn’t in the middle of the goddamn woods like those weird film students I would have had a better chance at getting hired for my clearly genius business ideas. It was kinda gross in the woods. I kept getting bitten by mosquitos. It was wet and sticky everywhere I went! Even the bush I dove into after seeing a grasshopper was moist! 

The mosquitos would probably have been less of a problem if it was fall or winter. But no, of course I had to go bigfoot-hunting at the beginning of spring, when the mosquitos were actively making more mosquitos. Don’t ask why I have an in-depth knowledge of when mosquitos fuck, you pick things up over the years. 

Microscopic mating aside, I was in the middle of the woods and I felt like I was going in circles. I kept seeing the same weirdly pink trees everywhere I went. Now that I think about it, why was the foliage around there pink? Maybe because they hadn’t shed their Valentine’s Day decorations yet. Whatever, not my problem. But yeah, I was absolutely going in circles. I know that because someone carved the word ‘crungus’ into a tree and I kept seeing it. Unless Little Billy was following me and carving the word ‘crungus’ into all of the trees while my back was turned. 

…Now that I think about it, that was definitely a possibility. Pint-sized prick. 

I had hardly noticed what time it was. The sun had just begun to set, casting a golden hue onto my surroundings. Once I did notice the time, I heaved an exasperated sigh. I would have to sleep in the woods again. Last time wasn’t fun. I still have the swan bite scars. I can’t believe they found me all the way out there… vengeful bastards. 

But there was no way I was getting back to town before nightfall at this rate. I had already been lost for hours, and it didn’t seem like I was making any progress. So I chose a different direction other than the one I had been walking in for hours straight to see if I could find a suitable clearing to hunker down for the night in. I probably passed like seven suitable clearings, but I was completely spaced out, if I’m being honest.  

The sun had sunk low in the sky before I finally snapped out of my half-conscious haze. There was a brief flicker of yellow in my vision. Civilization! Or a nuclear power plant. It was one of the two. I’d take anything at this point. 

I charged through the thinning trees, and when I finally breached the treeline, I was immensely disappointed. The yellow I saw was nothing more than a caution sign. Several caution signs, actually. Most bearing threatening warnings such as ‘I shoot on sight’ and ‘stay away.’ One was just a mediocre drawing of a piss-yellow shotgun plastered onto a tree. 

But there, amidst the slew of warning signs, was my saving grace. A shack. Hell yeah. The thing was covered in moss and mold and was probably infested with raccoons. It also had menacing, apocalypse-esque scrawlings along the walls and ceilings. One that stood out to me was ‘many eyes, always watching.’ People didn’t have eyes here– c’mon, mysterious sign-writer, get a grip. We have optical sensors here.

I shrugged. Hey, how bad could it be? This shack had probably been abandoned for decades now. There may have even been pre-dialup relics buried in there! I wasn’t gonna pass that up. 

The warning signs and paranoid writing were completely ignored as I approached the shack. The steps up to the porch creaked under my weight. As I closed the distance between myself and the shack’s front door, I could have sworn I heard panicked footsteps coming from inside the building. It’s probably the raccoons. I tried the handle. Locked. I prepared myself before ramming my shoulder full-force into the door. Dull pain echoed throughout my arm, stemming from my certainly now-bruised shoulder. Despite my relatively wimpy stature, I made a sizable dent in the wood. Okay, two more and I would be golden. And covered in splinters, but some sacrifices must be made. 

It was then that I heard something clattering on the floor from beyond the door. I briefly paused but shook off my confusion before slamming into the wood once more. I made a bit more progress but winced when I felt that pain again, pulling back and using my other hand to gently press down on my shoulder in an attempt to soothe it. 

Just as I was about to break down the door, a rather concerning sound made me freeze. Something that sounded awfully like the cocking of a shotgun. 

Oh, shit. 

I yelped as the door flung open with a force strong enough to crack loudly. The next thing I knew, I was staring down the barrel of a shotgun close enough to see the scratch marks on its frame. 

My adrenaline spiked, and I frantically ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding the bullet that fired from the firearm’s barrel. The motion caused me to stumble and bend my ankle, sending me crashing onto the rotting wood of the porch. On pure instinct, I turned my aching body and rolled about a foot to my left. And thank whoever was watching that I decided to do that, since another bullet fired a hole right in the wood where my head was not a second prior. 

As much as I’d like to say that I handled that situation like a badass and kicked my attacker in the nards… Well, that would be a bold-faced lie. Instead of that, I screamed like a complete and utter puss. My voice was muffled in my own sound-processors, and it was then that I noticed the high-pitched ringing. I should have expected that– there were two bullets fired right next to my sound-processors. And I have phone tinnitus.

I didn’t think I could dodge another bullet, so I defaulted to my second instinct: pleading for my life. My voice sounded foreign. It was terrified– animalistic, even. “Wait! Wait-wait! Hang on a second!” I lifted my hands to cover my head, pulling my knees upward in a desperate attempt to get some sort of protection. 

My attacker must have sympathized with my cowardice because they halted their shooting to listen to me. After a moment, I lowered my hands from my head to get a good look at this probably psychopath. 

He was tall. And I’m not just saying that because I was on the ground and looking up. This guy was probably a good few inches above six feet tall. The best thing I could compare his build to was a stereotypical plumber– he had that staple midlife crisis body. Round torso, beefy arms– all beneath an… astronaut training suit? Where the hell did this guy get an astronaut training suit? 

Not only that, but he had a paper bag over his head. With a sticky note plastered onto it. And the sticky note had a face drawn onto it. A pissed-off-looking face. I couldn’t help but question the logistics behind that. Did he always wear this pissy bag-face, or did he put that on when I showed up? 

And why was he wearing a cowboy hat? What was with this guy’s fashion sense? I really did feel like I was looking at a video game character. And he was pointing a shotgun at my head. Phone-gods, what a nightmare. Not phone-gods. Regular gods. This place was getting to me. 

But I had to take this opportunity. I tried not to let my confusion show in my body language and took a deep breath, swallowing the growing lump in my throat. I didn’t notice how much my hands were shaking. “Okay. Listen. I’m sorry for bashing your door in. But it was locked. I had to get in somehow.”

I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt the shotgun’s barrel press just above my dial. Then a slightly muffled, mildly annoyed voice emitted from beyond the paper bag. “This is private property, pardner. O’course the door would be locked.”

And he had a country accent? This guy checked all the boxes for a stereotypical yeehaw-man. I don’t know what I was expecting. 

I swallowed before responding to his clarification. “...Riiiight. Well, how was I supposed to know this was anything but an abandoned shack?” 

The yeehaw-man reached into his pocket, causing me to flinch instinctively when he took one of his hands off of the shotgun. He retrieved a different sticky note, which he used to replace the one that was already plastered onto the paper bag. This one had a different face drawn onto it– one that was less pissed, more annoyed. He used his hand to gesture widely at our surroundings. At the warning signs. At the huge yellow piece of paper pasted to the wall next to us that said in bright black letters ‘PRIVATE PROPERTY.’

I grimaced. 

He returned his attention to me, pressing the shotgun somehow harder above my dial. “Gimme one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot ya dead right ‘ere.” 

I hesitated. Honestly, I could hardly think of anything myself. If I were in his position, I would shoot me too. But I had to say something. “Uhh… because you would have to clean up my remains? And… it would be a waste of good ammunition?” 

The space cowboy froze, tilting his head slightly to the side as if scrutinizing my appearance. When he spoke again, his tone had softened slightly to something more inquisitive than murderous. “Huh. I suppose yer right.” 

I deflated in relief when he lowered his firearm, lifting it so he could hold it close to his chest. I laid there for a moment, still processing what had just happened, before performing a frustrated gesture with my arms. “Well, aren’t you going to help me up?”

His response was quick and straight to the point. “Absolutely not.”

“Alright, fair enough,” I groaned in discomfort as I pushed myself to my feet. Yep, he was definitely well above six feet tall. Scary bastard. We stood in silence for a moment while I brushed off the dirt-stained knees of my pants.

“Are you gon’ tell me why you decided it was a good idea t’ intrude on my private property?” The man before me broke the silence, inflection flat and… almost bored. 

I narrowed my metaphorical eyes at him, although I doubted he could see it, considering he had a bag on his head. Wait, how did he know where to aim with that gun of his? Did he have slits in the bag that I just hadn’t noticed? I shook off that question so I could effectively answer his. “Uh… well, to be honest, I was bigfoot hunting–”

“Bigfoot huntin’? That thing ain’t real, pardner.” His words were insistent. 

If I could frown, I would have at that moment. “You never know. Where do you think the tracks come from?” 

He swapped out his sticky note again for a more confused one. It was an… awkward pause in the conversation. “...Other animals. Maybe an escaped ape from th’ Dialtown zoo.”

“Animals don’t escape from the Dialtown zoo, man. Not since… the incident.” I shuddered. 

“Alright then, we agree. Bigfoot ain’t real. Continue.” His voice carried an air of finality that I didn’t feel like arguing with at the moment, so I simply sighed and moved on. 

“...But yeah, I got lost, and it eventually got too late to get back to town. So I was gonna look around for a nice little clearing to set up for the night in, and whaddya know! A shack.” I shrugged. “You can’t blame me for feeling relieved and wanting to get up in there, right?”

“Relieved ‘nough t’ ignore the signs tellin’ ya that I shoot on sight?” The yeehaw man asked flatly. I shrugged. “Well, yeah. I didn’t want to spend the night in a bush. You’d do the same thing.”

He sighed, removing one hand from his shotgun to lift it to his head, where he dragged his hand down the length of the paper bag. I furrowed my nonexistent brows at that. Normally people around here don’t do that since, well, they have technology for heads. 

“Well, now ya know that I’m not acceptin’ visitors. Or guests. Go on, git.” He returned both hands to his firearm, using it to gesture away from the area. I turned, appalled. “You can’t just kick me to the curb! Or… forest.” I paused before shaking my phone head in disbelief. “I’m desperate here, man. Let me stay here, just for the night.” 

All of a sudden, I was staring down the barrel of a shotgun once more. My optical sensors widened as my gaze flickered between certain death and the man before me. He spoke once more, his voice louder and more insistent. “I told ya t’ git. ‘Less ya feel like eatin’ some lead.” 

I visibly deflated. I had almost resigned myself to sleeping in a tree for the night. Almost. I slowly turned to leave, watching the man do the same, before pausing and turning back around. “Just one quick question.”

He audibly groaned and frustratedly turned back around to face me. “If I answer this question o’ yers, will ya leave me the hell alone?” 

I frantically nodded. I had to learn more about this guy. Maybe if I figured out a good talking point, I could eventually convince him to let me inside. “What’s with the bag?” 

I must have touched a nerve because he immediately tensed, his grip on the shotgun tightening to the point that his knuckles turned white. “And what in tarnation makes ya think I’d answer that question?” 

“...Because I’ll leave if you do?” My voice was quiet and inquiring. I knew I was toeing the line of being alive… and pumped full of lead. 

The cowboy-hat-wearing menace sighed reluctantly before answering in a low, hesitant voice. “I ‘ave a head. A regular head.”

I tilted my own, red rotary head. “Regular…?” 

He made a frustrated, helpless gesture with his hands. “That’s right, clueless trespasser. A regular head. One with a face. And eyes and ears n’ such.” 

What the fuck was he talking about? I hadn’t seen a real flesh-head since… well… a while ago. I didn’t think they existed anymore. I… can’t even remember her face. 

I fell into confused silence. He must have sensed my confusion, because he sighed heavily. “I answered yer question. Now git.” He pointed firmly over my shoulder. 

“Waaaaait…” I drawled, holding up a finger to shut him up. “You’re a normie? Living all the way out here? What for? I would have thought you would be a celebrity in Dialtown.” I paused, leaning forward curiously. “...You are from Dialtown, right?”

The man before me tentatively folded his arms, tucking the shotgun under his arm. “I was,” he mumbled indignantly. I gave an intrigued hum. “I see, I see, well, why don’t you tell me all about it.” I reached out to pat his arm, which he swiftly pulled away from. But he didn’t aim a firearm at my head this time. 

“C’monnn, you gotta be lonely out here, right? A little human interaction never hurt anyone.” I gestured to my scrawny form. “And if we’re being honest with ourselves, what harm can I do?” 

He stared at me. Okay, now I was getting a little nervous. This guy was a little more than threatening; he had the silhouette of a pear. A guy like that can make someone nervous. 

I heard a resigned sigh emanate from behind the bag. “Fine. Y’don’t talk, y’don’t touch anything, and y’ especially don’t touch me. If y’do, I’ll ensure that yer belly get’s chock full o’ lead.”

An excited squeak left my speaker as he turned to gesture toward the still-open door. I practically skipped inside and was… immediately disappointed. I don’t know what I was expecting from a dingy shack in the middle of the woods. It was cluttered, though not dirty, littered with old cigarette butts and crates full of non-perishables. There was a small shelf– if you could call it that– with a small collection of cowboy hats right next to a small, dust-stained cot. Again, what else could I have been expecting? 

The thing that grabbed my attention the most was the dartboard hung on the wall. Honestly, it was quite hilarious. It had a photo of Mayor Mingus taped to it. There were darts stuck in the board, most right on the photo’s face. 

“Man, someone really doesn’t like democratically elected representatives,” I said this knowing that Mingus was absolutely not elected democratically. It was so obvious that she rigged the ballot. But hey, what do I care?

“It’s not that,” the man said as he shut the door behind us, barring it with a long plank of wood that rested beside it. “She’s a goddamned, xenophobic varmint is what she is.” 

There was something about the pure hate in his voice that gave me pause. I turned to face him, folding my arms across my chest while he propped his shotgun up next to the door. “Xenophobic? I’ve heard a lot of things about Mayor Mingus, but that’s a first.” I tilted my head. “Care to explain, Mr…?” I made a vague gesture with my hand toward the man before me, prompting him to give me his name. 

“Sargent Norman G. Allen, pardner,” he shared his name with me after a brief hesitation. 

“That’s a mouthful. Can I call you Norm?” 

He tensed for a moment but ultimately sighed. “Fine.” He pointed an accusatory finger at me, and I leaned back slightly to counteract the movement. “But don’t get too used t’ it. Yer outta here by dawn.” 

“Hey! Don’t you wanna know my name?” I placed my hands on my hips as I watched Norm move across the room and toward a small counter across from me. 

“Not particularly,” he muttered. 

“(Y/N). Good to meet you, Norm.” I told him my name anyway. He had to refer to me somehow, and the whole ‘pardner’ thing was getting old real fast.

“...Right.” I wasn’t sure he had entirely processed what I had said. 

I shrugged, returning to my previous activity of looking around the room. I noticed the small table resting in the center of the room, and I pointed over my shoulder at it with my thumb. “Two chairs? I thought you didn’t accept guests.” I chuckled lightly. “Weren’t you going to tell me about your grudge toward the mayor?”

“It ain’t a–” Norm sighed before gesturing with an open palm toward the table. “It’s best if y’ take a seat. We’re gon’ be here a while.”

[writing-for-life]

As It Was Before The Otherness Came

A one-shot fic for #sandmanfemslashweekend (also on Ao3 if you prefer to read there, chapters are linked), chapters only for structure.

Chapters: 13 (3,773 words) Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Mature  Warnings: Major Character Death  Relationships: Modern Johanna Constantine/Rachel Moodie  Characters: Modern Johanna Constantine (The Sandman TV), Rachel Moodie, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless  Additional Tags: Falling In Love, Developing Relationship, Sex, Moving In Together, Break Up, Emotional Baggage, Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Canon Compliant, Canon, Swearing

Johanna Constantine and Rachel Moodie are recounting their developing and failing relationship in short, intercutting scenes. Johanna tells her story from end to beginning (she is starting with Rachel's death), and Rachel from beginning to end (she starts with how they met). There are only two scenes in third person (at the exact midpoint and the very end), the rest is written in first person POV by the individual character.

If you find the intercutting, non-linear structure hard to follow, you could try to read Johanna and Rachel separately before putting them back together.

The song inspiration is "As it was" by Hozier.

Sex in ch. 2 but not particularly explicit language, so I don’t think we need a community label. Let me know if you prefer I put one on.

Chapter 1: Demons (Johanna)

It was pissing down in a way I hadn’t experienced for a while. I mean, it’s London, but on that night, it was something else.

As I stood there, waiting for him, I couldn’t help but think that she really was a good person.

And that’s the fucking unfairness of it all. Would be easier to say I didn’t care about her, and maybe it’s true. Maybe I didn’t care enough. It’s me who isn’t a good person. People just get hurt if they get too close to me. Too much darkness, inside and out.

I let her get close. At least for a while. Until I felt it—the dimming of light. The expectations. The domestic shit. And I told myself that’s all it was—feeling tied down. She wanted the happily ever after. I couldn’t give her any of that. Too many demons. Not the real ones, although they’re part of the problem. Sort of. But the demons I’m talking about are mine, and mine alone. And when she looked at me that final time before I left her with him, I wished I’d never let her close enough to see them. Because once she had, she wanted to get to the bottom of it all, and she kept on trying. But that’s not how it works. It never does because it’s true:

I ruin everything I touch.

The sound of his steps took me out of my thoughts.

“She died in peace. In her sleep…”

Chapter 2: It was all it took (Rachel)

It all happened so fast. And it was clichéd:

She cut in right in front of me like a complete bitch, I said, “Excuse me?!”

The side-eye. The husky laugh. The, “Sorry, love…” mixed with a raised eyebrow.

The glances across tables that finally made me burst out laughing. Her confused look, quickly replaced with an inappropriate grin. Only that I didn’t find it inappropriate.

Her wiping everything off my kitchen table before pinning me down.

My legs around her hips.

That hoarse voice of hers that had been driving me insane for the last couple of hours. “Tell me what you want.”

“Show me what you’ve got…” I put my hands on her hips and began to direct her.

She closed her eyes for a second and exhaled before opening them again. Those brown eyes that were blazing like all the fires of hell.

One of her hands moved down my flanks. When she reached my hip, she ran it between our bodies and began touching both of us.

“Trying to make me come first?” I moaned.

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t…” I could hardly control my voice.

“Better do something about it, then.”

I ran both of my hands between us and put them on hers.

“Like this?”

“Fuck…” She moved with me, touching me, touching herself. I felt the dampness between us, my own stickiness on my hands.

The table creaked, and its surface was hard and unforgiving. It was uncomfortable, and I didn’t care.

She pulled her hand away and propped herself up on her elbows, cupping my face. No, not cupping. Clasping. Hard. “Keep on doing what you’re doing.”

I bent my knees and pushed my feet into the table. I felt her and myself. I heard her and myself. But alI could see was her. The little frown between her eyebrows. The colour of her eyes that seemed to change from brown to black right in front of me. The mouth I wanted to kiss but didn’t because I was too busy looking at her and feeling her.

Creaking, rubbing, pressing, sensing. My mind was clouded, my body aware. I touched, she pushed. Her breath hitched, her eyes closed.

Speeding up, the sound of her voice, the feeling of her breath.

A moment of stillness, slowing down.

Her hand reached down and rested on my hands for the briefest of moments before she removed them. “Put your hands over your head and let me touch you.” Her voice was breathless.

She finally kissed me while holding my hands in place with her left and touching me with her right. She breathed into me, I breathed into her. It only took her seconds to make me come. It was sweet, it was painful, it made me tighten and open up at once.

It was all it took. I knew I wanted more of it. More of her, even if she hadn’t shown me much. I wanted to find out…

Chapter 3: Save the light (Johanna)

She was asleep. I lay awake. And I had been for the last 3 hours.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The nightmares were worse than ever. Her light would fade if she stayed with me.

I’d tried to provoke her far too many times over the last couple of days, and I hated myself for it. Honestly, I wanted her to break up with me. But she didn’t get the hint. She didn’t mind arguing. She always said it was “healthy”. Fuck no, nothing that involves me is healthy. And that’s why I needed to let her go. And if she wouldn’t leave me, I’d have to leave her to save her light. She meant something to me, whatever it was, and I couldn’t afford that. Neither did she deserve to go down with me.

I got up and got dressed, grabbed a few things and left the rest. For a moment, I thought I should have taken everything I had brought into her flat over the past months, but then she’d immediately know. And I didn’t want her on my back. Or maybe I lied to myself and, for a split-second, thought it was a way back in if I changed my mind.

But when I quietly closed the door behind me, I already knew I wouldn’t…

Chapter 4: Moving fast (Rachel)

She was so beautiful when she laughed, and it’s not that she never did. But it was usually some sort of sneer, a grin with an underlying hint of jadedness, a smile that looked like it was covering up some kind of hurt. But this one was real.

“I should go home soon,” she said, a smile still tugging at the corners of her mouth.

I leaned forward and kissed one corner. “You could stay tonight.” Then the other. “Or you could just…stay?”

She immediately moved back and looked at me like only Jo looks at you. As if you’ve got two heads. As if you’ve completely lost the plot.

“Woah, moving a bit fast, aren’t we?”

And there it was. The sneer. But I was having none of it and just kissed her again. I felt a tiny bit of resistance at first, but not as much as I had feared. She finally gave in.

“Just stay tonight,” I mumbled against her lips. “We could cook together, maybe watch a film, and you could just pretend to be my girlfriend for once.”

She snorted. “I’m not pretending, it’s just…”

“Well, that’s it settled then,” I interrupted with a grin.

She smiled back, and that one was real…

Chapter 5: My nightmares, her dreams (Johanna)

I felt exhausted and drained. Seen things no human should ever see, and it had been a close one. Again.

When I opened the door to her flat, a part of me hoped to find comfort in her arms, felt like talking about what had happened tonight.

Past the point, not her stuff to worry about. What was I even thinking?

And in any case, she was waiting for me with a face like thunder.

“Where have you been?”

“Come on, Rach, not that shit again.” For fuck’s sake, she’d been crying, I could see it in her eyes.

“Well, yes, that shit again. What do you expect me to say if I’m worried sick about you? I can't take the constant worry. And you’re never honest with me!”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “When were you ever honest when you get calls in the middle of the night, when you just disappear, when you come back stinking of god-knows-what?”

I felt a surge of pain and anger, but I quickly swallowed it. It wasn’t her fault. How could she even remotely understand?

Deep down, I knew she was right. I would never be able to be truly honest with her, not as long as my world was one of demons and nightmares while hers was one of humans and dreams.

So I turned on my heel and just said, “I’ll let you cool off a bit and come back later.”

“Yeah, just run away, like every time things get too close!” she called after me.

And once again, she was right…

Chapter 6: Light is armour (Rachel)

She had this funny little ritual. Every night, before we went to sleep, Jo told me a bedtime story. She was really great at it, spinning tales of adventure and slaying demons—always demons. And of course she was always the heroine of her stories (even if she pretended she wasn’t), and sometimes, she would even save me (even if she pretended it was someone else).

I found it hilarious and endearing—here was the woman I loved, who always seemed so tough, but she was like a little kid when she described epic battles against terrifying creatures that threatened the peace of some random kingdom.

She would talk about wielding a magical sword that could cut through any darkness, and wearing armour made of pure light.

“How does that even work?” I snorted. “You must be butt-naked under that.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “It’s not me!”

“Okay, then whoever she is, she’s still starkers. Light isn’t armour.”

She looked at me, and her expression changed. “Maybe it is.”

And of course I knew they were more than just bedtime stories. That there were struggles behind it all, disguised as fantasy. That Jo had hopes and dreams, hidden under a mountain of fear and insecurity. And I didn’t know how to help her through it all because she still wouldn’t let me.

But right then, as we lay in bed together, wrapped in each other's arms, I felt a sense of peace, and I’m sure she felt it, too.

Chapter 7: Pulling the drawstrings (Johanna & Rachel)

Johanna rang the doorbell and waited. It took Rachel a while to buzz her in, and it took Jo an even longer while to get up the stairs. When Rachel opened the flat door, she was soaking, a towel wrapped around her. It didn’t stop her from leaning in to kiss Jo and getting her wet in the process.

“Oy,” Johanna grinned.

Rachel’s gaze dropped to the bags that lay on the floor. “Moving in?” She smirked.

“Well, I need to keep some stuff close by and might as well just leave it here at the moment.”

“Right.” Rach raised her eyebrow and couldn’t stop grinning. “Come in then. Want me to take any of that?”

“Nah, just get yourself dried and decent.”

“As if.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, I need to unpack a few things.”

Rachel petted her lip in mock-disappointment. “Okay, just get started, I’ll be with you in a few…”

“What’s that?” Rachel asked, dressed in jeans and a jumper, a towel still wrapped around her head.

“I’ve no clue, honestly, It’s some old pouch I got while…” She hesitated. “Can’t remember where I got it, but I never even managed to pull the drawstrings open.”

“Let me…”

Johanna threw the leather pouch at Rachel, who nearly dropped it.

“Careful,” she grinned.

“I always am, aren’t I?”

Chapter 8: Sand (Rachel)

She’d just left me standing there like an idiot. It was the first real argument.

No, it wasn’t even that because we hadn’t exactly been fighting. I had asked questions. Okay, maybe I had raised my voice a little, but I had been sitting at home for hours, feeling worried about her, not knowing where she was. And it hadn’t been the first time. Her phone was always switched off. In fact, it was near always switched off. It was sometimes impossible to get a hold of her. And when I had told her that she wasn’t honest with me, she had completely stonewalled me before running away.

I felt my eyes welling up with tears again, and it annoyed me. So I got ready for bed. I lay there for hours, tossing and turning, and couldn’t get to sleep. I wandered back into the living room and switched on the TV. When I sat down on the couch, the leather pouch on the coffee table caught my attention. We both hadn’t managed to open it, even after trying repeatedly, but I didn’t have anything better to do, so I tried again. But no matter how hard I tried, it didn’t work.

“Honestly, I will just pretend I can open you with sheer willpower and belief, you stupid thing. Abracadabra,” I joked. And believe it or not, all of a sudden, the pouch was open. Just a tiny crack, maybe the size of a shirt button. But it was enough to take a peek. It was hard to tell what it was, so I turned it over gently.

Sand?

I brought my hand up to my face and carefully sniffed it to make sure that’s what it was.

I can’t remember what happened after, but I do remember I woke up the next morning, and that I hadn’t had such nice dreams in ages…

Chapter 9: Just a few bags (Johanna)

I honestly spent a lot of time with her, which wasn’t like me at all. And it just felt so fucking nice to have someone to come home to for once. But was I truly coming home to her?

Emotionally, maybe. But I was still only staying overnight. Well, on the nights I could. Big step for me though.

I second-guessed myself. Too rash? Too cautious? Missing out on something I knew I shouldn’t really allow myself?

For a brief moment, I actually thought, “Shit, Jo, you’re really getting in too deep.”

And the very next moment, she encroached on my mind like a flippin’ vision. Her smile, her laugh, her kindness, her passion.

How we spent time together. Me, doing shit like cuddling on the sofa and cooking. And of course we were fucking each other senseless, but that wasn’t it. I was always able to get that somewhere if I really wanted to. It was the way she made me feel. When I was with her, I was happy for a moment. I took a glance at the shitty photo booth shots of us, and I even looked it.

Was I ready for this?

Not really because it wasn’t just about me. It was about her.

Maybe I was overthinking it, letting fear get the better of me. And honestly, I should have.

It wasn’t moving in to just dump a couple of bags to make life easier, was it?

Chapter 10: As it was (Rachel)

It was okay for a short while. She’d come back, but she became more and more distant. The smiles were sneers again. The bedtime stories stopped.

Well, most of the time, she wasn’t even around at bedtime. If she was, the sex was still great, but I sometimes thought that was the problem. Because everything else had stopped. The real conversations, the watching stupid comedies together, the actual closeness.

I woke up at half past three, and she was gone. Again. And I was so fucking tired of it all. 

Tired and unable to sleep.

The pouch of sand was in the drawer of my bedside table. It helped me sleep. I didn’t have the faintest clue what this stuff was because it honestly just looked like sand. Maybe I just made up things in my mind, maybe it was true what they said about placebos: If you really believe something works, it will.

So whatever this stuff was, it worked.

I took a small amount and probably inhaled a bit too deeply because I immediately knew something was off.

When I came to, I was shaking, but I remembered the dream. It had been of her. Of us in a photo booth, and going on a walk together that ended up having her pin me against a tree, kissing me, letting her hands wander a bit too much and only stopping when a few people passed. 

And while it had been a dream, it was also real. Because that’s what we had done.

And I cried, and I wanted it all back.

I took a bit more sand and held on to the pouch. Maybe if I did it again, I could finally get to sleep…

Chapter 11: Snapshots (Johanna)

I don’t really have good days that often, I admit it. But that day was one of them. I had just decided to take her out. Properly, in a sort of old-fashioned way, because I knew she was into it, and I liked that about her to be honest.

We had lunch, and I, the woman who usually eats like a horse and doesn’t look too dignified while she’s at it, could hardly eat at all. All I could do was stare at her like some idiot, and it was fucking ridiculous.

As we entered the park (she wanted to “walk off the calories”, I just asked, “Why would you even say that?”), we stumbled across a vintage VW camper van that had been converted into a photo booth.

And of course she wanted to give it a try. I said no, probably 20 times, but she ultimately won.

Lots of funky props and costumes, and I honestly couldn’t believe she roped me into that shit—hats and sunglasses, feather boas and tiaras.

“Come on, Rach, let’s at least have a few shots without all the crap.”

“Okay,” she smiled, and we tried to get a few serious ones. Not that it worked.

Anyway, we ended up with a few I really liked and wanted to keep. She, of course, also wanted all the other ones, so we ultimately walked out with two sets of four prints.

When we walked home, I just pulled her off the path and kissed her. Well, maybe something else, too. But I remember clear as day it was the first time I actually felt I liked her a lot more than I wanted to let on…

Chapter 12: Whatever here that's left of me is yours (Rachel)

It hurt.

I couldn't even remember when I last got out of bed.

At first, I didn’t want to. I just wanted to sleep, get over the fact that she really didn’t come back this time. That she had left me without even having the guts to tell me. But it was impossible to get to sleep without the sand. And the more I took, the more I needed. To get rest, and to keep the nightmares at bay. Those nightmares that got a hold of me because of it but would also go away with it.

And then, I couldn’t get out of bed physically. Whenever I tried, the pain was so severe that I immediately had to lie back down. I stopped eating at some point, which didn’t help. But whenever I managed to get rest and dream of her, it didn’t matter. At some point, the hunger just stopped.

It was waking up that was agony, not sleeping. It was not dreaming that parched me, not the fact that I didn't drink.

I couldn’t remember when I’d last been to work. The phone had rung non-stop for a while, but I physically couldn’t answer. Maybe there were people at the door at some point. Maybe I’d let them in, maybe I hadn’t, because I couldn’t remember if I'd even managed to get up at any point. It was all a haze.

I lay there, wondering where it all went wrong. What had gotten me into this state. Why I couldn't breathe, why I was in so much pain. But it would all ebb back when the dreams came.

I counted to 100…

Chapter 13: Stark sights and dark nights (Johanna, Rachel & Dream)

“Jo, is that you?” Rachel’s voice sounded thin and brittle. “That’s such a wonderful dream.”

Johanna stepped towards the bed. “It’s me Rach. It’s going to be okay.” She took her hand, but the mere touch made Rachel whimper in pain. She looked at him. “What’s happened to her?”

“It’s the sand, it wasn’t meant for humans.”

He carefully removed the pouch from Rachel’s hand. The desperation that washed over her was so immediate that Johanna had to close her eyes for a second.

“No, no, no, give it back. Please, it hurts.”

He turned around almost immediately. “We can go.”

“What? We can’t go, we can’t leave her like this!” Johanna called after him.

“We can’t help her, the sand was the only thing keeping her alive.”

“You have to do something. If it wasn't for your sand, she wouldn't be like this!”

His expression was completely emotionless. “I'm not the one who left her with it.”

It was the moment Johanna lost all composure. “What is wrong with you? You want your sand back so you can save all of humanity? Well, here she is! But we're all just like Roderick Burgess to you. All you care about is your sand, your power. What is the point of you?” She swallowed hard and was back in control. “Well, you got your sand back. Why are you still here if you won't help?” And with that, she turned her back on him.

He hesitated before stepping closer to the bed. “Wait outside.”

Johanna looked at him briefly with an almost imperceptible nod.

Rachel was shaking violently, and Johanna sat down on the bed. “Rach…”

“I’m so sorry, Jo.”

She stroked Rachel’s head. “It’s my fault, all of it. I should never have left it with you.” She held and steadied her hands. “I should never have left.”

Rachel looked at her with glazed eyes. “You came back though, didn’t you?

Johanna gave her a small smile. One of the real ones. When she kissed her lightly, it all got too much. She got up and began to make her way out. As she reached the bedroom door, she heard that little voice in her head: 

No matter what he said, you really should stay.

And as always, she was good at ignoring it…

Tagging @sandmanfemslashfans @honeyteacakes @two-hands-toward-the-sun @lucienne-thee-librarian @seiya-starsniper

[lifebyinez]

Tiny Fires- Ch. 2- Home Alone

Link to Ch. 1

TW- drinking, angst, lots of imagery, foreshadowing if you squint, etc.

~Y/N POV~

"Oh, no it's okay. I was about to head upstairs anyways." I didn't give her time to respond before I turned to walk away. "I'll be awake for awhile though, so if you need anything I'll be in my room." She was about to speak but I closed the door. I couldn't deal with this right now. I know she hates me, so why would I force her to be around me anymore than she already has to be.

I was really hoping that her little 'vacation' would change her opinion on me, as selfish as that seems. It may be better for me to just stay out of her way. I'm sure this is all very hard for her, being hunted by a psychopath and all. Leaving her house, her job, and her life behind to live with somebody that she can't stand. I'd be pretty grumpy too.

~

Instead of  heading straight upstairs, I grabbed a bottle of wine first. I needed a drink to slow my racing thoughts. All the tension with Emily was going to drive me crazy. I didn't bother grabbing a glass, this is a straight from the bottle kind of night. I needed the wine to slow my racing thoughts. The thoughts about my boss, my unfortunately very attractive boss who was now living with me. My boss whom I've harbored a small crush on since I joined the team. My boss who is just my type. My boss who can't stand to be in the same room with me. Yeah, I'm drinking tonight. This was going to be difficult for me. All I've ever wanted since joining the team was to impress her, and all she's wanted since I joined the team was for me to disappear. I don't think either of us are getting what we want.

~

Half of my bottle was gone when I got a call from JJ. Being a lightweight, I was very tipsy already. "Agent y/L/N. " I slurred  into the phone. She told me that I needed to be at the airstrip in 1 hour, we have a case in Detroit. "Oh, uh, we may have a problem. I can't drive, and I don't think I can get an Uber from where I live..." I heard her sigh into the phone, "I live closest to you. I'm on my way." I thanked her and apologized profusely.

~

25 minutes later, JJ's SUV pulled up. I left a note for Emily and headed out the door. I stumbled into JJ's car and she laughed at me. "Jesus, Y/N! Why are you drinking so much on a Wednesday night?" I stared at my shoes, pretending not to hear her.  "Y/N... talk to me."  She placed her hand on my shoulder, hoping to get me to open up. I looked at her, and gave her a slight smile, hoping it would get her off my case. Maybe if I pretend to be absolutely wasted, she will leave me alone. But then again, I would look like a fool in front of my colleague, and I definitely do not want to do that. Maybe I could open up to her? No. Absolutely not, if I do that, I will start to cry. And I'd rather look like a drunken idiot than cry in front of anybody. Maybe I could tell her I'm an alcoholic? No. That's not a good idea at all. I needed to answer her before she got suspicious... 

~

"Just one of those nights. I'm going to close my eyes before we get to the jet." She nodded back at me. I could tell she wasn't completely satisfied with my answer, but she accepted it none the less.  I closed my eyes and allowed the sleepiness to take over.

~Emily's POV~

I paced around the back porch, caught up in my thoughts. Maybe I've been too hard on the young agent, she can barely even look at me. Normally I wouldn't mind that,  but I was making her uncomfortable in her own home, and nobody deserves that. Especially when she not only took me in, but also took in my cat. She's been nothing but kind to me, and I have not returned the favor.

And as much as I hate to admit it, she really is quite lovely when she isn’t pushing all of my buttons.

I never quite appreciated her before, but this house is changing the way that I view her. Every decoration, plant, curtain, clutter, they’re all parts of her. Each one deliberately placed, to add another piece of her into her space. There’s so many things here, yet somehow, it’s not messy at all. It doesn’t feel cluttered, it feels homey. Which in a way, is the way that y/n feels… homey.

It’s hard to take it all in at once, but I’ve tried to hard to study this space. From what I’ve gathered, is this house is very special to her. You can tell that she took her time with it, likely taking years for it to be just the way she wanted. There was too much decor for something like this to happen overnight. No, she took her time. And you could especially see that in her bedroom.

I want to see it again, to study it further, but she said she was going to her bedroom. Should I go up there? What if she’s sleeping… who am I kidding. I learned the week that we shared a hotel room on a case that that girl never sleeps.

My mind was still debating on going to see her, but my feet were moving up the steps anyways. I don’t want to make this any more awkward than it’s been so far, but I just need to see it again. And I needed to see her again. Which is… a new feeling. Not one that I’m used to. Normally I want to be as far away from her as possible, but something about being hunted by a murderer makes you want to be closer to your people. And as much as I hate to admit it, y/n is my people. She’s part of the team. And it’s time that I start acting like it.

I knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer. Before I could even process my thoughts, I opened the door. The room was dark, the only light was from the stars shining through the window. And she wasn’t here. It’s probably better this way, if she was here, she’d know I was profiling her bedroom. I flicked on the lights.

There was lots of wood in this room. & not the new modern grey-stained wood, this was real. The bed frame, the bedside tables, & the dressers were all that same yellow-pine wood. Weird, I didn’t take y/n to be one for uniformity. There was also lots of green, but it was more subtle, like an accent color. The walls were beige, but there were so many plants & paintings that the walls were merely negative space to me. The lighting wasn’t harsh, soft yellow/orange light came from the paper chandelier above, and from the multiple lamps she had around the room. She liked her room to be bright, yet soft at the same time. Almost like a cozy fire. There was a wicker hanging chair hidden in the corner, with a crochet bunny on it. How cute. Next to it, another tall bookshelf. Weird, I didn’t think that would be here, since she had two massive bookshelves in the office.

I scanned over the bookshelf, recognizing some of the titles. Most of them I’ve heard her hush about on the plane rides home when there was nothing to talk about. They must be very personal to her, considering she chooses to keep them in here rather than the office. But there’s one thing missing here. For someone like y/n, who pours her soul into every project, who deliberately places each piece of decoration, & is so careful to have it perfect… there’s not a single picture of her in this house, or anybody else for that matter.

Sure, there’s some pictures, but not of anybody she knows. They’re all famous paintings. It’s interesting how she chooses to keep these paintings of people that she’s never known closer than her family. Although, I’ve never heard her speak of her family… maybe that’s why.

But that’s when I found it, inside the armoire. Surrounded by a collection of angel statues, stood one single picture. Probably the only one in this entire house.

There she was, looking absolutely beautiful. Adorned with a cap & gown, smiling brightly at the camera, holding up her diploma. Next to her, stood an older woman, smiling even brighter than y/n was. I could tell she was proud, holding her protectively around her waist. Like she was a little girl… Her little girl? Was she her grandmother? Possibly, but they looked nothing alike. I guess it’s possible, or maybe y/n was adopted? I’m not sure.

That’s when I realized, I’ve been in here for quite a long time, and I haven’t heard anything out of y/n. Where did she go? She must be pretty good at hiding from me, twice in one night is a little much.

I didn’t find y/n, instead I found a sloppy note, much different from her normal neat hand writing, left to inform me that she was leaving on a case. I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. That’s when I realized…

I didn’t want her to leave. But it’s probably just because I have no one to talk to… right? She’s my only option right now. That’s why I want her here… that’s all..

I opened the door to my room, and it suddenly felt very plain, like there wasn’t enough in here.

That’s a new feeling, there’s much more in this room than there is back at my apartment. I normally like a more modern, minimalistic look, but for some reason, this room wasn’t enough for me right now. Especially knowing that she wasn’t here. There just wasn’t enough… y/n.

Once again, my heart betrayed my head as I walked out of my room and into hers. I pulled up the covers and crawled in, burying my head in her pillows. It smells just like she does, like orange blossom & white tea. My thoughts started to disappear. This is the most relaxed I’ve been in awhile. When I move back into my apartment, I need to get a bed like this. There was only one thing missing. One thing that I longed to reach out for, as my mind drifted into unconsciousness.

[kingdaddydaichi]

☆ title: redefining (ch. 2) | (ch. 1) ☆ (ch. 3)

☆ pairing: cop!daichi sawamura x single mom!reader

☆ wc: 3.1k

☆ synopsis: four years after leaving your toxic ex, you find yourself a single mom to a 10-year-old boy named musubi, who harbors a lot of misdirected anger. you hear from his fifth grade teacher, mr. suga, more often than your own mother and a resulting friendship is born. meeting suga’s best friend wages a war between your head and your heart - one that challenges everything you think you know about love and police officers. neither are to be trusted. both have left you lost and scared when you needed them the most. so, when a cop comes knocking at love’s door, just how strong is your resolve to keep your heart under lock and key?

☆ warnings/notes: sfw (this chapter; nsfw to come in later chapters). daichi's a cop. (mention of) dv (domestic violence).

✩ beta readers - aka my beautiful, chaotic, chosen family: @chaoskrakenuwu 🌪 @mxgenderbender 🦔

She knows every move that a man could make She knows every trick in the book She knows how to give, she knows how to take ‘Cause so many times she’s been taken a fool

Alibis - Tracy Lawrence

When Suga invited you to his place for a small dinner party with some of his closest friends, you’d offered to help him prep and cook. Your son was spending the weekend with his dad, freeing you up for some much-needed time to blow off steam.

Upon getting into your car, you called Suga to let him know you were on your way to his place.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to pick anything up on the way over?”

“Nah. I think we’re set!���

“Okay, I’ll be there in about 20 then!”

You opened the front door to Suga’s house and walked in to find him prepping in the kitchen. He wiped his hands to greet you with a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming to help me, y/n. My head would probably explode if I tried to do all this by myself!”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure! I love to cook. Plus it gives me more time to hang out with my bestie,” you said, putting away the alcohol and mixers you’d brought along. “I’m really excited to meet your other friends. I hope they like me.”

The grey-haired man smiled brightly. “Are you kidding? They’re gonna love you! I’ve known all these guys since high school. A couple of them are bringing their significant others along so it won’t be a complete sausage fest for you.”

“You make it sound like a sausage fest would be a bad thing,” you winked at him.

You both laughed and got busy preparing the food, Suga inwardly rubbing his hands together and evil-laughing. You had no idea about his master plan for you to meet one of his friends in particular - his best friend.

You had been working in the kitchen for a little over two hours when you finally found yourselves at a brief stopping point. Veggies had been julienned for the sushi, fish had been fileted, chicken had been teriyakied, rice had been fried, and more veggies were roasting in the oven. All that was left to do was cook the sushi rice then assemble the maki.

Poor Suga was so beat you insisted he go take a load off and relax for a bit while he could. The way he dramatically plopped onto the couch like a rag doll made you chuckle at him.

“You too, y/n! Come sit your ass down!”

“In a minute! I’m working on something!” you said, getting out a couple of cocktail glasses.

“No! I forbid you! No more working!” Suga called out from his living room.

“I promise it’s gonna be worth it!” you answered in a sing-song voice.

You walked out of the kitchen double-fisting vodka tonics. You sat down next to your friend who reached for one of the drinks, thanking you, but you pulled your arm back. “Go get your own! These are both mine!”

“You fucking lush, give me one of those!” Suga chided, taking one of the glasses out of your hand as you both laughed.

“How long do we have before we have to get back in there?” you asked, pulling your feet up on the couch to face Suga.

He took a sip of his drink while checking the timer in his phone. “Fifteen minutes and 42 seconds.” It was then that Suga noticed he’d gotten a text from his best friend letting him know he was going to be a little later than expected on account of his job.

When the timer went off you both headed back into the kitchen and Suga was just about to take the veggies out of the oven when his doorbell rang, making him swear under his breath at the timing.

“You want me to get the door?” you offered.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all!”

Suga thanked you as you headed for the foyer. Smiling, you opened the door to find a handsome guy with brown shoulder-length hair towering over you, his girlfriend judging by the way they had their arms around each other, as well as another male who was closer to your height with a sharp grin on his face.

Before you could say anything the significantly shorter male spoke up. “Hey, you must be y/n!”

You answered in the affirmative and he introduced himself. “I’m Yuu, but everyone calls me Nishinoya. Or Nishi. Or Noya.”

“Nishi!” the taller guy said.

“The impatient giant here is Asahi,” Nishinoya continued, “and this is his girlfriend, (name).”

You all exchanged pleasantries as you made your way inside to join Suga, with whom hugs and fist bumps were shared.

“So the old team captain isn’t here yet, hm?” Asahi asked Suga.

The host shook his head. “He texted earlier and said he was gonna be a little late.”

Putting two and two together, you said, “Oh, right! Suga told me that you guys played volleyball together in high school?”

“Yeah, he was the team mom, always cheering us on and talking sense into us when we needed it,” Nishinoya said.

“Which was often,” the former vice-captain mumbled as he tipped his drink to his lips.

You ignored Suga’s smartass remark and spoke to Noya’s statement instead. “Sounds about right,” you teased, playfully poking Suga in the side as you helped him make drinks for everyone.

At Asahi’s request, you explained how you’d become friends with the host. Suga’s former teammates laughed and took turns telling you about his mischievous ways, especially in volleyball club. Asahi’s girlfriend was a little shy at first but she warmed up, laughing as the guys reminisced about their glory days.

“Okay, literally the only thing I know about volleyball is that you rotate and try to hit a ball over a net,” you confessed. “Like human ping pong.”

“Actually, tennis is more like ping pong,” Nishinoya pointed out. “Volleyball is way more badass than that!”

Just as you laughed at the former libero’s emphatic correction, another ring of the doorbell came. Suga answered it and less than a minute later a very loud voice came barreling down the short corridor. Nishinoya and Asahi looked at each other and no sooner than they flatly said “Ryu”, a slim guy with a buzzed head and sharp eyes appeared in the dining room with his hands in the air yelling, “The Tanakas are here! Let the party begin!” He was followed by his stunning wife, whose name you would soon learn was Akira.

“We come bearing booze!” she slurred, an already tipsy woman after your own heart. “Now which one of you beautiful people is going to help me bring this shit inside?”

“I will!” you exclaimed with a smile wide enough to light up the room as you shuffled towards her. “You can never have too much!”

“Great fucking minds!” Akira proclaimed, her face lighting up as well.

“There goes the damn neighborhood!” Suga shouted as the two of you frolicked out the door while introducing yourselves.

Having Nishinoya and Ryu in the same room tripled the noise volume but everyone was nearly in tears now that another former Karasuno volleyball player was in on the storytelling, especially with his riotous wife’s witty commentary.

Not long after they arrived, a fresh round of drinks were being poured when the doorbell rang yet again. You shooed Suga back to the kitchen, oblivious to his half-hearted attempt to beat you to it in the first place.

You were laughing at Akira’s rendition of her husband’s latest knucklehead moment. But you fell silent when you swung the door open to find a pair of big brown eyes, warm like melted chocolate, looking back into yours. A lifetime of conversations seemed to pass between you in a matter of seconds.

Whoever he was stood there in his grey pullover and dark khaki cargo pants looking finer than a man should be allowed to. His energy enveloped you along with his scent as a perfectly timed breeze flowed in behind him.

“Uh, hi. Can I come in? It’s kinda cold out here.”

“Oh.” You stepped aside. “O-of course! I’m so sorry.”

His voice was deep and rich with an understated commanding tone, one that you surmised would sound particularly sexy murmuring sweet nothings and dirty thoughts in your ear.

His crooked, boyish grin reached his milk chocolate eyes. “It’s fine. Don’t mind,” he said as he stepped in beside you. He closed the door behind himself and took his shoes off.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Daichi,” he said, extending his hand.

You slid your hand into his, warm and strong, and replied, “Pleased to meet you, Daichi. I’m y/n.”

Suga had been secretly spying on you from the kitchen, leaning against the countertop while laughing with the unassuming Ryu and Nishinoya at the appropriate moments. Now he watched with quiet delight as you and Daichi walked in from the foyer together. He was right - the two of you would make a sickeningly cute couple, and for a moment he had a vision of you walking down the aisle together.

“Daichi!” Suga called out when his best friend looked at him, pretending he hadn’t noticed him before. The other former Karasuno team members all greeted him with shoulder punches and man hugs.

Of course, Ryu couldn’t help but give his former team captain a little grief. “Took you long enough, man. Even I beat you here!”

“Only because Akira here probably lit a fire under your ass!” Daichi jeered as he side-hugged the nodding female in question.

“And what a sweet ass it is,” she quipped, reaching over to pinch her husband’s butt.

Suga approached Daichi, smiling before punching him in the chest. “Good to see you, bro!”

Daichi clutched his chest and coughed. “Sorry, man, got a DV call from dispatch right before the end of my shift. By the time I got done with all the paperwork, I was running an hour behind.”

You knew all too well what ‘DV’ meant, putting everything together rather quickly.

“Oh…” You felt a riptide within you; one that drew you closer to Daichi, but at the same time pulled you away. “You’re Suga’s cop friend!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Daichi answered in his smooth, silky voice with a crooked grin.

Oh, gods help you. You were at once smitten and repelled by him. Smitten because of who he was; repelled because of what he did for a living. The commanding presence made sense now.

“Oh, right! You two haven’t been introduced yet!” Suga exclaimed, the sneaky bastard feigning ignorance. “Y/n, this is Daichi. He’s been my best friend since high school,” he said before turning to said best friend. “Daichi, this is y/n. We’ve only known each other for a couple months, but she’s basically me with a vagina!” This earned him a playful slap to the chest, though he wasn’t wrong.

The laughter in the next room reached a new, raucous height and Suga’s name was called. He looked between you and Daichi and said, “Excuse me while I go tend to the children.” He shuffled away, leaving you and Daichi alone together.

“Do you drink? I’ll get something for you,” you offered.

There was that boyish smile again, making you curse inwardly at the way your heart leapt every time he looked at you.

“No, thank you, ma’am. I’ll get it myself,” he said, moving around the kitchen like he knew it by heart. He went right to the place where Suga kept his drinking glasses, taking one out and placing it on the countertop before turning to the liquor cabinet. “Suga said you helped him with all the cooking and everything. Why don’t you go take a seat and relax?” He flashed you another crooked grin.

“Yeah, y/n, Daichi spends so much time here, he’s even got his own private whiskey stash,” Suga added, sauntering into the kitchen again.

“And by stash he means one bottle,” the dark-haired male said as he poured two fingers neat.

You were snickering at their brotherly banter when Nishinoya called out for you. “Come check this out! Ryu’s got some old team pictures on his phone!”

“Oooh! I have to see this!” you said, scurrying into the dining room where the former Karasuno wing spiker’s phone was being passed around.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Suga almost laughed at the way his best friend sidled up to him, drink in hand, and murmured, “Suga, you dog! A couple of months? You’ve been holding out on me!”

“She’s not my date,” Suga said smugly. “We’re just friends.”

Daichi gave Suga a look of deep concern. “Why? She’s fucking gorgeous!”

“Believe me, we tried.”

Daichi narrowed his eyes at his friend. “What do you mean you tried?” He wasn’t too keen on the idea of having his best friend’s sloppy seconds.

“We kissed once just to see if we could be more than friends, but no. Just…no. Seriously, we’re just too much alike.”

Daichi blinked. “Y-you mean…? Is she single?”

Suga’s smug grin persisted when he closed his eyes and nodded his head. “She sure is. You like her?”

Daichi watched and admired your beauty as you laughed and aww’ed at the pictures from their high school volleyball days.

Suga slapped him on the back as he pushed off the counter. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

From the photos you could tell that, even when he was 17, Daichi looked like an adult. So did Asahi for that matter. But even then Daichi had an aura about him that said he was in charge. And Suga was so stinking cute you almost cried. They hadn’t changed much in the 10 years since.

During dinner you sat across from Daichi, who made eye contact with you several times, especially when you laughed. The guys took turns telling you about their respective positions back at Karasuno, but Daichi was the one who took the most time to explain the game mechanics to you. To most people, that would probably be boring, but Daichi had a way of making it interesting. The fact that he was so handsome didn’t hurt, especially when you focused on his lips as they moved. Even his former teammates, who knew the game all too well, got sucked into their former leader’s easy-to-understand but also very accurate way of explaining the game of volleyball, occasionally chiming in to drive a point home or tell another story.

After everyone had finished eating, you all sat around the table and talked for a while before the Tanakas announced their departure. Nishinoya, Asahi, and his partner left not too long afterwards.

And then there were three.

You and Daichi insisted on helping Suga with the clean-up, which didn’t take very long with all of you tag-teaming tasks. You chatted with them for a few more minutes, but it was getting late.

“Well, guys, it’s been real and it’s been fun, but I gotta get back home. I’m wiped out,” you said, dragging the back of your hand across your forehead.

“Y/n, thank you so much for helping. I couldn’t have done all this without you,” Suga said, hugging you.

Hugging him back, you smiled and said, “You’re so welcome, Suga. It’s been my pleasure.”

With his arms crossed over his wide chest, Daichi lifted his chin at you and said, “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

You opened your mouth, but your grey-haired friend jumped in with suspicious enthusiasm. “She’s been drinking since 6:20!”

You gawked at Suga, a satisfied grin plastered across his smarmy face. “Did you just tattle-tell on me?”

Daichi looked from Suga to you, pursed his lips, and raised his eyebrows. “You don’t need to drive. You can either stay here with Suga or I’ll give you a ride home tonight.” You pouted and Daichi shrugged. “Or I can take you to the drunk tank.”

“You know what, the drunk tank sounds like fun, why don’t you take me there?” you said, smiling.

Daichi chuckled. “I think you’ve had enough fun for one night. I’d rather take you home.” He caught himself right after he’d got the words out, Suga already snickering. “I meant like ‘make sure you make it home okay’. Pervert,” he said, ribbing Suga.

Your laugh lingered on your lips when you offered your wrists to him and said, “Well, since you put it that way, Officer Sawamura,” making his soft cock twitch in his pants and his cheeks tinge with pink.

Embarrassed a little he scratched the back of his head while looking away. “I don’t think handcuffs are going to be necessary. I don’t have them on me anyway.”

“What if I resist arrest? How would you restrain me?”

Suga was an absolute mess on the inside, trying to keep it together. You and Daichi were so pleasantly lost in banter that neither of you noticed when he strategically walked away to pretend to dry dishes.

The dark-haired police officer smirked and said, “I…really shouldn’t answer that. I plead the fifth.”

Now your cheeks became visibly warm. “Then how about you show me instead?”

Suga nearly choked on his spit, but kept his back turned as he dried the same plate he’d been drying for two minutes straight.

Daichi’s smirk spread into a full grin as he shook his head, laughing quietly. Leaning with his back against the countertop he gestured with his hand and said, “Sure.”

Your heart skipped a million beats.

“Turn around and walk away from me,” he commanded, nodding to indicate the direction.

You smiled and did as he said. Your right foot had barely lifted to take your first step when Daichi looped his strong hands around your wrists, one then the other. It didn’t take much force for him to cross your arms behind your back and hold them together with one hand while he stood so close behind you that his chest rubbed your shoulder.

You gasped. “Wowww…That was fast!” You looked over your shoulder at him. “But what if I struggle?”

“Go ahead,” he dared, the heat of his breath caressing your ear.

Suga cleared his throat dramatically. “Do I need to give you two some privacy?” he said, grinning his most mischievous grin.

Daichi let go of you and straightened up as if he’d forgotten Suga was even there. Damn, you were getting to him.

“Alright,” Daichi said, “let’s get going. You ready?”

You nodded and followed him to the door, stopping in the foyer to put your shoes on. Daichi opened the door for you as you waved goodbye to your friend and walked outside. When Daichi turned around to close the door, Suga winked at him while making a lewd gesture, earning him a death stare from his long-time friend.

ch. 1 ☆ ch. 3

31 days of daichi mlist | main daichi mlist | haikyuu mlist

☆ taglist: @chaoskrakenuwu @yuujispinkhair @luvkun4 @briokayama @mrs-sawamura @heroesfan101 @lanaxians-2 @darthferbert @a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @cookiesandmilksx @strawberrystepmom @maexc @little-ms-awkward @samkysnks @anejuuuuoy @productivity-blogs ++ get added

[rjjameshiii]

RJ's Platinum Collection #12: Stray

Achieved on 10/5/2022 at 6:30 PM

Do you know how happy I was when I discovered Stray was available as a free monthly game on PS Plus?

EXTREMELY happy. I get to play as a CAT?

I didn't even hesitate to pick this game for my next platinum.

I decided to start my trophy journey off by playing the game blind and seeing what trophies I could get. And can I just say, the fact that this story starts off with a precious little kitty falling into a deep hole and ending up in an underground city is surprisingly heavy?

Anyway, entering the city got me my first trophy.

1/25: Missed Jump - Fall into the city.

And then I quickly got a second trophy because I abused the hell out of the button that made the cat meow.

2/25: A Little Chatty - Meow 100 times.

And then I met a robot friend who accompanied me on a journey to continue exploring the city populated by taller robots!

3/25: Not Alone - Meet B-12.

4/25: Cat Got Your Tongue? - Have B-12 translate a robot for the first time.

Ok, so I wasn't going in to this completely blind. I knew from one of my friends who played this game that there was a trophy for having the cat sleep for one entire real-life hour. So I decided to do that while I was in the Slums just to get it out of the way.

5/25: Productive Day - Sleep for more than one hour.

And then I continued through my blind playthrough, this time being completely surprised by all of the trophies I got as me and B-12 journeyed to reach the surface and free the robots trapped in the city - and get the cat home once and for all.

6/25: Tele A Chat - Browse through all the TV channels.

7/25: Cat-a-Pult - Jump 500 times.

8/25: Curiosity Killed The Cat - Wear the paper bag.

9/25: No More Lives - Die nine times.

10/25: Cat-a-strophe - Try to play mahjong with two robots.

11/25: Catwalk - Reach Midtown.

12/25: Al-Cat-Raz - Go to jail.

13/25: Eye Opener - Complete the game and open up the city.

Now with the game finished I started doing clean-up, starting with me deciding to get the trophy for completing the first Zurk chase sequence without getting caught. This trophy was VERY difficult but I eventually managed to get it after about 20-30 tries.

14/25: Can't Cat-ch Me - Complete the first Zurk pursuit without being caught.

Then I returned to the Slums level and decided to bring all of the music sheets hidden throughout the neighborhood to a robot musician named Morusque. There are eight total music sheets, and I also got two other miscellaneous trophies while I was in this area.

15/25: Boom Chat Kalaka - Dunk the basketball.

16/25: Meowlody - Bring all the music sheets to Morusque.

17/25: Cat's Best Friend - Nuzzle up against 5 robots.

After that I got the two other "challenge" trophies out of the way. These were completing the Sewers level without killing any Zurks with the flashlight weapon, which took me a few tries, and the one for completing the ENTIRE Midtown level - including the entire factory sequence AND sneaking into Clementine's apartment - without getting spotted by a single Sentinel. That one was much harder, but I did eventually manage to do it.

18/25: Pacifist - Complete the Sewers without killing any Zurks.

19/25: Sneakitty - Go through Midtown without being detected by the Sentinels.

After getting that trophy, I decided to continue on to the nightclub so I could get one more miscellaneous trophy.

20/25: Scratch - Scratch the vinyl in the club.

And then I realized that I needed all the badges, to scratch something in each chapter, and to finish collecting all of B-12's memories. However, I could not remember what chapters I had or hadn't scratched in, so I decided to just play the entire game all the way through one more time to get those three trophies.

21/25: Badges - Collect all badges.

22/25: Territory - Scratch something in every chapter.

23/25: I Remember! - Gather all B-12 memories.

And finally, I had one trophy left. I absolutely detest speedrun trophies, but luckily I found a YouTube video that basically gave me a step-by-step guide on how to finish the game in the time limit. It still took me about three tries, but I was able to finish the game in 1 hour and 46 minutes, getting me my last trophy and then the Platinum!

24/25: I Am Speed - Complete the game in less than 2 hours.

25/25: All Done - Unlock all trophies.

Like several of the games I have gotten platinums for, Stray is not very long, but my goodness is it fun. The cat is really great to play as, and I think the story is heartwarming. All cat lovers should get the platinum for Stray!

Rating: 10/10

[subjectively-objective]

Arcana 99 - Ch. 1

Day One: A Biological Impossibility

What is this? Next

Of course, I had heard of the Grenfell-Maxwell Marathon. Everyone with an ear to hear knew of the newly legendary event. Its advertising campaigns had been constant and obnoxious, and the race's host produced as much press as the affair itself. Mr. Grenfell came onto the world stage in March of 1950 with a sail of millions at his back. Nothing was known of the man except for his origin from the Asian portion of the Commonwealth, and that he and his wealth had one desire: to witness a race around the planet.

Shortly after his debut, every radio, television set, and Movietone reel spoke of Grenfell's financially suicidal plan. The man offered fifty-thousand dollars for the first-place winner of each stage of the race and half the previous for the next four placements; furthermore, he promised one-thousand dollars for everyone else who even crosses the line.

In a Meet the Press interview, Mr. Grenfell addressed concerns of whether any participants in the race would want to compete after the first leg, especially since he kept the route of all subsequent stages of the race a secret.

"You see," He said, "On top of the chance of earning upwards of one million dollars through stage prizes alone, I am offering a further incentive for completing the entire race," He paused for a moment, an obvious ploy to make the next sound bite easier to isolate, "The first three people to finish the race will each receive the greatest reward imaginable, a wish."

I needed to hear no more after that. Within the hour I had exchanged my airline ticket for a first-class voucher aboard the MS Vulcania. On May twenty-ninth, 1954, the ship departed Naples, and it arrived in New York fourteen days later. From there, I had almost twelve days to reach the Utah salt flats.

I took my time. No use in wasting my energy to reach the starting line. I arrived at the flats on June twenty-fourth at 4 A.M, eight hours before the race began. I paid the fifty-dollar entrance fee, rolled my bike to my allotted position, and waited. By eleven, every spot around me was filled with other competitors and every inch of the salt flat was covered with countless people and vehicles.

To my left was famed pilot Jacqueline Santos-Dumont and her custom-built plane, a faithful recreation of the ill-fated Martin M-130. Equipped with more powerful engines and wheels for ground landings, the pilot and her plane were the competitors favored to win.

In front of me was a woman on horseback. Upon seeing her I couldn't help but laugh. The first leg of the race was an almost 4,000-kilometer journey through deserts and jungles. It would take any automobile days to complete whereas a horse would take weeks at the very least if it didn't injure itself along the way. A race official approached the woman, presumably to explain to her that there was no way a horse could win.

I tore my eyes away to continue observing those around me. To my right was a large semi-truck whose driver was conversing with a young woman. I couldn't hear their words over the countless others around me. I was, however, able to read the driver's lips. He spoke French.

Behind me was a destitute jalopy that looked an hour away from becoming a Texan lawn ornament. The four people in the vehicle were all yelling obscenities to the other racers around them. The Frenchmen in the truck ignored the insults and Mrs. Dumont didn't even leave her plane.

Right, the plane.

If I ever wanted to stand a chance in this race, Dumont needed to lose. I had spent the last seven hours observing the plane and checking for weak points. The easiest ones to hit were the fuel lines connecting the two starboard engines of Dumont's vessel. I repositioned my bike to get a better view of them and pantomimed the movements to ensure they were even possible given my position and condition.

First, reach into the holster on my belt. Next, draw while hiding the pistol from the Frenchman's truck (the people behind me seemed too oblivious to worry about). Then, aim and fire at the line as soon as the race begins. The engines around me will mask the gunshot. I held my left arm up and aimed it at the plane. It was barely three meters away; one, maybe two shots were all that would be needed.

"Sir," a voice interrupted my thoughts, and I quickly rested my arm on my bike's handlebars, "where is your partner?"

Partner?

I must have said that thought out loud because the woman sighed and continued, "Yes. 'Partner,' as in the partner every participating team is required to have."

TEAM!?

I knew that I had not spoken that thought, but the woman gave another sigh, this time much more exasperated, "Did anyone actually read the damn ad?"

There was more information than "Race at the Bonneville Salt Flats on June 24, winner gets a wish"?

"To ease the liability of the race away from Mr. Grenfell and Mr. Maxwell, and for the safety of our competitors, you are required to have a two-person team at the least throughout the entire event."

My hopes of salvation shattered before my eyes. I didn't have time to ask any of my contacts to join me, and it was unlikely they would even respond. While there was certainly another person who failed to notice the rule, there were hundreds of thousands of people here, finding them would be near impossible. Joining another team was off the table as well, I would just be a cut in their pay.

Maybe those guys behind me would be dumb enough to agree.

I looked back at them. Despite the heat, they were wearing thick dusters and one was wearing a poncho on top of his duster. The one in the poncho sat behind the wheel and downed an entire bottle of alcohol while the others repeatedly kicked the hood of their vehicle.

Nevermind.

"Luckily for you, I just met another competitor who failed to read the rules," I smiled as my hopes reassembled themselves, "I just need you to sign your name as being a part of their team before the race begins."

It didn't matter who my new teammate was. It could be the stupid jockey for all I cared. A chance at success, no matter how small, was infinitely better than not trying. I leaped to my feet and reached for the paper with my right-

Right.

I reached for the paper with my left arm and slowly wrote my name down. It was barely legible given my lack of practice, but it was good enough for the official, "Thank you," she said, handing me a piece of paper, "Your teammate is directly in front of you, and please read the damn rules before the race starts."

I looked at the piece of paper she had given me. The top of it read, "Ruling Code of Operations for the Grenfell-Maxwell Marathon."

Ruling Code of Operations? What kind of nonce phrase is that?

The rest of the paper was an ordinary rule book that went as follows:

To enter the race, one needs to be in a team of at least two people.

Teams do not have to be together throughout the entirety of the race, but every member of a team must cross the finish line together or they will be disqualified.

Every team that crosses the finish line of a stage will receive a cash prize for each member that crosses the line (amounts on back).

The first three teams to cross the final stage line will receive a set number of wishes (this amount is independent of team size).

Note that this course will be perilous and accidental deaths may occur as a result.

If any members of your team perish during a stage their body(ies) must be brought over the stage finish and handed to Grenfell-Maxwell official race investigators to determine the cause of death. If the cause is proven to be truly accidental, then the team is awarded the money they would have received if each member was alive and is then allowed to continue. If the cause of death is foul play, the suspect will be removed from the race and placed into the custody of local authorities.

If every member of a team but one dies, then the sole surviving member must either a) forfeit the race or b) join another team.

In the event of a loss of an entire team in one stage, monetary compensation will be sent to next-of-kin.

Participation in the Grenfell-Maxwell Marathon requires a $50 USD entry fee. This fee is used to ensure that each team is registered and accounted for in the event of their untimely demise.

Just how dangerous is this race supposed to be? Half the rules are about death!

The remainder of the paper contained simple rules of "don't commit crimes in the places the race goes through." What was perhaps most interesting was that it only made one mention of cheating, "There is no such thing as cheating in this race. Victory cannot be achieved through speed alone; strategy and observation will be required as well. The only ways to be disqualified are: 1) be jailed by local governments for proven crimes. 2) Fail to provide bodies of dead team members at stage finish line. 3) Compete without at least one teammate."

No such thing as cheating? Well, Mrs. Demont, it appears that you've lost this race.

After reading the paper I placed it into the rear storage case of my bike. It was almost 11:50; time to meet my teammate. The woman said they were the competitor right in front of me which makes them. . .

I watched helplessly as my dreams shattered once again and a single metaphorical tear flowed down my cheek and pushed my real one a little further down.

I know I said I didn't care if it was the jockey, but that was before I knew it was the jockey.

I reluctantly walked towards her and introduced myself. She stopped brushing her horse, looked at me, and held out her right hand, "I'm Etteilla Laveau."

"France?" I asked, holding out my left hand.

She looked at my outstretched arm, then her own, then me. We shook our left hands, "Actually I'm from Australia. The French name is just a. . . thing. You?"

"Greece."

"Huh, I thought that name was Italian." She glanced at the sky and mounted her horse, "We've got two minutes left, get on."

I glanced at my watch, 11:58, and pointed to my bike "I was going to say the same thing."

She laughed, loudly, "I'm sure you'll be fine now, but once we get to anywhere even remotely remote, your bike'll run out of fuel and become dead weight."

I had reached my motorcycle and put on my helmet when I replied to her, "If you said that about any other bike, I'd agree with you, but mine is different. Your horse on the other hand. . . It may not need gas, but a horse just can't compete with a machine, no matter how good the rider is."

She turned away from me as the clock struck 11:59, "If you said that about any other horse, I'd agree with you, but we are different." I sighed.

After I take out Dumont, I'll keep ahead of Etteilla. When night comes and her horse is a hundred miles behind me it'll be obvious that she needs to ditch it. Then I just need to bring the horse to Clint and have him build me a sidecar. After that, it would just be trying to make up for lost time.

I ran through my plan of action one more time. I had reached the final step when the ground darkened. I looked up. Above me was a massive grey oval causing a micro-eclipse where I was sitting, a zeppelin.

I guess Dumont's not the only threat. Where did they even-

My thoughts were interrupted by a deafening noise. It came from an old air-raid siren that had been moved to the salt flats, "Greetings!" A static-filled voice clawed its way out of the siren and echoed throughout the air, "The Grenfell-Maxwell Marathon will begin shortly, so get ready! After this announcement, we will fire a gun to signal the start of the race. From there you will all head South towards the finish line in Flores, Guatemala. Once you arrive the next leg of the race will be revealed. So, get ready to, as the Romans would say, Somnia Circum Mundum!" The silence following the race's pseudo-Latin slogan was strange, anxious. Everyone knew it was temporary, but every second it lasted was a second we weren't getting closer to victory. Even the fools behind me stopped drinking and shouting as they too waited. Finally, a gunshot came out of the siren. No, not a gunshot, a cannon. A cannon that became a meteoric impact as the tide of vehicles screamed to life.

I waited a moment for the Frenchman's truck to begin crawling ahead, it never did. I glanced at the idiots behind me, their car hadn't even started.

Good god, how bad are these people?

The engines on Dumont's plane whirred to life; she was preparing to lift off even as hundreds of cars weaved around her.

That's why everyone thinks she'll win.

I quickly reached into my holster, pulled out my pistol, and fired. The first shot was a close miss, the second barely touched the line, the third fully cut through.

This would be much easier if I held the gun with two hands.

As I watched the black gold leak from the wing, I holstered my gun and weaved through the throng of people. I glanced back to see if I had passed the jockey, but I couldn't find her through the dust kicked up by the other racers. I pulled my transistor radio out of the storage case behind me. I tuned it to the race announcements station, put the earpiece in, and placed the radio into my pocket.

"I'm certain I'd say that we are off to a great start if I could see anything." The announcer laughed at his own joke far more than he should have, "The dust picked up by our eager racers has made everything but that great marvel of German engineering, the Graf Zeppelin, completely invisible. The zeppelin appears to be moving at a leisurely pace, no doubt because of winds brought by the people below." I pushed past another wave of people. My motorcycle's engine was barely trying but considering the whole "cheating is fine" rule, it was best to not reveal its true capabilities this early, "Any minute now we should be seeing Jacqueline Santos-Dumont and her plane Fizz Vin. We interviewed her about this name early today and she said 'I was greatly inspired by the trans-continental flight of the Vin Fizz when I was younger, but unlike the original Fizz, I am not going to crash and rebuild. I'm just going to soar.' What an inspiration she is. Now, we have a few more interviews recorded in case this dust cloud stays up for a while longer, so let's move onto our interview with Mr. Kober and his. . ." The announcer's voice trailed off.

Hopefully, it's good news like "Everyone but me is disqualified."

"Someone's broken ahead! A racer has launched far ahead of the pack! Almost a mile now! Who is it! Who is it!" He was silent for a moment, "It's competitor 230545, Etteilla Laveau! The horseman Etteilla Laveau has broken ahead!"

"Laveau?" I muttered, "No way," I glanced at my speedometer, it read 60mph. Horses couldn't run 50. I gunned the engine and sped past the frontline of the crowd. The last wave of dust whipped past my head and left behind a clear sky. Ahead of me was a single figure streaking across the flat land. That person was two miles away, but even from that distance, it was plain to see. She was on a horse.

"How! How! H-how?" The announcer's enthusiasm quickly faded as the realization set in, "Just, just what is that horse!"

Wrong. The horse is just a horse, but her. . .

She is Etteilla Laveau, and this race is where she makes her greatest mistake.

Next

[darwin-xf]

Vox Mulder; Ch. 1...

“Scully.”

Usually she answered her home phone with the more customary “Hello.” It had been a long week, though—one of many in a series of long weeks—and she’d yet to slough off her work manners.

“Hey Scully,” Mulder said. “Guess where I am?”

“Let’s see,” she said, making her way into her kitchen. “An hour ago you were next to me finishing up an expense audit. Then I looked up and-Poof!-you were gone. My guess is, the ether.”

“Incorrect.”

“The woodwork?”

“Actually, that’s very close. Didn’t mean to ditch you. You were tied up on the phone and I had an appointment.”

“Not a big deal.” she said. “It *was* five o’clock.” She’d never been one to crack jokes, but she couldn’t resist the occasional opportunity to needle Mulder. She took a water glass down from her cupboard and began running the tap.

“How did it end?” Mulder asked. “I’m breathless. On what did we spend $36.48 in the third fiscal quarter of last year?”

“First aid supplies. Gauze, ace bandages, a finger splint, aspirin, and Tylenol 3.”

“Ah, there’s some memories right there. We should bill the New Spartans. They can withdraw it from their ‘Anarchy & Mayhem’ fund. Assholes.”

“I never got all the details on that.”

“We have our whole lives, Scully. I’ve got to save some material with which to entertain you in our dotage. You don’t want me to start repeating myself.”

She wanted to laugh lightly, but his comment had knocked her off balance. Did he think neither one of them was ever going to retire? She stayed quiet.

“Thanks for finishing up the audit. Those things used to take me weeks to do. BS, that is.”

“BS?”

“Before Scully.”

“Huh. Well, someone has to do it.”

“I was not recruited for my clerical skills.”

“And I was?”

“Of course not, Scully. I’m just trying to thank you.”

Ok then. Scully dropped two ice cubes into her water and untucked her once crisp white dress shirt from her suit skirt, the phone trapped between her ear and shoulder.

“All right, Mulder, I’ll bite. Where are you?”

“Doctor’s office.”

“You feeling ok?” she asked.

“No, but I’m not sick.”

“Who doesn’t love a riddle, Mulder?”

“I’m at Dr. Parenti’s clinic, actually.”

Oh. That doctor’s office. “Great,” Scully said, trying and failing to cover anxiety and awkwardness with cheer. “How did it go? Did he answer your questions?”

“I didn’t have many. You were pretty thorough in letting me know what to expect.”

“Did you complete the paperwork?”

“Earlier this week. It took two hours. Who memorizes the height, build, blood type, and health history of each and every relative? I had to call my mom three times.”

So that was where he’d disappeared to after lunchtime Monday. Not that she’d been keeping tabs. Scully laid her suit jacket carefully over the back of a chair, took a big swig of her water, and collapsed into her sofa.

She was still on light duty between cases, still recovering from her misadventure in New York with Agent Peyton Ritter. Their most recent case, which involved murders where the hearts had been mysteriously and unaccountably extracted from victims’ bodies, had been unusually draining. It had been unsettling in more subtle ways, too.

The irony of light duty was how exhausting it felt to her. The more tedious and meaningless the work, the more it fatigued her. She propped her feet up on the coffee table.

“Did you tell your mom why you were asking?”

“Nah. She didn’t remember much. She’s not all that curious anyway.”

Sounded like his mother. When it came to Teena, Scully had to be careful in Mulder’s company not to telegraph her otherwise open scorn.

“Thanks for taking care of that Mulder. When will you go back to, uh, give a sample?”

“I’m still here. That’s up next.”

“Today?” Scully said, trying to keep the startle out of her voice.

“Time’s a wastin’,” Mulder said.

“Makes sense. You’re there anyway.”

“Yep.”

“Should I, uh, let you get going with that then?” Scully asked. Her voice seemed to have acquired a tiny squeak.

“That’s why I called. Unfortunately, I’ve hit a snag. I’m in one of the donation rooms. Have you ever been back here?”

“No. I’ve only seen the waiting room and the exam room.”

“I gotta admit, I’m not finding the atmosphere especially conducive to the task at hand.”

“So to speak,” she said.

“So to speak.”

“And why not?”

“Where to start? Let me paint you a picture, Scully. A windowless room only slightly larger than the broom closet across the hall from our office. The cheap linoleum flooring is cracked and yellowing. The furniture looks as though it’s been pilfered from a bus station.”

“Molded plastic,” Scully said. “Very chic. I’m sure that’s preferable to upholstery, though, given the purpose of the room?”

“Granted. But wait, there’s more. A pile of tacky magazines on a lopsided end table. There’s a VCR with a couple of lame tapes stacked on top. One of them is actually titled ‘Rockin’ ‘Ricans.’ I’m not normally one to object to porn on grounds of political correctness, but doesn’t that strike you as racist, Scully?”

“It does,” she said.

“Worst of all, there’s a post-it that reads ‘out of order’ over the tape slot.”

“Oh no,” Scully said with genuine concern.

“When I say tacky magazines, not only am I referring to the taste level, but also to the condition. Most of them are dog-eared, dated, and... sort of sticky.”

“Ewww.” Scully didn’t want to reinforce his apprehension, but what a nasty image.

“Not that I’ve touched them.”

“C’mon Mulder, you’ve got intrepid fingers.”

“And how would you know, Scully?”

“What I mean is, I’ve seen you swipe at many a vile looking unidentified oozing substance. Once you even tasted it.”

“That was because I wanted to identify it! Cases don’t solve themselves Scully. It’s part of the work.”

“Okay,” she said. “I hear you.” The volume and timbre of Mulder’s voice tended to serve as a rough metric for his anxiety. He had been particularly serene all week, available for her to lean on in the wake of the Padgett debacle. But his voice had been steadily rising since their conversation began.

“Any oozing substance I’d find in here I sure as hell wouldn’t taste. Not to judge anyone who would.”

“Of course not,” Scully said. Especially if the substance in question was his own, Scully mused. He probably would encourage tasting, in that instance. She was speculating, of course.

“I have my limits.”

“That’s good to know, Mulder. But in my experience, that office has been immaculately clean. Don’t you think they sanitize the donation rooms between, uh, uses?”

“I thought about that. You’re a scientist. How would you go about sanitizing a magazine?”

“Mulder, listen. They gave you a sample cup, right, as they presumably do with the other men? That’s the whole point, if I’m not mistaken. Given that, the magazines should be relatively unscathed.”

“Have you ever seen a toilet seat in a men’s room Scully? Not everyone has good aim. And this cup is tiny. Like it’s been scaled down for the likes of Frohike.”

“Mulder, I’ve come to appreciate the charms of Melvin. But summoning his image in this context has got to be a step in the wrong direction.”

“Good point.”

“Unless there’s something between the two of you I should know about?”

“Funny stuff, Scully,” he said humorlessly. “And why did they put this room next to the staff break room? Separated by more of a divider than an actual wall, no less. The microwave chimes every few minutes and the whole place smells like scalded cup-o-soup with an undersmell of rubbing alcohol. The combination is nauseating.”

Undersmell? He certainly was overstimulated. Just not in the way he needed to be.

“As we speak, I can hear the nurses laughing uproariously. I can’t get the idea out of my head that they’ve carved a peephole and are watching my pathetic attempts. Just for yuks.”

“Are you, um, attempting, right now?” Scully said, trying to mask her alarm.

“No! Jesus Scully. I’m complaining. And pacing. Which ain’t easy given the cramped confines.” Then, glumly: “I gave it a shot a few minutes ago and got nowhere.”

“Look Mulder…”

“You want to know the very worst feature of this room?”

“Why not?” She said.

“They pipe in muzak, allegedly to relax you. Also to drown out the buzz of fluorescent lights and the heckling nurses, I suppose. I ask you Scully: What kind of pervert would enjoy jerking off to Pachelbel's Canon in D minor?”

Oh no. When that big bad beautiful brain of his got moving in the wrong direction, it could be a challenge to slow the roll. Scully tore her own mind from contemplating Newton’s First Law of Motion and how it could be applied to non-corporeal processes. He needed help.

[strawwritesfic]

Takeshi Yamamoto x Female!Reader: But Uh-Oh Those Summer Nights [Ch. 1]

Summary: “Summer lovin’ had me a blast / summer lovin’ happened so fast.”

Challenge: “10 Summer Events” by someone on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (Sexual humor; sexual dialogue; summer vacation; comedy; fluff; eccentric grandparents; Grease references; Takeshi & Hayato & Tsuna; Takeshi & Hayato & Tsuna & Reader; Reborn & Tsuna; Reborn & Reader; Original Character & Reader)

Pairings: Takeshi Yamamoto/Reader

Tag List: @imaginesfire​​

Notes: This was so bad, I actually wound up pretty much rewriting the whole chapter line-by-line anyway. Of course, this means there’s likely to be more typos, so don’t be shy about telling me you found something.

Master List

Chapter 1: Meeting

“Here we are, Miss.”

Your driver’s voice barely cut through the haze you found yourself in while sitting in the back of his car. The brain fog remained as you groggily gathered your belongings and the car slid to a smooth stop. Yawning, you stepped out into the thick heat of Japan with only the vaguest memory of the long flight and subsequent car ride that had deposited you just outside your grandmother’s house in Namimori. You’d hardly noticed your arrival before your driver left you there.

You felt strangely vulnerable without the car there to protect you. After all, you had never been to Japan before–had never really planned to visit– but when your parents had decided to go for a spur-of-the-moment second honeymoon, two months ago, no one had been able to look after you for the summer other than your father’s secluded Japanese mother.

All the time you’d spent sitting in one place to get here, and you still didn’t know what you were going to say to the grandmother you’d seen only a handful of times. You’d been very young then, too. And it wasn’t just her you worried about. What were you supposed to do in this strange country for the next month and a half? Sure, your father had taught you the language, but communication wasn’t the only problem you could foresee raising its ugly head.

Some of your fears, however, were relieved by the relatively normal-looking neighborhood that met your eyes. You heaved a sigh of relief before you looked at the paper with the address jotted down on it. This was indeed where your grandmother lived. 

But before you opened the gate, you looked behind yourself once more. Someone was watching you. Weren’t they? You could see no movement at all. After a moment or two of searching, you shrugged, got a better grip on your suitcase, and made your way up to the house.=

******

“Oh, I’m just so glad you decided to visit!” the small, silver-haired woman called over her shoulder as she bustled around the kitchen, making the tea you had not actually said you wanted. “We two girls will have such fun! We have so much to catch up on!”

You forced a smile as you took the steaming cup from her hands. Who on earth would want something so hot when just outside was even warmer? Even placing the mug on the table in front of you didn’t seem to get rid of the steam.

If your grandmother noticed your chagrin, she didn’t show it. She just shuffled over to the other side of the table to settle in. She grinned at you again, and you smiled back, though less enthusiastically than you had when you had entered the house roughly two hours ago.

“So,” she said, patting her thighs with the palms of her hands. “What are you planning on doing this summer?”

“Do?” you asked, bewildered.

“Well of course! I remember what it was like to be a girl your age. Surely you don’t want to spend the entire summer in the company of someone as old as your grandmother!”

Now your discomfort grew so great that you couldn’t help but squirm. You did not want to admit that you had thrown a bit of a snit about just that very aspect of being sent across the world for vacation. Your parents had refused to let you stay back home with one of your friends and had instead chosen to send you to a completely unfamiliar country. How were you supposed to make friends in a town full of strangers? But admitting that sounded rude without you so much as opening your mouth.

Your grandmother nodded as though she could hear your thoughts anyway. “You can’t expect me to get out and about as much as you would like. No, you need to get out there, make some friends, meet some boys!”

“I don’t know about that, Grandma,” you said weakly.

“Why, sure you do! Go to the park, or to get noodles, or something! Anything! It’s summer break here, too, you know, and kids your age will be crawling out of the woodwork.”

“Well…”

“Well, what? A bright kid like you, you’ll make friends like that!” She snapped her fingers. “And not being able to talk to them is no excuse. We’ve been speaking Japanese since you got here, and you haven’t had any trouble at all!”

“But what if–”

“No, no worrying. Worrying does not all you to act.” Your grandmother stood up, motioning for you to do the same. 

You did. 

Without warning and with surprising strength, the old woman pushed you toward and out the front door, then slammed it before you were able to turn around and step back inside. A snick indicated she’d locked you out.

“Grandma!” You banged on the door with one first. “Grandma! Let me back in!”

“No, not until you make some friends, [Name]!” 

With that, you heard her march away from the door. You hit the door once or twice more, but knew it was a futile effort. Your father had warned you that your grandmother could be quite adamant about the strangest things.

You were now outside in the sweltering heat, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and your socks. You could simply choose to sit down in the shade and wait until your grandmother came back to see if you had left, but you were unsure if she would be able to see you from another window, or if she even would let you back in when you clearly had refused to try.

Deciding that it was best to just get the attempt over with, you made your way down the sidewalk and back onto the street you had left mere hours before. As you left the gate, you looked around, scratching the side of your head. There were no kids here. Old people usually lived amongst other old people, didn’t they? 

Maybe you would have to go somewhere else to find people your own age to talk to. Your grandmother had not, after all, given you a curfew or any limitations to your wanderings. After looking both ways across the street, you chose one direction and set out that way, trying to ignore the way your shirt stuck to your skin and how each step turned your socks and even darker gray.

You saw no one. You heard no one. Either your grandmother had lied about the number of students milling around with no school to attend, of the entire population of Japan had agreed that it was too hot to bother with going outside. March and march and march you did. Only upon finding a shady spot against fence did you finally decide you’d given enough effort and needed to rest.

“Hey. What’re you doing out here alone?”

When had you closed your eyes? At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, you jumped about a foot in the air and opened those eyes to find your nose a mere two inches from that of a tall boy with messy dark hair, brown eyes, and the biggest smile you’d ever seen. 

He took a step back, still grinning and clearly without a care in the world as to how badly he’d scared you. Well, you thought your fright ought to be obvious enough. You were breathing heavily and looking at him like he was completely insane.

“So?” he asked.

“So what?” you replied.

“What’re you doing out here alone? It’s kinda hot to just be sitting there.” 

You frowned. He was taller than you by quite a bit, but he looked to be your age or around it. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. 

“My grandma locked me out until I found some friends,” you explained.

“Oh, are you new in town?” the boy asked, his smile never faltering. “You can play mafia with us!”

“Tch! Don’t invite strangers to join the family, baseball idiot! Besides, that’s the Tenth’s job!” said a new voice.

“Ahahaha, I didn’t think Tsuna would mind,” the boy in front of you said.

You inched to the side and saw that you were not as alone with the tall “baseball idiot” as you had originally thought. Two other boys stood behind him. One had shaggy silver hair; the other, an impressive bush of brown hair rising from his scalp. Upon closer examination, there appeared to be four of members of this group. The brunet had what appeared to be a baby wearing a suit and a hat perched on his shoulder.

“Anyway, I’m Takeshi Yamamoto,” the smiling boy said, his smile only widening when you looked him in the eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Um, [F Name] [L Name],” you said.

“She can play with us, right, Tsuna?”

The smallest of the boys eyed Yamamoto and opened his mouth to speak, but the baby on his shoulder answered first:

“Of course. We’re always looking for new family members.”

“Re-Reborn! Don’t just decide things like that!” the boy, Tsuna, stammered.

“See? It’ll be fun! Come on!” Yamamoto said as he returned his attention to you. Apparently he did not even consider the fact that people your age generally didn’t play “imagination games” a problem. 

The silver-haired boy made another “Tch!” sound and looked away. 

“This is Tsuna.” Yamamoto gestured toward the brunet. “He’s our “boss.” And this,” he motioned toward the other boy, “is Gokudera.”

Gokudera didn’t even bother to look at you. He merely kept his arms crossed and looked adamantly away from both you and Yamamoto.

“So come on! It’ll be fun! And then your grandma will let you back inside, right?”

You hesitated.

His cheerful smile never faltered. "Summer break is best spent with friends."

This time, you looked at the silver haired boy, still pointedly ignoring you, and grinned yourself. “You know what? I’d really like that.”

[kasienda]

Fanfiction Year in Review 2022

I fill this out every year. It’s become a bit of a tradition for me. Allows me to reflect on everything that I’ve written and kinda think about where I want to go next. And I like it better from the ask games because I don’t have to wait for asks to come in. ^_^

1 List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

Don’t You Know People Care? (Adrino oneshot)

When You Love Someone (Love Square oneshot Reveal)

Rite of Passage (Love Square multichapter)

Meddlesome Friends (Love Square + Meddling Nino oneshot)

I Needed You and You Weren’t There (Love Square onshot)

Restorative Justice (Core Five - Chloé POV - multichapter -features love square and friendship fairly prominently)

2 Number of words written: 

Written: 99,297

Published: 64,582

This number irritates me. It’s SO CLOSE to 100k and I just didn’t have time in the last few days to throw myself over the edge. And there’s a one shot that I think only needs about an hour of focused work. But I guess that’ll have to be a 2023 fic! Haha! BUT it’s also way higher than I thought it would be even if it’s less than half I what I wrote last year (and I published about a third of what I what I published last year). And that comparison is probably why it felt like I wasn’t writing much this year. But my 2019 numbers were almost exactly the same and I was SO EXCITED about how much I wrote that year. Which just goes to show comparison is bad! And when it comes to comparing myself to others I think I’ve internalized that years ago, but apparently I shouldn’t compare myself to myself either. Because I KNOW why I wasn’t able to write as much this year, and yet, I still wrote! And that’s amazing!! 

Those published numbers include four one shots, two multi chapters. And four multi chapter WIPs saw at least one update.

3 Your most popular fic:

Restorative Justice, which is bizarre. I started writing this one closer to the fandom peak three years ago. And at the time, this fic was my LEAST popular. Chapter 4 took me almost a year to get out. And then Chapter 5 did take more than a year, but when I posted chapter five I got a lot more attention here than on anything else I’ve written this year. It wasn’t a whole lot more than Ch 3 got when it was posted though.

4 Your personal fav:

It’s Still Right Behind You and I imagine it will keep being this one until I finish it. My goal was to finish it this year, but that didn’t even come close to happening. Last year, I managed to update this one pretty consistently each month. If I had maintained that pace THIS year, it would have been almost complete I think, but I don’t think I would have made it. It has about 14-16 updates left. So another year and some change? *crossing my fingers* But Restorative Justice is a close second because it is also deeply personal - just from a different aspect of my life, and I do have a few unpublished WIPs that I’m also super in love with that I hope I will get to share before too much time has passed. 

5 Your fav scene:

It’s so hard to pick a favorite!!

Okay, I loved the way Chapter four of Yin and Yang extended the same scene at the end of chapter three. The way Marinette’s and Adrien’s individual revelations dovetailed together at that moment was just so neat!

I’m also really really really proud of the When You Love Someone reveal oneshot (which wasn’t ACTUALLY a oneshot - this scene is from Right Behind You chapters 6 and 9). This oneshot was essentially a love square break up chapter, but what I love about it is how much love there is in it from beginning to end. How much they care for each other shines through every part of it. I made myself cry multiple times writing this scene, and I can sometimes still cry when I reread it.

6 A fic or scene that challenged you:

It’s all challenging right now, but let’s go with Restorative Justice. As mentioned already, it took me more than a year to update chapter five of this fic, but we did it 50 words at a time! 

7 A line of writing you’re proud of: 

“I’m right here” - from chapter 3 of Rite of Passage. Here it is with a tiny bit of context: 

“But that’s not the hard part.” 

“What’s the hard part?”

“He was my best friend, and I miss him so much.” Her voice broke on the last word and her face crumpled into wracking sobs. 

Adrien or not, he instantly pulled her into his shoulder, and held her while she cried herself out. He didn’t say anything. He knew that if he said anything at all, he’d tell her everything.

And he wasn’t sure how bad that would be. He couldn’t talk to Fu or even to Plagg for all that the kwami was six inches away as evidenced by the fact that the wedge of cheese had disappeared even though he had never laid eyes on the black kwami. 

“I just wish I knew what happened to him,” she said, her voice cracking.

The pain in her voice broke him.

“I’m right here,” he said softly, placing a kiss on the side of her head.

This scene also has fanart! - by @botherkupo (I’ve been reading that as brother kupo forever... oops!)

8 A comment that touched you: 

Look, I can never answer this question. There are too many. There are my regulars who have literally taken care of me this year as I struggled with moderate depression and then repeated illness (myself and my children). And there are the comments that let me know that something I wrote has an impact on them and that’s really neat.

An example from Rosalind2013 this past week on Restorative Justice:

This is one of my favorite stories now! Thank you so much for sharing!

I feel like I learned a lot. And I really enjoyed Chloe’s characterization here!

Really and truly, I think it’s often hard for us (or at least me) to think of “mean” people as being victims too. The things I learned are things that are going to alter how I interact with people going forward, and I really appreciate you taking the time to explain everything in your notes!

Like woah!! I’m floored and squealing!

9 Something that inspired your writing:

Honestly? Spite. Haha! I keep encountering takes or reading things that irritate me and that often inspires me to write a fic that does it the way I would want it to be in the world to counter that perspective. But most of the spite writing I’ve done this year has yet to come out. So hopefully, ya’ll get to benefit from that in 2023! :)

10 Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

Honestly, the fact that I wrote anything is kinda amazing. 2020 and 2021 were really good writing years for me (like insanely good), and it’s been frustrating to not be able to maintain that flow. I spent the first half of 2022 in a barely functional level of depression and the second half taking care of sick children. People keep telling me that I don’t have to feel pressured to write - that we all need to take breaks, and I don’t disagree. But writing for me has always been one of my biggest coping tools, and this year, it felt like I couldn’t rely on it and it always seemed like a bad sign to me when I wanted to write and had time, but couldn’t do it mentally or emotionally. Every time I think I’m back in my writing groove, my life explodes again. So here’s me wishing and hoping that things actually stay calm for like the whole next 12 months! (It’s likely a pipe dream, but one can hope).

11 Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I want to start making progress on Right Behind You again. I had a setback where I wrote a chapter and found it narratively redundant and scrapped the whole thing which was discouraging and made it hard to start again. And I really want to update each of my current unfinished WIPs at least once (hopefully more than once!), and get out some of these unpublished love square WIPs that I’ve been sitting on. (And maybe an Adrino one as well!!) Basically, I want to do all the writing! Haha!

But my main goal is really just to find my writing groove again to be able to use writing as a more reliable mental health support and creative outlet. Wish me luck!!

Happy New Year Everyone!! 

[annaphoenix1994]

Ch.109 - The Rileys - Part 1

Previous Chapter - Masterlist 1; Masterlist 2 - Next Chapter

First of the three-part leg of Simon and Kiera's honeymoon!

Author's Note: Again, I'm so sorry for such a late update. My life has been... a rollercoaster. Since my last update, it's unfortunate to say that things did not go as planned. After my final drop off in Colorado, I was desperate to get back to Montana so when I left northern Colorado, my truck broke down close to the Wyoming border with my horse in the trailer as well as my two dogs with me being stranded in the isolated part of northern Colorado. Luckily, I was able to get in touch with my USRider insurance, which covers a tow for both my truck and trailer as well as getting me and my horse somewhere safe until I could get back on the road. The closest shop that could see my truck was in Parker, Colorado, which is south of Denver, so it put me out of my way by three hours. I spent two days in a Super 8 and when I got the call that my truck was fixed, I had to dive into my savings to get it fixed and back on the road. With no new hauls coming back to Montana, I used the rest of my money for fuel to just get home. It took me nearly four days to get home due to a massive storm that came through Kansas and into Colorado the same day I left. To add more fuel to the fire, during my time on the road, I had completely forgotten that my power bill was linked to my debit card - the same debit card that I had to use to get fuel prior to my big trip, so in short my power had been off since July 18th. So not only did I come home to no power in a massive heatwave, I came home to everything in my fridge completely rotten, including a freezer full of beef I had processed last year from my farm. I don't want to ask for help because I'm stubborn and this is my problem I've gotten myself into, but I've contemplated on opening up my tips box on Tumblr as even a dollar helps me out, but to me, having a consistent reader base and constant support goes further than any dollar will, so I'm just grateful that you all love this story as much as I do. Long story put very short, I'm having to start all over again - literally. I really enjoy writing and I think about this story every day and adding to it, but please bear with me if things look sloppy. I know you guys are eager for my updates and I want to give my audience what they want, but it's just been hard these last few weeks and I'm just trying to get back on my feet and on track. 

I love you all. Thank you very much for reading. I hope to keep updating as soon as I possibly can! - A <3

Las Vegas, Nevada

"Love, I'm not joking: when we get out of this cab, I want you by my side at all times." 

"Aw, come on, babe. I won't go far," She giggled, her eyes glued to the massive structures that lined the Strip. "It'll be fun to get lost in a place like this." 

"I'm not having a runaway bride," He arched his brow. "Especially in a town like this."

"Will there be a punishment for an intense game of hide n' seek?" 

"Oh yes there will." He arched his brow.

"Hm, sounds like a rule I'd like to break..."

"Love, if I wanted to babysit, I would've brought Johnny." 

She laughed, "Bringing Johnny on our honeymoon? Having some extra thoughts there?" 

"Absolutely not." 

"Mhm... I think you are." 

"Those drinks on the plane have been teasing at you, yeah? Sounds like you're the one with additional thoughts that I should be worried about."

"No," She scoffed. "I love Johnny, but like a brother or a pet fish. I'd cry if I had to flush him down the toilet, but I definitely don't want to kiss him!" 

Simon couldn't help but laugh as he gazed out the window, seeing the hotel he had booked for two nights before their flight to Birmingham. "I'll take your word for it. We're here." 

"Where exactly are we going?" She giggled. 

"The hotel, love." 

"I know, but which one? There's thirty million in my eyesight." She exaggerated. 

"You said you wanted to go to Paris, right?" 

"I can't recall," She shrugged playfully before looking towards the Paris Las Vegas hotel. "Is that where we're going?" 

"I figured it was better than some cheap motel with complementary bed bugs and moth balls," He replied sarcastically, smirking when she playfully slapped his bicep, her eyes fixated on the many bright lights that made the Las Vegas Strip. "Besides, this place is better than Paris, France. Trust me." 

She laughed in agreement, "Oh, I know, babe. Paris in France isn't what it's cracked up to be. This is ten times better." 

"I'm glad I picked right, then," He nodded, exiting the cab once the driver had stopped at the front of the hotel, Simon offering his hand to her to help her exit the vehicle before he made his way to the trunk to grab the three duffel bags himself to keep Kiera from doing it. "Let's go check in while I still have you in my sight." 

"You should know I'm not going anywhere... yet," She giggled, swinging her purse over her shoulder. "Let me get one of those, Simon-"

"I got it." He replied sternly, letting her walk in front of him before the bellhop met him with a cart in the lobby, generously helping him set the bags down to help ease the strain from his shoulders. That lass is notorious for packing everything that can fit in this bloody thing, he huffed to himself. She's the reason I pack my own bag. He nodded graciously at the bellhop before making his way to the receptionist, keeping his new wife in his peripheral vision to reassure himself that her curiosity wasn't leading her down a path away from him, although a part of him knew she would easily become distracted. "Good evening, sir. Checking in for the evening?" 

"Yes, I made a reservation last week," He replied, pulling out his phone to show the receptionist his proof of reserve for two nights in his email's inbox. "Riley." 

She nodded, typing on her computer before the confirmation pulled up on her desktop, "Ah! There you are! Give me just one second and I'll print out this form for you to sign and your keycards. Do you have your I.D.?" 

As much as he hated showing strangers his identification card, he did it anyway after taking a long exhale to rid his mind of anxious thoughts, handing it to the receptionist and closely watching her as she keyed in his information for their records. "Alright, just sign this line here. Will you need just one or two keycards for your stay?" 

"Probably two. She'll lose it if we just have one." He said, nodding towards Kiera when she finally made her way to stand next to him at the counter after looking at the many decorations that filled the lobby. 

"I understand!" The receptionist giggled, retrieving the form he had just signed and putting it away in the file folder for their current check-ins and registering the keycards for their room. "You're all set for your stay! Just take the elevator down this hall to floor eighteen and take a right." 

"Thank you." Simon nodded, retrieving the keycards from her hand. 

"You're very welcome! Enjoy your stay! The bellhop is already in route to your room to deliver your bags!" 

He nodded, hating the fact that someone else that possession of his and Kiera's things, but he forced himself to not overreact as it was simply just a person doing their job and not someone with cruel intentions to sabotage his honeymoon. 

Simon was still going to check and be sure. 

Kiera wrapped her arm around his as he escorted them to their home-away-from home for the next two days, the pair looking around at the luxurious decorations and marble floors as they made their way to the elevator. "We're definitely a long way from home." She commented. 

"That we are, love." 

"You don't see stuff like this in Wyoming." 

"No, but Wyoming does have the Grand Tetons," He chuckled. "Which by the way, are named after big tits." 

"What? No they're not." She laughed. 

"I can assure you, that's what it means. When I was in France, I remember hearing locals talking about it - how they laughed at how many tourists travel far and wide to see The Big Tits of the U.S." 

"I can't tell if you're being serious or sarcastic," She giggled, pulling out her phone. "But I am going to look it up." 

"You do that, love," He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple after escorting her into the elevator. "You know, if this elevator didn't have so many cameras, I'd have you pinned to this wall." 

She blushed, "I'm surprised that's what's stopping you." 

"It is because I don't want one of those old men looking at the cameras gawking at something that's all mine. I'm selfish." He explained, wrapping his free arm around the small of her back, pinching her rear discreetly as they stood against the back wall of the elevator, smirking at how she shrieked at his gesture. 

She couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks at his possessiveness, a warm sensation flooding between her legs as his hand continued to press protectively against the small of her back as they walked along the hallway towards their room. 

Opening the door for her, they both were amazed at the room before them. 360 square feet of pure luxury - elegant carpet, a flat-screen television hanging on the wall adjacent to the lavish king-sized bed, a marble floor to decorate the bathroom with a shower big enough for three people, a separate bathtub and an immaculate view of the Eifel Tower that stood out from the rest of the attraction markings of the Las Vegas Strip. "Oh... My God," She gasped, hesitant to take curious steps forward to look into the room. "This is amazing, Simon."

"Look around, love," He chuckled as he reached for the bags the bellhop had left on the table for them, opening up each one to ensure nothing was missing. I just don't trust anyone. "Where do you want to go first?" 

He watched as she exited the bathroom, turning off the light as she walked towards the bed, running her fingers along the sheets. "I'm fine with staying here for a while. I'm sure this was a lot of money to dish out-"

"Don't worry about the money, love," He cut her off, assuring her that he didn't want her to worry about anything financially. "You tell me what you want to do." 

She hummed, "I mean, can we hang out here for a while? It's only three o'clock." 

"I'm fine with that," He assured her with a grin. "When it gets dark, we can walk around if you'd like." 

"I'd love that, babe," She smiled, slowly approaching him and slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his lips while his hands instinctively rested on her hips. "Thank you for this." 

"You deserve it," He murmured. "This is only the first of many surprises." 

"Strange that you're the one throwing surprises when you don't like getting surprises," She giggled. "You're going to have to let me pay for something at least." 

"Not a chance." He shook his head, accepting another kiss from her as his hand couldn't help but slide down to grasp at her rear. 

"Come on, at least something!" 

He shrugged, "I mean, I'm willing to take another method of payment..." 

"Is that right?" She giggled. "Well, I can arrange that." 

"I was hoping so, because I'd hate to turn it over to collections." He poked, kissing her jaw as her arms wrapped around his neck, giggling at his banter. 

"Oh, I definitely don't want that!" She laughed, melting into his touch as he began to guide her back towards the bed, easing her against the mattress as he rest between her legs, caging her between his arms while his lips caged against hers. 

"We can work on a payment plan, love." He smirked against her lips. 

"Did you sneak one of your allies on the plane with you?" She asked, her hips jolting at the faint sensation of a vibration against her thigh, immediately assuming it was that small vibrator she kept in her nightstand. 

"No, I won't need that," He chuckled against her lips, using his left hand to fish his phone out of his pocket, grumbling to himself that it had been ringing in the first place. "It's that son of ours. Wonder what he's gotten himself into." 

"Are you going to answer it?" She giggled, watching him stare blankly at the screen as if he were waiting for Baler's caller I.D. to disappear. 

He shot her a quick side glance, a playful glare before his thumb slide right against the screen before pressing the phone against his ear, "Yeah?" 

"So, uh... I have a question." Baler spoke from the other end of the phone, mischief lacing his voice. 

Simon knew he was up to something.

And he didn't like it. Especially with he and Kiera being distant miles apart. 

He sighed, "What?" 

"Well, technically Soap has a question, but he was too scared to ask you-"

"Spit it out, lad." 

"So you know how Jacob has a full head of hair?" 

"You mean beautiful, thick blonde hair for a one-year-old?" He scoffed. "What about it?" 

"Well," Baler sighed. "Uncle Johnny thought it would be funny to make Jacob look like him-"

"Uncle Johnny is going to be looking like ground lamb if you're not joking," He scoffed, his mood quickly souring at Baler's words. "Send me a picture. Now." 

"What happened, babe?" Kiera asked, her brows furrowing. 

He sighed as he put the phone on speaker, "Repeat what you just said to me." 

"Hey momma," Baler chuckled out of nervousness. "Uncle Johnny gave Jacob a haircut." 

"Baler, sweetheart, you're lying through your teeth, and you know it. Johnny knows better-"

"No, he doesn't, love." Simon reminded her, arching his brow. 

"Baler, do you promise you're calling to tell us our precious baby boy received an unwanted haircut?" 

A few moments of silence pass by. 

"That's what I thought," She commented, reassuringly rubbing Simon's arm while they heard two sets of laughter on the other end of the phone. "He's just messing with you, babe." 

"He better fucking be." 

"Hey!" Baler chimed. "Mom said no cussing!"

Simon huffed in defeat, "Take the phone, please. That lad is going to make my blood pressure go up." 

"You forgot to mute me, dad!" Baler snickered. 

"Did he fall for it?" Soap chimed in from the background. 

Kiera giggled while she took the phone from Simon's hand, rolling over onto her stomach while he stood to his feet to walk across the room to pick up the room service menu, playfully tapping Kiera's rear when he sat back down on the edge of the bed, grasping her ankles and putting her feet on his lap, removing her shoes for her while his thumb gently massaged the arches of her feet while his other hand clasped the service menu. 

"Thanks for raising Simon's blood pressure, you two." Kiera giggled. 

"You two haven't been gone for an entire day and I've been itching to piss dad off," Baler snickered. "Johnny put me up to it." 

"Oh, I don't doubt he did. Jacob still has his full head of hair, right?"

"Yes, momma," Baler confirmed. "I can't say the same about Evie though..." 

Simon's head snapped towards the phone at the mention of Evie's name, "He better be bloody joking!" 

Baler and Johnny both laughed through the phone, "Perfect head of hair still, mate, we're just toying!" 

"You two don't need to be spending too much time together," Kiera giggled. "Nothing but trouble!" 

"Well, I didn't want to call with some boring conversation, momma," Baler chuckled. "Nana hasn't let them out of her sight." 

"I'm glad she hasn't." Simon commented, a breath of relief leaving his lips. 

"What've you been up to?"

"I just got home from school and am about to go take care of barn chores before I do my homework." 

"Good," She smiled. "How are Kimber and Church?" 

"Kimber is annoying. Church doesn't care about anything going on. He likes having the house to himself. Nana has been letting me stay with her so she can take me to school and so I can help her with the twins."

"I'm proud of you, baby," She smiled. "You make sure you keep up with your homework, okay?" 

"I will, momma. I miss you guys." 

"We miss you too. I'm already homesick." 

"Don't be. We've got the fort grounded here. Uncle Johnny is ready to fill in dad's shoes." 

"He has big shoes to fill." Simon commented. 

"I know. I told him that but he says he'd rather fill slippers than clown shoes." 

"Hang up on him." He replied sternly, although both Kiera and Baler both knew that he was being sarcastic. 

"Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in and make sure you two got to Vegas safe. I tried calling your phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

"Awe, thank you. You should know I'm always safe. I'm sorry, my phone died on the plane." 

"Okay, well I'm going to jump off here and finish the barn chores. I'll tell Nana to call you later."

"Okay, baby. Let me know how Sailor is!" She reminded, referring to her horse. 

"I can already tell you how he is: still a prick."

Baler's answer made Simon chuckle, "He's not wrong, love." 

She scoffed, "Whatever you say." 

"I'll talk to you guys later. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"I love you, dad!" He chimed, knowing Simon loved him, but he genuinely enjoyed getting under his father's skin. 

"Love you too." 

[bindtorturekillme]

Your Eyes, Vacant & Stained

Ch.2 - 4k

Pairing: Frank Iero x Gerard Way

“Have you been bit?” He said more like a statement, than a question. 

“Uh, wha- bit?” Frank stammered over his words, he’s been in a couple of drunken fist fights but he’s never had a gun held to his head.

"Did one of those things bite you . Answer me, or I'll shoot." The figure threatened.

Warnings 

Gore, Death, Murder, WORK-IN-PROGRESS, not completed (and chapters unknown) but I know the ending, trust me guys I will write it, I just need people to love this idea with me, Zombies, Gay, mcr??

Support my AO3 with part two otherwise, enjoy ♥

Chap 1 | Chap. 3 | Chap.4 | Chap.5 | Chap.6 | Chap.7 | Chap.8 | Chap.9 | Chap.10 |

I think it might be zombies...

The joint was gone within ten or fifteen minutes, Frank wasn't sure. He was unaware of how long he’d been driving, either. Much to his fear, radio stations were almost all out. Some stations were playing songs still, but others were just silent, the ones that preached were very quickly skipped. 

This truck had a CD player, and a couple of CD’s hidden in the glove box. The song title and artist blocked the clock on the outdated radio. The sun was still high but it was definitely past noon, the joint had pushed the hangover into a hazy, less nauseating spot in the back of his mind that allowed him to relax. 

The drive had been mostly boring, it was basically all wasteland besides the bodies and cars littering the streets. Most bodies in the roads had been driven over so many times they were practically flat, the others were in piles near flipped cars almost as if someone had been piling them there. Occasionally packs of them would be wandering in the distance, turning towards the sound of the truck as Frank drove by. Frank never really liked sand, or hot places, but his boss had said there would be some big people at the event last night. He wondered if any of them made it out alive.

It had to be nearly two hours before he finally hit a town. The town came out of nowhere, the town literally came to a dead end in the middle of the desert, where Frank rolled in from. He feared for a few moments that he was seeing a mirage, but he pulled the truck over in front of a couple of shops and got out. Using his hands to block the sun, he gazed around the small town that seemed to just go straight down a dusty, two-lane road.

The town felt horrifying, ghostly. The silence made Frank’s ears ring as the wind picked up slightly. A banging of a window cover in the distance made him jump then laugh at himself . He shook off the goosebumps and took a few deep breaths. A few blocks down he spotted a gas station, the truck was so close to empty, he wanted to kiss the parking lot once he reached it. 

But bodies were sprawled aggressively around the town, most of them looked crushed by vehicles, and Frank wanted to avoid any contact with whatever virus was changing people. 

He turned to look at the businesses he parked in front of, one was a thrift shop, the next one was a post office, and the third one was a pharmacy. Post office seemed useless to Frank, he slung the duffle across his back so both of his hands were free. He also took the wrench from before in with him, for protection , he told himself. He clutched it close to his chest as he bee-lined it to the pharmacy, almost praying that it hadn’t already been hit. 

He silently pushed open the door, inside was dark but Frank could see supplies scattered on the floor and two of the shelves laying on top of each other against a wall. Supplies were scattered everywhere, a few lights had been shattered and the shelves that were on top of each other were also broken.

From the outside, it looked like a small building, but as he was making his way through the aisles, they seemed to just keep moving further and further back. He scoured the shelves, unsure of what he really wanted, but the store did not have much left to offer. Many of the boxes or bottles containing things had been ripped open, left spilled on the ground scattered with other broken glass and plastic.

I know it's the apocalypse but is destroying everything on your way out a necessity?

Eventually he dropped onto a knee and grabbed a travel aid kit from the bottom shelf, shoving what was left of it into his bag. He stood up and slid down the aisle to grab a couple different types of pain-killers that were shoved so far back they must've been forgotten. Even if they weren’t strong enough to get him high, he knew the joints were going to run out eventually.

He was lost in thought while browsing what remained of the leftovers when he heard the click of a gun. Slowly, he looked back towards where he came in as he raised his hands up.

A dark figure stood tall next to him holding a shotgun nearly in his face. Frank couldn’t figure out how the man got so close to him so quickly and quietly, but he didn’t think now was the time to ask.

“Have you been bit?” He said more like a statement, than a question. 

“Uh, wha- bit?” Frank stammered over his words, he’s been in a couple of drunken fist fights but he’s never had a gun held to his head.

"Did one of those things bite you . Answer me, or I'll shoot." The figure threatened.

“Please, I just woke up like three hours ago and the world is suddenly on fire. I haven't been bitten by anything.” 

“What’re you doing here?” The figure was unmoving but Frank had calmed himself down a little, although his heart beating could probably be heard from where the figure was standing. 

“I- I am literally just driving through, this car is out of gas, I pulled over, now I’m here and you have me at gunpoint.” He let out a minor sound of panic as he ended the sentence. “I have nothing to fight you with, look,” Frank lazily tossed the wrench to the person's feet, the gun twitched a moment but maintained its target.

“What’s your name?” Again, he said it more like a statement.

“Frank! It’s Frank, now come on man!” The stress was heard in his voice even more this time, even though both spoke in low voices.

The person lowered the gun and Frank was pleasantly surprised to see the man was more attractive than he wanted to admit; his hair was overgrown, greasy, and black, his skin was smooth porcelain with very slim features; his lips and nose were thin and piercing, contrasting his enticing round brown eyes. Frank thought maybe vampiric was a better term to describe the lanky man. He was wearing all black clothes as well, Frank refused to believe he was not drenched in sweat.

Don't let the pretty boy distract you, Frank.

“Thank you,” The man budged the wrench back to Frank with his foot, creating a short scraping sound and then deafening silence. “What’re you doing here, anyways? Isn’t this, like… some apocalyptic shit?” But the man had already walked back around a different shelf,  presumably back to where he came from. “Hey! Hey, hang on!”

Frank scrambled up, collecting his things, slinging the bag across his back again and followed the man around the corner to see him packing a similar bag with gauze and alcohol. The man seemed to ignore Frank, which annoyed him.

“Do you really think I’m going to let you off the hook when you just had a gun pointed to my head?” The man sighed and shoved a bottle of isopropyl into his bag.

“Do you want me to do it again?” The man threatened, Frank immediately threw his hands back up.

“Hey, you seem like you’ve been doing this thing for awhile. I just woke up this morning to people eating people.” The man sighed again, defeated.

“My name’s Gerard. Obviously I’m doing the same thing as you are except my friends and I have been following the virus. Will you get over here and help me pack some of this shit?” Frank rushed over and dropped down, Gerard pointed at sanitizer and sanitizing wipes and Frank followed his direction and stuffed some into the other mans bag. 

There was a moment of silence between them before Frank spoke up again, “Did you say you were following the virus?” 

Gerard nodded, “There’s a lot to it but basically no one believes the virus exists because it’s moving so fast and slow at the same time.” Frank only became more confused, and he figured Gerard could read it on his face. “Look, it’s a lot to explain, but I’ll help you fill up your truck if you drive me back to my safe-house.” Gerard looked Frank in the eyes this time, and Frank felt a twist in his gut.

Frank gulped, they both paused the packing to look at each other, “You, uh… you guys already have a safe-house?” Gerard smiled and Frank felt his face grow hot and red, feeling like a child he looked away.

“I’ll explain more while we get gas, it’s just an abandoned building we’re squatting in.” He laughed lightly and continued to steal random boxes, Frank wondered if Gerard even knew what he was packing. “Come on, there isn’t much else here, did you find what you needed?” 

Frank shrugged and nodded, he wasn’t going to admit he came in here without a plan. “Did you check out the place next door yet?” 

As Gerard stood up, Frank shrunk in his spot. “The post office?” 

“No, no, sorry, the thrift shop? Have you been there yet?” Gerard frowned and shook his head.

“No, sorry, shopping for clothes wasn’t exactly top priority on my mind today.” He chuckled and held out his gloved hand to help Frank stand up. Frank accepted his hand, but when Gerard pulled him up, he also pulled Frank towards him. A faint smell of nicotine and coffee radiated off of the strange man, Frank enjoyed the combination more than he wished he did.

“Sorry, I just… Making conversation, aha…” Frank rocked on his heels and shoved both hands into his pockets. 

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

“Did you want to check it out before we get gas?” Frank shook his head. Gerard remained fairly relaxed as he led them both out of the pharmacy building, careful to scout outside before giving Frank the okay. “There should be canisters there.” Gerard’s tone lowered and Frank knew to follow.

They walked over a block before speaking again, careful to remain fairly quiet even though any creature that was here seemed to be dead now. “So, you and your friends are squatting in an abandoned building… trying to catch up to the virus?”

Air escaped Gerard’s nose as he smiled, “Close yet so far off.” He gave Frank a side eye as they continued towards the gas station. Each building they walked by looked just as abandoned as the last, none of them were destroyed but most were obviously ransacked. Doors hung open, an eerie silence floating around. “My brother and I are from Oregon, that’s where this started actually. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard about it, we’ve been listening to the news stations we can find but nothing is actually covering what’s going on.” Gerard checked around a corner where the road led down into a neighborhood. It was clear, they were almost to the gas station now. “And we aren’t trying to catch up to the virus, we’re more like… storm chasers except we’re… virus chasers.” Gerard grinned widely at Frank, very proud of what he just made up. 

“So, is your brother back squatting for ya?” This made Gerard chuckle.

“He’s not squatting for me, I’m the quietest one in the group so I tend to over scrounge when I get free time. It’s been awhile since we ran into someone, though.” 

“You keep talking about your “group”, who’s your group?” They arrived at the gas station and stopped next to each other.

“It’s just my brother and I and a friend we grew up with.” Gerard shrugged and nodded his head towards the gas station, not giving a chance for Frank to process before he started walking closer.

Frank scrambled to follow him carefully, getting his wrench into a defensive position. Gerard peaked inside through the windows, it looked as deserted as any of the other buildings they found, but they remained cautious. 

Frank kept watch closely next to Gerard as Gerard pushed open one of the front doors, the inside surprisingly still had electricity but the place had clearly also been ransacked.

Cash registers were tipped over, shelves were barricading some windows and side doors. Blood was splattered randomly around the store, a couple of bodies behind the counter had been nearly fully devoured.

There was a body laying on the ground between two shelves, food scattered all around and over it, it was unable to be seen without looking down the aisle. The body was severed at the waist but her head was twisted up and it seemed to stare at Gerard with her twisted scream frozen onto her face. Intestines spilled out down the aisle and her legs were wrapped around the corner of the end of the shelf. Gerard sniffled and continued on towards the refrigerated section.

Frank was stuck on the woman’s body. She was looking at him now with her terrified, vacant eyes. When he was finally able to pull away from her face, he realized she was missing an entire arm while her other arm reached upwards towards him.

He couldn’t help but wonder who she was reaching for. Or why they didn’t help her. 

“Haha, hell yeah!” Frank jumped at the sound of Gerard exclaiming something from the end of the coolers. He heard the sound of a fridge seal back shut as he peaked around the corner. He saw the woman’s legs bent in all directions poking out from behind the shelf at Gerard's feet, but Gerard didn’t seem to care.

Gerard turned around and flashed a couple of frozen pizzas that looked almost fake to Frank, until his mouth started to water and he realized how hungry he actually was. “Are those both supreme?!” Frank quickly met Gerard in the back, forcing the image of the woman away, “We’re gonna have to get you home before they thaw anymore.” They were still mostly frozen, but there was a slight squish as Frank maneuvered the pizzas into Gerard’s backpack.

A crunching drag behind Frank made his blood run cold and Gerard twisted around, raising the shotgun again as he’d done when he met Frank except Gerard had the gun over Frank's shoulder this time. 

They quickly met eyes before Gerard looked back at whatever was behind Frank. His expression was hard and intimidating, but the crunching slowly moved a crawled closer. " Get behind me... " Gerard whispered.

Frank slithered around him to hide and saw the woman from the other aisle pulling her way towards them. Her face was still frozen in a mid scream, her mouth was drooling and her tongue was whipping around randomly as she dragged her body closer. Loud groans were escaping from her throat, her sounds made her look less human.

Okay, zombies are real.

The crunching sound made Frank’s hair stand on end. She dragged her intestines through the broken glass of the fridge doors, a couple of pieces of glass were big enough to cut her and create spurts of blood at the leftover containers and rations on the shelves. Frank’s hunger quickly turned to nausea again and he pulled away a bit, allowing Gerard’s body to hide the woman’s mangled one. 

Gerard took a step, she continued to scrrrrraaaaaaapppppeeeee through the glass. Her mouth made strangled, gurgling sounds, but since it wasn’t able to close, a lot of the bloody saliva continued to spill out of it. 

As Frank ducked to his right he felt himself get hot again at the sight of the woman's mangled legs, what little water he had from the drive there was gone again. From around the corner, a couple of loud thuds that were accompanied by the sound of a thick material shattering could be heard. Frank wiped his mouth clean and stepped back around the corner to see Gerard holding the gun backwards with the hilt embedded in the crushed skull.

He felt the nausea come back and pulled away again. He looked down the aisle where the woman’s body originally was and saw a few leftover medications, some basic summer supplies, and a couple of bags of chips still.

He wasn’t hungry, but he needed to distract himself. He pushed himself down that aisle, pulling his duffel around to his front, he started shoving everything still sealed into his bag. He grabbed two bottles of sunscreen too and stared at the condoms for a moment. Was this something that really mattered during the end of the world?  He questioned himself.

“Hey, did you get my zipper closed?” He turned around and saw Gerard barely peeking over the shelves to look at him. 

“Oh, uh, no, hang on, sorry.” Gerard's head dropped a little and his eyes disappeared as he chuckled.

“You’re fine, I’ll come over to you, there’s nothing else over here anyways. I guess a lot of people had coolers when they left town…” Did anyone leave town or did everyone just get eaten or turned?

Without another thought, Frank shoved the box of condoms into his bag and zipped it quickly. Gerard rounded the corner as he was situating it onto his back again. Gerard had a small smile the entire time and Frank wondered how he could be so positive while actively killing people.

But he realized they weren’t people anymore. The only people left were them and whoever Gerard was with. Gerard stopped right in front of Frank and spun around so he could finish closing his bag. 

“Thanks.. Come on, I think I saw the way into the basement, they have to have canisters down there.” Frank sighed deeply as Gerard went back towards where he found pizzas, Frank followed without question.

And Gerard was right. In the back corner of the gas station, they had two bathrooms and a way into their basement. The basement was dark and dingy, but there weren’t any bodies down there, let alone any blood. There weren’t any windows and the room was relatively small minus two shelving units pushed against a wall that held random cleaning supplies, light bulbs, and snacks that hadn’t been touched. 

Gerard flashed a devilish grin at Frank, “You got any room, still?” Frank flushed but nodded and followed Gerard to the shelves.

They weren’t stocked with much, mostly just bags of salty snacks and a couple boxes of candy. When Frank threw his bag off onto the floor, he unzipped it quickly and shoved his hands in, feeling around to push the condoms into the back. He didn’t really want to raise any questions with a stranger. 

“Hey, you gonna help out?” Gerard was staring at Frank but his arms were out grabbing everything he could.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just rearranging stuff to fit everything.” Frank mentally patted himself on the back before hopping up to help Gerard. They were able to fit a couple of bags of nuts, sunflower seeds, a few different types of sour candy, a bottle of disinfectant plus a bottle of bleach stored in the water bottle pouches of Frank's duffel. Gerard collected as many cartons of cigarettes' as he could shove into all of his pockets.

Gerard exclaimed, “Yes!”, once they had finally gotten the zipper to the other end. Frank noticed the weight difference but was hoping Gerard would split the loot if he helped him out more.

Canisters were sitting in an opposing corner, Gerard was already making towards them before Frank had time to even stand. He threw the bag over his shoulder instead and followed. Each took two canisters and made their way outside. “Then we’ll know they have three more here if we lose these, or if someone steals them.” Gerard said casually as they made their way out of the gas station. 

“Unless someone comes here and finds them.” Frank argued as Gerard squatted and used a stray metal rod to pry the gas pump open. To Franks, inside looked like a lot of metal and copper rods. But Gerard reached into a side pouch on his duffel and pulled out a plastic tube. As he began yanking at different things in the gas pump, Frank realized he was holding a hand pump and within a few minutes Gerard had hooked the pump up and was beginning to pump for fuel.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you’ve been at this for awhile…” Frank spoke without meaning to, but Gerard basically ignored him as gas began pumping through. He watched as Gerard skillfully switched the pump with a canister while barely spilling anything. 

Gerard smiled up at him. “So, we can just split everything once we get back to our place.” Frank sagged slightly with relief, his stomach was painfully empty, he would’ve accepted food even if it fell on the ground.

Frank stood and watched Gerard fill each canister as they mostly remained silent. Frank scouted around nearby corners at one point, but returned back to Gerard when nothing interesting was discovered. 

Eventually the gas stopped and the last canister was mostly full. Gerard capped it off and they left.

They pretended as though blasting someone's brains out meant nothing as they walked in silence back to the truck Frank stole barely three hours earlier.

Frank tossed his duffel into the backseat before crawling into the driver's side, he started the car's accessories and watched the gas level rise as Gerard dumped the not-yet-full canister into the truck. He slapped the outside of the driver's side door from the window when the needle reached the F.

The canister was empty. 

Gerard pulled open the back door and placed the empty canister onto the floor behind the passenger seat, leaving the door open as he lugged the last three canisters over. He placed them in a row behind the drivers seat on the floor, the seats hugged them together to prevent them from spilling.

Gerard slammed the door shut and rushed around the front to get into the passenger seat, Frank started the car. Gerard yanked the door open and used it to pull himself in. He flashed Frank a wide, toothy grin as Frank watched him in fear. It took him nearly a minute to snap back into his consciousness and shift the car into drive and begin driving through and out of town.

"Okay, turn up here," Gerard resisted against the seat belt as he pointed out the windshield, "it's gonna take awhile, and you're gonna think you're lost, but please trust me."

Even through Gerard’s greasy, shoulder length hair, and his coffee stained teeth, Frank felt a safety radiate from him.

Stop acting like a U-Haul lesbian, Frank. Pull yourself together. But he could not stop himself from sneaking glancing at Gerard when he got the chance.