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

hbyrde36 · 3 months ago

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Steddie | R: Explicit (for eventual smut) | WC:3849 | Ch 3/8 | AO3

Ch 1 Ch 2 <-

Chapter 3: The Grim Specter of Missed Connections

For a brief moment after Steve woke up he completely forgot the events of the night before.

Thinking he was still in the hospital, he kept expecting to hear the whir of machinery or the squeaking wheel of a passing nurse’s cart. What found his ears instead was the distant sound of a lawnmower starting up, and the less distant sound of birds singing the song of their people, far too loudly and cheerfully for the way his head was absolutely throbbing this morning.

And just under all that, was the sound of someone softly humming a hauntingly familiar tune under his breath.

Eddie.

Steve’s heart leapt, so relieved to know Eddie hadn’t disappeared again overnight. He smiled to himself and managed to croak out, “I would have thought you’d hate that song now.”

Ignoring his various aches and pains, he carefully turned over to find his ghostly visitor lounging above the covers on the bed right next to him, where Robin had been however many hours ago when he fell asleep.

“You mean the soundtrack to my demise?” Eddie asked, a small quirk to his lips as he pointedly raised a single eyebrow. “Nah, those bats took enough from me, I won’t let them take Metallica too. I worked too hard at learning it.”

“I wish I could have seen you play,” Steve said through a yawn.

Eddie shrugged, mouth curving up into a full smile.

“Heard you though,” he went on, scooching himself closer, the fading trace of drugs in his system making him feel bold. “It sounded very… metal.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, one ringed hand coming up to tug at a lock of his own curls, pulling it over his face.

The urge to reach out and stop Eddie from hiding, and maybe tuck that strand of hair behind his ear, was overwhelming, but Steve held back, knowing it was useless.

“You’re awake!” Robin announced, suddenly appeared through the open doorway—which Steve definitely hadn’t noticed was open. “I thought I heard you talking to yourself in here.”

Eddie snorted, shooting a playful wink at Steve before rolling himself off the bed. He sauntered up to Robin, sticking his tongue out and fluttering his hands in her face, stopping mere centimeters from her nose.

“Not myself,” Steve replied, groaning as he sat up. Thankfully his midsection no longer felt like it was on fire but his entire body ached, and though he’d slept more in the last 48 hours than he probably had in the entire last month combined, exhaustion threatened to pull him right back down to his pillow.

“He’s here? Now?” Robin hissed, her wide eyes darting around the room.

“Yeah,” Steve held in a laugh, not so much for her sake, but because he knew it would probably hurt. “He’s here.”

“He was watching you sleep?” Robin wrinkled her nose, then cupped her hands around her mouth and raised her voice, as if Eddie might have trouble hearing her from the ‘other side.’ “Way to be a creepazoid, Munson!”

Eddie’s gaze slid briefly to Steve as a deep blush quickly spread across his cheeks, before turning back to glare at Robin, who of course, had no idea and wasn’t even looking in his direction. “Forgive me for wanting to keep an eye on the guy that almost just died!”

Steve clenched his jaw, sucking air through his teeth. As much as he found the sentiment sweet, the two of them were killing him with all the shouting. “You don’t have to yell.”

“Sorry,” Eddie and Robin both mumbled at once.

The latter stepped further into the room to stand in front of him with her arms crossed, as Steve threw his covers back and carefully swung his legs off the bed.

“And just where do you think you’re going? Get back in that bed right now, Dingus, or so help me…”

He felt a little wobbly on his feet, even more so than he had last night when they got back from the hospital, but he guessed that was to be expected after hours in bed. The long-term lack of IV pain medications probably didn’t help either. In truth he wanted to sit right back down and gather himself but he hated feeling like an invalid, and he refused to give Robin the satisfaction of being right—again.

He also really had to pee.

“Unless you smuggled a bedpan out of the hospital, you’re gonna have to let me go.”

“Fiiiiine,” she whined, but only partially moved out of his way. She stayed close, hovering as he crossed the floor like she expected him to drop at any second. Thankfully, the threshold to the bathroom was a line she wouldn’t cross, not when he was actually going to be using it anyway.

Eddie didn’t follow either, which Steve was also grateful for. He wasn’t sure his ego could take his crush watching him get his dick out just to make sure he didn’t faint or something, rather than it being for purely recreational purposes.

When he emerged moments later, and she was sure he hadn’t brained himself on the edge of the bathtub, Robin rushed off again, mumbling something about idiots and antibiotics—not necessarily in that order—closing the door behind her.

“Where did you go?” Steve asked as he got settled back into bed next to Eddie, who had resumed his earlier lounging now that they were alone again. “Back in the hospital, I know you were there, but when I woke up you were gone.”

He’d meant to ask the night before, but his relief at finding Eddie there again, and safe in his house had overshadowed almost everything else, not to mention getting caught up in proving to Robin that everything he’d told her was real.

“How would you know if I was or not if you were asleep the whole time?” Eddie teased, thinking he was cute, slick even, avoiding the question with another question, but Steve could see the sudden tightness around his eyes, and he wasn’t about to let it go completely. He hadn’t really thought about the how, or the why, he’d just known without a doubt that Eddie was there, like a flame in the dark of his exhaustion and drug-induced dreamless sleep.

“I could feel you,” he said simply, hoping to leave the ball in Eddie’s court with just that, but soon added, “and you told me I, quote, couldn’t get rid of you that easily.”

“And you trusted me to stay with you based just on that?”

Steve could only nod. When put like that it made him feel a little silly, but he’d felt it in his bones that Eddie had meant it, no matter how casual the words had been.

“I didn’t exactly go anywhere…” Eddie began with a sigh. “Not on purpose anyway. I was sitting by your bed watching you sleep after Robin got kicked out and—I dunno, I guess I fell asleep?”

Until that moment, Steve would have bet money that ghosts couldn’t sleep, but he’d also be the first to say he didn’t really know shit, and nothing Eddie had said seemed like something he’d be so reluctant to talk about.

Eddie rolled over abruptly, eyes turned up and unfocused, and Steve doubted he was actually seeing the speckled popcorn ceiling above them.

“I was back there, in the Upside Down,” he went on after a beat. “I was back there, and I was alone, and it… it should have been terrifying, but I didn’t feel anything. It was creepy, like I was a zombie or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, at a loss. It was all so unfair. “You’d think dying would give you a free pass to skip out on the whole nightmares thing.”

“Do you really think I'm…?”

The unsaid word hung sad and heavy in the air between them as Eddie slowly turned back to face him. Steve held his hand out, letting it rest palm up on the bed. Eddie eyed it warily before gritting his teeth, placing his own hand on top.

To no one’s surprise, it passed right through, and Eddie quickly pulled his own hand back with a low growl of frustration.

“All my instincts tell me yes,” Steve said, softly. “But... I'd really love to be wrong.”

Eddie nodded, body slumping in defeat. “Is there any way to know for sure?”

“I guess we could check the journals, but—”

“You mentioned that before. What journals?”

Steve rubbed at the back of his neck, fighting off that old voice in his head that was screaming at him to leave it be. He shouldn’t even be thinking about those books let alone talking about them. He had to remind himself that this time there was no one around to answer to. No one to stop him from learning his own history anymore.

“That grandfather I mentioned? He was sort-of the outlier of the family. Where he resented his abilities and avoided interacting with ghosts at all costs, the rest of the Harringtons embraced their gifts, documenting their experiences helping the dead in personal journals. There’s a box full of them in the attic, at least I hope it’s still there. I found it by accident once when I was little, when my mom sent me up there for some wreath my dad had forgotten to bring down for Christmas.”

He paused for a moment, lost in the memory of that day. He could see it all clear as day, every detail. The musty smell of mold and mildew. The way dust swirled through the air as he padded across the attic floor on socked feet. How the unlabeled cardboard box would have completely escaped his attention if it hadn’t been for the young girl hiding behind it. She’d flickered like an aging light bulb, and though he could only see her from the nose up, there was something familiar about her eyes, so similar to his own when he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Steve?”

It was the concern in Eddie's voice more than anything that brought Steve’s attention back to the present, a small, apologetic smile taking shape on his face as Eddie came back into focus in front of him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, doing his best to shake off the past.

The furrow in Eddie’s brow only deepened. “We don’t have to talk about this now if—”

“It’s okay,” Steve cut in. “I'm okay, and this is important. There’s not much more to tell anyway, I’d only gotten to skim through a few of them before I was caught… and punished for snooping.”

“Jesus.”

Throwing back the covers, Steve held in a hiss of pain as he started to swing his legs over the edge of the bed again. He wondered if Robin would be bringing up pain meds along with whatever else he’d be prescribed.

Eddie sat up in a rush and made to reach for him, but stopped short, hand hovering above Steve’s shoulder. “Woah, woah, woah, where are you going now?”

“Uh… the attic?”

“Steve, stop. You need rest.”

Steve heaved a sigh, settling back against the headboard with crossed arms. “Et tu, Brute?”

Eddie blinked at him slowly, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally speaking. “Okay, we’re gonna come back to that at some point, because Steve Harrington: renowned jock, quoting Shakespeare to my ghost in his bedroom was not on my afterlife bingo card. The books can wait, I'm with Robin on this one.”

“I’m fi—”

“Don’t you fucking dare say you’re fine!” Eddie shouted, his voice ringing out so powerfully it seemed to reverberate off the walls.

Steve snapped his mouth shut.

“You scared the shit out of me, you know that? I fucking…” Eddie's voice broke. He pulled his knees to his chest, hugging his arms around them. “Do you know how hard it was to see you laying there and not be able to wake you up? Knowing there was nothing I could do to help you? I don’t know what I would have done if Robin hadn’t called and showed up like she did.”

For the millionth time since Eddie had appeared, Steve longed to reach out, wishing he could comfort him in some way other than words.

He wasn’t always great with words.

“I wish I could hug you,” Steve whispered, letting the thought out aloud without really meaning to. He shook his head at himself. “Sorry, that’s… I shouldn't have said that.”

Eddie rested his cheek on his knee, looking over at him sideways with a sad, lopsided smile. “I wish you could hug me too.”

Steve’s stomach flipped, the winged creatures inside trying to take flight again, as they so often did when Eddie looked at him a certain way. He moved closer by inches, giving Eddie plenty of time to move away if he wanted, until their sides would have been flush, and wound one arm around the shape of his shoulders. It felt a little silly, holding his arm up there around nothing solid, but the shuddering sigh Eddie let out at the ‘touch’ was all he needed to know it was the right move.

“It’s not the same, but it feels nice.” Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed while he spoke, as if he were reveling in the sensation.

“What does it feel like for you?” Steve asked, sinking into sweet burn himself, feeling brave enough to pose the question he’d been wondering about since the first time Eddie’s being had passed through his own.

Eddie pressed closer, eyes still closed as he leaned into the curve of Steve’s arm as much as he could. “When I was little—real little, before my mom left, and my dad went to prison, and CPS brought me to live with Wayne, I used to wake up in the middle of the night a lot. Nightmares aren't really a new thing for me. I'd sneak out of my room knowing I'd find my dad passed out on the couch with a bottle clutched in his hand, and my mom sitting up by the window enjoying her first bit of peace and quiet for the day. It had to have annoyed her, me hunting her down and climbing up her legs to crawl into her lap, but she never complained. She’d wrap her arms around me and squeeze me tight. Rest her cheek on the top of my head. For a little while I'd feel nothing but warm, and safe.”

Eddie paused, his eyes drifting back open, meeting Steve’s before he spoke again. “It sorta feels like that”

Steve’s lips parted in wonder as his breath caught, his soft gasp the only sound in the quiet room. They were so close. He knew this dance, and he could practically feel the strings of fate connecting him to Eddie pulling taut. It was only natural to want to lean in that last bit more, his gaze flicking down to Eddie’s mouth, as Eddie did the same.

“Eddie, I—”

The bedroom door burst open, stopping Steve’s words in their tracks, and drawing both of their attention. It crashed against the wall as Robin pushed in carrying a large wooden tray overflowing with packaged snacks, a few glasses of water, no less than three different prescription bottles, and a plastic shopping bag hanging from her wrist.

I wish I could kiss you.

That admission at least remained private thanks to Robin’s impeccable timing. Which was probably for the best. What good would it do to tell Eddie how he felt now when it was already too late? No matter how loudly his heart pounded, trying desperately to convince him otherwise.

“Nurse Buckley reporting for duty,” Robin announced with a little bob of her head.

Steve cleared his throat, reluctantly pulling his arm back from around Eddie's form, both of them straightening and separating as if they’d been caught in a much more compromising position. Not that she’d have been able to see.

She must have felt something in the air anyhow, widening her unblinking eyes at Steve before settling the tray across his lap. He bit his lip, but said nothing, and prayed she would pick up his telepathic vibes screaming—not now!

To his relief, she did, but he could see it written all over her face that he’d have to steal some time alone with her to explain eventually. He wasn’t sure what he would say exactly, that he had a crush on their dead friend and they kinda-sorta-almost shared an ill-advised phantom kiss? But he gave her the barest of nods anyway.

“Soooo—” Robin began pointing from one orange medicine bottle to the next. “One of these every twelve hours, two of those every four to six hours, and I don’t remember what this one is,” she raised the third bottle to eye level, reading the label. “But it says one pill once a day, so you might as well get it all over with at once.”

Steve rolled his eyes. It all seemed like a bit of overkill but he reached for the first of the prescriptions anyway.

She snatched it out of his hand. “After you get something in your stomach.”

Eating was the absolute last thing he felt like doing, and he fought the urge to whine as he browsed the choices before him. “Pringles… Oreos… Nutty Bars… Is this your idea of a balanced breakfast, Rob?”

“Hate to break it to you, Sleeping Beauty, but it’s three o’clock in the afternoon, not exactly breakfast time anymore,” Eddie said, looking longingly at the array of junk food.

And holy shit, Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever slept that long in his life. He opened his mouth to say as much, but then Robin was responding to his own comment and somehow he kept forgetting that she couldn’t hear Eddie’s commentary. Clearly he was going to have to get used to carrying on two conversations at once, and fast.

“What do I look like, your personal chef?” Robin scoffed. “It’s not my fault you haven't been to a grocery store.”

“Do we even have a grocery store anymore?” Steve asked as he nibbled an Oreo, genuinely unsure.

Robin shook her head, talking around a stack of Pringles she was munching. “Bradley’s was right in the middle of one of those crack things.”

“That’s depressing,” Eddie mumbled.

“So what’s in the bag?”

“Mmm!” She hummed excitedly, brushing the crumbs from her face with her free hand before dipping into the bag. “Entertainment!”

She pulled out a video tape in a familiar green and white case, giving it a little shake. “Just making sure you don’t feel the need to get out of this bed again.”

“I still can’t believe you have your own TV and VCR in your bedroom.” Eddie said, shaking his head as Robin popped the case open and crossed the room, shoving the tape in the player that sat on the dresser.

Steve ignored the comment, his cheeks beginning to warm. He’d actually gotten them both secondhand with his own money, when he and Robin first started working at Family Video. It was nice to watch a movie curled up in his own bed sometimes, and of course, there were some videos it just didn’t feel right to watch in the open space of his living room, even when no one else was home. He wasn’t sure which he preferred, for Eddie to figure out the truth, or to think he was a spoiled rich kid.

“So-uh, what are we watching then?” Steve asked.

The screen filled with the familiar gold seal of the MGM logo with its roaring lion as Robin made her way back to the bed, taking up a spot on Steve’s other side, correctly guessing where Eddie was currently seated.

“You’ll seeee,” she sing-songed, a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “It’s the last video I rented before everything went to shit. Guess I won’t have to worry about any late fees.”

The screen went black, and the TV’s small speaker began blaring the Star-Spangled Banner.

Eddie squeaked beside him, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, she thinks she’s so fucking funny.”

“Huh?” Steve said.

Eddie uncrossed his arms, gesturing violently to the TV. “You work at a video store, you should know this!”

Meanwhile, Robin had her mouth clamped shut, with one hand over it for good measure, looking like she was about to bust a gut.

The anthem kept playing, as a few more credits rolled, and Steve had no idea what he was missing. “Worked, past tense. Family Video got torn in half.”

“Good riddance,” Robin forced out, releasing the first giggle.

Finally, the screen flashed again, bright white letters spelling out a single word:

POLTERGEIST

“Oh,” Steve said, grimacing as it finally hit him.

Robin cackled, finally losing control of herself as she watched the dawning horror on his face.

He looked at Eddie.

Eddie looked back.

And though he fought to keep looking put out by her choice of film, Eddie quickly broke out into a wide grin, which Steve matched, and suddenly all three of them were laughing hysterically as the camera panned out, showing a man sitting asleep in a chair in front of a snowy television set.

By the time they were quiet again, there was some creepy blonde girl walking down the stairs of the house on screen, and Steve already knew he wasn’t going to like this movie.

As if he could sense it, Eddie shuddered beside him, leaning in to murmur in Steve’s ear. “I think she’s scarier than I'll ever be.”

Steve laughed again, softly this time, and snuggled down into the covers. He didn’t understand how anyone who’d seen what they had, and been through so much weird shit could still enjoy horror movies, but that was okay. He was happy enough to just be there, nestled between two of the people he cared about most.

He managed to stay awake until the little boy started to get eaten by a tree, and the creepy little girl got sucked into her own closet. After that he found himself drifting in and out, powerless to fight against the cocktail of pharmaceuticals running through his bloodstream.

When the end credits finally rolled, in the space between dreams, he overheard Robin whispering over his head.

“Munson, if you can hear me, I have to go home tonight or my parents will kill me but…uh, could you walk me out so we can have a talk?”

Steve tried to rouse himself, to ask what she meant, what she could possibly need to say to Eddie that she didn’t want him to hear, but her words drifted away before he could latch onto them, sleep pulling at him too hard to open his eyes.

The last thing he felt before unconsciousness swallowed him completely, was a spot of warmth on his forehead, and the distinct crackle of Eddie’s energy buzzing along his skin.

Thanks as always to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta and an absolutely amazing cheerleader!

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

Fic taglist (open): @sidekick-hero @geekymagicalpotato

#steddie fanfic #ghost eddie munson #reluctant medium steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #ghost eddie

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my-soul-sings · 14 days ago

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afloat: ch 3

Fandom: Love and Deepspace Characters: Rafayel/Reader

Summary: “Teach me how to swim.”

// You knew where you stood, behind the line that clearly separated you from him: a princess betrothed to another, and a talented, handsome artist, free to explore the world as he wished.

But with each step you took into the waters, that same line grew murkier, and there would soon be no turning back.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 (coming soon)

*See replies to this post for the AO3 link.

+++++++++++++

When you were younger, you remembered being forbidden from going anywhere near the ocean. It wasn’t because you had nearly drowned once before; your nanny and all the other servants who had been around you had testified to that effect when you had probed.

It was only a few years later when you were caught wading about in the garden lake that your mother revealed the real reason: on the day you were born, the royal diviner had prophesied that you would one day be devoured by the sea. Ever since, your parents had believed it would be far too dangerous to ever allow you to venture near it.

It was why the arranged marriage to Yaryn was the perfect solution in your parents’ eyes. It guaranteed the kingdom’s prosperity, as well as your safety from the tragic fate awaited you that the royal diviner had seen back then.

Which only begged the question: how did your dreams of Lemuria begin? It was all much too vivid to be completely made up in your mind; in fact, it felt more like a memory than a dream, although that too would be absurd. The only tangible thing you had was the painting that you had hidden beneath your bed, and after days of staring at it and mulling over the issue, you decided there must be something you could do to find out more.

A single trip to the library was all it took.

Lemuria. It seemed records of this ancient civilisation actually existed in the old texts. The books were covered in a thick layer of dust from being untouched for what must have been decades. They had been tucked away in a corner of the library so obscure that even the librarian himself had forgotten they even existed. The librarian had been puzzled as to how you had learned that these texts existed when he didn’t. It couldn’t possibly have been covered by your tutors; this material was much too outdated and irrelevant to the things you needed to know as crown princess.

All you could do to avoid answering the question was to smile coyly at him and request that he send all the texts he could find on Lemuria up to your study.

The next few nights were spent reading the few books that the librarian had managed to scavenge for you. It made for a sophisticated bedtime story of sorts; the records of this mythical civilisation were enticing as it was mysterious. Could it be that Lemurians really existed once upon a time? Were the sea levels indeed much higher than they used to be? Had the seas dried up and was the ocean now only a mere fraction of what it was back then?

So many questions, with no one to ask.

…Or, maybe there was one person you could talk to.

+++++++++++++

“Tell me about Lemuria.”

The next time you caught Rafayel on the beach, those were the first words you blurted out to him. The man had stared at you like you had grown two heads, pausing from his painting to study you intently.

After a moment, he asked, “Are you feeling ill, your Highness?”

“No, I’m not.”

You kicked off your shoes, plopping down unceremoniously next to him on the sand, using your palm to block his view of his canvas so that you could have his full, undivided attention.

If any of your servants or, heavens forbid, your mother were to see you acting this way, you would definitely be subject to an hour’s lecture at minimum on proper etiquette and behaviour befitting of a princess.

Despite having those rules in the back of your mind, somehow you just… didn’t care. Maybe it was because this beach had always been the one place where you were free to do as you wished. And maybe it was also because this man here didn’t seem to care either. He didn’t behave like he was in the presence of a princess; he teased and made fun of you as he wished, and it was like a breath of fresh air. He was charming, in the way princes weren’t. And he was intelligent, not like the stiff scholars you knew, but you could just tell from the depths in his eyes that he knew more than he was letting on. It was that mystery that gripped you, and made you want to find out more.

So it was why you were here, leaning in towards him, demanding to know about this strange land that he had conjured up in a painting. It was spoiled, yes, but out here by the sea, you wouldn’t be lectured, chided or punished. You were simply you, and he was him.

And it was… fun.

Rafayel eventually relented when you wouldn’t stop inching closer to him as a means of silently threatening him into acquiescence. With reddened cheeks, he asked what you wanted to know. And then the questions came pouring out: did mermaids exist? Did a second sun exist deep within the ocean? Could fish actually speak?

He answered them all easily, as if he had actually been there. Maybe he was making it all up as he went, but you didn’t mind it. You could see a picture being painted by his words alone — a picture of a grand, prosperous kingdom in the depths of the ocean that no human could reach, of a place ruled by the Sea God and where Lemurians lived peacefully under his reign.

“But it no longer exists,” Rafayel ended his tale with that — a curt line about the end of an ancient civilisation. There was no explanation as to why; all he said was that the sun disappeared and Lemuria was plunged into darkness. Then the seas turned red, before drying up.

“Did the sea god abandon Lemuria?” you asked.

Rafayel shrugged. “Who knows? It was many lifetimes ago, and yet the sea god still hasn’t returned to restore Lemuria to its former glory.”

“Shame. I wish he would do it soon. I’d love to see it for myself one day,” you muttered wistfully.

Your sentiment was met with a snicker.

With a hot glare, you turned to Rafayel. “What?” you asked sharply, “What’s so funny?”

“Princess, may I remind you that you can’t swim? You won’t be able to reach Lemuria even if it did exist today.”

“I—” You sputtered, trying to think of a suitable rebuttal, but you were visibly struggling, much to his apparent and very smug delight.

“I… I could find a Lemurian!”

“And what?”

“And he could take me there. The texts said if you kiss a Lemurian, you’ll be able to breathe underwater.”

To your surprise, Rafayel nodded in agreement. You felt a brief moment of triumph, until you realised his smile was hollow.

“Alright, good luck finding one, Princess.”

#love and deepspace #rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace fanfiction #rafayel fanfiction #my writing #afloat

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lillaluna · 1 year ago

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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.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche #xiao

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passiveechobox · 5 days ago

Text

Under Your Skin CH.1

You kept staring at the email like it might vanish.

Read it once, then again, and again. Still there.

“Congratulations! You’ve been selected for the Central City Tattoo Apprenticeship Program…”

Your breath caught somewhere in your chest. It didn’t matter that the rest of the message sounded like a government form - boring fonts, weird formatting, language like “randomized placement” and “orientation details attached.” It was real, you were in!

All the hours hunched over practice skins, doodling until your fingers cramped, begging friends to let you ruin them permanently... it paid off.

So obviously, you celebrated the only way that made sense, a new tattoo.

Crow’s Nest Ink had a reputation-one of those places everyone’s heard of but no one can describe, your best friend described it as haunted - in a cool way. Like, "somewhere a hot vampire might work." As she had told you dreamily.

Outside, it was all matte-black brick and smoky windows with a crow-shaped wrought iron sign hung overhead, creaking softly in the wind.

Inside was clean, sparklingly so. Minimalistic, all polished metal and exposed beams. The air smelled like antiseptic, ink, and - ever so faintly - citrus soap. Machines buzzed quietly, each artist lost in their own little bubble.

That’s when you saw him.

Levi.

He looked like he belonged there, his hair neatly undercut, eyes sharp, an expression that didn't waver when he called your name. Just a nod, short and precise, and a gesture to follow him.

He didn’t talk much, just asked what you wanted, glanced at your sketch and raised one eyebrow at your placement.

“You want it here?” His gaze dropped to your sternum. Not judging, just curious.

You shrugged. “Go big or go home, right?”

He didn’t answer, curiosity not so much sated as it was ignored, and just handed you a clipboard and a pen.

Before you knew it, you were lying back in his booth, shirt off, the cold table to your back. His hands moved with careful efficiency - no hesitation, no fumbling, exactly how you hoped to be after your apprenticeship. You watched him prepare the inks and finish setting up with watchful eyes, drinking in his movement as if you would be able to mimic it immediately.

And then the needle started, pain bloomed fast, sharp, but manageable. Your cheek twitches, drawing your lips wider for a moment before you adjust.

“Don’t hold your breath,” he said quietly. “It’ll hurt more.”

You exhaled, not having realised you were holding it in the first place.

The session passed in a blur of buzzing, tingling skin, and steady breathing. He didn’t say much, just worked - calm, focused, completely in his element.

Somewhere near the end, when your body had fully adjusted to the pain and your brain felt floaty from the adrenaline, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Guess I can say I’ve finally got art in my heart now.”

Silence. You almot start to feel embarrassed then, so faint you almost missed it, a smile. Just the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered.

But he was still smiling. Barely.

That was the moment everything shifted, even if you didn’t know it yet.

Two days later, you showed up groggy and under-caffeinated to your orientation, half-convinced the email had been a prank.

Everyone sat in clusters, some excited, some nervous. You got your envelope, plain white and heavy then, you opened it.

Read the line once - blinked and read it again.

Studio Placement: Crow’s Nest Ink Assigned Mentor: Levi Ackerman

You laughed. Actually laughed, right there in the middle of the room.

Fate, apparently, had a sense of humor.

The bell over the studio door jingled as you walked in again, portfolio tucked under your arm. You didn’t see Levi at first, then he appeared behind the counter, arms crossed, watching you.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

You tried to play it cool, despite the fluttering of your heart threatening to betray you. “Miss me already?”

He didn’t answer. Just turned and walked toward the back of the shop, pausing long enough to look over his shoulder.

“Well? Let’s go. I’m not here to babysit.”

You followed, heart pounding.

And maybe it was your imagination, but there was that same almost-smile tugging at his mouth again.

You were screwed.

You didn’t expect a warm welcome, but you’d sort of assumed—based on horror stories from other apprentices—that your mentor would mostly sit in the back and let you flounder, offering the occasional grunt of disapproval, but Levi didn’t flounder.

He pointed at a station and told you to set it up, watched you as you did. Said nothing until you stepped back, thinking you were done.

Then he handed you a fresh pair of gloves.

“Again.”

You blinked. “Was something—?”

“Everything.” He crouched beside the station, pointing. “Cord’s in the way. Tape’s sloppy. Where’s your backup ink cap? Your water’s too far - you think you’ll grab that mid-session without twisting your wrist?”

He didn’t sound angry, just matter-of-fact, almost bored.

You did it again.

This time, he showed you—without commentary—how he did it. Every movement smooth, efficient, everything within reach. You watched like it was surgery.

“Always assume you’re working on someone who might pass out, bleed or panic. If your setup slows you down, it screws you both.”

You nodded, filing the information away.

The next surprise was how hands-on he actually was, no disappearing to the back to scroll on his phone. He hovered, offered corrections, even complimented your stencil placement with a noncommittal nod. You caught the twitch of his brow when you prepped your fake skin without being told. Recognition, the kind that meant more than words would have. But it wasn’t all progress, by the time you’d made it to cleaning the station, you were feeling a little proud. You’d remembered everything he said about positioning, equipment order, cross-contamination, or so you thought.

“You missed the base of the arm.” His voice was sharp for the first time all day. Not angry, just sharp. “Corners too.”

You turned back, squinted. “I thought I—”

“You thought wrong.” He tossed you a spray bottle and fresh towel. “Again.”

You wiped it down again and he investigated it like a military inspection.

“Still missed the gap under the tray lip.”

You stared at it, then at him. “How did you—?”

“That’s where grime and dirt hide. Fluids pool. You want to risk someone’s healing for a shortcut?”

“…No.”

“Didn’t think so. Again.”

You cleaned that station five times before he said “good.”

The rest of the afternoon was fake skin. Linework drills. Whip shading. Fill techniques. All while he worked a small tattoo three stations down—a simple forearm piece, something floral and clean. He didn’t say anything, but once or twice, you caught him watching you between passes of the needle, just for a second each time.

At the end of the day, your hand was cramped, your back hurt, and you could still smell disinfectant under your nails.

But Levi gave you a nod. That was it.

It meant everything.

You left the studio exhausted and floating.

Still not sure what exactly you’d proven, but knowing—somehow—you were a little less screwed than you thought.

#tattoo artist au #tattoo apprentice reader #reader insert #x reader #modern au #slow burn #mutual pining #apprenticeship au #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #tattoo shop au #levi x reader #tattoo artist levi #requests open

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that-guy7244 · 20 days ago

Text

The Unshrinkable Jack Ch 1. An Unshrinkable Man in a Shrinkable World

Word Count: 12k

The faint sound of chimes rang throughout the air. A melodic rhythm of wooden, hollow tubes clattering across the small apartment room playing on loop. The type of melody meant to be peaceful–near almost joyous–music to awaken to in the morning. Unfortunately, this had the exact opposite effect, as it is more of an annoyance to people who were wishing to sleep in some more. To Jack, this is the all too familiar, yet still incredibly grating, sound of his alarm clock signaling off in the morning. Jack took to folding the two ends of his pillow in hopes of muffling out the obnoxious sound. The digital timer rang ceaselessly in impatient demand for its master to silence it. The deafening ring somehow managing to penetrate through the impervious barrier of fabric and cotton.

Jack’s hand sneaks out from the dense, cushy material of his comforter, searching for his phone near the charger port. The hand flops blindly on the carpet floor for the phone, its ringing everso managing to become more deafening. Jack’s hand finally seizes the phone, and he brings it up to his face. The interface popping in, and the suggestion to either hit the ‘Snooze’ or ‘Stop’ button materializing on the screen. Jack’s finger sluggishly gliding itself over to the ‘Snooze’ option. The ear shattering alarm came to a sudden halt, and the room bathed in silence once again. Jack falls back onto the mattress with the comforter blanketing his body, all the while his eyes completely shut in order to catch a few more precious zzz’s.

For what seemingly felt like a half-hour, Jack felt something shove itself against his cheek. The shoving was rather persistent, and didn’t seem to let up for a while. Jack knew this wasn’t anything too imperative, as the actual pushing was more like a soft jab with a finger, but still noticeable nonetheless. He opens his eyes, and begins shifting his body to investigate what was shoving against him. Rotating on his side, Jack finally saw the bothersome irritation that befell him during his sleep.

It was a downsized person. A borrower, to be more specific, as they were downsized people often categorized as wild, and typically found snooping within the walls. The miniscule man stood no taller than three inches, and was appearing rather miffed. The borrower crosses his arms in an impatient attitude with his foot tapping with just as much snappiness. The borrower is adorned in a singular piece of gray cloth draping over him like a rain poncho. Given his small size, it had fit like a glove on a hand. Except for the hood part of the cloak, which extends past his eyes when pulling it over (which was pretty much all the time). Yet, despite this fault, the borrower could still see just as crystal. Sewn into the hoodie were two small black buttons stitched right above the actual eyes. Funnily enough, Jack always thought about how much he appears like an actual mouse from a distance. Only up close could he couldn’t see the crude resemblance. The tiny, gray figure was continuing to give Jack a stink eye while patiently waiting for him to wake up.

“Hey Mouse,” Jack groggily greets. A hot stench of morning breath crept out of Jack’s mouth like the waft of the dead. He could even feel how bad it was from uttering those words. He took care to not accidentally blast Mouse with his bad morning breath. “You come to wake me up, Mouse?”

He nodded. Jack groaned, flipping his body around with his back facing his diminutive roommate. “Another half hour, Mouse. Then I’ll wake up. I promise.”

Jack closes his eyes once again. His mind attempting to doze off once again to the wonderful world of precious sleep. From behind, Jack could faintly hear Mouse angrily squeaking to himself. Inaudible, barely sound, murmurs shot out in a shrilling pitch. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself. With the unfair size advantage, Jack knew that it was easy to gain the upper hand on his less than taller companion. ‘Hate to do that to the litter bugger,’ He thought to himself, ‘but that’s just the way the cookie crumbles’. However, like most people, Jack tends to underestimate the resourcefulness of most borrowers.

As Jack lay to rest, his mind soon begins to wander off in a dream-like daze. Visions of distant memories and far off ideas soon took form. A conscience inducing mirage dancing in front of him like a projection from a film reel. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to Jack, there would be a long intermission. A sudden jolt of pain spikes on his face. A terrible strike against the nerves that could practically rattle the whole body. Jack’s eyes shot open in surprise, body jolting in an upright position. His mind and nerves fully awake and fully alert. He clasps his hands around the area where it stung the most and massages the area. The throbbing pain seems like it would never cease, and felt as if it would only worsen with time.

He looks down at the mattress, and sees the culprit behind his agonizing wake-up call. It was Mouse, obviously. In his miniature hand, Jack saw a handful of nose hairs wrapping around in his tiny clutch. Long, black strands of his own nose hair forcefully plucked from his right nostril like daisies out of a field. Mouse gives a disgusting look on his face, tossing the plucked hairs over the mattress. Jack sought to fight through the tears instinctively rolling down his cheek.

“Alright, alright! I’m up! I’M UP! Jesus Christ, Mouse,” Jack shouts. Pulling back the comforter, he hoists himself off the mattress stationed on the floor. Jack could never really afford a boxspring nor a proper bed frame. So, he just settles for placing the mattress on the floor. Which, in his eyes, was better than nothing.

Jack walks towards the bathroom, the pain steadily diminishing in his right nostril. Swinging open the door, he stations himself in front of the porcelain sink. A white, shimmering sparkle glowing off the newly cleaned basin. Jack reaches out towards the silver handle on the sink, turning it clockwise. A cascade of cool water came bursting out of the facet and quickly fell into the drain. He holds out his fingers underneath the water. Brisk, but not too freezing cold. Jack cups his hands together under the facet, and a small pool of cool water forms in the curving concave of his palms. Lowering his head close to the collected pool, Jack heaves it towards him. Glacial water splashes in his face, and an icy sensation creeps throughout his nerves. A surefire method to keep anyone awake throughout most of the day.

Numbing water slowly crept down the facial crevices of Jack’s face. Small droplets slid down along the jawline and to the very edge of his chin. Jack rises up to meet his own reflection in the mirror. His gaze peering attentively into the reflection like it were a painting at a museum. The first detail to naturally catch his attention were his eyes. Eye sockets with deep purple bags weighing heavily underneath them. Jack thought that his looks were appearing as if he hadn’t slept for days on end, but that was simply his natural look. He took his hand and strummed along his face. Small, prickly stumbles of hair brushing along the palm, lightly pricking into the thick skin. ‘Probably need to shave some time,’ Jack thought to himself. Finally came the hairstyle. The rat’s nest resting comfortably on the very peak of Jack’s body. A tangled mess of hair directing in different motions, but never rendering anything remotely stylish.

‘I look like shit,’ Jack critiques himself. Taking his hand, Jack brushes through the thick, moppy mess of his hair. . Fingers smoothly gliding through tangling locks, and reaching the other end without encountering any knots. After a short bit, his hair was finally tame. The wild bits had been completely brushed down, and straight as a flagpole. Centering his hand on top of his head, Jack ruffles his mane with a swift shudder of the hand. ‘Perfect.’

He walks out of the bathroom, and back into his room. He takes notice that Mouse is gone, and probably figures that the miniscule man is moseying elsewhere in the apartment. Scattered along the floor were several colorful shirts lazily discarded on the carpet. Jack bent down, picking one up from the floor. The discarded shirt reveals itself to be a crinkly, light pink Hawaiian shirt with several dark blue flowers in a spread pattern. He holds the shirt close to his nose and inhales deeply. He couldn’t exactly smell anything particularly fowl, nor was the scent anything particularly pleasant. The scent was simply flat. Jack took another whiff of the shirt. Once again, an uncertain assessment of the aroma. Jack tries to rack his mind remembering the last time he wore this shirt. He was fairly certain he wore this shirt yesterday…or maybe the day beforehand.

Jack grabs his phone and starts his way towards the kitchen with the shirt in his clutch. His eyes carefully scanning the floor beneath in case Mouse happens to wander around his footsteps, or accidentally ends up underneath them. Which is unfortunately a case that many downsized folk, as well as borrowers, tend to end up in. Luckily, that wasn’t the case, as Mouse was nowhere to be found on the floor. Jack eventually ends up in the kitchen, discovering that Mouse was sitting on top of the counter. He was currently busy nibbling on a large crumb in his hand. Carefully taking bites of the shot put sized crumb. Jack strolled towards Mouse, his footsteps giving himself away.

Jack holds out his shirt to Mouse, “Hey Mouse, does this shirt smell funky to you?”

Mouse sets aside his large crumb while picking himself up. He strolls over to inspect the pink fabric, small hands clutching at the wrinkly material. Mouse inspects the shirt close to his person and inhales deeply. His nose dragging alongside the cloth as he huffs in the scent. Mouse begins to stagger backwards. His body spinning in some kind of volatile reaction to the aroma of Jack’s shirt. The whirling caused Mouse to collapse to the ground. He lands on his back, body limp from overwhelming stimulation of smell. He lay there on the ground, his tongue limply flopping on the side of his opened mouth. A state balancing on the brink of near collapse and unconsciousness.

“Oh, hahaha, smart-ass,” Jack said, “Next time I ask for something, I’ll just speak to a rat instead.” Retracting the shirt from Mouse, he wraps his Hawaiian shirt over the upper torso while buttoning up the colorful aloha shirt. Mouse, with a cheeky grin, picks himself up while dusting off his cloak.

Jack fishes for his phone out of his pocket, and opens up the screen. Currently, the time read 10:30 A.M., and there were a few notifications popping up on the lockscreen. A few of them were unimportant. Nothing more than simple notices on his social media accounts, or simple reminders that his phone was updating. Out of the couple bulletins, there was a missed call and a text message. Jack narrowed his eyes on this particular message. He hardly, if ever, actually receives any calls–let alone text messages from anyone. Curious about both, Jack tapped on the missed call notification to open the app. Evidently, the call occurred last night around 11 P.M. By that time, Jack was already fast asleep.

Next came the text, which wasn’t sent too long after the call. The number was unfamiliar, but contained the area code in the phone number, which meant that the call came from the city. As Jack was reading the text, it became all too clear that this wasn’t a random prank or a scam. It wasn’t by chance that a random stranger happened to call his number by accident nor was it coincidentally selected out of a phone book. Jack’s number was something that he gave out willingly.

“Well, would you look at that,” Jack said to himself. Mouse, ears perking up in curiosity, moved closer towards Jack’s phone. Jack saw Mouse’s inquisitive interest in his newly received messages. He lowered his phone so Mouse could view it better. “Looks like that flyer I put out around town caught somebody’s attention. Never thought anybody would actually pay any mind to it, but I guess I can be wrong.”

Jack read the text to himself: “Hi, is this Jack? I tried calling, but you didn’t answer, so I’m hoping that a text message will get to you. Anyways, I saw your ad and it said that you’d be willing to clean and fix some rather dirty places, no matter how much of a tight space it may be. Well, I got quite a dirty job for you. All every nook and cranny is so dirty, and is in desperate need of someone to scrub them down. My pipes are also clogged, and need someone to release all the pent up blockage. I need someone (preferably small and delicate) to come over to my place. Don’t be a stranger~, Ms. Scarletson. Emoji-wink, emoji-wink, emoji-wink.”

Jack simply nods to himself. Sounds like a simple job. Go over to this person’s house, clean and mop the room, and pipes are going to be a bit of a problem. Jack knew his experience in plumbing was (at best) bog-standard. His knowledge was basic, but that was the full extent of it. Still, having either little-to-no experience hasn’t quite dissuaded him from taking up any job that pays.

He types back to this ‘Ms. Scarletson character. “Sorry about not getting back to you sooner. I’d be more than happy to take up this job.”

Almost immediately, she replies back to Jack’s message. She simply texts by responding with, “Can’t wait~ See you around noon”, punctuating the reply with another emoji-wink and the address. Exhilaration begins bubbling up inside of Jack. A sensation of unbridled anxious excitement barely containing itself from within. Jack pumped his fist in the air from the elation of acceptance. He could practically feel the deserving merit of a hard earned paycheck coming his way. All of the richly deserving cash from tedious labor nearly within his clutches. But, first thing’s first, a quick breakfast was in dire need before anything else. Jack figured he can’t quite work well on an empty stomach. Putting his phone back into his pocket, Jack proceeded to sift through his shelves for anything of substance.

Opening the doors with hasty expediency, Jack combs through the cabinets. There was hardly anything worthwhile to eat. The empty shelves within the cabinets were largely occupied with empty space. A diminutive absence of anything that was edible, even a scant appearance of any crumbs for mice to nibble on. Save for a single bag of bagels in one corner. Jack shrugged and nabbed the bag. His hand was fishing around the bag and successfully managing to snag a bagel. Only one out of three left. Opening the refrigerator, Jack scanned around for the cream cheese. The fridge, much like the cabinets, were nigh empty. The only physical foods contained from within were a few things of cheese, cream cheese, and a take-out box with a half-eaten burger and a dozen something fries left. Grabbing the cream cheese and a butter knife, Jack spreads it onto the bagel.

Finishing the spread, Jack quickly wolfed down the split bagel while washing it down with some water. As he turned to walk towards the door, he saw Mouse jumping up and down. His arms and legs wildly waving like he’s doing some jumping jacks. Jack softly groaned a bit. He clearly knew what Mouse was signaling. Jack stops at Mouse, turning to face him on the counter.

“Mouse, you know I don’t have time for that. I gotta get going,” Jack tries to reason. His gaze attempting to be as stern as possible.

Mouse shrank back a bit. His lilliputian stature making him appear even more minuscule than he already is. Mouse’s body visibly slumped over, his back curving into slouch. His head hung low towards the ground. The beady button eyes on his hood staring directly down at the tile material on the counter. Then, his lips started curling down. A saddening mixture of letdown and melancholy churning into a single sorrowful display. As if Mouse couldn’t already add onto the woeful exhibition, there were soft sniffles escaping from him. Nearly sounding as if the poor borrower were to break down into tears.

A freefall of unbearable regret fell into the endless pit within Jack’s stomach. He stared with eyes of remorse at the little guy. Jack knew he hadn’t meant to hurt Mouse’s feelings, it was just the excitement of the new job that got to him. Still, whatever the excuse or reason, it hadn’t lessened the feeling. Debating with himself for a short moment, his thoughts clashed against another in an inconclusive stalemate. The near sobby snivels of Mouse got louder, and all the more harder to ignore. Jack, in all the reluctant acceptance, caved into the susceptible trap of his own guilt and remorse.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry,” Jack consoled. He took a deep breath and exhaled. A red blush developing across his face. “Alright. Fine, I’ll do the thing before I leave.” Jack leans over to the gloomy body of Mouse. His lips pursed together and kissed Mouse. A quick, simple peck on the top of the borrower’s head. Jack pulls away back from Mouse, the deed was done and over with as swiftly as possible.

Mouse pops back to his normal self in an instant. A spry burst of energy coursing through his body from Jack’s small peck. A bright, cheery smile forming across his face as Jack performed his daily goodbye kiss. He power walks his way towards the door, time clearly of the essence in his mind. He swings open the door, and before he is about to leave, he turns back towards his miniature roommate. Mouse waved his small arm back and forth, signaling his goodbye to Jack as he is most likely to disappear for a majority of the day. Returning the gesture, Jack also waved goodbye as well and went through the doorway.

“Oh, Mouse, and one more thing,” Jack pops back into the doorway, “Don’t eat my cheese when I get back. That’s my cheese, not yours. You have plenty of cheese. It had better not be gone by the time I get back.” Mouse simply gave a nod and a thumbs up.

Jack finally closes the door behind him. A hardy slam thundering out from behind him as he made his way down the hall of the apartment complex. He passes the adjacent sets of identical doors, the hall appearing as if it stretched infinitely with no definite finish line in sight. Hugging close the dry paper wall is the downsized walking section. A large, clear plastic tube allowing the downsized residents free passage without the risk of being stepped on. Promptly issued by the city for the minute people’s safety, and found at nearly everything building and sidewalk. This tube had a backlog of small residents cluttering up the tube. Long lines forming for people attempting to reach their own living spaces.

‘Oddly large amount of downsized people we’ve been receiving as of late,’ Jack thought.

As Jack turns the corner to finally meet the familiar exit sign, he notices someone standing outside their apartment. The figure’s face turned away from Jack, but he knew the person given the lab attire they wore. They stood close to the door, practically leaning up against the entrance as if they were attempting to shoulder tackle down the door. Jack could see a set of boxes carefully cradling underneath the cusp of hooked fingers. Limbs awkwardly fiddling around while striving to firmly grasp the round, brass handle of the doorknob. They kicked up a leg, knee firmly planting under the cardboard base of the box. In a desperate attempt to grab the doorknob, the hand shot out. Unfortunately, their timing was too slow, and they had to immediately underhand the bottom of the box before it could fall. They’ve ultimately ended up in the same position they started in.

Jack, who had finally decided to intervene, turned the handle. The door smoothly glided open with ease. Managing to peek inside as the door swung open, Jack caught a glimpse of the inside apartment. He wasn’t quite fond of peering into others rooms, much less prying into other people’s business. However, the sight of the room was something else to behold. A large variety of computers, technological gizmos, and chemistry sets carefully stationed within the small room of the apartment. Wires haphazardly strew across the floor as tangling bundles of it coated the carpet floor. The very covering of the floor is more cable wire than carpet. Beakers and test tubes with residues of unknown origin sat aligned on a table, ignored and neglected from cleaning. Evidently, from some of them, they were freshly used, and others to have sat there for an unknown amount of time. In Jack’s mind, it was less an actual living space, and more of a lab for experiments to run rampant.

“I didn’t ask for your help, you know!” The stranger–whose voice sounded very feminine–suddenly snaps at Jack. She turned to confront him, and Jack got to view a familiar expression of disgust. “Oh great, it’s you,” she replies snidely.

Valerie Reyes, or often referred to as Val, is a neighbor living on the same floor as Jack. Not that he’d say she is a particularly nice neighbor, which wasn’t the case at all. No, she’s a neighbor that is often neutral towards everybody else on this level, except for Jack. She had moved in some time ago to the apartment where she currently resides. Jack had assumed she was a nice enough lady at the time, and opted to address her. When he decided to play the part of the greeting neighbor, she gave him a shoulder cold enough to freeze any man in place. Ever since, Val made it abundantly clear of her attitude towards Jack whenever he was so much in a general line of sight.

Val set the box she was handling down onto the floor, landing with a light thud and the soft clatter of glasses knocking into each other. She turned to face Jack, beadlets of sweat slowly crawling down on the crease of her forehead. She quickly dabbed up the sweat with the sleeve of her shirt. Jack could instantly recognize Val from the lowest valleys and the highest peaks. It was the lab coat she wore. Val always parades herself around in that lab coat. In the hallways, laundry mat, and even at restaurants, she wore that coat like it was practically her skin. Val parts the sleeve off her tan skinned forehead, and a noticeable damp spot of sweat forms on the sleeve.

“What’s up, doc?” Jack responds.

“Funny,” Val acknowledges. Her eyes squint at Jack. A suspicious stare appears in her eyes as she quickly scans him. Emerald colored irises darts from the top of his head to the very bottom of his soles. She gazes at Jack like he had come back from the dead. “Speaking of funny: Why are you at this size?”

Jack simply raises a brow at this. He took a moment to process the question before answering Val’s inquiry. “Because I am at the size I’m supposed to be at, I guess?”

“Unfortunately so,” Val notes. She steps closer in an awfully intrusive space for Jack. The finer details of her pores and skin magnifies in Jack’s field of vision with how close she currently was to him. Val begins to closely analyze Jack with her hand inspecting various aspects of his body. Her fingers first felt the fabric of his shirt by giving the arm holes a soft tug, and pulling on the hem which dangles loosely around Jack’s waist. Next, she prods her finger in various spots on Jack’s body. A dull, yet oddly cold, prick tickles the nerves and muscles of his torso.

Jack, who had been standing there for an agonizingly awkward amount of time, simply had no idea what to make of the situation. What is a man meant to do when their neighbor begins to prick them with their finger, especially one that doesn't particularly like him at all? What does a man do when he’s being studied like some odd specimen discovered by modern mankind? Jack glances around for someone, possibly anyone, that would be able to break this awkward counter. Unfortunately, no one was around at all. It is simply him and Val. Jack stands there in thought, while Val continues to prod him with her digit.

Thankfully, Val stops her intrusive tapping and pulls away her hand. She stood there in deep thought, fingers caressing the jawline pensively. Although the moment had lasted a few seconds, Jack could have easily fooled into believing it was an eternity. He contemplates making a mad dash towards the stairs, even possibly risking Val chasing after him like a hound in the night. Thankfully, that wouldn’t have been the case, as she spoke up, thus breaking the painful silence between them.

“Have you been experiencing any sort of these odd, and completely auspicious, symptoms: Nausea, dizziness, blackouts, and the disorientation of perspective? And on that note, have any of these symptoms occurred within the time frame of the past month?” Val questions with rapidfire pace.

“Um…no.”

“I need a sample.”

“What did you–”

Before Jack could even finish his sentence, Val lunges towards him. Her hand shoots out and grapples around the throttle of Jack’s neck. Her fingers clutch around the gullet with a slight force to restrain, but not completely choke out. Short, rapid breaths of air crept through the windpipe of Jack’s gullet. A straining wheeze coughs its way to attempt to form words, but only comes out as a raspy croak. With Jack’s mouth open, Val quickly snatches a q-tip from her back pocket and inserts it into his open maw. The q-tip swirls uneasily inside of Jack’s mouth. The cotton end jerks from one side to the other, forcefully maneuvering against the walls of his cheeks. The end of the q-tip scraping up and down the inner walls to collect saliva and loose cells. To add to the already stacked pile of bewilderment, Jack’s eyes shoot open with disturbing distress.

His arms desperately try to push Val back in retaliation. Hands placed firmly against her shoulder, and elbows ready at the bend to give Val an almighty push backwards. Before he could push Val away, it seems she was already a step ahead. Val quickly moved away from Jack, her hand lighting up on its forceful grip. She removed the q-tip from Jack’s mouth, a string of saliva forcibly broken as she moved away. Val ducks back into her apartment and slams the door behind her. A word never even muttered to Jack.

Jack leans back against the wall with an obnoxious wheeze escaping his mouth. His heart rate shot up, breathing rapidly, huffing in what little air he could salvage, and worst of all was his mouth. The phantasmal feeling of Val’s q-tip still rests from inside of his mouth. Every scrape and movement still carries some semblance of feeling from inside. Almost as if his muscles couldn’t forget the forceful invasion of it. He rests upon the vine patterned wallpaper until his breathing stabilizes, and he picks himself up.

“Oh great. Now my day is complete,” He comments as he heads on his way outside.

Jack strolls his way out to the parking lot. It didn’t take too long to locate his car, as the lot was scarcely filled. As he approaches his car, Jack outlines an indiscriminate course along the side. Index finger carelessly drifting along the worn paint job of his car, as it drew some nonsensical line across the hull. The finger dips and ascends aimlessly, but always avoids any spots where rust forms over chipped holes through the paint job. Jack reached the driver’s door and swung it open. The familiar scent of his car’s interior wafts into his nostrils like the aroma of a candle. He plops himself down onto the wool seat and inserts the car key into the ignition, turning it clockwise.

The engine sputters to life with a few loud coughs, but never jumpstarts alive. The revving of the engine dies out with a climatic pop. To anybody else, this would sound particularly concerning to hear. However, for Jack; this was a rather normal occurrence. He tries to start the car again, and the engine emulates the same order of events as before. The irritating game of aiming to bring the car’s engine to life continues for a solid minute. Around the fourth attempt, the stubborn engine finally caves in and decides to function. The metallic hull of the vehicle shakes as the engine roars into animation. Jack eases back into the seats, and drives off onto the road towards his fixed destination.

As Jack was busy driving, he decided to tune into the radio, as the silence inside of the car was too deafening for him to withstand. He fiddles with the knob a bit, switching from station to station for any music. Unfortunately, nearly every station appeared to be stuck with a different radio host and their morning talk show.

“The shrin–”

“–iru–”

“–epide–”

“Please show–”

“–uation when in contact with–”

“C’mon, play some tunes! I don’t care about any of that crap, I just want some music!” Jack cries out impatiently. His fingers kept readjusting the knob around, the radio constantly flipping between a variety of stations and static. Quite fortunately, Jack’s luck took a turn for the best, as he thankfully managed to land upon a channel that was actually playing music. He stations his right hand back onto the wheel at the usual 2 o’clock position. Jack comfortably sat back into his chair, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally.”

“Hey hey hey, people! This is your talk show host, Jeff Beckson, for the Mix ‘96 Variety Hour on 107.3 Kiss FM. Before we start our non-stop rock hour, where we play your favorite hits during the noon with no breaks, we have some important news to share for you,” Jeff Beckson chats after the song had just ended. Jack lightly slams the handles of his car wheel and curses to himself. He fishes his hand around inside of the console box while his eyes are focusing on the road. Meanwhile, Jeff continues to talk his head off. “It’s been an entire month since this whole fiasco began, in case some of you have been living under a rock. Statistics show that nearly 75% of this city’s population has been affected by the epidemic. Except, of course, for yours truly. Eggheads at the M.N.O.W. research facility have assured the good denizens of Macropolis that they are busy at work on a possible ‘fix’ for this recent outbreak. But hey, I want all you beautiful listeners to know this: Big or small, there’s always enough room for you on the Mix ‘96. Now, before we get back to your regularly scheduled classic hits, we’ve some important information on the recent shrinking vi–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack interrupts while inserting a CD into the player, “Very riveting stuff, but I don’t care. Honestly, it is so much trouble for a guy to listen to his favorite music.” Jack waits for the stereo to read the disc. It didn’t take too long as music started spilling out of the mics. He taps his fingers along to the beat of the song Blister in the Sun, as Jack drives towards Ms. Applebottom’s house.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Nothing out of the ordinary nor anything too exciting. Just a short thirty minute drive towards his destination, and nothing else. Jack discovers that his drive has led him towards the suburb of Macropolis, located just near the outskirts of the city. A large lot of nearly identical, hefty houses lining up one by one. It made Jack wonder how anybody, let alone anyone, could possibly distinguish a single house from another. Outside of the addresses and minor lawn decorations, every house was cursed with the conjoining appearance of unparalleled mediocrity.

Jack inevitably arrives at the customer’s house after a solid five minutes of patrolling the road for the correct house. Despite living in the city for a solid year, Jack was rather unfamiliar with the suburban area. It was never a place he intentionally wishes to visit, nor did he have any other reason to visit outside of the occasional odd job, so it was foreign to his memory. Ms. Scarletson’s house, like every other house in the neighborhood, was unimpressive. The main notable distinction of her house in particular were various pink flamingos scattered about on the front lawn. One safely tucked amongst the bushes, one planted indiscriminately near the driveway, and two perfectly aligned so the tip of their beaks kiss each other.

He walks up to the front door. An opulently ornate door with an intricate, rigid shape grooves into the fine wood. To further warrant the idea of fancy embellishment, the door even had a brass knocker embedded into it. Jack grabs the handle, and it utters a terrible creaking noise as it is lifted into the air. With a swift swing, the brass flung hardy against the fine wood. Jack waits around a bit for a response. From behind the door, he could faintly hear some muffled noises shuffling about from inside. After a quick second, the door swings open.

Standing in front of the open door was (presumably) the house’s owner, a woman adorning crimson yoga pants and a white dri-fit shirt. She was quite possibly a woman in her late thirties, maybe going on forty. She was also rather curvaceous, although Jack was rather disappointed in himself for noticing that detail first. Although by no means fat or chubby, it was certainly a body type that most women her age would probably kill to obtain. An hourglass figure that was kept well in shape through vigorous training, exercise, and most likely luck. She leans up against the frame, elbow perching neatly upon the wooden material as her balled fist rested up against the side of her head. Her free hand glided through her chocolatey color hair, brushing aside a long, wavy portion concealing nearly half of her nubile appearance. The beautiful stranger stares at Jack with cautious curiosity with light sky blue irises.

“Can I help you with something?” She asks. Her voice was soft and pedantic. A kind of soothing tone that lulls the woeful ailments of any man. Any man except for Jack, that is.

“Hey,” he greets. He waited for a response from the lady of the house, but didn’t receive any. She simply stares at Jack like he were some conman peddling his snakeoil to her. Jack reaches down into his pocket and materializes his phone. Tapping on the text app, he presents his screen to the woman. “I’m Jack. You contacted me earlier this morning. I’m here to clean.”

Her face lit up with astonishing surprise. “Oh, you’re Jack! I’d thought you’d be arriving pretty soon. Why yes, I’m Miss Scarletson, but everybody just calls me Scarlet. God, I feel so embarrassed for not recognizing you at first. I mean, I hadn’t any idea of what you’d look like when I saw your ad. I do have to say, what with recent events and whatnot, you’re nothing like I pictured at all. If anything, I’d expected you to be…well, y’know.”

“No, I don’t,” Jack answers bluntly.

Scarlet was hesitant at first. Her words seem to clog in the back of her throat like a congesting sink drain. It almost appears as if she were afraid to say what she intends to utter. Her mind mustering all the mental capacity to stop herself before complete and utter embarrassment. However, she finally musters up enough courage to say it, “Small. You’re a lot taller than I expected you to be. To be frank, I thought you’d be a lot, lot, lot, lot shorter.”

“Oh, really?” Jack muses aloud, “Well, sorry to disappoint.”

“Honestly, that’s no problem at all. Far from the case,” She replies with a bright smile. She steps aside from the front entrance, and offers entry for her hired help. Jack receives the message and happily steps inside, tools and cleaning supplies in tow. As he advances indoors, Jack could faintly pick up some muttering words under Scarlet’s breath. The finer details were unknown, but Jack could definitely hear something about ‘the right size’.

“‘Ey?” Jack asked, his head turning towards Ms. Scarletson. He wasn’t entirely certain if it were his ears playing tricks on him, or she actually said something. “You say something?”

“I said that it’s better if we get a move on. Come on, I’ll show you around the house,” She replies with a nervous smile. Scarlet quickly scurries past Jack at a cursory pace. Before he could even process her words, Scarlet latches her grip around his wrist, yanking on his arm like a chain. Jack aims to politely free himself from her clutches by attempting a delicate removal of her grip. However, he found that her clasp was a lot more iron like than he anticipated, and Jack is involuntarily dragged along for this impromptu tour of her house.

——————————————————————————————————

The tiny claws at the white fabric of the couch. Nails dug deep into the linen material as she cautiously attempts to climb. A herculean task for somebody at the diminutive size of four inches. The downsized girl carefully locks her fingers around the checkered pattern of the linen while she meticulously makes certain of her own footing. One small misstep or slip up could spell quite a drop. Nothing to necessarily cause death, but it would warrant some bruising. Through trial and tribulation, the top of the couch cushion was in near reach. Hand clasping around the edge of the cushion, she hauls her body over onto the couch. Arms straining with pain from the tedious and long journey.

Far too exhausted to actually pick herself up, the tiny teenager opts to simply roll her way to the center of the cushion. After finally positioning herself, she let her muscles relax. A soothing sensation washes over her. Every muscle in her body gave way to a beautiful release of pent up pressure. It was like a colossal weight was finally left off of her. A feeling that was often regular to her, but it felt amazing nonetheless. The pillow-like softness sunk underneath the weight of her tiny body. She stretches out her arms and tucks them behind her head, fingers interlocking with each other while catching wild strands of her hair. She closed her eyelids and exhaled deeply.

“Ah yes, the couch,” She said to herself aloud, “The solace of luxury and bliss. The best place for a downsized person to lounge around on, as nothing erotically fantastical happens here to a tiny. Nope, no sir, not a couch of all places. It’s not like some giantess is gonna sit on me. No, that’s just ridiculous. Since when has that ever occurred. Never, because it’s just unheard of. Nothing bad ever happens to a tiny person on a couch.”

Despite her eyes being shut, the miniature woman could instinctively tell something was above her. A large object clearly blocking out the radiant light from the bulbs hanging from above. She opens her eyes to see what obscures the gleaming beams of the ceiling light.

“Oh.”

——————————————————————————————————

“And this is our living room, as well as a personal yoga space for me. It’s quite spacious, as you can see,” Scarlet introduces the room to Jack, who was still being dragged about by her hand like a ragdoll. He had been forcefully hauled to nearly every single room in the house, and begrudgingly endured a long-wind list of interesting facts about each living space. The only room that Jack had yet to visit was the room desperately needing cleaning, for which he was hired for in the first place. Yet, despite attempting to bring it up, he is swiftly cut-off by Scarlet as she jostles him away to a different room.

True to her words, the living room was certainly extensive and roomy. All four sides of the area were occupied with some variety of furnishings and equipment, yet there was plenty of space between them. One corner was practically a dedicated workout space for her to use. Yoga balls, a treadmill, cardio bike, and dumbbells of varying weights. It could practically be like a micro-gym given how much room was committed to it, despite the fact it didn’t take up too much space.

Scarlet walks towards the couch with Jack in tow, eagerly rushing him to sit down as they both pass over the laid out yoga mats. Before she could offer a seat to him, she quickly took notice of something sprawling out on the couch. A squared photo frame laid out on the linen material of the couch. Levelled flatly on the sofa, the frame was presenting the backside of itself while obscuring the actual picture. Scarlet gingerly lifts the frame off the sofa and brings it closer to her. Underneath the fallen holder, much to Jack’s surprise, was a downsized person. A young woman who appeared to be late into her teenage years, possibly entering young adulthood. Her body was sprawling out in an eagle position, looking dazed and confused.

“Oh my goodness!” Scarlet cries out, “My photo frame!” She lifts it up close to her. A distraught expression contorts on her face as she assesses the damage. The protective glass that shields the photograph had shattered. A noticeable splinter that shatters the single panel into multiple pieces, luckily holds in place within the borders. She gently lays down the broken frame onto the coffee table. “Oh damn it! That frame really complimented the wall decorations as well.”

Jack, who was more concerned for the young woman’s health, hovers over her body. The young woman’s body hadn’t moved at all, and was seemingly dead, given all appearances. Jack brought his index finger close, prodding at the sides of the young woman. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” the young woman croaks, her voice rather raspy. She wraps her tiny hands around the enormous digit. With a light tug from Jack, she was instantly up and on her feet. She staggers on her balance, but is able to maintain it after a short while. Jack mentally sighs in relief as the miniscule woman was perfectly fine and without a scratch, despite her reduced size.

“Gwendolyn!” Scarlet chides aloud, her voice a stern mixture of harsh strictness and peeving agitation. Her arms interlinking across her chest, a telltale sign of any parent ready to have a firm talk with their child.

The young woman, who Jack guesses is Gwendolyn, jumps back in surprise at her colossal mother’s tone of voice. Her body begins to quiver uncontrollably, shaking with unparalleled ferocity comparable to a terrible cold. Gwen quickly bolts off the couch, leaping off the edge and latching onto the pant leg of Jack’s jeans. She hastily scurries down the pant leg, nimbly maneuvering downwards like a squirrel on a tree. By the time her legs hit the carpet floor, she turns tail towards the opposite direction of her mother. Her miniature legs sprinting at the maximum capacity for someone her size. She rounds a corner that leads into a hallway, and is spared from her mother’s fury.

Scarlet turns towards Jack, an almost embarrassing expression forms across her face. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. My stepdaughter can be quite a handful at times.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” Jack answers, hoping to reinstate some assurance. The last thing he ever hopes is to make other people feel uncomfortable.

“Are you a bit parched? I could go grab a glass of water if you want?” She asks, entirely out of nowhere. Jack didn’t even have time to process the question at first. He simply stood there, a bit dazed by the spontaneity of her inquiry. Jack stares at Scarlet with eyes that hide a brain attempting to process her sudden choice of words. After no response, she spoke up, “Okay, I’ll go grab something to drink from the kitchen.”

“Wait, maybe I should start the job that you hired me to do, and the drinks could possibly wait until after…” Jack’s sentence trails off a bit as she was already gone before he could finish. Swiftly power walking her way towards the kitchen area, and leaving Jack by his lonesome. He sighs and sits back onto the couch. The soft material pampering his hardy landing onto the foamy components. It gently caresses his weight, and is practically like sitting on top of a cloud. He sets down his cleaning supplies onto the floor, and pulls out his phone. It had been nearly an hour and a half, and his job hadn't even begun yet.

He lounges around a bit. The drinks had taken more time than he expected, as from the kitchen area, he could faintly hear Scarlet rummaging through the cabinets. Stifling sounds of miscellaneous kitchen supplies lightly clinking against each other as she shuffles about through them. Probably searching for some cups, but it was difficult to say. Nonetheless, Jack’s simply bored. His eyes wander around the living area in search of something interesting. Nothing stood out that isn’t typical to the living room nor anything remotely exotic. Television set, bookcase, and various potted plants, but nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes then follow down at the broken picture. The hostile exchange between her and Gwen was still fresh in Jack’s mind. He too would be pretty upset at something broken, but a picture frame? It could be easily replaced, and didn’t even cost a king’s ransom to purchase another one.

He leans over to pick up the picture. The adhesive force that kept the glass from falling out was beginning to loosen. Jack carefully steers the photo closer to him without some shard of glass disappearing amongst the carpet. Despite the fragmented glass panel, Jack could view the picture with crystal clarity. It was a picture of Scarlet, or at least her lower half. She’s down on one knee with the other leg extending outwards behind her. The focus of the shot was definitely meant to highlight the more bulbous features of her rather risque position. A firm backside tightly straining against the airtight fabric of her white yoga pants. Which, now that Jack looks at it, is the same clothing that Scarlet is wearing today. Red yoga pants pairing with a loose dri-fit white shirt.

“Drinks are ready!” Scarlet chimes out in a cheery tone. She walks towards Jack with two glasses brimming with water and ice cubes. She places both cups down onto wooden coasters, ice cubes gently rattling against another from the motions. As she sits down, Scarlet notices Jack with the photo in hand, and flashes a nice smile at him, “Like it?”

“You just keep a framed photo of your ass in the living room?” Jack questions.

“Well, of course,” She answers earnestly, “How else are guests supposed to know my ass is fat?”

Jack opens his mouth to respond, but pauses for a moment to come up with a retort. The logical cogs of his brain begin to stagnate, grinding to an eventual halt. Stuck mid-process as if they had all spontaneously rusted on the spot. Jack closes his mouth and sets the picture down onto the coffee table. He grabs the glass of water, icy coldness transferring onto his palm. He replies to Scarlet in an effort to change the subject, “So, um, your kid. I’m kinda curious to know about them. Stepdaughter, eh?”

“Oh, Gwendolin?” Scarlet asks, an intriguing tone in her voice. Jack was rather happy that the change of subject went by as smoothly as it did. “Again, sorry about what you saw before, but yes, she’s my stepdaughter. She’s actually my ex husband's daughter, so that way it’s less weirdly incestuous when we get into coincidentally erotic scenarios.”

“Wuh?”

“Do you have anybody living with you?” She queries.

Jack mentally does a double take on her words, but quickly disregards them as his ears playing tricks on him. He replies, “I do live with somebody. They’re kinda small and–”

Scarlet’s eyes lit up with curious content. “Oh! You have a little person living with you? Let me guess, is it a relative of yours, or one of your neighbors? Ooh, maybe it’s someone you knew at work, or possibly one of those borrowers that lurk around inside of the walls?”

“I live with Mouse,” Jack answers earnestly, almost entirely bluntly.

“Oh, really!” Scarlet chirps. She smiles abashedly, like it was a stupid question to ask from the get go. “Well, I guess having a pet mouse is very similar to keeping a tiny.”

Jack didn’t even bother to correct Scarlet on her misconception of Mouse. He simply dismisses the comment, and opts to move on with their conversation, especially with his task at hand. Before Jack could bring up the topic, he raises the glass of water towards his mouth. A faint droughtiness had overcome his throat. The dryness tingling the inner walls of his esophagus for something to cure his ailing exsiccation. Lips touch upon the crystal glass, and Jack tips the bottom upwards. Water slowly trickles down towards his gullet in eager anticipation. Practically crawling to escape from its glass confinement, and makes its way down the throttle into his stomach.

Streams of cool water found themselves sailing down the passageway of Jack’s mouth. Icy cold water smoothly cruising as the drink quenches his thirst. Jack put down the glass after satisfying his need for it. Swiping off any residual droplets, an odd taste left lingering on his taste buds. He thought that the taste isn’t awful, not by any stretch of the imagination, nor is it pleasant. It’s just a bizarre tang. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the water has a different taste to it.

‘Probably got it from the tap,’ He thought.

Scarlet kicks her legs over the side of the couch, her posture leaning towards a more sultry position. She scoots over closer to Jack, practically touching him with her body. He squirms uncomfortably in his seat with her intolerable body heat radiating off of her.

“So, Jack,” She starts, “Do you ever get lonely just being by yourself? I mean, I can’t imagine how lonesome it gets with just yourself and a mouse.”

Jack took another swig of his drink, and states, “Well, I guess some extra company couldn’t hurt. It does get a little boring sometimes with just me and Mouse.”

“Oh, is that so?” Scarlet chimes, her voice lowering into a more sultry tone, “Well, I guess you and I are kindred spirits. Y’know, I’ve been alone something fierce myself. Gwen is a good kid to play around with, but I need a real man to take care of my personal needs. A man to pamper me after a long, hard day of cleaning. A man who really knows how to fill all those nooks and crannies. A man who’ll help keep me clean after all those sweaty, hot workout sessions. You know what the best part of him is?”

“No.”

“The best part of him is…” She pauses while leaning closer to Jack. Face in full view of his peripheral view, blotting out everything until her own features were barricading the whole scene. Scarlet inclines over to Jack, her voice softly whispering into his ear hole, saying, “He fits right into the back of my pocket.”

“That is an awfully big pair of pants,” Jack comments.

They both sat on the couch staring at another with an expression of puzzlement. Scarlet was staring at Jack, as if she were waiting for something to occur. Like a startling metamorphosis in which a person’s whole entire mass and height is suddenly altered to be the size of an insect or doll for instance. Jack’s thoughts were just generally confused by the whole situation. What could he make out of this situation? Nothing, really. He simply scoops away from her until he reaches the armrest lying closest to him. He notices Scarlet repositioning herself into a more formal sitting stance.

“Um, are you waiting for something to happen?” Jack questions with an uncertain tone to his voice.

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

——————————————————————————————————

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*M.N.O.W is not responsible for any disappearances of people who use this product. Use it at your own discretion

*WARNING: We recommend using the preferred quantity of drops for the serum to work effectively if mixed with food or beverages. Anything less or more will potentially dilute or oversaturate the solution, and results may not be as effective as intended.

——————————————————————————————————

“Well, uh, I’m sorry that you feel so alone. I’m not entirely certain what I can do about that, but I was kinda wondering if we could back onto the subject of the job I’m supp–”

“It’s just not fair!” Scarlet suddenly spouts out aloud, interrupting Jack, “How come all the women in my yoga circle get a small man for themselves, but not me! All I have is Gwen, but I want a little man to hold close to me. But so far, this whole shrinking virus affair hasn’t even offered me anything remotely close to that.”

Jack pauses after hearing what Scarlet says. Her words gave a sense of undoubtable skepticism for Jack’s ears. He slowly rotates his upper half to meet the sky-blue eyes of the hostess. His head cocks to the side in muddling uncertainty. “I’m sorry, was the last bit you were talking about?”

“The shrinking virus,” she replies with the utmost seriousness, “You know? The virus that causes infected people to shrink. It’s been a thing going on for the past month or so. There was a whole epidemic about the thing. Have you seriously not heard about it?”

Scarlet waits for a response from Jack as he contemplates this new shocking revelation (at least to him). Jack’s index finger strums along his jawline as it brushes by prickling, stubby hairs. “No,” he answers, attempting to fight back a torrent of fits and giggles. Inevitably, he caves into the ridiculous idea of a virus that shrinks people, and begins to have a nice chuckle at the thought.

“This is a real thing! I’ve had to be quarantined off from work, and I've been trapped in this house for a ridiculously long three weeks because Gwen got it,” Scarlet protests.

“Well if that’s such a big deal, then why did you invite me over? Wouldn’t you also be at risk for catching this ‘shrinking virus’?” Jack retorts.

“I take my supplements. I think I’m more than healthy enough to resist it, unlike some people that I know of.”

“Okay, look,” Jack starts, “I can completely believe that we, as a society, have become scientifically advanced enough that we have created–as well as perfected–technology that shrinks people and objects. I can completely believe that this technology is accessible enough to ask a doctor to prescribe it. I can completely believe that we can bypass the square-cube law, and tinies are now as durable as steel and without risk of dying via a boot. But a virus that shrinks the host it infects, that’s just stupid. I mean, what’s next, the virus is gonna suddenly mutate and only affect men. I mean, that just sounds like some highly improbable explanation for somebody’s fantasy. It’s ridiculous.”

The familiar brass knocker of the front door locks eyes with Jack once again, but not before following the loud slam of the door. Scarlet followed Jack behind with a strong push of her hands, and a long string of berating. Her quick series of light, yet oddly stark, taps kept pushing Jack towards the front entrance until he was completely through it. Before the door could be rudely shut by her, Jack noticed an extremely peeved look on her face. Nothing appearing outright ballistic, but a clear indication of being mildly miffed.

Jack’s head hangs low, and he tackles the first step on the walk of shame back to the car. His eyesight consistently keeping track of the ground and his footsteps. With a hop, skip, and a jump through the cement walkway, Jack made his way to the car. He plops down onto the seat, and starts up the ignition with ease.

“Damn it,” He curses, and drives off back to his apartment.

The drive back to Jack’s apartment was much quicker than the drive towards the destination. Without sparing a second, Jack finally reaches his apartment room and opens the door. Barrenness. A common sight for Jack to witness whenever he steps through the door. A small flat that has little to no furniture, paintings, or anything else to compensate for the overwhelming negative space. One might be given the impression that the entirety of the apartment is abandoned. The only saving grace for the pitiful coop were the few bits of furniture Jack was lucky enough to salvage: A mattress (no bedspring), an old 2000s CRT TV (no stand for it, as it sits on the floor), a bean bag chair, and some beaten up drawer. But material possessions were only a piece of the whole problem for Jack, the rest was simply a matter of money. Never having enough to buy the things he needs, the things he wants. Always scraping by on the skin of his own back, but never enough to simply spend on himself.

Jack sulks over to the bean bag chair. Carefully surveying the chair as he sees that Mouse was nowhere to be found lounging on it. Safe to sit down on without the risk of sitting on someone else. He flops backward onto the cushy material, indenting his body frame into the buoyancy of the chair. Jack’s body slouches as his body carelessly slides, causing his back to curve at an exponential angle. Legs kicking out across the expanse of the carpet, feet lazily slumping to opposite sides. His arms left dangling limply over the arm rests as his hands gently rocks in a motion. He let out a deep sigh, and stared at the blank television set.

He didn’t particularly feel like watching any television. The downward sway of his emotions greatly hindering his mood for anything enjoyable. Jack blankly beheld the dark screen in front of him. His eyes staring with nothing behind them expect a vacant thought. It was like something that was stuck in between the realms of full consciousness, and a corpse. In other words: The lights were on, but nobody was home. He stares at the black screen of his old television, eyes gazing with a dead look and empty thoughts behind them. His reflection mimicking the same action, and staring right back at him.

He sometimes had the thought that maybe he wasn’t gazing at his own reflection, but a different one. Jack wasn’t entirely certain of the image itself, as it appears murky to him. It was like looking into muddled water that was rippling. A blurry visage that was nearly impossible to properly decipher, and yet, was definitely present. Was it really Jack that was staring into his own reflection, or was it someone else entirely?

Jack snaps out of his trance when he feels something tug on his finger. Leaning over his side, he found Mouse right behind the bean bag tugging at his middle finger. A clear sign of pining for Jack’s attention, as he did just arrive not too long ago. Not only did Jack know that Mouse was there to welcome him after a long day’s work, but also to inquire about it as well. Jack’s hand elevates upwards towards the edge of the cushion. Jumping as high as he could, Mouse desperately attempts to latch onto the digit as he would be brought as well. Unfortunately, he’s too late, and the hand went port side. Jack lays out both arms on his lap, and addresses Mouse.

“Hey Mouse,” he greeted defeatedly. Despite the failed attempt to reach him, Jack saw that Mouse was yet deterred. He quickly scampers to his extended leg, and crawls on top of it. Jack hasn’t flinched or twitched to accidentally flick Mouse off, as he trains himself to not do. Mouse carefully balances himself on Jack’s leg. Each step as cautious and precarious as a trapeze performer in the circus. Eventually, Mouse makes his voyage across the leg and to Jack’s lap, where his hands lay lax.

Mouse holds his small hands around Jack’s pinky finger. Extremely miniscule digits softly squeezing the flesh of column-like fingers. Mouse looks up at Jack, and despite his eyes being obscured, Jack fully knew the expression that Mouse had at the moment. Mouse is concerned about him. Jack knew Mouse could sense the unease that was currently strangling him like a python with its prey. Of course, he would want to know what was eating at him, and the time worn answer of ‘It’s nothing’ wouldn’t suffice. No, Jack fully knew that Mouse would simply keep bugging him until he inevitably cracks. Jack thought, ‘I might as well just humor the stubborn little tike.’

“In case you’re wondering, I screwed it up,” Jack answers bluntly. “I drove all the way to the suburbs, and didn’t even get a single dime out of it. She got all pissy at me and rushed me out of the house before I could even start the job. Money’s still gonna be tight around here. Rent’s been paid this month, but food is a different can of worms. Mouse, what am I gonna do? I-I…God.”

Jack fell slack once again. His head hangs back to face the white blankness of the ceiling as he mulls over the situation. Jack felt Mouse swath his small arms around his finger, hugging it tightly as if it were his body. He could feel the tiny hands of Mouse gently rub and pat his digit in an attempt to relieve him. It was comforting, in an odd sort of way. It felt like a caring hug despite the obvious size difference. Jack drapes his other hand behind Mouse in an attempt to bring him closer, smothering the tiny borrower in between his palm and forehand. For a few moments, it was pleasant and soothing. Until, of course, Jack felt something off with Mouse.

There was definitely something on Mouse’s back. It felt round, and crunched like a wrapper when pressing upon it. Jack sneaks his fingers underneath the burly felt of Mouse’s coat, and snatches away the hidden object. Mouse let out a loud squeak as Jack’s colossal fingers forcefully penetrates his garments, seizing the concealed possession. Jack holds the object in view and easily identifies it. It was the snack he was saving for later. A rich, creamy cheese snack that is wrapped in a wax covering and wrapper. The outside of the plastic covering had a large strand of tape attached to it.

Jack stares at Mouse with a disappointing expression. Of course the borrower, dressed like a mouse, would attempt to steal his cheese. A melancholic look appears on Mouse’s face. His head hangs low with the guilt of being caught red-handed. The black, beady buttons on the hood stood agape with remorse–despite the lack of actual expression. It was clear to Jack that Mouse was repentant about the cheese situation. He simply sighs, and drops the cheese snack next to Mouse.

“Go on,” He insists, “You can have it. I’m not really in the mood to have anything at all.”

Mouse looks with uncertainty at first. A quick reassuring nod from Jack giving him the OK to dig in. The borrower unravels the wrapper with a lingering hesitance. Plastic crunches with each grasp from his small hands. With the wrapper gone, next came the wax sealing. Mouse grabs the exposed piece of paper at the top, and heaves downwards against the red colored wax. A thin line of white, creamy cheese fully exposing itself from the peeled line. The rest was easier said than done, and Mouse extracts the fresh snack from the sealing.

Jack simply lays back. Not to sleep, or watch whatever was on television, or even read anything, just to lay back against the cushy material and be there. He felt something small prod against his gut. A minute, yet still very noticeable, poke trying to penetrate through the flesh and fat for attention. Following the odd prick, Jack found Mouse standing by with the cheese held up to him.

“You want to share it?” he asks. Mouse simply nods in response. He reaches down and pinches half of the cheese, but doesn't tear. “Okay, let’s see who can get the bigger portion. We’ll pull on the count of three. Ready? 1…2…3!”

Jack and Mouse began prying at the small, round piece of cheese. Mouse tugs at his end with all the might that a borrower could give. Muscles straining against the colossal strength of his roommate. Jack, on the other hand, didn’t need to exert as much force as his miniscule friend. Yet, the overwhelming difference in size and brawn didn’t save Jack from tearing off a bigger portion. Jack’s fingers begin slipping through the slick surface as the opposing force of each other. In a split second, Jack’s grasp manages to snatch off a small chunk of the round cheese. Mouse fell backwards on his lap with a more than generous wedge of the wheel.

Jack simply chuckles at this. He extends out the smaller piece to Mouse. “Don’t suppose you’ll mind if we traded?”

Mouse eagerly accepts the smaller, and hands off his larger chunk to Jack. The borrower didn’t hesitate for a moment to begin nibbling into the piece. Jack pinches the felt poncho and hoists Mouse into the air. The tiny man slightly swaying in the grasp, but for panicking or even displaying any signs of fear, he shows none. He simply just continues to nibble into the cheese chunk within his hands. Carefully maneuvering Mouse, Jack deposits him into his left breast pocket.

“Alright,” Jack said, a smile cracking on his face, “Why don’t we see what's on TV?” Two button eyes peek over the barrier of cloth, eager as well to see what was on the boobtube. And so, both Jack and Mouse went on enjoying their evening watching television.

——————————————————————————————————

Meanwhile, Val peers through the lens of her microscope. The invisible world of the microscopic in a crystal clear image for her to witness. She was busy studying the current sample underneath the lens. Little blobs of residue microorganisms swim aimlessly around on the saliva sample. Directionless and blissfully drifting around in the small world they inhabited. Unaware of the godly eye that peers above them, who studies them with curious intellect. Shifting the slide around, Val carefully analyzes the environment to locate the virus.

It appears to be an almost fruitless endeavor. However, Lady Luck shines down upon Val, as her eyes bulge with excitement. The robotic shape of the bacteriophage came into view of Val’s sight. The virus swims directly towards the amoeba with vigorous intent. Little appendages kicking with fierce momentum. Reaching the cell in no time flat, the bacteriophage readies to inject the left-over organism. The phage shifts its body down, and injects the syringe-like needle into the cell. After a few moments, the phage begins unlatching itself and drifting aimlessly with other cells.

Val waits for the process of shrinkage to occur. And she waits. And she waits. And she waits. Nothing.

“Damn it!” She curses aloud. Val pushes away from the desktop, and rolls on her office chair towards her phone. Her digits rapidly inputting the number from the dial, Val patiently waits for someone to pick up on the other end. A crack of light suddenly came flooding into the room, breaking away any natural darkness in its path.

“Hey, Ms. Reyes,” A chirper voice rings out. A young black woman steps through the door carrying two coffees with a bag of bagels. Adorning in a similar attire to Val, she set the coffee next to her superior. She peers over at the microscope with mystifying interest. Moving her thick, black framed glass on her forehead, she peeks through the lens of the microscope. “Whatcha got working on here, Ms. Reyes?”

“Nothing, Mel. Nothing but a failed experiment,” Val replies.

“Oh, sorry,” She said with a tinge of embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it, Mel. It’s just the natural process of the scientific method,” Val reassures. She takes the coffee in hand and sips out of it. A smooth blend of cream and sugar washing down her throat, and pleases the senses of her taste buds. “Thanks for the coffee as well.”

The long hold music of the phone suddenly came to an abrupt end when a voice pops up on the other end. It was a bland, all around normal voice that picks up the call and answers, “Hello, who is this?”

“This is Valerie Reyes, lead scientist at M.N.W.O. I have news about the shrinking virus case on Jack.”

“Oh,” the voice piped up in attention, “I assume the virus worked as intended on him?”

“Take one guess as to how it went,” she asks sarcastically.

There was a brief moment of silence on the receiver’s end. The voice was probably contemplating the answer as if the answer wasn't obvious enough. “It didn’t work, did it?”

“No, the virus successfully managed to infect and shrink him–OF FUCKING COURSE IT DIDN’T WORK! He somehow gained an immunity to it!” Val shouts. She leans back into her chair, and pinches at the bridge of her nose.

“Well, what do we do now?” The voice asks, although somewhat timidly, “Should we administer the vaccine to the populace?”

“How effective is the vaccine?”

“Well, the vaccine does manage to successfully fight against the virus. Patients manage to return to their natural height. The regrowth process is pretty slow, but they get there”

“Might as well administer it,” Val says, punctuating it with a long sigh.

There was another moment of pause. The bland voice was silent while they’re most likely gathering their thoughts, “Well, what do we do now?”

Val sighs deeply once more. Her free hand clasps around the face and begins to rub the temples. A dull, throbbing pain courses through the confines of her mind with the painful grace of a bullet through the skull. She opens the top right drawer of her desk. Miscellaneous office materials and other junk freely furling around the small compartment. Val nabs a small bottle of headache medication and pops open the lid. Two small, marmalade colored pills fall out of the unsealed bottle, and are placed onto Val’s open palm. She quickly lobs the small pills into her mouth, and guzzles it down with her coffee.

“We’ll just have to move onto the next plan,” She answers. The migraine medication’s magic kicking into effect as the headache quickly vanishes. “The Macro New World Order project has to be put into effect, and the stone will get rolling when Jack’s out of the equation.

#giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writing #gt writing

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writing-for-life · 2 years ago

Text

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…

youtube

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

#the sandman #sandman #wlw #sandman fanfic #johanna constantine #johanna x rachel #sandman fanfiction #Johanna Constantine x Rachel Moodie #rachel moodie #dream of the endless #sandmanfemslashweekend #not as in-depth as I would have liked #but i finished it

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lifebyinez · 2 years ago

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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.

#emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #emily prentiss #prentiss

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rjjameshiii · 7 months ago

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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

#playstation #playstation trophies #trophy hunting #platinum trophy #ps5 #ps4 #stray #ps5 stray #cats

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subjectively-objective · 8 months ago

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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.

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #prose #original fiction #serial fiction #Arcana 99 #Day One

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annaphoenix1994 · 2 years ago

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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."

#simonghostriley #simonriley #simon riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley #callofduty #simon riley x oc #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost riley #simon riley x og female #simon ghost riley x oc

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thedisneychef · 2 years ago

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thenextdawn-temporarilyclosed · 2 years ago

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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

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