#and last season nothing really happened. the radio thing was a waste of time. the monsters just became more confusing vs gaining any

[comradecowplant]

i don't want spook the nervous filly that is Maybe This Show Wont Suck by saying anything but after being extremely unimpressed with season two (THE CREEPY OLD MAN CHAINED TO THE WALL WAS LITERALLY ABOUT TO TELL YOU ANSWERS ABOUT WHO PUT HIM THERE BOYD WHY DID YOU SHUSH HIM??????? and then tell no one about it for half the season UGH lack of communication that is of obvious mutual benefit in order to keep characters pointlessly confused/at odds with each other is such a lazy writing pet peeve of mine) I think From is really getting back on track this season. An interesting horror-mystery premise with effective creepy-ass monsters that we're seeing a fascinating escalation of this season. Now just don't drop the ball!!! 🤞🤞

[moonpedri]

matching.

summary: though it was spontaneous, you decide to tag along to ibiza when your best friend and her boyfriend invite you. the only problem was his little brother, barcelona's number 8, pedri, and his red swim shorts.

pairing: pedri x reader

genre: fluff, smut (suggestive)

warnings: making out, petting, swearing, pedri is a little shit

word count: 3.2k+

a/n: i orginally had this planned as a little imagine. if you've read honey, you may remember a beach scene being mentioned very briefly. and since i recently got a similar request, i fleshed everything a little more out and birthed out this big baby lmao. hope you enjoy!!🤍

PS: while proof-reading i noticed that i completely messed up the timelines, this fic actually happens before honey and not after, but oh well. 😭 this is super annoying but i liked the way this fic turned out so deal with it pls 🥺i may turn this into a little ibiza trip series with multiple parts and other places!!

────────────

It is the middle of summer and the sun was blazing unforgivingly over you that not even your sunshade could help you escape from the heat.

You look at your friends over the rim of your sunglasses, as some of them currently play around in the water. The radio stations all reported well above average numbers for the coming weeks and so naturally your friends would want to go on vacation somewhere near the beach.

Originally you had nothing special planned for the summer, but since your best friend Sofía is dating Fernando González, who just happens to be the older brother of Pedri González, Barcelona's young star-midfielder, you somehow happened to get dragged along to Ibiza.

This wasn't a rare occasion, because ever since Sofía started dating Fernando, you ended up with this whole new lifestyle consisting of football matches, special events, galas and travel.

And with FC Barcelona winning LaLiga and the season ending, all the players want to make the most off their freetime.

"Fer wants to book the tickets, __, you're coming with, right?", Sofía asked you last week. It was super spontaneous and honestly you were a bit annoyed that you got asked so late, giving you no time to prepare or clear your schedule (not that you had much written on it anyways lol)

But you would also lie if the idea of going to Ibiza didn't excite you. You always wanted to go to the infamous "party" island, but it was a costy dream - one you couldn't afford. Well, until now.

So you agreed and found yourself only 5 days later at your dream destination. One of the perks of having a friend like Sofía is that with trips like these, you didn't have to pay a cent. As a close friend, the whole thing basically got financed for you. Only shopping expenses and maybe food you had to cover yourself - of course.

The single downside of it all was the fiancier of it all himself: Pedri.

Ironic, right?

But there was no way you couldn't feel that way towards him. He is simply infuriating. When the two of you were introduced to each other over dinner at their home, Pedri wasted no time trying to subtly smooth his way into your pants.

It was almost unnoticeable to be honest and you know no one paid attention, but you did. You noticed how his arm brushed your shoulder, how his hand grabbed your waist when he wanted to move past you and his hips grazed your ass. It seemed like his eyes were glued to your cleavage and somehow no one took notice.

In his defense though, you weren't a saint either. Where he pulled, you just let yourself get tugged along. When he moved past, you purposely arched your back; just to test the waters and pushed out your chest to maybe rile him up a bit; you don't know really.

There was something entertaining about an attractive guy like Pedri showing his interest for you so blatantly and pursuing you in such a secretive way.

Yet for all it's worth, you never went further than touching and looking, sneaking a kiss here and there. It's clear what type of guy Pedri is, if all the buzz around his rather promiscuous love life, filled with influencers and models, is any indication.

You heard what people said, what the articles reported. Pedri is young, rich and successful, he would be a fool to immediately pursue a serious relationship at that stage in his life. He liked to enjoy life, be wild in his early 20s and keep the monogamy for later.

And it's not like you could blame him, honestly. You're sure that if your roles were switched, you would enjoy his lifestyle too to an extent. You are you though.

And you wanted something serious, someone to treat you with respect and loyalty. Surely, Pedri saw you more as a way of passing time, just having his fun with you. But you had enough self-respect to not give in to his troublsome ways.

Also, you barely had the nerves to put up with all that.

That's what you liked to tell yourself at least.

With a sigh you turn your head to where Sofía suddenly sits up. You're about to close your eyes again, ready to fall under the sun's mercy, when you hear your best friend scoff next to you.

You bring your sunglasses up and follow her sight. "Can you fucking believe that?", she says agitated.

A loud giggle errupts and you watch as two girls talk animatedly with both Fernando and Pedri.

The brunette one subtly scratches over Fernando's arm, as she seems to listen intently to whatever he's saying. Fer doesn't really engage her, keeps his visible distance, though Sofía doesn't seem to care. Her eyes shoot daggers in their direction.

What bothers you though was the blonde one clinging like a koala onto Pedri. She seems so....you can't find the word but it irritates you. And he did absolutely nothing about it, actually rather enjoying it. Not that he shouldn't of course, but he could keep his distance as well. Also, you didn't want to have to deal with two horny people during your vacation (one you didn't pay for but you get the gist), and an angry best friend, if they were to stay.

It also doesn't help that Pedri looks the way he does. Absolutely gorgeous.

You never thought to be admitting to this but he almost looks like sex-on-legs in those red swim shorts of his. The sun burned his skin in the most beautiful way possible, accentuating his natural blush and his slim but toned body. It's been nothing but torture the entire day.

The two of you watch them for another minute, none of the brothers noticing any of your hard stares, when Sofía stands up determined. "If he wants to play, I'll play."

When she notices your indifferent state, she looks at you expectantly.

"What?", you ask.

"Come on, I can't do this alone."

Reluctant you get up as well and shake non-existent sand off your legs. "I don't know Sof...Fer doesn't really seem too into it."

She cocks an eyebrow and the expression on her face says enough for you to not press any further.

"Yeah, yeah alright.", you say. You don't know what plan she has in mind exactly but you follow her anyway. You get increasingly confused when she proceeds to take her bag and go to the changing rooms. She closes the door behind you and rummages in her bag and only when she pulls something out, you realize the absolute stupid plan she has.

No, you don't think even scriptwriters could come up with such silly ideas.

"I cannot believe you."

In her hands are, what you believe to be, the flimsiest bikini pieces you have ever seen.

"I always pack a pair or two for emergencies.", she says and gives you a pair. A red brazilian bikini, the ones with high-cut strings. "And as you can see, this is an emergency."

You hold the garments up. "I thought Fer doesn't like you wearing those, why did you pack them for emergencies?", you ask confused.

Fernando is a sweetheart. You really think there could have been no one more perfect for your best friend than him. He's not controlling, always puts her first and you genuinely believe that he always has her best interests in mind. Fer is not the type to forbid Sofía anything, especially not in regards of clothes. He let's her wear whatever she wants, no matter how short or ridiculous it looks. However, for some reason, he has often voiced his strong dislike towards those brazilian bikini bottoms that recently started trending.

It didn't bother Sofía at all, she didn't really wear them often anyways. But you guess she never got rid of them either.

"Precisely that's why. Also, they tan better.", she says as she takes out a white pair for herself. You don't think she really understood your question and you make a point to ask her later. For now though, you have another problem at hand.

"Ok ok, so you try to rile him up one way or the other. I get it. But why do I have to wear one as well?"

Sofía looks at you like it's so obvious and you're dumb for even asking, "Because there's two of those skanks? We can drive one off, but as long as the other stays, none of them will leave."

Your brows shoot up and you groan frustrated at what this means. "Oh come on, Pedri is not that bad.", Sofía reasons.

If only she knew, you thought. You want to protest but you think back to the blonde girl that threw herself onto Pedri and something bad bubbles up in your stomach.

With new determination you two change and make your way back to the beach. Sofía looks gorgeous in the bikini and for all it's flimsiness you think it suits you pretty good as well. Okay, who are you kidding. It looks fucking sexy on you, hugging you in all the right spots and making your ass look extra perky.

And you know you're not the only one who thinks so, as you feel the eyes of several men and women alike on both of you.

It gets even more apparent when two certain brothers look your way. Comically enough, the two girls shamelessly joined them on your sunbeds. By now your other friends joined as well and Sofía walks in front of you to where the others are; pointedly ignoring Fernando's presence.

You aren't as strong-willed though and can't help but sneak a look at Pedri. He already looks back at you, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes scan your entire body.

You immediately turn your head back, feeling your cheeks heat up stupidly enough, despite the weather, and sit next to Miguel.

"Ohh, what's the occasion?", Samuel whistles when you two settle down.

Sofía shrugs and you feel uncomfortable with all eyes on you. It becomes worse when the conversations stop as well suddenly and Fer stands up. "Why did you change?"

"Felt like it. Also we can tan better now.", Sofía says indifferent.

He frowns, "But you looked pretty before." Bless his heart you think.

Sofía ignores him, and you think she's going a bit too far but it's not your relationship to intervene. "Samuel can you help put sunscreen on my back, I can't quite reach it."

The flabbergasted look on Fernando's face was both priceless and heartbreaking to see and you slowly begin feeling bad.

"What?"

"Sure."

Both answer at the same time and you grimace at the awkwardness. Fer goes and grabs the bottle out of her hands, the pretty brunette completely forgotten already. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I don't know what you mean."

He turns to the rest of you with an apologetic but upset expression, "Will you excuse us for a moment?"

He proceeds to take Sofía to a more quiet place on the beach. You see them argue in the distance but ultimately decide that for now it's not your business anymore.

Samuel and Loréna already went back into the water, Pedri is occupied with the two girls and only Miguel was with you.

The sun hasn't gotten any less warm and now that you wore this criminal bikini, you could at least put it to good use, right? So you take the sunscreen and hold it out to Miguel. "Can you?", you say pointing to your back.

It takes him a moment to understand what you mean, but when he does, he nods and reaches out but someone else happens to be faster than him. "Let me do it."

You look into Pedri's honey eyes.

Next to you, the blonde girl scoffs and regards you with an angry face. Miguel leaves as well and you want to say something to stop him, begging him not to leave you alone, but Pedri beats you to it. "Turn around and lay down." His voice is firm and it unwillingly sends shivers down your spine.

And for some reason you listen.

Your stomach retracts slightly when your belly touches the cold sunbed. But you forget everything the moment the cool sunscreen touches your skin and Pedri begins spreading it.

It's too sensual for your liking and he's gentler than you thought. Pedri goes all the way up to your neck, massaging the spot thoroughly and when he slowly goes down, his hands reach under your bikini top. Embarrassingly enough, pleasure fills your lower stomach.

Yet, you don't know what overcomes you, but attraction makes you do stupid things, so you simply reach behind your back and open the knot. "It'll be easier.", you explain with a small voice.

You get an answer in the form of his hands, when Pedri touches the exact spot and slowly glides his hands to your sides. His index fingers barely graze the sides of your boobs and goosebumps erupt all over your body.

If Pedri notices, he doesn't say anything.

Instead he just continues spreading the cream all the way to your lower back, his fingers once again invading places he shouldn't, much to your own excitement though.

It's quiet the entire time, you barely register Miguel talking with the two abandoned girls and going away with them. Light chatter and laughs, the splashing of water and the moist sound of Pedri spreading the sunscreen are the only audible things around you.

But you should know by now that it's only a matter of time before Pedri decides to ruin peaceful moments.

"Need me to put some on your ass as well?"

Shameless is the only word good enough to describe the football player. "In your dreams maybe.", you say and turn your head to watch him through your glasses.

His eyes are glued to your backside, "Oh if only you knew, princess."

You bind your bikini top back together and sit up, "You're stupid, González."

"For you, yeah."

You resist the urge to punch him and ignore the fact that it affects you more than what is condemned good. "Will you stop?"

"Why, do I make you nervous?"

You cross your arms over your chest, his eyes immediately zoning in on the movement. You (un)consciously press them together tighter, for no particular reason.

"No."

"Really?", he extends the 'e' sound and leans forward. Not expecting him to, you automatically fall back. He grabs the edge of the sunshade and pulls it down until it completely hides the two of you.

"What are you doing, they'll see us!"

Pedri chuckles and you can't help but peak at his pink lips, only inches away from yours now. "That's what you're worried about?"

"What else?" You think maybe the heat has gotten to your head, but really it's just Pedri's presence on top of you.

You see the way Pedri's mouth opens, ready to continue the banter but with his entire body pressed into yours, his natural scent mixed with the sea, his honey eyes boring into yours and exploring your entire face and his hands itching on your hips, you do the only thing possible in this situation.

You grab his neck and smash your lips against his.

He responds immediately, reciprocating the kiss. You hate how good it feels and despite how confusing it is with him, no moment has ever been clearer than right now.

A whine leaves your mouth when Pedri presses his hips into yours, the pleasure inmessurable. It's an indecent thing to do at a public beach (even though this is a private part of the beach Pedri specifically rented for the vacation) so he pulls back but right now you can't care at all.

All rationality leaves your body when you grab his red shorts by the hem and pull him back. You cling your legs around his back thighs and butt.

"Woah there, sugar, slow down.", he laughs, while caringly pushing a loose strand of hair out of your face.

Honestly, you would be flustered in any other moment but this. You can't think straight, the need to have him currently overweighting any other feeling.

His left hand slides from your waist to your ass, massaging the flesh. His other hand is clasped around your jaw, keeping your lips firm against ist.

You lose yourselves in the moment, Pedri's left hand close to where you need it the most. It's embarrassing how easy his fingers manage to slip under your bikini. And when he touches your clitoris, you're on cloud nine.

Your hands wander down to his beautiful red shorts and waist no time to wrap around his dick.

He groans into the kiss, "Fuck."

You begin moving your hand up and down and that's when all the weight on top of you suddenly disappears. "Shit, I hate to be the one, but we-"

"Yeah, I know.", you immediately cut him off and organize yourself a bit. Your head spins a bit, everything going too fast for you. Your body and mind haven't completely sobered up yet, and it stings a bit to be turned down like this. It's also confusing. But he's right.

Pedri seems to read you well enough by now, when he says, "It's not because I don't want to."

You hold up your hand, not ready for any kind of rejection, "I'm not dumb, Pedri. This is the fucking beach." Yet you wonder if he would have gone further if it was the pretty blonde and not you.

He goes through his hair and laughs, "Not because of that. My brother is coming and I don't think now is the time to explain ourselves, is it?"

You immediately spin around and indeed, Fernando and Sofía are walking in your direction; hand-in-hand, you might add. Luckily they seem too focused on one another and their ice cream to notice you and Pedri.

When you turn back, Pedri winks at you. "I'll choose a more private place next time."

You scoff, "There will be no next time."

He rubs his chin thoughfully and looks at you in an actingly confused way, "The way you were going at it, I could have sworn you were down for another- Ow!"

You hit Pedri angrily, the redness on your face surely visible, "Don't ever mention that again."

"And what if I do?", he smirks cockily.

"Pedri!"

"__!", he imitates in a high voice and this time you can't help but laugh. You roll your eyes playfully and shove him away. It gets increasingly hard to not crush on him. Maybe you already do.

The sunshade moves then and Fer and Sofía hop next to you two.

"Nice to see that you two love birds made up, I was beginning to worry.", you comment and Sofía lovingly puts her head on Fer's shoulder.

You four chat around a bit more, when Fernando suddenly chuckles and points at you and Pedri. Confused, you both look at him.

"You two look more like a couple than we do. Did you notice that you're matching?"

You did, in fact, not notice. And neither it seems, did Pedri.

You make a gaggig noise then and shoot up, "Whatever, I am going to change."

Pedri follows close behind, "Want me to help?"

"Shut up!"

────────────

© moonpedri - DO NOT copy, translate or post my work anywhere without my permission!

[ro-writesstuff]

GIRLLL we need the part 2 of choises where ollie continues his life without y/n by his side but he still keeps in touch with her like after every race he sends a voice mail and also still sends messages even though he knows that y/n won't reply. It was hard for both of them, when you know how desperately you need each other and there's nothing you can do about it. Y/n always listened and replayed the voicemails that Ollie sent, at least it cured her longing. She still watched ollie's races, he was progressing well from race to race and felt a little relieved that her decision to break up with ollie could make him focus more on his racing, seeing him on the podium and smiling, it was the thing she wanted most in her life. But y/n was unaware of the fact that all of his smile was fake. Yeah, he was happy that his performance had improved but it was all nothing without y/n. He became quieter than usual, not more cheerful and even more moody, blue vibe, and once arthur caught him crying alone. Maybe during y/n's graduation, he came and brought a bouquet of her favourite chocolates and asked her to come back to his side? Idk brooo just get them a happy ending istg😔👊🏻❤

Ollie Bearman- Ultimatum

a/n: here is the long awaited part 2 of choices. the end is kinda sucky but we all know i can't end fics like this lol. enjoy!

summary: part 2 to this post.

pairing: ollie bearman x childhoodfriend!reader

warnings: cursing, angst, sad ollie

word count: 1503

not my gif!

Hey. It’s me. Uh, I hope this is still your number. I’m about to get ready for quali in Barcelona. Wish you were here to see it. Know you’ve always wanted to come here. Anyway. Bye. 

Hi. Sorry if these are getting redundant but I’m about to qualify in Vegas. I know you’re only four hours away. Ollie takes on America, I guess…  Miss you, Y/N. 

Hi. Abu Dhabi race! Last one of the season! ‘Bout to qualify. Look, I know it’s been almost a year and I’m not trying to convince you to get back together with me but I want to see if we can- What? But I- ugh. Shit, sorry, I gotta go, but… Come back to the paddock, love. 

That one caught your attention. 

Come back to the paddock, 

Love. 

It had been almost a year since you left Ollie. Though you mostly felt bad about how you left things, there was a part of you that had made peace with it. You both had your own lives to live and your goals that weren’t lining up with each other’s. So why try at something that’s wasting your time?

You missed him though. You missed the pre-race rituals where Ollie held you tight in his arms hearing the joyful shouts and clamor of the outside world, thinking of nothing but each other until Arthur practically ripped down Ollie’s door to get him into his car. When he raced, you knew he thought of you. He made it very clear that you were a priority to him all the time. Although radio chats clearly proved otherwise, you knew in the back of your mind that he was thinking of you. 

~

“Ollie, you need to box mate. Box.”

“But she said to not because-”

“What? Box, Ollie, box.”

“No! Please, I can’t-”

“Sorry Ollie, team orders. Box. Box.”

~

You checked in on him every once in a while, of course wishing him all the best in his career. You watched some of his interviews and still followed Ferrari. You were never going to completely abandon him; you still considered him a good friend. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you never thought about him a lot. He looked and seemed happy through the screen that you viewed him through, his bubbly personality shining through his dazzling smile that you missed oh-so-much. Sometimes your mind had wondered what happened if you came back that night. Would you have figured it out? Would the outcome be the same? Was Ollie really going to desert F2 and possibly F1 just for you? 

You always forced those thoughts out of your head; they weren’t something that was a part of your life anymore. 

Similarly, Ollie felt the same. He could and would never cease thinking about you, even in the most serious of situations. He’d notice small mannerisms in other people that you had, like scratching your nose when you were anxious, and would be reminded of you through certain inflictions in peoples’ words. His pre-race ritual was never the same, knowing that the cuddles and silent comfortable moments you once had would never return. Arthur, being the good friend that he is, even offered Ollie cuddles and extra support when you’d left, but it never was the same for him. 

Now though, you were currently about to attend your graduation party for university. After you and Ollie’s incident, you moved as far as you could from him to focus on yourself and your career. You moved to the States after a month-long debate with yourself as well as your parents. You worked so hard to get yourself into and through school, buying yourself an apartment, and spent many of your days in your new environment with strangers who eventually turned into friends. You had turned over a new leaf, and you felt like a new person.

You could almost say that you had forgotten about Ollie. 

Almost. 

Your parents had thrown you a huge party to celebrate your accomplishments throughout the past few years. They had invited extended family as well as your old friends from elementary school. You flew in a couple of days before your party, getting used to the time difference, reverting back to your old ways of life before you left. 

It was nice to be home, the comfort of your childhood house and environment made you at ease, along with your family and friends you hadn’t seen in a while. Your parents did a good job of decorating the house, placing framed pictures of you in the front room, balloons covering every normally empty corner. You saw family members who you hadn’t seen in years, chatting with them until somebody else stole you away. A couple of hours went by, and a few speeches were made courtesy of your parents and a few close relatives. You felt normal for the first time in a while. 

That’s when you turned and made eye contact with him. Ollie. 

You felt your stomach drop. Why was he here? How could your parents invite him? How do you address what happened? Of course you knew the answers, you were smart enough to figure out your next move, but your mind spiraled as soon as you saw his warm, brown eyes. You excused yourself from the conversation you were having, speed walking to the bathroom. You locked the door and took a moment for yourself.

Okay, you thought. Just act normal and pretend like you didn’t walk out on him. Easy. 

You fixed yourself up and walked back out into the organized chaos. 

About an hour later people started to leave, wishing you luck in the next stage of your life, telling you how proud they are and all that. But all you could think about was him. 

After everyone cleared out, you walked back to your kitchen seeing Ollie having a conversation with your dad.

His eyes flicked over to yours, hesitantly looking back to your dad’s. “Oh, um. Sorry sir, do you mind if I…”

“Go ahead.” Your dad smiled and walked out of the kitchen as Ollie headed towards you. 

He anxiously took in a breath in as you studied his figure. He was standing slightly hunched over, wearing a white button down shirt with navy blue pants. You’d always told him that the blue pants looked better on him, a nice contrast to the black and red he wears. 

His voice was low. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?” You slightly smiled. When Ollie would come to your house unannounced when you were little, it would bring you so much joy. 

“Dunno,” He said, sighing. “Was your big day, and I had to be all dramatic and show up I guess.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest; a sound you haven’t heard in a long time. 

“Oh, um, those are for you,” He said, gesturing towards a box of candy surrounded by envelopes and stuffed animals on a table. “I know you probably haven’t had those in a while. You know, moving to the States and all.” 

It shocked you that he still remembered the smallest things, showing that he still really cared about you. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you, you were surprised it wasn’t an awkward one. 

“I just want us to be normal again. I can’t stand not having you in my life, Y/N. There’s this hole that you left and I’ve been trying to fix it with racing, my family. Fuck, I’ve even starting up knitting. And I get that you’ve moved on and have healed and everything, so I get it if you don’t want to do this, but I need you back in my life. This time it’ll be different, Y/N. I promise.”

You gauged the situation. Did you really believe that things could be the same after what happened? He was the sweetest most genuine person you’ve ever encountered, but would he still want more after you established you were just friends? You fought yourself back and forth,  surprising yourself of what came out of your mouth:

“Okay.” 

“I promise I won’t- wait what?” He expression changed, 

“Okay. We can try to be friends again. That’s it though. No reminiscing of our romantic relationship, no calling me late at night because you can’t sleep. None of that. I can’t do that again, Ol.”

“Okay. Deal.” 

All of what you felt that night started coming back, the guilt returning to your chest. This boy was  utterly in love with you, and you completely fucked him over. 

“Ollie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just up and left. You deserved better than that.” You looked down at the floor, internally cringing at your past mistake. You were embarrassed. 

“It’s okay. I forgive you, Y/N.”

“Thanks.”

“So, friends again?”

“Yeah.”

It made your heart happy knowing that you and Ollie were okay, but something inside you knew that it would never be the same.

[dirteater69]

here’s something that i wrote in february. its a segment of a fic i’ve been writing since last year, that i might post if i ever finish it. its about the killjoys ten years or so before the music videos, when they’ve just escaped battery city and are fighting in the analog wars as teenagers.

There’s a lot more waiting in war than Party expected.

That’s not to say that they expected much about war — they barely knew there was a war happening before they were dropped into it like oil in water, like a fish into a desert — but they had their ideas, set up by movies and assorted Americana folklore. This war is not much like those ideas. There’s no uniforms, for one, at least not on the side they’re fighting on. There’s no mustachioed generals walking around with sticks up their asses that yell at you if you’re not enthusiastic enough about killing other human beings. There’s no melodramatic longing for the home front, for the women and children only seen in photographs in lockets, because the war is taking place in the zones, which Party has come to know as their home whether they like it or not, and because women and people-who-are-practically-children go out and fight in it just as much as anyone else. Party’s yet to have a friend bleed out in their arms on the battlefield, which they’re very thankful for, but they do think that if they attempted that, they’d be gunned down before anyone could say the first word of a bleeding heart monologue.

Some things do line up with their expectations. None of Party’s closest friends have died yet, but that’s not to say that people don’t die, because they certainly do. There’s the direct deaths in the battles, but there’s also those who’ve died of festering infections weeks after they got the wounds, or of diseases, or amputations gone wrong — these are the kind of topics that come up when you try to have a conversation with your best friend who works in the medical tents. There’s those who took too much of what everyone takes to numb the pain, and passed out in a pool of their own vomit, and then never woke up. Some people just disappear: they might silently get out of their sleeping bag one cruel night and walk off into the stars, leaving only a memory and a pair of boots bound to get taken by someone else because, hey, who would waste a good pair of boots in a time like this; or they might get dragged off screaming on the battlefield by someone dressed in the whites and blacks of the enemy, one of the few unlucky chosen ones grabbed for rehabilitation in the big bad battery, or else turned into a masked and mindless weapon if they won’t comply.

There’s a lot of fear. Fear and worry, as well as rage and indignation, despair and nihilism. Impatience. Mania. Apathy. Hope. After a while, everyone’s grasping at straws to feel something, and not everyone’s sure they even want to.

The smell is bad. Party didn’t really expect that, but they can’t say it surprises them.

But they definitely didn’t expect all the waiting. Between the battles and attacks, you are obviously waiting for more battles and attacks, but you’re waiting for more than that. You’re waiting for news: partially reports from spies, strategy and intelligence regarding the elusive Other Side, but you’re also waiting to hear something exciting on the radio. Is there a party or a market happening soon? How shall we drown our sorrows tonight? If you’re Party, or another of the two dozen or so people in the zones like them, you’re sometimes waiting to be called to a strategy meeting. Party doesn’t really know shit about strategy meetings, at least they didn’t the first few times they attended them, but they got a feeling it made people feel better to think that they did, so they did their best to pretend.

Really, a lot of the waiting in war is like the seasons, like how you want it to be cold when it’s hot and hot when it’s cold. When nothing is happening, you want something to be happening; when something is happening, you want nothing to be happening. That’s how it is for Party, at least.

There is also waiting during the actual battles, though. If you’re pulling an ambush — like Party and those on their side like to do — then you’ll be waiting a while until you’re given a signal and get to actually start the fight. Even beyond that, though, there’s a lot of waiting in battle. Looking at it from the outside, it might not look like there’s any possible pauses, but it’s very different in the heat of the action. You’re always waiting for something: a new strike or shot to hit you, a new enemy closing up on you with hardly any time to retaliate, a new order shouted out barely audible over the gunshots, a new plan to form in your mind.

Party’s currently waiting for all of these. They’re crouched behind a car that has, at some point in the past ten minutes since the battle began, tipped over onto its side. They’ve never seen the bottom of a car before. Sadly, they won’t get much of a chance to look at it now, because they’re currently busy desperately reloading their blaster. They spent the final bits of their last battery pack making a couple of particularly rowdy Draculoids see the light of heaven, and now they’re hurrying to get back into the game before something similar happens to them. They fumble getting the handle open: they’re high on adrenaline and a few other things, and the roaring and blasting of the battle pulls their mind in all sorts of directions. They’d’ve thought they’d be used to it by now — or, at least deaf enough to ignore it better.

The handle of the gun comes open with a satisfying click, and they barely have to think in order to reload and close it again, pure muscle memory. This proves itself very useful when, as if on cue, a white-dressed BL/ind soldier jumps around the corner of the car with a glowing shotgun pointed at them. Party doesn’t get a good look at the soldiers face: they turn it into a mess of brain matter and burning flesh before anything else can happen. Ray gun wounds are messy.

Party scrambles up from their spot against the car to inspect the body, wearily glancing around themselves, the way you have to on a battlefield. They consider looting the body, but they don’t have the time; besides, this is just a toy soldier, and it’s usually only the Scarecrows or Exterminators that have good stuff on them. The shotgun could be worth taking, though, so they do. It’s heavy, and bright white — like most things BL/ind made. Their blaster’s still a little too hot to holster, but they do it anyway.

They crouch to protect their body as they creep around the car, taking in the battle. It’s what it always is. Something like a thunderstorm: car motors and shitty zone-made bombs create a sea of gray clouds; ray guns blast out neon lightning, beautiful and skin-scorching, always just a few inches away from hitting one vital organ or another. There’s people all around, Zonerunners and BL/ind troops shooting and stabbing and hitting and screaming. The shotgun is a little uncomfortable in Party’s hands, they’ve only used one a few times, but they’re good enough to take down a couple of Draculoids that they spot rushing at them. Four or five of the bastards down in fifteen seconds, max.

They run a sweaty hand through their hair and take a split second to consider the situation. There was a big strategy talk before this, they’re sure, but they can hardly remember any of it. This is a siege, right? A siege of a BL/ind base, somewhere in zone 2, definitely. Or zone 1.

The car behind Party shakes, and they stagger away from it, shotgun grasped tight. It’s caught on fire, the car — someone’s thrown a bomb at it, and now it’s tipping over. They bolt forward, still crouching like they have to. They glance around and spot a Drac and Zonerunner guy wrestling in the sand twenty or so feet away. Neither of them have their blasters, but they’re choking and punching and clawing at each other, and the Drac has got the Zonerunner under it with a hand on his neck.

Before Party knows it, they’re kicking the Drac of the Zonerunner, and then in the ribs a few times for good measure, until it’s no longer moving. Wordlessly, they hand the Zonerunner their shotgun — he clearly needs it more than them — and pull out their blaster to carry onwards.

Were they supposed to be doing something specific in this battle? They weren’t, right? They would almost definitely remember if they were. Almost. They comb through the mess of chemicals and fantasies that they call a brain and try to find any sort of mission, any sort of plan or direction, but they get nothing. Hopefully, the fact that they don’t remember anything important means that they don’t have anything important to remember.

There’s a loud blast behind them. It’s louder than the car falling over, louder than all the bombs around them combined, louder than anything they’ve ever heard. It’s like a gunshot and a punch in the face all at once. They spin around, and in the distance, beyond the metal fence of the BL/ind base — they were right, it is a siege — is a red form with glowing black eyes, two hundred feet tall. It’s made out of sand and smoke and carnage, with a gaping maw full of scrap metal teeth, and it’s lumbering towards the battle on four blurry but certainly real legs.

Their first thought when they see it is that the colors are all wrong. It’s supposed to be a black form with glowing red eyes, not the other way around, and surely something black can’t glow. But the black eyes of this monster are surely glowing. Their second thought is that they don’t know who it’s aligned with. They would know about it if it was a secret weapon of the Zonerunners, and it’s far too colorful of a monster for BL/ind to use, so the only other option is that it’s here to destroy all of them.

Their third thought is their about ray gun.

They look down at it, in their hand. Yellow-painted and nimble, freshly loaded. It’s taken many lives, this ray gun, but Party knows it would be ridiculous to try to defeat that giant with it. All of the weapons of the Zonerunners and BL/ind combined couldn’t take it down. It is going to eat Battery City and have the desert for dessert.

Still, it’s worth a try.

Party raises the blaster to the monster, but when they look up to aim, it’s gone. There is nothing but the battle, and beyond that the fence, and beyond that the sky. It’s gray. Too pale to be the night, too dark to be the day — is it evening or morning, right now?

Another BL/ind soldier charges at them from the left, blaster aloft and yelling, and Party takes her down with two shots. It’s a really dumb strategy to do alone, running at someone and yelling; especially when you have a ray gun that could just kill them from a distance. At least she had a flare for the dramatic, Party thinks, as they step over her corpse and look around the thunderstorm. She will be sorely missed, or not — if she will, it’s not by Party.

They start to run towards the direction that they saw the monster, for lack of a better plan. Maybe they’re looking for something. It’s unclear. A mean-looking Exterminator sets his eyes on them, and they fire off a series of shots at him. The sky remains a confusing gray.

Suddenly, when the fence is only fifty or so feet away, they start to feel horribly dizzy. It’s like all of reality has been flipped upside down, but they’ve been left still and hanging. They try to take a step forward. They’re not sure if they succeed. A convulsion strikes through their body. There’s a little vomit in their mouth, and the texture is weird. They can’t remember what they last ate.

Then, the world spins around them, and all they see is the uncaring gray of the morning-evening sky.

[limnsaber]

In the 1981 Star Wars Radio Drama, Luke Skywalker and his best friend Biggs Darklighter reunite on Tatooine for one last trip through Beggar's Canyon.

-------

Biggs: Well, they're right about one thing, Luke. The rebellion against the Empire is a long way from here. You know, I doubt the Imperials would bother with this system.

Luke: But I could've sworn I saw-

Biggs: Hey, c'mon, I'll tell you what, let's take a spin in that landspeeder of yours, huh? I'd like to take one last look at Beggar's Canyon, y'know, for old times' sake?

Luke: Sure Biggs. Boy, you should've been there the other day when we ran the canyon. Fixer started bragging about how 'he could do anything that Biggs could do,' you know, so I said 'hey if you're so smart why don't you try...'

Luke: ...yeah, and Fixer just pretended it never happened. Course, my Skyhopper's busted up pretty bad.

Biggs: Oh, I'm sure that made your uncle happy.

Luke: You have no idea. I'm grounded for the rest of the season.

Biggs: Nah, nah, you oughtta take it a little easier, Luke. I mean even if you are the hottest gully jumper this side of Mos Eisley, you keep it up buddy and one day, whammo, you'll be nothing but a dark smear on a canyon wall.

Luke: Hey, why'd you want me to come out to Beggar's Canyon anyway?

Biggs: Like I said, old times' sake. I mean, who knows when I'll be back this way, right?

Luke: I guess. Well, there it is, the old stone needle. You know, you can see practically the whole canyon from this part of the rim.

Biggs: Yeah. Hah, I don't know how I lived through all the crazy stunts we pulled down here.

Luke: I remember some of those. Boy, if we had the 'hopper now we could give those womp rats a surprise.

Biggs: Oh sorry, I am now valuable property. Keeping in mind the expense of cadet training, all graduates shall refrain from unnecessary risk-taking.

Luke: You? They happen to know how many stabilizer veins you bent up on the back stretch down there? Or how about the time you almost wiped out the stone needle?

Biggs: I figured it was better not to mention those to my piloting instructors.

Luke: Boy, it hasn't been the same since you left Biggs. It's been so... quiet.

Biggs: Hah, I'll bet.

Luke: Yeah, you were always number one around here, Biggs. You were the one who made things happen.

Biggs: Well it's a big galaxy, Luke. At the Academy, everybody was number one back where they came from. All of a sudden I was just a face in the crowd.

Luke: Yeah, but you made it, Biggs. You're going to see all those places we used to talk about.

Biggs: Yeah. Luke, did you ever wonder why we're friends?

Luke: Huh?

Biggs: The rest of them, back at Anchorhead, they'll never leave Tatooine. Maybe never get as far as Mos Eisley. Have you ever thought about that?

Luke: Well, not exactly like that I haven't.

Biggs: Fixer's just smart enough to know he's better off being a big noise in a small room. Camie's dumb enough to think she's made the prize catch hereabouts, and Windy's nothing but a follower and Deak's the follower of a follower.

Luke: But- what are you saying, Biggs?

Biggs: You will make it off Tatooine, Luke. And they know it. That's why they won't accept you.

Luke: Huh. Well, they're not so bad, I don't really mind them.

Biggs: Then how come you work so hard at being the hottest pilot around, huh? Hey-- did you see that? Off in the far side of the canyon.

Luke: What, where-- Sand People!

Biggs: You got your macros?

Luke: Yeah, right here.

Biggs: Yep, three banthas and it looks like five Tusken Raiders.

Luke: Yeah?

Biggs: They're moving out towards... the wastes.

Luke: Hey I'm supposed to keep a watch out for them at the farm, my uncle said that there have been some sightings around here, I should get back.

Biggs: I don't think its anything to worry about.

Luke: Well, that's a little excitement for your visit.

Biggs: You only think this planet's boring because you've never been anywhere else, Luke. Luke, I didn't-- I didn't come home just for a visit. If I don't come back, I wanted somebody to know.

Luke: What? Honestly, Biggs, will you stop being so secretive.

Biggs: Luke, I made some friends at the Academy. And one of them will be on the Rand Ecliptic with me. At our first port of call in the inner systems, we're going to jump ship and join the Rebel Alliance!

Luke: But that's crazy! You could wander around forever trying to find them-- look, the Empire can't even find them.

Biggs: Well if we don't find the rebels then we're going to do what we can on our own! I'm not hanging around to get drafted into the Imperial Starfleet. The rebellion's spreading, Luke, and I want to be on the side I believe in!

Luke: Yeah, and I'm stuck here.

Biggs: What? I thought you were going to the Academy next year.

Luke: I had to cancel my application. You know, the Sand People acting up again.

Biggs: C'mon, Luke! Your uncle could hold off a whole Tusken raiding party with one blaster. One of these days, buddy, you gotta separate what seems important from what is!

Luke: But the farm's just about to start paying off. Look, Uncle Owen needs me one more season. Biggs, I can't just run out on him and Aunt Beru now.

Biggs: Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, first it was Sand People and now it's the crop. Meanwhile, your application's been cancelled, Luke! Cancelled! Luke, listen to me. Your uncle uses that 'I fed you and brought you up' line to keep you here, can't you see that?

Luke: Biggs! My aunt and uncle the only family I've got, they're all I've got! And I don't care what you or anybody else thinks about me, I can't let anything happen to those two.

Biggs: Luke, I didn't mean-

Luke: Oh go on, find your rebellion! You don't think I'd like to leave? You think I like staying behind?

Biggs: I never thought that, Luke.

Luke: Well, that's how it sounded.

Luke: Here, I'll let you off by the power station.

Biggs: Thanks for the ride, Luke.

Luke: Yeah. Sure.

Biggs: Luke. Luke, I had a friend at the Academy. He used to help me through, the way I-- the way I used to help you. Just before graduation, I heard he got picked up during a round of Rebel suspects, and they said he died in interrogation.

Luke: You've changed, Biggs. You've changed a lot.

Biggs: I have been doing some thinking, Luke. But, uh-- but you're the same as ever. Hey, tell me, are you still keeping a lookout for that dream girl you used to talk about?

Luke: Hah, I'll know her if she passes by. Biggs, I'm sorry about what I said back there.

Biggs: Yeah me too. Hey, just, let's forget it.

Luke: Yeah. Will you be around long?

Biggs: No, I'm leaving on the morning shuttle.

Luke: Looks like there's a wind kicking up.

Biggs: Hm. Wind's rising all over the Empire, Luke. Even Tatooine will feel it. Sooner or later.

Luke: I guess... I won't be seeing you for a while.

Biggs: Oh, maybe someday. I'll be watching for you.

Luke: Listen, next season, I'm going to be going to the Academy for sure! No, I am, I am! Take care of yourself.

Biggs: So long, Luke.

Luke: Biggs?

Biggs: Yeah?

Luke: Do you really think those ships out there were just freighters?

Biggs: Well, not if you say they were firing, hotshot.

[twilightmalachite]

Love Letter - Mirror mirror 3

Author: Umeda Chitose

Characters: Yuuta, Hinata

Translator: Mika Enstars

Proofer: Kirin

"You looked a little out of it. Do you wanna take a small break? Would you like me to get you something to drink?"

Season: Winter

Location: CosPro Office

About an hour later…

Hinata: Aaand lastly, let’s review next week’s schedule! We’ll be recording a program at two locations as radio personalities…

We have some guest appearances on variety programs, and of course, various recordings and photoshoots for magazines~. Really grateful to have all this work!

Yuuta: They also added that interview filming right after the recording of the TV special, right? About how our overall experience and thoughts are of it, and they said they’ll publish it in a TV magazine or something.

Hinata: Huh? I can’t seem to find it registered in the schedule… I’ll check later if it’s registered along with the program recording itself after this.

Yuuta: Speaking of TV specials, everything that we’ve recorded last year has been broadcasted by now, right?

Hinata: There was a program that had its broadcast date delayed, wasn’t there? It aired last weekend, so I think that was the last one?

We were on screen, and cheered out “Happy New Year!”, with excitement full of New Year’s vibes!

Yuuta: It was so weird to see us in the New Year’s spirit, while the world had already moved on from it, wasn’t it~?

Hinata: That’s nothing new to us for show biz, though. The world has already changed its attitude so it can start getting ready for Valentine’s Day.

…Of course, we have too.

Yuuta: …Uh-huh, you’re right.

Hinata: So what we’ve decided so far for 2wink’s Chocolat Fes is…

We’ll be performing at the Chocolat Fes’ at both Yumenosaki and ES.

Yuuta: And to ask Anzu-san if she could prepare the outfits for our show.

Those are the only two things that we’ve decided on… Aniki, how are you feeling about having only two?

We have a good track record of preparing live performances in a short amount of time, but don’t you sorta have a bad feeling about all of this?

Hinata: I’m not feeling too optimistic either. We’ve barely made any progress at all on our plan since autumn.

…Sure, lots happened, like the SS. But now that the new year has passed, we can’t really use the SS as an excuse anymore.

Yuuta: SS… You’re right. We were just fighting so hard, I feel like so much happened.

Hinata & Yuuta: ……

Hinata: Anyways! Now we know that Chocolat Fes will be held as usual, without any issues!

All we can do is look back at those ideas we gave each other, create new ideas out of them, and solidify ‘em!

Yuuta: (We did chat with each other here and there based on what we discussed in the garden space, but…)

(Each time it was all, “I don’t want it like this”, “I don’t want it like that”… In the end, we’ve come this far with nothing to show for.)

(Chocolat Fes itself has been moving along, but it only highlights our own utter lack of progress.)

(Even though we got an early start in early autumn, even though we were requested personally as a strong unit…)

Hinata: I’ve put down all the ideas we’ve come up with so far into a HoldHands memo, so let’s go give it a look…

Hinata: …Yuuta-kun? Are you alright?

Yuuta: Huh? What?

Hinata: You looked a little out of it. Do you wanna take a small break? Would you like me to get you something to drink?

Yuuta: No… I’m okay. I was just feeling bad, ‘cuz I haven’t thought up any new ideas or anything.

Hinata: I see. Well, I’m relieved to hear you’re not sleep deprived or anything!

Speaking of new ideas, though, I was thinking… Wouldn’t it be a waste to dismiss the ideas we’ve come up with so far?

So, I passed each idea through the relevant parties to see which of them could be considered feasible or not~!

Well, I say relevant parties, but it’s mostly just Vice Prez. ♪

Yuuta: Here you go again, doing things without me knowing…

Hinata: Sorry, sorry! By the way, it looks like we’ve secured cooperation from the Vice Prez! Which means, the luxurious set Yuuta-kun wanted is now possible!

Though, since we will be using the same set for both the school and ES’ Chocolat Fes’, I was thinking we could mix things up with the songs and direction.

And now that we have the cute and luxurious Valentine’s Day-esque stage decided, we can start laying out new ideas again—

Yuuta: Wait, hold on. What’s with the assumption over the luxurious set that I wanted? What about what you want? Shouldn’t your opinions be reflected in the set, too?

You said it would be nice to have a set that’d let you be up close and personal in the spirit of Chocolat Fes!

Hinata: I just figured it’d be fine for my idea to be reflected elsewhere.

Like, preparing the sweets for example… I’m who comes to mind in 2wink when it comes to sweets, after all! Right? ♪

Yuuta: W-what the… Didn’t you come up with that idea with our fans in mind, Aniki? Why’d you give it up?

Hinata: Rather than giving it up, I just thought, with a generous budget and cooperation from our agency, Yuuta-kun’s idea for the stage would look amazing!

Yuuta: What’s the difference between that and giving priority to my idea while withdrawing your own? There is none! You gave it up!

Hinata: Ahh, you seem on edge, Yuuta-kun…

…Maybe we shouldn’t talk about Chocolat Fes. Could we talk about something else instead?

Yuuta: Something else? Like what?

Hinata: Things that can’t be conveyed without words… And such. Just because we’re twins doesn’t mean we can actually use telepathy.

Yuuta: …Now is the time to be talking about Chocolat Fes though. I don’t want to talk about something else, I want to hear your opinion.

Hinata: I did tell you my opinion, though! That we should start with the luxurious set you wanted, and figure out something only we can do!

Yuuta: I told you, that’s not what I mean…! Besides, then it would feel like you don’t actually want to do it, Aniki!

What is it that’s holding you back from saying what you really want to say? Is it because I’m on edge?

Hinata: Why is it that I can’t get across what I want to do? That’s what I’m thinking! How come I can’t give priority to your idea, Yuuta-kun?

Yuuta: The fact you even thought of it as giving priority is proof that you gave it up…!

Now the atmosphere is like this, and you won’t just say what you really want to say. Don’t even try to say that this is my fault, “Hinata-kun”.

Hinata: …… ……

Yuuta: You understand why I’m angry, right…?

Hinata & Yuuta: ……

Yuuta: …Sorry, I need to cool off a little.

Hinata: …Gotcha. I’ll be in touch, then.

← prev | story directory | next →

[astaldis]

No. 7 Radio Silence

@whumptober-archive

Fandom: The Witcher TV (Season 3)

Whumpee: Cahir

Words: 29,782 Chapters: 11/11

Chapter 11 of Friends:

Then Cahir is alone. Well, not really alone. There are more than a score elves in the camp now with new arrivals joining every day. Soon, they will form commandos and start attacking convoys again. Although he has become an expert at raiding caravans over the last couple of months, with his bad hand and shoulder he will not be able to help them, at least not yet. Fringilla would be furious if he tried. However, staying idle and living at the Scoia'taels' expense without contributing is not how Cahir wishes to spend the next two or three weeks. He would soon die of sheer boredom. Luckily, there are a few things he is good at besides fighting. Fishing for one. He knows how to knock up a fishing rod from virtually nothing to catch trout and crayfish with it, even the occasional pike. It is perhaps the single one activity he enjoys despite it requiring a considerable amount of patience. While living in the woods after Emhyr had kicked him out of the palace, going fishing was - aside from hunting - what he spent most of his time with whenever there was no convoy to attack. And then, there were the mushrooms. He has become quite good at telling the edible from the poisonous ones, another useful survival skill in a forest. Fringilla cannot be opposed to him venturing out into the woods to collect fungi, can she? Like fishing, it is neither particularly strenuous nor dangerous. He can still take it easy as ordered, and it will keep him busy. And out of the elves' hair. They might prefer having the camp to themselves most of the time and not share it with a hated Dh'oine.

So, Cahir spends most of his time by the river or searching for summer oyster mushrooms, different kinds of early boletes and other fungi when he is not resting or sleeping. The days pass. The weather is unusually warm and dry for the north. Nothing much happens. It is not the worst way of life. Actually, it could be quite enjoyable if he did not miss Fringilla so much. Especially when he is having his usual nightmares, but not only then. The hut feels awfully empty without her. It would be nice to have somebody to talk to once in a while, too. Cahir is not the chatty type and used to being on his own. Still, having a friend to share his thoughts with, even his fears and sorrows, felt good. Now this friend is hundreds of kilometres away on a dangerous quest while the elves - understandably - want as little to do with him as possible. Besides the occasional furtive glance, a curt nod and a grunt when he brings his catch of the day, it is as if he did not exist. A mere ghost tolerated at their table, nothing more. They are not openly hostile, though, and he manages. Slowly, he is getting better, too. Physical activities are a lot less exhausting and, after some days, Cahir can move his injured shoulder without it causing him much pain. The cut on his left palm has left an ugly scar, but it seems his middle finger is gaining back both its sensitivity and motility. The other two fingers not so much. Well, three functional fingers are always better than two, even though it will not be enough to shoot a bow, not if he wants the arrow to hit the mark. If he had a sword, Cahir would start to exercise a bit, however, he does not. His blade is, most probably, rusting away in the grass on the cliffs of Thanedd Island. He cannot ask the Scoia'tael for a sword, either, they hardly have sufficient weapons for themselves. They would not want to waste one on him.

More than two weeks go by like this and Cahir grows increasingly restless. There has not been any news from Nilfgaard. Fringilla promised to come back for him or at least contact him somehow, and Francesca would not leave the Scoia'tael in the dark about what is going on either, would she? Mages always find a way to communicate if they wish to do so. Even if his friend cannot portal all the way across the continent just to ask how he is doing, he should have heard from her by now. Is he perhaps too impatient again? But what if Fringilla's plan was thwarted, if they were found out? What if Emhyr had the two sorceresses arrested? Or, even worse, executed? The thought that something might have happened to Fringilla is too horrible. She cannot, must not be dead. Is it possible that she has forgotten about him again? No, Fringilla would not do that, would she? But why is there no message, no anything? The uncertainty is hard to bear, and with every passing day it is growing harder.

Read the complete story on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49262185

[rafescoke]

Crime ; Rafe Cameron (Part 2)

masterlist

Read the previous part: Part #1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader would do anything for the boy she loves from a summer ago.

Warnings: Story takes place at the start of season 2 (and some flashbacks from season 1), swearing, angst, death penalty, gaslighting, reader just needing help

“Get the fuck away,” she said against the pattering of the rain, still walking tiredly. She tried to blink to clear off her eyesight, but the rain was getting heavier. She hated the fact that her only choice was to get into the car, or else she would probably be sick until the end of the summer.

The car stopped, and whoever in that car sighed. “I don’t have time, and I won’t leave you alone. Get in.”

“Fuck off,” she said again, feeling her tank top sticking to her body. She felt extremely cold now, not wearing proper clothes or bringing some type of an umbrella.

“Get in,” he sighed again, and when the lightning struck a tree not far from where she was standing, she realised she really didn’t have a choice.

She placed herself into the Range Rover, wetting the seat and the carpet, and she could hear the faint music coming from the radio. She didn’t dare glance at the boy beside him, and he didn’t waste anymore time before hitting the breaks and speeding down the road.

“So you’re stalking me now?”

Rafe laughed, “I won’t call it stalking. Perhaps protecting.”

(Y/N) scoffed, watching the car freshener swaying from the rearview mirror. It was the freshener from before, and (Y/N) wondered if he ever changed It.

“What are you doing at the Chateau?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled, slightly shivering from the rain before. “Why? Are you mad?”

He stayed shut, his eyes focusing on the road, and (Y/N) crossed her arms again.

“I saw you kissed him.”

“Of course,” she laughed shrilly, not looking at him. “What else did you see? Did you stalk me in New York too?”

He shrugged, “Should’ve.”

“Fucking psycho,” she muttered under her breath. “Now what? You’re going to kill me like you murdered that sheriff?”

She watched as Rafe’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, his eyes staring straight at the road. For a second she was afraid of him, but knew he would never hurt her, not when he loved her a bit too much.

“I fucking hate you,” she spat, crossing her arms. “And I wish I’ve never met you.”

“Say that again, and I’ll fucking kill you,” he breathed, and (Y/N) gritted her teeth. She watched him from the corners of her eyes, his fingers still etched onto the steering wheel, his face contorted in anger.

“You should be in jail,” she said again, and she didn’t know why she wouldn’t just shut up. She guessed she was probably tired of being treated like shit, and she wanted to put an end to it.

Rafe accelerated the car, driving straight back to Figure 8, and all those time they didn’t speak, just sitting in the silence as (Y/N) cried, thinking of what she had gotten herself into.

She was covering up for a crime.

If this news ever goes out she would never get a place in college, and all of her future dreams would be ruined.

She jolted out of her thoughts when the car stopped abruptly, and she looked at the view outside. The bold font of ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Station’ greeted her, and she turned to look at Rafe quickly.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” She grunted, her heart beating wildly.

“Go. You’re done covering up for me? Go. Go and fucking tell them that Rafe Cameron murdered Sheriff Peterkin!” He expressed, his eyes flaring up in anger. “Isn’t that what you fucking want?”

(Y/N) stayed silent, her eyes glassy. The boy in front of her was breathing heavily, and she noticed how different he was from before.

His face had become smaller, and his cheekbones were more apparent. He didn’t slick his hair back anymore and just let them messily part, and his glowing blue eyes were now dark.

She held him in her hands, placing her forehead against his. “I don’t mean it like that, Rafe.”

Rafe closed his eyes, breathing into her scent that he had missed so much, and his hands instantly went up to her hair. He bit his lips, feeling her now, and wished he would never have to part from her again.

“They’re having a hearing for John B,” Rafe said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And they’re calling you for the hearing too.”

She sucked in a breath, knowing this was bound to happen, “Rafe, I-”

“I’m not forcing you to cover up for me,” he whispered, “I get it if you won’t do it anymore. You hate me, and it’s okay. I would do the same.”

The tears were streaming down her face now, and she couldn’t bring herself to wipe them away. She held him close, still caressing his face, and bit her lips to stop a whimper.

“My dad’s going to ask you to cover up for me, and it’s okay if you won’t do it on the day of the hearing,” he continued, and she watched a tear roll down his face. He quickly wiped them away, pulling himself away and sighing before the steering wheel. “I just want you to know that I love you.”

“Rafe,” she sighed. This was exactly the problem; seeing him so weak under her, and she wanted nothing but to stay with him forever.

She held him close as he sobbed onto her lap, running her fingers through his hair.

Would she do it? Would she actually do this?

“I’ll do it,” she said, and Rafe quickly looked up to her, shaking his head. “I’ll do it,” she repeated, her eyes certain.

“You don’t have to,” he said, cupping her face. “Oh, baby, thank you, I love you so much. I love you so much.”

The news about (Y/N) having to stand for the hearing wasn’t accepted well by her parents, and Mr (Y/L/N) argued until the night sky settled in with Ward about how this will affect her college applications, to which Ward promised he would do everything in his will to help her get into the best college in the states.

The hearing was set not until next week, but (Y/N) could already feel the pressure building up in her stomach. It was between justice and Rafe now, and she didn’t know what to choose.

Rafe had been there with her throughout the whole week, just staying in bed with her, hugging her close and never letting go. It was just like their usual Sunday mornings last year, but this wasn’t as peaceful as that.

“I love you,” he said, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead. (Y/N) shifted, so that she was facing the other way, and she wished she didn’t have to have such a hard time thinking about what she would be saying during the hearing.

All her life, she was told to always tell the truth, especially when there’s somebody falsely accused. But she loved Rafe too much, and she wouldn’t let him go even for a second again.

It was the night before the hearing that Rafe had to leave and see her tomorrow when Mrs (Y/L/N) entered her room, placing herself beside the lump under the blanket.

“Hey, mom,” she said, her voice croaky.

“Hey,” she smiled weakly, placing her hands against her cheeks. (Y/N) leaned into her touch, and wished she was still a little child. “Did Rafe do it?”

“Huh?” She sat up straight, rubbing her eyes. She laughed nervously, “Mom, what are you saying?”

“All I’m saying is,” she sighed, “It’s okay if he did it. You can tell me, (Y/N). I’m always here for you.”

She so badly wanted to tell her mother, to confess about the whole thing and cried against her arms. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to part with Rafe again, and she wouldn’t do it even for a few seconds.

“He didn’t,” she lied, laying her head against the pillow again. “It was John B.”

“Okay,” she nodded, but (Y/N) could feel that she knew all along.

“You must do the right thing, okay?” Was all she said, before she placed another soft kiss against her forehead and left her to cry her heart out until the morning sun appeared.

. . .

(Y/N) glanced at Rafe and his father behind her, and quickly looked back at the judge. She closed her eyes, feeling so shaky, and cleared her throat.

“I was with Rafe, we were just there to send, um, Ward off to the Bahamas. I was, uh, alone with him,” she started, her voice so shaky she felt as if she had just confessed the truth. She cleared her throat again, “We saw, um, Sheriff Peterkin and um, John B, Ward and Sarah.”

“Did Rafe Cameron shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

It felt like a slap across her face, and she didn’t know what to do. She glanced at John B again, in his orange suit, looking at her with pleading eyes. She looked her parents, determined that she was not guilty, and back to Rafe, who was on the edge of crying.

“(Y/N)? Did Rafe Cameron shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

(Y/N) thoughts wandered to the first time she and Rafe had sex. It happened in a party, and (Y/N) never regretted her actions on that day. That was only a few days after he had asked her to become his girlfriend, and 4 days away before the murder of the sheriff took place.

“You’re drunk,” she laughed, pushing him onto the sofa before climbing on top of him. This was usual between the two of them, always teasing each other but never really acting on it. But (Y/N) felt different that day, and she wanted the whole him.

“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow from under her, his fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. He turned her over so she was now under him, and she giggled ferociously, closing her eyes. His fingers trailed down to her cheeks, and he bit his lips as she let out a whimper.

He leaned closer, his lips nibbling on her earlobe. She groaned, tugging on his head, “What should we do then?”

“(Y/N), did Rafe shoot Sheriff Peterkin?”

(Y/N) looked up to the judge, her eyes glassy and her lips trembling. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and voiced out her own version of truth.

“It was John B who shot Sheriff Peterkin.”

The whole crowd went wild, Kie was screaming from the back, and she could hear Ward exclaiming happily, satisfied. She bit her lips, knowing she just committed a crime, and looked at John B.

Rafe went to put his arms around her, whispering an ‘are you okay?’ to which she nodded at, but she was far from okay; she felt like screaming her heart out.

Rafe placed another kiss against the back of her head before reclaiming his seat beside Ward, his body relaxing.

“John Booker Routledge, pursuant to the North Carolina statute section 14, you are charged with murder in the first degree with aggravated circumstances. The maximum sentence would be the death penalty.”

The crowd broke out into chaos again, and (Y/N) had never felt weaker than before. Rafe quickly pulled her up, whispering comforting words into her ear, all while Kie and the other pogues tried to surround her.

“(Y/N), it’s not too late-” JJ tried to reach her, “(Y/N), please. Don’t fucking do this to me! You know the truth!”

“Fucking move,” Rafe muttered, still wrapping his arms around (Y/N) and walking towards the exit. She felt lifeless under his touch, so weak she could feel herself fainting.

She just sent someone to a death penalty.

“Murderer!” Kie yelled, just before Rafe could put her into the car, caressing her hair and letting her drop onto his lap, trembling intensely.

“You’re fine,” he whispered, soothing her hair as the car drove away, and the screams behind her slowly disappeared. “You’re fine.”

He kissed her on her forehead, “Thank you, baby. I love you. I love you so much.”

Her head had never felt more painful, and she could hear a ringing tone thrumming against her eardrums. She tugged on Rafe’s wrist, pulling him close. All in all, she was glad to be back into his arms.

[oonajaeadira]

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

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MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

[dalekofchaos]

Things I would change about Telltale’s The Walking Dead

As much as I love TWDG, there would be things I would change if I could

Season 1

Nothing as the season is perfect

Season 2

Christa lives. Christa is separated from Clem after the attack by the scavengers.

Sam does not turn feral and attack Clem. Sam gets to travel with Clem throughout the series. He is the protector of Clem and later AJ

We do not witness the most incompetent Doctor in the world. Seriously, what kind of a doctor CANNOT tell the difference between a human and dog bite? A walker bite is still a human bite.

Clem and Sam runs into Luke and Pete, no hostility, they save them from walkers. So it's more friendly.

Everyone is wary around Clem but knowing that she's looking for her friend, they decide to let her stay and search for Christa. The plot of episode 1 is finding Christa

Eventually they do find Christa, but Christa is badly injured, she is badly injured. But the problem is they cannot give away medical supplies so easily, so they put both Clem and Christa in the shed. Christa trusts Clem and asks her to find the medical supplies to help her. "it'll be just like how I taught you"

After saving Christa, eventually Clem would kill the walker in the shed.

The rest of episode 1 plays out as the same.

Episode 2 would be different. If we choose to go with Nick, mostly the same. But if we go with Pete, there is a chance for him to live. I really feel like it was wasted potential for Pete to die so quick. So change the setting of the beginning of the episode. Let’s say it’s an area where there’s heat. So Pete would chop off his leg and cauterize the wound. So Pete would be in the group at least until episode 3.

We get to see the reunion of Clem, Christa and Kenny

We would see a bond/friendship between Rebecca and Christa

Kenny asks Christa "what happened to the baby? I noticed you were pregnant the last time we saw each other" Christa will confirm that she had a miscarriage 

Episode 3 play out the same. But with Pete alive, they would build Pete a wooden leg as they want him to be useful. Sadly Pete would die by Carver’s hands. During the scene of Kenny giving the radio back to Carver, after Clem tries to stop, Troy of course hits Clem. Pete has had enough of Troy putting his hands on Clem, so Pete knocks him off his ass and before Carver can do anything, Pete kills Troy and that’s enough reason for Carver to kill Pete. Pete dies trying to save Nick and Clem. He deserved more than to die in the beginning without knowing that either of them would be safe.

The only difference between episode 4 is Nick and Sarah would not be pointlessly wasted. With Nick, Nick rushes over to the meet up spot and goes to look for Clem. So Clem, Nick and Jane would go and save Luke and Sarah. After returning, Nick would be there for Rebecca as best he could.  Nick arguing and putting Luke in his place after he sleeps with Jane, giving the guy a serious reality check. Trying to be there for Rebecca after she gives birth, noticing how ill and emotionally drained she is, and mourning her after her death. Trying to be there for Rebecca after she gives birth, noticing how ill and emotionally drained she is, and mourning her after her death. Gets sentimental with Luke and Clementine about the good ol’ days with the cabin group during Luke’s Birthday. Nick would be there in the end(more on that later) With Sarah. Clem would inspire her to live for Carlos and for the group. She would be a survivor and be developed throughout the rest of the season, and both Clem and Sarah would take care of each other. It would be revealed that Carlos taught her some medical knowledge. And all the books she read. Despite learning of the horrors of the world, Sarah remains kind, enthusiastic and non-aggressive, well still being able to fight for herself. Proving that good people don’t need to change to survive the apocalypse.

There is no Arvo and no Russians. Instead it’s Eddie who Clem and Jane meet and Eddie leads Tavia, Vince, Wyatt, Russell, Becca, and Shel. I think something that would’ve improved the end of season 2 was replace Arvo and the Russians with Tavia and the 400 Days characters. It makes perfect sense. They destroyed their home and killed their leader and these characters deserved more than cameos. And originally Eddie from 400 days WAS MEANT to take Arvo’s role in episode 4 originally, so replace Arvo with Eddie. So when Tavia and her people corner Clem and the others, Bonnie is trying to make peace with them since they were her friends. But after Rebecca is turned and when either Clem or Kenny shoot her. Bonnie is the first casualty. 

I’d like to think the rest of episode 5 is about the group being hunted by Tavia’s people and trying to save AJ, however Tavia wants the baby as Carver convinced her that the baby is his. Ultimately it ends with Mike, Jane, Vince, Becca, Shel, Wyatt, Eddie, and Russell dead and only Clem, Kenny, AJ, Luke, Nick, Sarah and Tavia left alive. The final choice is about who you save from Tavia. Kenny or Luke? I think something like this would’ve been better than that loathsome little shitbird and the Kenny vs Jane drama.

The endings would be Clem, Nick, Sarah and AJ in Wellington. Clem, AJ, Nick, Sarah and Kenny together. Luke, Nick, Clem, Sarah and AJ returning to the cabin. Or Clem, Nick, Sarah and AJ surviving together.

The New Frontier

Big change is Gabe and Mariana would be separate. Also they would be twins. I was inspired by this fanfic I found. Javi, Kate and Gabe would separate, while David and Mariana would be together. Eventually it’s revealed that Ava has helped keep David and Mari alive. It’s revealed that before she was kicked out of Richmond, Clem and Mari were close friends. Only Kate would be shot. But there would be one big Garcia reunion. Kate is put at ease when she sees Gabe and Mari together.

Continuing on Clem's story for the flashbacks. We would see that no matter what choice you made, Sarah and Nick would survive and return. I can see Sarah showing off her medic skills to save lives and impressing Lingard and becomes an asset while in their stay to The New Frontier. As for Nick, due to losing Luke his drive would be to keeping Clem and AJ safe, so eventually he would be a loyal asset to David. The New Frontier would refuse to let either of them go with Clem. Nick grew to be a skilled fighter and David would not let him go. Sarah’s medical skills are very much needed. Both of them feel like they are needed and they say goodbye to Clem.

The only change to the main story is after either killing or sparring Joan, we would keep in the cut content of what happens to whomever lived. If Joan is to survive in "Thicker Than Water", she would appear, and the player would decide her fate: Execute her, exile her from Richmond, or let her stay. If Clint survived the previous episode, he would come to suggest about keeping the stolen supplies from the raided communities. If he is dead, Eleanor will suggest about not keeping them instead.

Keep in the deleted sequence of  Clementine’s flashback to the day everything started, apparently we were going to see how her babysitter Sandra became a Walker

Regarding who Clem gets to romance. It would be between Gabe and Mari. As Javi we would notice that Gabe and later Mari are both crushing on Clem and you can direct a romance with Clem and either sibling. You can convince one to remain friends, while telling the other to pursue those feelings. And when we are in the truck, that specific sibling will make their move and Clem will either share a kiss with Gabe or Mari(this is why I Gabe and Mari twins)

Nick would hep Javi and Gabe out during the looking for weapons bit. It would be revealed that Joan had him killed during the public spectacle later

Clem would get to say goodbye to Sarah. She forgives her for staying with The New Frontier and understands that she is needed. Sarah  wishes Clem luck in finding AJ and tells her to keep him safe

The Final Season

First of all. Clem would tell AJ about not just Lee, but also Kenny, Luke, Alvin and Rebecca. AJ would know about everyone who kept him safe. Clem would even tell AJ about Javi, Kate, Gabe, Mari and David.

AJ would be wearing Kenny’s hat.

If we choose to pursue Louis in every choice we get, Louis basically gets a confidence boost and learns to leave the jokes behind and takes up a leadership role alongside Violet. 

Pursuing Violet remains the same, but she stays loyal to Clem even if we choose to save Louis(more on that later)

In episode 1 when they are playing war, when Louis asked if Clem had a boyfriend, Clem will reveal she either had a boyfriend or girlfriend in Gabe or Mari. 

One of the choices for Clem to ask during War is Clem gets to ask what happened with that burned building. That will also answer how Tenn got his scar. I guess during the outbreak something happened that caused the fire and Tenn was left inside. The twins saved him.

Instead of having “a bad experiences with dogs” Clem will say she used to have a dog, “his name was Sam, he protected me and AJ, he was a good boy”

In episode 2 when Lilly and the Raiders attack. Lilly will yell “Minnie and Sophie wanted to come”

Sophie will be alive. After Clem subdues Minnie, Sophie will aim her gun and warn Clem. After the revelation that it’s Minnie and Sophie, Clem lets Minnie go. Sophie is heartbroken to hear about Brody. “I loved her and that fucking bastard killed her” after the revelation that Marlon killed Brody and Lilly killed Mitch, Sophie will start questioning if what they are doing is right anymore

Sophie will look something like this it is from TFS concept art for Minnie, but boy would this work for Sophie

Clem would seek help from old friends in Wellington. So Javi, Kate, Gabe, and Mari would return to help Clem, AJ and either Violet/Louis to save their friends. Depending on who we had Clem romanced in TNF, you can either stay with either partner or break up with them,  either partner will accept that Clem moved on and are glad they are happy and focus on getting Clem’s friends back. Gabe and Mari are friends with either Louis/Violet. But if you choose to stay with either Gabe or Mari, Gabe/Mari will move into the school and stay with Clem and AJ

We would also find out why Marlon and Brody got sent to the school. Marlon. Brody was sent to the school because she liked to joyride. Marlon, it could be shoplifting, but something tells me he liked to hurt small animals before he got sent to Ericson’s

Since Violet ALWAYS had Clem’s back and stood behind her, Violet would not give in as I just could never see it. Instead of Violet immediately complying to Lilly, Violet fights back and never gives in. This results in Violet losing an eye. She never gave up hope in Clem like Louis. It would look something Something like this. Art by spacedlexi

When Lilly tells the story of glorifying her abusive racist father, Clem will get the opportunity to say “I’m glad Lee let Kenny kill Larry, he was an asshole to Lee from the start and he wanted to throw Duck to the walkers” This strikes a nerve with Lilly. “God, this is what it’s about isn’t it? You are still not over it are you? All this hard bitch is just for show isn't it? After all this time, you are still the same scared little girl crying for daddy's help. Well get the fuck over it, Lee had enough of your bullshit and I have too. Go to hell Lily, tell Larry I said fuck you!" This would result in Lilly hitting Clem

Clem does not lose her hat

Depending on who we romanced either Violet/Louis will return as usual, but with Sophie. She will apologize to Clem for ever siding and beveling in Lilly. Clem will say that doesn't matter anymore, the important thing is she made the right choice and that she can see Tenn. 

When Sophie sees Tenn, Sophie embraces Tenn in a hug. When he asks her about Minnie, Sophie says she is far too gone to ever return. And ultimately, Sophie saves Clem from Minnie and with Sophie being alive, Tenn instead will put Minnie out of her misery. Sophie and Tenn return home as a family.

We get to see AJ teaching Tenn and both of them hugging in the end.

Depending on how we left things off with James, James will either be nowhere to be seen or James will be at the school. 

Richmond’s people helped rebuild the school

Clem, AJ, Violet, Louis, Tenn, James, Sophie, Aasim, Omar, Ruby, and Willy are the survivors of the school.

If you romanced Violet and Louis still has his tongue, it’s hinted that Louis is pursuing James, Louis holds his hand and James smiles.

In the end of the last episode, we get one final kiss between Clem and Violet or Clem and Louis.

Ends the same way with Clem looking at peace.

[ithehellisbucky]

forget me not

spencer reid x reader

Request: No

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, drowning, murder, drug mention, etc

Summary: You and Spencer don't realize you love each other until it's almost too late

Author's Note: First thing in like fucking forever, so yeah. This was originally a request and then I was at school and I couldn't look at my request so it was way off script, so I just did my own shit, this also takes place in the 5th season, in the middle just after hayley dies.

~

"The unsub is a white male between the ages of 35-45. His modus operandi is drowning in the great lakes, he's already struck Superior, Michigan, Ontario, and Huron, so we expect Lake Erie to be next." Hotch says, glancing at his phone every minute or so. It's his third case back since Hayley died, and he's picked up a habit of waiting to hear bad news.

"This unsub has recently developed a hallucinative disorder where every face he sees has an emotional connection. There were no discernable connections between his victims which leads us to believe that his mind is filling in the gaps at random." Reid says, gesturing abstractly at nothing at all in particular.

"This disorder was likely triggered by a recent brain injury connected to the Great Lakes so keep a lookout for any recent accident victims. He was very social until the accident, and after it he immediately became anti-social. He was probably in a relationship recently, but then broke it off, he is not married, but possibly has children, which he will not shy away from using in a hostage situation." Morgan exclaims as he leans against a desk.

"His victims are all over the place, so we advise everyone to be on high alert. There is no pattern to the murders, from a 51-year-old single mother of two to a 14-year-old on vacation." You pause and take a breath, looking back down at your notes. "Someone out there knows this man, so we implore you to tell as many people as possible, our Media Liaison Jennifer Jareau will be setting up a press conference, and it is very important to get this out to as many people as possible."

"Won't that just spook him more?" One of the sheriff's deputy says, with a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, but at this point, he will kill again no matter what, it's better to have the public be informed because he will take another victim, whether we find him during or after is up to us."

He nods, and looks down at his notepad, badly masking his disturbed grimace.

"Thank you and let us know if you have any leads," Hotch exclaims, closing the meeting.

You walk up to Spencer "I bet we're their favorite people right about now." You say, sipping on your coffee.

Reid avoids your eyes and continues to fidget with the chess piece that he probably stole from one of the officer's desks. "What's wrong Reid?"

"I dunno, I just have a really bad feeling about this one," He picks up his cane and walks away. When Spencer has enough he needs to walk away, and as long as he wasn't hurt that was fine with you.

"Reid, y/l/n, Garcia's got something." Morgan raps his knuckles on the doorway and calls you into a conference room. "Hey babygirl, what do ya got for us?" He exclaims, shifting the call to speakerphone.

"A luscious blonde mane and an intense yearning to hold you." Emily giggles a little bit and Garcia can probably feel Hotch's glare "oh come on Derek."

"Sorry baby, keep goin'."

"I have a name. One Larry Todd. 3 weeks ago he was in a boat accident in which he had a severe concussion and was unconscious for 3 days. He immediately broke up with his girlfriend Shelby, which she was very angry about, adieu to her Facebook page. His ex-wife reported that he missed his last two visitations with his daughter Amelia." She takes a pause "he owned a bait shop that's been closed since his boat was destroyed in the accident, and it's listed as his last residency.

"Fits our profile to a tee," Emily exclaims.

"Thanks, Garcia," Hotch says, hanging up the phone call. "Emily, JJ is in the conference so run out and let her know. Morgan and Rossi, go to the bait shop with SWAT, and Reid and y/l/n go to the ex-wife's house; Emily and I will stay here and see what else we can dig up."

Everyone goes their separate ways. The sheriff takes the driver's seat, with you in the shotgun seat and Spencer in the back. You can hear the clang his leg makes against his cane and his foot bouncing.

"I'll take the daughter, and you can have the ex-wife."

"Okay," responds Spencer.

The ex-wife Miranda opens the door sobbing when you knock on it. "Excuse me, ma'am, my name is Agent y/n y/l/n and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid, do you mind if we ask you and your daughter a few questions about your ex-husband?"

She continues to sob but lets you in. You look back to see the sheriff playing video games on his phone and you scoff.

Spencer sits down with the crying woman and you politely ask if you can speak to her daughter. She tells you yes and that Amelia is around back.

"Bye, Reid." You blow a kiss to Spencer and walk out the door, shaking a sinister nagging feeling itching at the back of your neck.

You walk across the pavement and open the gate to enter your unsub's former backyard. "Hi Amelia, my name is y/n, I'm a friend of your mommies."

Beginning to grow more suspicious, you pull out your gun and triple-check to make sure it's on safety. If Todd is there you know that he would be fine with sacrificing his daughter for his own goals and you wouldn't let that happen "Amelia? Is your daddy here."

"Boo!" A little girl with pigtails holding a stuffed rabbit jumps from behind the recycling bin and you chuckle, putting your gun away in your holster. "Did I scare you?"

"You sure did!" You laugh. "Wow, that's such a pretty bunny, where did you get it?"

"My daddy got it for me." She said, showing off her gap tooth.

"That's so cool! Do you remember what it was like when he gave it to you?" You kneel to be at eye level with the child.

"Yeah, he was super cuddly, now he's a little more pokey, but that's okay." She says, playing with the bunny ears.

"When did he get pokey, Amelia?" You hesitated, something was off "I just want your daddy to be cuddly again."

"A little bit ago. He used to tell me stories till I fell asleep eeeeeverynight, but then he stopped for a week and when he came back he was like a big lion."

You had a growing sense of paranoia budding in your spine, why was she telling you all this so fast? "What type of stories?"

"He used to tell me princess stories, but after he stopped for a week he talked all about ones about the scary lady who tried to take me away, but then he stopped her! And the boy who was being dangerous so he had to make sure that she didn't hurt me." She exclaimed absentmindedly.

You start to pull your phone out of your pocket until Amelia starts talking again "and just now, he was talking about the bad knight who tried to take me away."

Your jaw dropped and you tried to find the best course of action, but by the time your brain started working it was too late. He walked up behind you and whispered into your ear "Nighty-night."

And then everything was black

~~~

"Hey, mommy."

"Yes, sweetheart?" She quickly wiped the tears off of her face to turn to her daughter.

"Can I have ice cream?"

"Of course sweetheart" she gives me a small smile and gets up towards the kitchen. "Where's that nice agent that came here with Dr. Reid?"

"They weren't a nice agent, they were a bad, bad, bad knight, and they were trying to take me away, so daddy took them instead."

No.

Oh no.

No no no no no no no no.

Where were they? Where was y/n?

I pulled out my gun without a second thought and left my cane behind, I ran as fast as I could without it, and by the time I was in the backyard my knee was burning and they were gone.

~~~

You woke up halfway through the drive. The road switched from smooth the bumpy a million times over, and it smelled like bees. Not like honey, not like pollen, like bees. Just bees. It smelled nice, but you don't want to die smelling bees.

You wanted to move. Move your body, move your head, move your eyes, move anything, but you couldn't move. Nothing could move. There was a sweaty tv shirt shoved between your teeth. Your hands were bound with bristled rope and there was metal all around you and you were certain that this was the back of a van. At first, you thought there must be a blindfold over your eyes, and then you realized that they were just too tired to open.

There was an old country song playing over the radio, a love song about a family in a house. The truck stopped shaking and he pulled the ignition. A growing sense of dread filled your stomach as he walked around towards the back of the truck. He opened the door and you saw his face.

That could only mean one thing- you weren't leaving here alive.

~~~

Within minutes crime scene techs were on the scene, but I knew they wouldn't find anything useful. The only thing that was there was the absence of y/n and our distraught profile.

"They were right here, right here, they were- they were right here, right here." Hotch looked at me somberly, and Morgan rubbed my shoulder with sympathy.

"We need to update our profile," Emily said, there was no time to waste, "we know what this guy does to people, and if he would risk abducting an armed federal agent in front of his daughter there's no doubt they in danger."

"We know Emily," Everyone looks at me kind of funny like I've said something wrong, but at this point, I don't care what anyone thinks of me, "His reason for doing this was for his daughter, he took out anyone he saw as a threat, a motherly figure, someone who could be her older brother, anyone who was a threat and wanted to take Amelia away from him.

"His disorder is fairly undocumented, being exactly the opposite of prosopagnosia, where patients disassociate faces from their loved ones, causes him to feel emotions about people he's never seen before, and his subconscious is assigning meaning to them at random, picking up anyone shows the slightest twinge of distaste.

"y/n picked up more than a twinge, they were there to take his daughter away, so he likely believes they're the mastermind." Everyone looks at me and waits for me to say the thing we all know is coming "he's not going to kill them before they suffer."

As we hitched a ride back to the station my leg was bouncing like crazy and my fingers were tapping the numbers of pi into the leather of the car door. Emily put her hand on my shoulder but I couldn't feel her, y/n missing was the only thing I could feel.

"Garcia I need you to check if Larry Todd owns any vehicles large enough to hold a person, trunks, vans, trucks anything," Morgan says into his speakerphone once we get back to the station.

"Oh god it's true, he really has them?" I can hear the distraught coated thick on her voice "do you think they're in pain, do you think he-"

"Garcia we don't have time for this, does he or does he not have any vehicles in his name." I snapped, I could apologize later when y/n was in a hospital bed.

"No, but you know I'm never one to go to bed early, and it turns out his great uncle died a year and a half ago, but his van was pulled over and given a speeding ticket a few months ago, how much do you wanna bet that's our guy and not a psychopath's uncle."

"Thanks, Garcia," Rossi hangs up the phone and turns to one of the sheriff's deputies in the room, "put out an ATB on that van."

"Okay, I'm gonna go through the medical files again, see if there's anything I missed," Hotch catches my arm.

"There isn't, right now all we can do is wait and look." He pauses "we've sent out patrol cars to look for the van, go out with Morgan, and circle around Lake Erie."

"Hotch, what if- what if we don't find them, or we find them and it's too late, or we find-"

"Right now she's alive, you said it yourself, he's not gonna let her die so easy."

As disturbing as it is hearing that someone you love more than anything is being tortured, I found it strangely comforting. They're alive. They are alive. They are prepared. After Tobias took me they brought me to a CIA torture seminar, just on the off chance that anything happened, I wouldn't break again.

I stared out the window of the passenger side of the SUV. Morgan wasn't talking, he knew what I was feeling, because he felt it before, when it happened to me.

"We've got a report of the vehicle going down sunmist lane" the scanner jumps to life.

I had memorized the map the second we landed; "we're five minutes away" and then, quietly under my breath, I whispered, "I'm coming y/n."

~~~

He held your head underwater for the 7th or the fiftieth time. You can't remember. You can't remember. You can't remember anything other than the water under the dock filling my lungs.

"What do you want with my daughter?!" He screamed at you as he pulled you out again, You vomited up all the water that my body could muster. You didn't know he had a daughter.

You forgot everything you learned to do. You forgot to pretend it was affecting me, You forgot how to hold my breath, You forgot. You forgot everything.

Except for Spencer, Spencer's smile, Spencer holding you, Spencer missing you until that was gone too.

Everything went away but the water.

He kicked you back off the dock again, and for a second you gasped for air, and then you sank, nothing even mattered anyways.

The man pulled you out again and kicked you in the ribs; you felt something rip inside of you and you screamed as loud as you could, which was more like a whimper.

"Larry Todd put your hands up!" Two men came behind the man who drowned you, you couldn't remember them, but you could remember the rip in your ribs filling with water.

He shoved you back into the water and you didn't even try to fight this time, you just sank, feet after feet after feet of water. You didn't hold your breath, you didn't care.

A figure appeared above you, and you saw the angel. He had a shimmering brown halo and a beautiful bright face that looked terrified, just like an angel.

And then he pulled you up.

~~~

This might be heaven, but it might be hell. You can tell the room is white without opening your eyes. There's a steady beeping sound to your left and it smells like chlorine.

When you finally manage to open your eyes you wished you hadn't. All you see is lethargy around you.

JJ is drooling in her sleep while Emily is asleep on her shoulder, Garcia is snoring in the corner with her knitting in a pile next to her. Morgan and Rossi are nowhere to be seen, but you can't blame them, seeing people they love getting beat up over and over again never gets easier. You can hear the faint sounds of Hotch arguing with someone over the phone in the hallway.

But worst of all is Spencer. He's wide awake and his foot is tapping like crazy on the ground. There are deep and dark eye bags surrounding his eyes and hints at a beard forming on his face. His cane is tossed uncharacteristically on the ground, and he pays it no attention whatever.

You open your mouth to speak, but when you do a stabbing pain shoots through your diaphragm and you gasp. The second Spencer hears you he shoots up and kneels next to the bed, which must be no easy feat.

"Hey, how are you?" He strokes your hair as gently as he can.

You try to speak but no words come out.

"Do you want some water?" You nod, trying to not feel pathetic. The second the glass of water comes into your eye line you knock it out of his hand and it goes shattering onto the floor, waking everyone else in the room up.

You start to cry, feeling guilty and scared about why a glass of water could've terrified you so much. "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's just a bunch of sand made into something you can drink out of, it's not a big deal, don't worry." That calms you down a little bit.

You look around to see the rest of the team cradled around you. "How are you feeling honey?" Garcia whispers as if speaking too loudly would mortally wound you.

You reach up and touch your throat, and it burns. There's more confusion, and then JJ is getting her hand cut on the glass she was cleaning, Garcia was whispering too loudly and Emily was touching your arm, and Hotch and Morgan and Rossi were walking in the room and Spencer was pushing a button on your bed and the monitor was beeping and then you were screaming.

Screaming so loudly, screaming in pain, screaming in fear, screaming in confusion, screaming because you were overwhelmed and sad and scared. "Everyone gets out," Spencer says, and everyone quickly does, he knows you best, and right now, everything was too much.

"Wh-what happened" you whisper, throat and lungs still hurting but since you had screamed the worst part was over.

"The unsub kidnapped you, and tried to drown you, your heart stopped in the ambulance, but they brought you back." You remembered "You had been dunked in the water and brought back up at least 15 times, not including when I brought you out.

"You needed 53 stitches and had a punctured lung when we found you." He pauses "You're safe now, we have him in custody and he can never hurt anyone ever again." You let out a breath that you didn't know you had been holding.

"I'm so sorry," You were crying "I forgot you, I'm so sorry. He made everything go away but the water I'm sorry that I forgot you."

"It's okay, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong, you were trying to stay alive." He stroked your hair and held your hands gently "He tortured you, when Hankel tortured me all I could think about were the drugs and the pain, you didn't do anything wrong, you survived."

"I survived?"

"Yes."

"Can I tell you something?" You chuckled, your tears had stopped but it was still wet on your face.

"Anything."

"I thought you were an angel when you saved, and now I realize that you weren't my angel, it wasn't magic, and it wasn't godly." Spencer looks puzzled, and you paused to take a deep and painful breath "It was the fact that I am so deeply in love with you, that seeing you love me back felt like heaven.

Spencer stares at you, his mouth closed and his mouth on the floor "You don't have to say anything, just know that-"

His lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence. For a moment you forget about the pain in your throat, the burn in your lungs, and the agony all over your body; it was just Spencer.

You pulled away for breath, your breaths dancing with each other.

"I was so scared" he whimpered in fear.

You stroked his hair gently "I was more terrified than I had ever been. I was so horrified that I would wake up tomorrow and my reason for living would be dead. I was more scared than I had been when I thought my dad killed a kid, I was more scared than when Hankel tortured me, I was more scared when I realized that I loved drugs more than my own life.

"You were the person that held my hand when I was hurting so bad I would forget to breathe, and then you weren't here because you were the person in pain and I realized that I loved you because nothing hurt me more than the fear that I could lose the one thing in the world that made me feel okay."

He takes a deep breath and looks at you as deeply in your eyes as you thought could ever be possible. "I love you too, and I promise you I'll never let you go."

His lips meet yours, and through a kiss, you whisper "I'll never forget you again"

And you knew that you had Spencer and everything is going to be okay.

~~

My Masterlist

Requests are open!

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Marvel:

Criminal Minds:

[oh-so-scenarios]

ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅiᴘiᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜiɴɢs...♠| 14

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, vulgar language

****Theere are some errors. Please ignore! (Word Count: 8.6K)

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Y/N:

The warmth I’m feeling isn’t coming from the hot shower I just stepped out of. It was a warm feeling in my chest, along with the nervous patter of my heart. So I’m spending the night here? The rain doesn’t show any signs of stopping, and the cracking of thunder is enough to keep anyone inside.

Hoseok gave me a long sweatshirt of his along with some basketball shorts. I used the towel he provided to dry myself off and slip on the clothes he gave me. As I’m staring at myself in the partially fogged up mirror, I get a flashback to what happened in the car. 

My skin still tickled with his soft but wanting touches. I’m also shocked at my actions. I really dug my hand into his pants with no shame. I stroked his dick, and begged for him to fuck me in the back of his car. 

I shook my head, as if to shake off the embarrassment of the past events. As I removed myself from my thoughts, I recognized the sound of another running shower. Hoseok must be using his other bathroom to take a shower. I hung up the towel and grabbed my rain soaked clothes.

I stepped out of the bathroom, my hot skin being met by the cold air that circulated the hallway was refreshing, and caused me to sigh in bliss. 

I shyly looked side to side, staring at the hallway that led to more rooms, and the way that led to the living room. I took small and hesitant steps towards the other doors down the hallway, not sure what I was looking for. 

I came to a door that I thought was a closet and opened it, surprised to see a washer and dryer stacked on top of each other in the cramped space. They were clearly the newest model, and still had that new appliance gloss. The dryer already had something in it, making my stand on my tiptoes to glance in through the clear circular door. I recognized the shirt, and came to the conclusion that it was the clothes Hoseok wore on the date. 

He must have thrown them in here while I was in the shower. I opened the dryer and tossed my clothes in, my eyes reading all the dials before setting them and pressing start. 

The dryer hummed quietly while the clothes tumbled and turned inside. It was only a light vibration as well. Very different from my dryer, which was loud and echoed throughout my place. 

Hoseok is clearly a man of luxury, even with the most simple things. I closed the door and walked down the hallway to the balcony-like area. I slowly made my way down the stairs and to the living room, finding time to gawk around at the decor. It’s simple like Hoseok, yet luxurious. It’s nothing overbearing either. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem like the type to flaunt his wealth in excess. No big mansion with a bunch of unused rooms, but rather a comfortable and roomy condo. I stared into the darkness that was outside, and the other buildings in the distance. 

Seeing as the whole left wall was glass, it made the room feel a bit larger. Small threads of light from other buildings giving me a sliver of the raindrops floating down towards the ground. I watched lightning whip through the sky, the thunder that followed being a loud rumble. 

Speaking of rumble, my stomach makes a grunt sound, reminding me that we weren’t able to get dinner. With my hand pressed to my stomach, I shyly turned towards the dark walk way, strolling up the two small steps and cautiously venturing into the space.

My hands move along the wall hoping to find a light switch. My feet shuffled carefully, and I inched around, trying to keep from crashing into something.

My fingers run across something circular and hit it. Lights come shining on and I wince at the brightness, turning the circular dial to dim it. I look around to see a medium sized rectangular table with a few chairs. It seems to be a dining table, but with different sheets of paper scattered all about. There were opened binders and files carelessly thrown down. 

You’d think Hoseok would have left them in a hurry, so he didn’t have time to clean it up. 

I looked to my left to see some of the kitchen. It was barely visible, but the dining room lights gave me enough to see the switch for the kitchen. I switched the lights on and strolled in, my feet making a slapping noise on the cool tile floor. 

The kitchen matched the penthouse perfectly. All the appliances were a shining silver while the medium sized island, cabinets and all the countertops were a smooth black wood. The tile floor was an imitation of white oak wood that kept the place from seeming too dark. It was spacious and unlike the dining room, very clean. 

Everything has its place and would make anyone uncomfortable to move it. The coffee machine next to the mug rack that was next to the blender, before the gas stove interrupted the smooth countertop. 

On the other side of the stove was a rice cooker and a toaster. All the appliances showed signs of being used, but were cleaned wonderfully. 

I turned my eyes to the large two wide door fridge that had a drawer at the bottom as the freezer. I approach the fridge, staring at it. I glanced around me, as if I was doing something bad. 

Is it okay for me to open his fridge? Should I wait for him to come back before I ask if I can cook something? I reached a hand out to rest on the handle before opening one of the doors.

Hoseok’s fridge was stocked beautifully. All the water bottles lined up like the aesthetic posts I would see on Tumblr. The condiments were organized and all the foods were set in certain places. Now I really feel bad to go in there and mess it up. 

I open the other door and scan all the foods and items, deciding on some beef japchae. I started to take out the ingredients, taking the cuts of beef that were wrapped in one of the fridge compartments. I moved to the cabinets, getting more comfortable as I pulled out the needed items. 

I found all the seasonings and bowls I would need while I hummed a song I heard on the radio. 

I jump slightly when I heard a door closing, followed by footsteps coming down the stairs in a bit of a rush. I keep my eyes on the entrance way that connected the dining room with the living room. It wasn’t long before Hoseok’s figure rushes through, his cell phone pressed to his ear. 

“No, no! Move it to next week! I will not let them threaten me in such a way.” He hissed into the phone, striding to the papers spread out on the dining table. He throws a glance my way, and I notice his eyes move about the kitchen. He saw all the things I took out and looked back at me in question. 

I couldn’t answer, as the person on the phone had grabbed his attention once again. He wore a simple Tee with a colorful graphic on it, along with some black basketball shorts. I giggled at the butterflies building in my stomach. I’ve never seen Hoseok in comfortable clothes like he is now. 

I took a deep breath as my eyes stayed on him. He was looking through the different sheets of paper on the table. He was muttering something, whether to himself or the person on the phone; I can’t be sure. 

His brows furrowed as he stared down, listening to whatever was being said to him. I leaned against the counter, my arm pushing some of the items I laid out. His hair was still damp, and disheveled. Probably the results of a towel being roughly rubbed over it. 

“They aren’t going to get a better offer. I am not going to use my time off to try to prove myself for some petty investment. I won’t call them, I won’t even send out an email.” He barked, rolling his eyes. 

Whoever he was speaking to, was slowly pulling him into a bad mood. My mouth scrunched up bitterly, hoping that work wouldn’t take up all his time tonight. I turned my focus back to the food, taking out the meat preparing it. 

I was zipping around the kitchen, Hoseok’s business banter fading into the background. I put the pot on the stove and got it nice and hot for the beef. Hoseok still stood at the table, making me wonder why he didn’t take a seat. 

He probably was hoping to not waste this night with work as well. His reluctance to sit down showed his effort of finishing the call quickly. 

I glanced towards the rice cooker, now that I wanted to pair sides of rice with the glass noodle dish. I looked in his, his eyes trained down on the table while he focused intently. I took small steps in his direction, my movement catching his attention right away. 

As I got closer, he put a hand on my lower back, turning his phone away from his mouth to look at me. I leaned in a bit, the fresh smell of his soap tingling my senses.

“Can I use the rice cooker?” I whispered, trying to keep my voice down so as to not let my presence be known to those on the phone. 

He smiled and rubbed my lower back in a very loving manner, “Yeah go ahead princess.” Unlike me, he didn’t whisper but spoke loudly, the tiny chatter I could barely hear from his phone had gone quiet. I went back to the kitchen and began with the rice and rice cooker.

“I was talking to my girlfriend.” Hoseok said as a matter of fact. He pauses and scoffs, turning his back to me while his tone grew sharp. 

“Mr. Robins, I told you it was my time off. Don’t act surprised now! You’ve already cut into an important night so might as well finish this.”

When Hoseok speaks again it’s been a few minutes. I’m cooking the beef in the pan, the cackling and sizzling of it in the pan drowning out his words.

“Tell them I said that such petty threats do nothing for me. Let them know that my offer has an expiration date.” He pauses, glancing at me.

“Also Mr. Robins, don’t call outside of work hours anymore. I allowed it in the past, but let’s not make it a habit anymore. So tonight is the last time. But yes, talk to you soon.” 

I turn my focus back to the meat, cooking it evenly before moving it to a plate. I start to put the noodles in the pot with boiling water and move to cut the vegetables I set out.

“Let me help.” Hoseok says from beside me. I jump, surprised to see him so close. His phone was no longer with him and set on the dining table. He looked down at me with a kind smile, his dimples on display as he did so.

“Okay,” I giggle, “Can you cut the vegetables for me?” He nods, and moves to the sink to watch his hands. 

“You made yourself comfortable,” He chuckles, looking over his shoulder at me. 

My cheeks warm up, “See, I knew you were going to say that. I was going to wait to ask if I could use your kitchen but I got hungry.”

We work in a comfortable silence, the sound of water boiling and the clunk of the knife hitting the cutting board. I drained the noodles and checked on the rice in the rice cooker. 

We work efficiently and Hoseok turns to randomly smile at me every few minutes. I giggled each time, asking him if something was wrong. He’d only smile and shake his head no. The noodles were just about done, and I was lightly stir-frying them with the beef and the vegetables. Hoseok was washing the dishes. 

This moment felt very domestic and I loved it. It wasn’t long before I was plating both meals and bringing them to the dining table. I gently moved some of the papers to the side, shuffling others together into stacks. Hoseok swiftly washed the rest of the dishes while I set the table. 

His quick movements revealed just how hungry he was. I can’t be surprised. I’m sure his lunch was earlier in the day, and the rain killed our plans. He saw me shivering and thought it’d be better to cancel the dinner reservation he had for after the movie.

We eat in silence for a bit, our stomachs were crying out for some food. The pleased exhale as he eats has me thanking my mom in my heart. 

The times she’d make me stay with her in the kitchen has come in handy. That’s how she’d try to bond with me, since work kept her away a lot. I naturally picked up on her recipes and at the young age of 12, I could cook dinner for the whole family. 

That’s how the dream of becoming a chef manifested itself. My parents supported it, believing that’s what I was really going to pursue. But it was a phase I held onto for a year. 

“It’s good?” I asked, taking my chopsticks and grabbing my side of rice. I put some rice in my mouth, watching Hoseok for an answer. He chewed and swallowed the noodles before grinning at me.

“You know it’s good.” He answered in a teasing manner, “I might have you over here every night.” He looks down at his food, missing the way my eyes widen at his words.

Have me over here every night? He was too focused on his food to notice my still figure. By the time I snapped out of it, a pregnant quiet fell over us. 

Once again it was a comfortable quiet. We were simply enjoying each other’s company. We’d talk every once in a while, Hoseok finding something to say that would cause me to laugh. Was he always this funny? 

I narrowed my eyes at him, realizing that he was speaking his thoughts more. I enjoyed it, gladly listening to whatever he’d have to say. 

“What time do you need to wake up tomorrow?” His question was coming out of left field, seeing as he was previously talking about how much he enjoyed the seasoning on the beef. 

“I’ll need to get home then get ready, so probably 8 am. They have me coming in later, since I’m only doing paperwork.” A slight pout on my lips as I spoke. Ugh, paperwork. It’s what I dislike the most about my job but I’ll be confined in my office doing just that. 

“Okay, I’ll drive you home, then to work.” He informs me, taking some more noodles in his mouth. 

I could only nod in response, and we returned to silence. We never really said that I’d be staying the night, but a wordless understanding was met. As I finished my food, I noticed Hoseok glancing at his phone, checking the time. I drummed my fingers lightly on the table, curious if he had something he had to attend to. 

I waited till he was done with his food, looking up to meet my blank expression. 

“What’s up?” He says simply, putting his chopsticks into the bigger glass bowl. 

I lean forward, setting an elbow on the table, “Do you have something to do? You keep looking at your phone.”

He blinks at me, trying to figure out how to respond. The guilty look on his face told me everything I needed to know. 

“I just have some contracts I need to write up. I didn’t want to ignore you while yo--”

I cut him off, vigorously shaking my head. 

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I know you’re a busy man, and you weren’t expecting me to be staying here so you don’t have to entertain me. I’ll watch TV or something.” 

He raises an eyebrow at me, his hair now dry and ruffled out like it was just brushed. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure.” I confirm, reaching my hand out to smooth out his hair. 

~!~ 

I only watched TV for an hour before I was growing bored. I grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. I passed various shows, seeing the scenes flash on the large flat screen for no more than a second. I groaned into defeat, deciding that I’d just review some medical notes from my email. 

I noticed my purse carelessly thrown on the loveseat adjacent to me. I stood up, grabbing the pursue and situating myself in that same loveseat. 

I figured that since Hoseok was somewhere in the condo working, I couldn’t disturb him much from the living room. I glanced around me, looking at the spiral stairs that led to the second level. 

Using bluetooth, I connected my phone to the Bose soundbar that the TV was using as an output. Music always helps me study and review. Whether it was patient files or some techniques that I had to brush up on. 

My phone showed that it was 11:47pm. After a long day of work, I would have been knocked out on my bed, knowing that another tiring day was waiting for me in the morning. I took note that my phone was at 56%. I’d had to go bother Hoseok for a charger soon.

I hit shuffle on my studying playlist, and opened up my emails to review patient notes. I won’t be working those cases till next week but it was good to show up prepared. I keep the volume low, leaving it just loud enough to fill the living room. If it’s too loud, Hoseok will let me know. 

I’m looking over files and notes on a burn victim, along with the progress on Mrs. Choi. Her physical therapy is going well. It’s moving slowly but they believe she will walk again, however it seems her motivation is dwindling. 

Her husband shows no signs of progress. He is still in a coma that leaves doctors to truly unable understand the length of the damage he has from the car accident. 

The notes were a lot. Long detailed files and charts for patients. I’ll be the one typing all these up when I head back to work. As the song changes to something with a faster tempo, I start bobbing my head to the beat. Soon my shoulders join in, having my body do a stiff and closed off jig in my seat. 

My attention was on the notes, so I wasn’t putting much effort into my rhythmic movements. I’m sitting there reading for some time, and when I check the time again it’s 12:54am. 

I take a break, locking my phone and dropping it in the loveseat as I stand up. My playlist is still on, a funky R&B song coming on just as I’m walking towards the dining room. I was going to head into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

I stop my steps, letting my hips sway to the beat in the middle of the living room. I close my eyes, mouthing the words and slowing my movements to the breakdown of the song. I let the song get to the chorus before I stroll to the dining room.

I walk to the beat, switching on the dining room lights. I could faintly hear the song, singing the song under my breath now. I don’t bother turning on the kitchen lights. I grab a water bottle like this as if my own home and dash back to the living room.

I barely turn off the dining room lights as my feet shuffle along the floor. I’m back in the center of the living room, opening the bottle to take a sip of water before setting it on the center table. The space between the center table and the couches was enough for me to dance. 

I just felt like dancing, forgetting that I wasn’t in my own apartment. However, Hoseok’s presence somewhere else in this place brought a sense of safety and comfort. The notes were all forgotten about as another song came on,having me rock to the beat. 

I’m circling my hips in a provocative manner, bending my knees and holding one arm up as I do so. I stick my tongue out a bit, feeling myself. My confidence is growing since I’m by myself. Or so I thought. 

I keep dancing, closing my eyes as if it could help me hit the high notes the singer was reaching. The slow winding of my hips momentarily stutter to a stop when two hands enclose either side of them. 

I jump, the touch startling me. I felt Hoseok’s chest against my back and his breath on the back of my neck. I let out a shaky breath as his crotch lightly brushed my butt. I hear his shallow breaths close to my ear. His hands are big, his hands are hot and grip me just right. 

Trying to shake off the hot and heavy atmosphere falling over us, I kept dancing as I was, humming the song as if nothing had changed. My butt brushing his crotch every movement. 

“Are you done with your contracts? That didn’t take too long.” I said over my shoulder. 

“I worked quickly cause I could hear you having your own little party out here.” His voice was playful. He placed a kiss on the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to rise all over my body. 

We establish a steady rhythm, his hips moving with mine. It wasn’t crazy sexual, but I was impressed by how fluidly his hips moved, along with the bit of distance he kept between my rear end and his crotch, like he was worried I wouldn’t like him pressed on me.

“I was reading some notes, but the music distracted me.” I answered, as a slower track came on. Our bodies swayed in a sluggish fashion. I lean my body back into him, my whole body pressed into him. I leaned my head back, and closed my eyes.

“I can relate.” He says softly.

“Oh yeah,” I mention, “You said you wanted to be a dancer?” His hands on my hips are replaced by his arms enclosing my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his cheek against my cheek.

He giggles at the uncertainty in my voice, “Is it still hard to believe?” 

“A little bit.” I reply, “What type of dancing did you do?” 

Hoseok inhales and exhales slowly, looking forward like he could see the memorie playing before him.

“I’d dance whatever I could learn,” He says vaguely, “I was just happy to be dancing.” 

“You can still dance...with me. I’ll always be your dancing partner.” 

“Thank you for the offer Y/n...I’ll gladly think about it.”

“I mean I’m no professional, but I can stay on beat, and I like to have fun so you’ll never be bored.” 

He opens his mouth and closes it again, deciding not to speak. 

“But before you can even ponder on my offer, you have to show me your dancing skills! I need to see what you got!” I challenge, and his arms pull me in tighter to him. I could feel the steady hits of his heartbeat against my back.

The song faded to quiet, before another track began. It picked up a bit more than the last track, fun and quick tango beat to it.

Hoseok let me out of his arms, spinning me around to face him. I was astounded by the speed in which he spun me around. He clasped one hand of mine in his. He moved my other hand to rest on the bicep of his arm that had it’s hand placed on my waist. 

He straightened his posture, tilting his chin up a bit while he gazed down at me. 

“Just follow after me okay?” He said quietly, as if we were dancing in secret. 

I tried. I tried to keep up. The first few steps were rough. He was clearly moving a bit slower for me, waiting as I caught onto the basic steps, before he picked up the pace. It was easy to dance with Hoseok after that. 

He was truly leading me, surprising me with some quick spins and other flares of flavor. 

I giggled as he spun me, bringing me close to his body. My chest was falling and rising as I tried to catch my breath, staring back into Hoseok’s eyes. 

It was only a second as he began to move his feet again, having me follow along with the rhythmic steps. 

Now my arm was wrapped around his shoulder and neck, while my other hand was clasped in his. I yelped in surprise as he dipped me. So low I was worried he’d drop me. As he brings me back up, I let go of his hand and wrap my other arm around his neck.

He brings his face close to mine as we stand there, catching our breath. I, breathing a lot more heavy than him.

Hoseok shows a soft smile, wrapping both his arms around my waist. 

“Wow,” I say in-between small gasps for air, “You really can dance.” 

Hoseok chuckles at my dazed expression, leaning forward to kiss my lips. A peck so quick, by the time my eyes are fluttering closed, he is pulling away. 

“Do you want to get back to your patient notes?” He licks his lips, his eyes flickering down to my lips.

I shake my head, “I want you to kiss me again.” 

He hums in response, leaning in close to kiss me again. A short peck, followed by a lingering kiss. His arms around me tightened and melted into him. Our heads tilted as we deepened the kiss. My heart hammering in my ears, and my stomach twisting into nervous knots. 

His lips are soft, warm and welcoming. Everytime we kiss, it feels like I’m trying to get a message of my feelings to him. Hoseok, however, kisses me slowly and in a cherishing manner. Like it’ll be the last time he kisses me, like he needs me to breathe. 

Each and every time, I’m left weak in the knees. My heart is squeezing with delight. He doesn’t always say how he feels. A lot of time he’ll say it randomly or in passing, as if he didn’t want a whole moment around it. 

But the execution of his actions make me feel warm inside. 

The small touches, his hand on my back, the way he’ll pause a work call to listen to whatever I have to say. Picturing him as the same cold gentlemen I met nearly 4 months ago, makes my heart grow in size.

But that also makes me wonder, should I be the first to tell him I love him? Hoseok is so casual about things, whether it’s due to his discomfort or he doesn’t see the significance, that he might not say such words right out. 

The way he calls me his girlfriend now, although he didn’t ask me to be his girlfriend, shows he doesn’t see a need for all the formalities.

He sighs as he draws his lips away from mine, kissing my cheek, my jaw and then a small kiss on my neck. He hides his face in my neck, my arms tighten around him so we were hugging.

I bring a hand up to rest on his hair, “Thank you for such a fun date.” 

“You don’t have to lie Y/n, I know it was sucky.” He says, his lips brushing against my skin.

“It wasn’t at all. I had fun, I always have fun with you.”

“I’m not exactly the life of the party Y/n.” 

“You’re a lot more fun than you think. You’re also a lot kinder than you realise. I know you were probably exhausted, but you still went to the movies with me.”

“And you cooked for me,” He smiles. I know cause I can feel it against my neck and collar bone. I thought he was going to say something else, his statement felt incomplete so we stood in silence as I waited for him to speak again.

When he didn’t I listened to his soft breathing. 

“You’re clearly tired, so let’s get you to bed okay?” I said. He drew back from me, staring at me with jaded eyes, and I could only giggle at the tired pout on his lips. He was totally starting to fall asleep in my arms.

I pinched his cheek and pecked him on the lips before stepping out of his arms and walking over to my phone left forgotten in the love seat. I disconnected it from the soundbar from my phone, and switched it off. 

Hoseok goes to turn off most of the lights, leaving the small doorway light on. I followed him up the stairs, my strides slowing down as we got to the hallway. 

He stopped walking, leaving me just a view of his back. He looked to the door on his left, before turning to me. 

“So here’s the guest room.” He said gesturing to the room. 

I awkwardly nodded, rubbing my hands together and walking closer to him, opening the door to see a plain but nice bedroom.

A larger twin size bed with a desk closet and a TV. 

I stare at the room, knowing that Hoseok was also watching my reaction.

He’s being considerate. He doesn’t want to make me uncomfortable by assuming I’d want to share a room with him, but damn I’d like if he’d at least ask me. I don’t want to deal with the horrifying embarrassment of telling him I want to sleep in the same bed. 

The rain was still falling, the occasional thunder sounding, but this time further away.

“Alright,” I say, turning to face him. I muster up a smile, and open my mouth to speak. 

Hoseok is looking at me with a rigged smile. 

“Good n-”

“Y/n?” Hoseok cut me off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He looks off to the side as he thinks.

I blink up at him, knowing what he wants to say. This shouldn’t be a big deal! Why are we both feeling so nervous? I’ve already had my hand around his dick for goodness sake! 

“I want you to come sleep in my room...with me.” He finally looks at me, staring at me with a cute uncertainty. 

I laugh, “Good! My goodness! I thought you weren’t going to say anything!” I chime, stepping out the guest bedroom. I closed the door behind me and saw Hoseok’s scoff of disbelief.

“What?” I ask.

“You were just going to watch me stress like that? Why didn't you say you wanted to sleep in my room?” He complained.

“Oh please! I don’t need to be the one making all the first steps!” I hissed, poked his chest.

“Plus, you’re the one that led me to a guest bedroom! I’ve already had my hand around your dick for fuck’s sake!” I add, giggling and the wink he gives me.

“Do you want it in your hands again?” He whispers, stepping closer to me. I back up, pressed against the guest bedroom door. He smirks at me, placing a bashful kiss on my cheek.

“Stop messing around!” I say, slipping past him while he snickers at my shyness. 

“Or, would you rather have it in your mouth this time?” He jeers. My eyes widen and I start screaming as if to run from the embarrassment that was manifesting it’s in my warm face.

He laughs at my cringing squeals, taking my hand in his and leading me towards the door at the end of the hallway. 

His room is dimly lit, but I could make out the beautiful ivory colored walls. The bed was a large king size bed that sat low. The black bed frame was low, only lifting the mattress off the floor a foot or two. The bedsheets were a rich and dark green, tying together the whole aura of the room. There was a tall lamp that stood on the left side of the bed, and it was the only light on. 

Though it was nothing compared to the lights fixtures in the ceiling, it didn’t leave me completely blind and in the dark. 

I wasn’t aware of how weird i must have looked, standing there, staring at his room like I’d never seen a bedroom in my whole life. 

 He squeezed my hand, pulling me out of my daze.

“I’m sorry what did you say?” I asked, blinking at him. 

“I was saying that the bathroom is that way.” He pointed to a door on the further right side of the room, “It’s the door on the right. There is an unopened toothbrush if you want to brush your teeth.” 

He released my hand and scratched the back of his head. He looked down at the floors as he spoke, making me want to giggle at the embarrassment that was showing itself in his red ears. 

It made me feel better to remember that it isn’t just me that has never had such intimate and close moments with people. Something like having my own toothbrush at Hoseok’s place is a big deal. It’s an unspoken step into new territory. 

“Thanks.” I said softly, walking around him and further into the room. The room was spacious but also cozy. It was pretty simple and showed that Hoseok doesn’t spend much time here. He works all the time so I’m sure he just plops down and sleeps. 

He doesn’t sit in here to relax or anything like that. I heard the door close as I walked towards the bathroom, followed by the sound on Hoseok sitting on the bed.

I brushed my teeth swiftly, admiring the bathroom as I did so. One of those big showers with the tile walls, and glass doors. There was also a big white bathtub on the other side of the room. The sink was large and in the middle of a long rectangular marble counter. I stare at myself in the crystal clear mirror, feeling a bit out of place as I stare at my extravagant surroundings.

I continued to brush my teeth, and rinsed my mouth thoroughly, I set the purple tooth brush in the cup that held another orange brush. I used one of the towels to wipe off any water from around my mouth and walked out the bathroom, shutting off the lights. 

When I step out I’m met by Hoseok laying on the bed, his back to me. I couldn’t be sure if he’d fallen asleep, but I didn’t want to wake him. He was under the blankets, and looked like he’d settled in for the night.

The lamp on his side of the room was off, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. The moonlight shining through the window provided enough light to let me see the outside of his body. I tiptoed  over to the bed, lifting up the blankets and sliding in. The bed and everything around me smelled like Hoseok.

I smiled to myself, and looked up at the ceiling before closing my eyes and turning onto my side. My back was facing Hoseok, and I tried to keep some space between us. I wasn’t sure how much space he wanted. 

I slowly started to fall asleep, the comfort of the heavy blankets and the scent of Hoseok around me lulling me. 

I was barely awake when I felt Hoseok shift beside me, muttering something in a hoarse voice. 

“So far away.” He grumbles, before I felt some more shuffling. He slid his arm under my body, causing me to hum in response, since I was barely awake. 

My eyes stayed closed and I turned my body so I was facing him. That’s clearly what he wanted, as he wordlessly curled his arm up, pushing my body till my head was on his chest. I was too sleepy to say anything. All I could do was cuddle closer and rest my hand on his chest. 

“Are you awake?” He asks softly. When I don’t reply, he shifts slightly so his face is buried in my hair.

I fell asleep peacefully as his hand found my back and rubbed soothing circles.

~!~

“Why did you choose today of all days to follow the speed limit?” I mutter at Hoseok. He chuckles but keeps his eyes on the road. He wasn’t going his usual speed today, and though I find his speeding distasteful, today it would have come in handy. 

We woke up late, which is no surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well in my whole life. Being in Hoseok’s warm embrace soothed me all the way down to my soul. Although we were running late, he was still in a good mood.

He drove me back to my apartment, waited for me to get dressed for work, and is now driving me to the hospital. I won’t see him most of today, but we agreed to see each other tonight.

As we pulled into the Seoul Sky hospital, I had my passenger door opened before the car came to a full stop. I grabbed my purse, making sure it had everything I needed. 

I leaned towards Hoseok, kissing him on the cheek before kissing him on the lips shortly. Two pecks on the lips before I pulled away beaming at him. 

“I’ll see you later.” I said. 

He showed me a small smile and nodded, “See you later.”

“Don’t work yourself too hard!” I exclaim as I step out of the car, “And remember to eat!”

I close the car door and Hoseok rolls down the window, “Even when you’re in a rush you still manage to nag me!” 

“I nag you because I l-” My words stop short and I clasp my hand over my mouth. Hoseok, oblivious to what I was about to confess, raises his eyebrows at me in question.

“Because you..?” He trails off, but all I can do is smile awkwardly. 

“See you later!” I shout and bolt away from the car. I don’t look back as I jog through the automatic sliding doors. 

“Good morning Dr. L/N!” A nurse calls out to me. I stop in my tracks, recognizing the nurses at the front desk. I smiled, waving at them energetically.

“Good morning!” I chimed. 

“You’re running a little late aren’t you?” The older nurse stated. 

I nodded my head but before I could open my mouth, the rest of the nurses giggled. 

“You don’t have to explain, we could see it through the glass doors. Time moves quickly when you’re in love.” The older nurse said.

I stood there a bit confused before looking behind me at the sliding doors. It really was a perfect view of where Hoseok had stopped the car. I turned back to the nurses who were cheesing at me. 

  “It’s wonderful to have you back Dr. L/n, let us know if you need help with anything.”

I thanked them, heading to my office quickly. I was in a rush so I settled on some black dress pants and a blue dress shirt. My hair was styled in a rush so it looks decent. I made it to my office, happy to see it again. It wasn’t locked, which is strange but I didn’t think much of it. I set my bag down and grabbed my white coat. I pulled it on quickly and went to my desk. 

All I’ll be doing today is paperwork so I might as well get comfortable. I took my seat and turned on my computer, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Jennie waltzed in here with all the work I’d have to do.

The computer switched on quickly, but something else took my attention. On my desk was a red envelope. I waste no time opening it, thinking it was a welcome back card. Oh how I was wrong. 

Dear, Y/n. I am so glad to have you back. The whole department has felt incomplete since you left. I was very hurt when Jennie informed me that you weren’t allowing anyone to visit you as you recovered. You did not answer my phone calls either. I was sad to hear you got hurt and fell down the stairs. It seems your boyfriend isn’t taking good care of you. But I am glad you have recovered fully. Please come see me when you have the chance. This may be inappropriate but the absence of your presence has helped me realize something. 

Sincerely Taemin. 

I stared at the letter in confusion. Now what the hell is Dr. Lee doing? What is this? My face scrunches up in annoyance as I read over the letter again. This is completely inappropriate and leaves me feeling uncomfortable. 

I’ve turned down Dr. Lee’s advances before, taking them as jokes but by the sound of this letter, he wanted me to take his advances seriously. I ignored the login screen of my computer and stood up from my chair with the letter in my hand. 

I stepped out my office and headed down the hallway, knowing that Dr. Lee would be making his rounds instead of being in his office. I’d have to go around a bit before finding him. But sitting on such an issue would leave me unable to work all day. 

I rounded the corner, greeting regular patients with a small smile. Some of them told me they missed me and others smiled at me with shining eyes. For a second I forgot about the awful letter Dr. Lee left for me. I am back at work and even though I’m stuck with paperwork, the atmosphere was enough for me. 

I turned around a corner and crashed into a familiar person.

“Hey, there you are!” Jennie chimed. She smiled at me, wearing her usual red lipstick and that iconic slicked ponytail was just as sharp as ever. Her eyelashes look really long and she looked happier than usual.

“Yup, I’m back to work. It feels great.” I answer. 

“I’m sure your date yesterday went well? You’re radiating happiness.” She mentions.

I raise an eyebrow at her, “Am I? Cause I'm pissed off.”

Her brows furrowed and she looked concerned. The question she was about to ask was clear.

“No, it has nothing to do with Hoseok. The date was...amazing.” My tone softens at the mention of Hoseok.

“So what’s got you so angry, so early in the morning?”

I handed her the letter, watching her face expression change as she opened it and read it. 

The humorless laugh that struggles it’s way past her lips makes me wanna scoff all over again.

“This is weird.” She groans. 

“It’s very weird.” I double down, “This is totally inappropriate. You know I am chill about many things, but I don’t like stuff like this at work from co-workers! How many times have I rejected him? This isn’t harmless banter anymore.” 

I speak in a low voice, watching as different nurses and doctors pass us. 

“Are you going to bring this up to Hose-”

I cut her off, “Of course not! I haven’t seen a jealous Hoseok and I don’t think I want to. He’ll come in here and scare Dr. Lee. Working here will be even more uncomfortable.”

“I know he’s on the second floor.” She says, and points towards the elevator not too far from us. 

“I can’t be sure how he’ll react so could you come with me?”

“Of course! Did you think I was going to let you do that alone? Let’s go!” She takes hold of my arm and pulls me along. 

While in the elevator she tells me about all the awful comments he’d make while I was gone. Jennie brushed most of them off but a few were too much.

He’d say, “Where is that boyfriend of hers?”

“That guy looks controlling. She doesn’t want me to visit her or he doesn’t?”

And a few more that were totally unfitting for a work environment. She wasn’t even going to bring it up to me, but she didn’t expect ‘love letters’ to start becoming a thing.

The elevator doors opened and before we stepped off we could hear chaos. Jennie and I looked at each other in disarray. We stepped off the elevator to hear loud yelling and shouting from different people. Other patients were running away from the noise, telling us that it was coming from our right.

Our stroll turned into a speed walk, and I hid the letter in my lab coat pocket. We turn the corner and the yelling is louder. 

We see Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin, a newer doctor standing outside a familiar hospital room.

“Mrs. Choi?” I mutter to myself. Jennie and I approach the situation, Dr. Lee being the first one to see us. I don’t miss the way he smiles when he spots me. I had to fight a grimace off my face.

“What is going on?” Jennie askes, catching Dr. Shin’s attention this time. She moves her focus from Jennie and right to me. 

“Oh thank you goodness you’re back Dr. L/n! Please calm these ladies down!” She cries, running her fingers through her auburn hair. 

I take a look into the room, the door being wide open. There was Mrs. Choi screaming at the top of her lungs at another woman. This woman was a lot younger than her, looking to be in her late 20’s. Her hair was long and brown with soft waves. She wore stylish jeans with boots and a lovely top and a lovely trench coat. 

From the wonderful jewelry on her neck and the rings on her fingers, she’s clearly someone who is well off. Both women were red in the face while they screamed at each other.

“Who is the younger lady? Why haven’t you called security?” I looked at both Dr. Lee and Dr. Shin. 

“Well…” Dr. Shin hesitated to speak, looking down at her feet in guilt. 

“So I was wonder why Mrs. Choi didn’t have any family? She was feeling so down lately and her husband wasn’t getting any better. The psychical therapists said she was losing motivation in their sessions so I tried to help.” Dr. Shin looked up to find my dubious face expression.

I crossed my arms over my chest, “What did you do?” I hate how accusing my tone was, but the hospital Dr. Shin transferred from told us she would cause trouble. A lot of nurses have been avoiding her. Some say she’s too spunky, and focuses too much on making her personality shine through.

“I did some digging and it turns out she has kids! There was no information on the son, but I was able to find her daughter! So I invited her daughter here as a surprise.”

Both Jennie and I groaned. 

“You can't do things like that!” Jennie scolded.

“I know, I know! But I didn’t think things would turn out like this!” She whined.

I couldn’t say anything to Dr. Shin as the argument between the two women was escalating.

“What is the daughter’s name?” Jennie whispers. 

“Her english name in Helena. We don’t know her Korean name.” Dr. Lee answers. 

“You don’t get my pity mom!” Helena shouts. She’s standing at the end of her mother’s bed tears running down her cheeks. 

“You set me away! You pushed everyone away! You tricked yourself into believing dad was a bad person because you wanted an excuse for falling out of love with him! You could have just divorced him!”

“You don’t know what I was going through!” Ms. Choi shouts back.

Helena snaps back just as quickly, “You sent me away! You sent me away from you, dad...Hobi.”

Hobi? Who is that?

“I sent you away because I wanted you to be safe! I love you Helena!” Mrs. Choi’s voice was growing hoarse from the screaming and  I was getting ready to jump in.

“Bullshit!” Helena spits, “Bullshit! You sent me away and never called. I never even got a fucking letter. I grew up without you. I graduated college without you. I moved on with my life without you. You never cared for me. You were so fucking focused on Hobi! You just wanted me out the way. No one would tell me where the fuck Hobi was so I couldn’t find him to even attend dad’s funeral.”

Dad’s funeral? So Mrs. Choi’s husband who is in the coma, is not the father of her daughter?

She vigorously wipes her tears off her face, “You keep telling yourself you did what you had to when in reality, you’re just a shitty person.”

“Am I?” Ms. Choi croaks, “Am I really that awful because I thought I deserved to be happy?” 

“Your journey to happiness left a path of destruction for everyone else. You’ve lost you fucking mind if you believe anything you did was okay.” Helena’s voice toned down. The both of the basked in the heavy silence. 

Helena let out a solemn chuckle, almost like her mother was the joke.

“Well, mom,” she emphasized the word ‘mom’, “Did you find the happiness you wanted?” I couldn’t see her face fully, just her profile...but she reminded me of someone.

She shows her mom a sarcastic smile, “I mean look at you. Look at where you are. Your new precious husband is stuck in a long sleep and they don’t know when he’ll wake up. Your legs aren’t working and you’re all alone. I only showed up so I could get the years of hurt off my chest. So since you can’t run away…” She gestures to her mom in the bed. 

“I’m gonna finally say, fuck you mom. Dad was never the bad guy. Hobi might have been gullible enough to believe your foolishness but I always saw right through it. It was you...it was always you. You don’t deserve any happiness.” She finishes, glaring at the old woman staring back at her with sad eyes. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after that. I will waltz in here every day and remind you that this is a product of your own choices. When you’re ready to apologize I’ll listen.” She grabs her purse from the guest chair and turns to face all of us at the door. 

Her eyes flicker across  each of our faces and I feel a prick in my chest. I feel weird. Should I know this lady? Something tells me I should know Helena but I’m drawing a blank. 

She pushes past us and down the hallway.

No one speaks to Mrs. Choi and she doesn’t speak to us. We all can only shift in discomfort. No words could bring comfort after such harsh lashings were thrown. We can only look on in distraught cause for some reason...the pity we’ve felt for poor old Ms. Choi was no more. 

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Alrightty, what did you guys think?! Things are progressing right! We’re moving into the next phase of the story! Yay! 

Tell me what you think? What do you think will happen next? How do you feel about Mrs. Choi? Was she right in what she did?

Inbox me too! I love hearing y’alls thoughts!

[maandarinee]

what are all the podcasts you listen to?

anon I'm so glad you asked

Since it is a pretty long list including synopses (stolen from the podcast feed or website because I'm Bad at summaries and in some cases it's been a while since I listened) I'm going to put it under a cut.

I've separated the list into "Complete" (either finished or cancelled) and "Ongoing" podcasts. Some have additional comments by me. Current favorites are marked orange. My eternal beloved are Our Fair City and Wolf 359.

Complete

ars PARADOXICA: "When an experiment in a time much like our own goes horribly awry, Dr. Sally Grissom finds herself stranded in the past and entrenched in the activities of a clandestine branch of the US government. Grissom and her team quickly learn that there's no safety net when toying with the fundamental logic of the universe."

Blackwood: "Five years ago, Molly Weaver, Bryan Anderson, and Nathan Howell started a podcast focused on the local legend of a monster called The Blackwood Bugman. Quickly, the investigation grew out of their control, as they discovered that, not only are the legends seemingly true, many people in Blackwood have turned up dead or disappeared without a trace." --> [this feels like the Blair With Project, but as a podcast. Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

Dreamboy: "Dane, a spun-out musician spending the winter in Cleveland, Ohio, has two main goals: keeping his job at the Pepper Heights Zoo and trying not to waste all his time on Grindr. What he doesn’t expect is to get swept into a story about dreams, about forevers, about flickering lights, about unexplained deaths, about relentless change, and about the parts of ourselves that we wish other people knew to look for. Oh, and also a murderous zebra." --> [very NSFW; does cool things with music! Didn't get a second season due to no funding, but it works as a standalone]

King Fall AM: "...centers on a lonely little mountain town's late-night AM talk radio show and its paranormal, peculiar happenings and inhabitants." --> [cancelled after 100 episodes, ends on a huge cliffhanger]

Our Fair City: "A campy, post-apocalyptic audio drama." --> [I know the description sounds like nothing but just trust me, I love it so much]

Steal the Stars: "...is a gripping noir science fiction thriller in 14 episodes: Forbidden love, a crashed UFO, an alien body, and an impossible heist unlike any ever attempted."

Stellar Firma: "...a weekly Science Fiction, Comedy podcast following the misadventures of Stellar Firma Ltd.'s highest born but lowest achieving planetary designer Trexel Geistman and his bewildered clone assistant David 7. Join them each episode as they attempt to take listener submissions and craft them into the galaxy's most luxurious, most expensive and most questionably designed bespoke planets. However, with Trexel's corporate shark of a line manager Hartro Piltz breathing down their necks and I.M.O.G.E.N., the station's omnipresent and omniinvasive stationwide A.I. monitoring those necks to within 3 decimal places, they'll be lucky to make it a week before being slurried and recycled into raw human resources." --> [semi-improvised, I thought I'd have a problem with the improv bit because that's not usually my thing, but no, I absolutely devoured this]

TANIS: "...is a serialized docudrama about a fascinating and surprising mystery: the myth of Tanis. Tanis is an exploration of the nature of truth, conspiracy, and information. Tanis is what happens when the lines of science and fiction start to blur." [+ spinoff The Last Movie] --> [I have no clue what the hell is going on here]

The Black Tapes: "...is a serialized docudrama about one journalist's searc for truth, her enigmatic subject's mysterious past, and the literal and figurative ghosts that haunt them both."

The Magnus Archives: "...is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organisation dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team. Individually, they are unsettling. Together they begin to form a picture that is truly horrifying because as they look into the depths of the archives, something starts to look back…"

Time:Bombs: "...a new audio drama podcast about the hilarious world of bomb disposal. Ride along with EOD technician Simon Teller on the busiest night of the year for him and his team - when business is, quite literally, booming."

Wolf 359: "Life's not easy for Doug Eiffel, the communications officer for the U.S.S. Hephaestus Research Station, currently on Day 448 of its orbit around red dwarf star Wolf 359. He's stuck on a scientific survey mission of indeterminate length, 7.8 light years from Earth. His only company on board the station are stern mission chief Minkowski, insane science officer Hilbert, and Hephaestus Station's sentient, often malfunctioning operating system Hera. He doesn't have much to do for his job other than monitoring static and intercepting the occasional decades-old radio broadcast from Earth, so he spends most of his time creating extensive audio logs about the ordinary, day-to-day happenings within the station. But the Hephaestus is an odd place, and life in extremely isolated, zero gravity conditions has a way of doing funny things to people's minds. Even the simplest of tasks can turn into a gargantuan struggle, and the most ordinary-seeming things have a way of turning into anything but that." --> [starts funny, turns very intense]

Ongoing

Alba Salix, Roya Physician (+ The Axe & Crown): "A witch, her apprentice, and her fairy herbalist treat the ills of a fairy-tale kingdom." + "Gubbin the troll tavernkeeper deals with his clueless new landlord, his shady niece, and some new competition."

Archive 81: "A found footage horror podcast about ritual, stories, and sound."

Arden: "A (fictional) true crime podcast about cold cases and the reporter and detective who try to solve them."

Brimstone Valley Mall: "The year is 1999. Lurking somewhere between Hot Topic and the food court, five misfit demons from Hell kill time inciting sin in a suburban shopping mall. When the lead singer of their band goes mysteriously missing, the demons only have two weeks to find him before they play the biggest gig of the millennium - or face the wrath of Satan herself."

CARAVAN: "First rule of Wound Canyon: No one who gets in, ever gets out. So when a brilliant, ghostly specter flies through the sky amid the rain and lightning, Samir stumbles off a steep cliff and into a hidden world, one in which demons, vampires, and all other manner of paranormal creatures take sanctuary." --> [also pretty NSFW and horny in general]

Death by Dying: "The Obituary Writer of Crestfall, Idaho finds himself deeply in over his head as he investigates a series of strange and mysterious deaths… when he is supposed to simply be writing obituaries. Along the way he encounters murderous farmers, man-eating cats, haunted bicycles, and a healthy dose of ominous shadows." --> [I had to stop listening to this in public because it kept making me undignified laugh and snort noises]

Desperado: "Blood magic, Voodoo magic, old gods, new gods: We've got it all! Follow the story of misfits from all over the world, as they try to survive and protect their heritage from modern-day crusaders."

EOS 10: "Doctors in space, a deposed alien prince, a super gay space pirate and a fiery nurse who'll help you win your bar fight."

Girl In Space: "Abandoned on a dying ship in the farthest reaches of known space, a young scientist fights for survival (and patience with the on-board A.I.). Who is she? No one knows. But a lot of dangerous entities really want to find out. Listen as the story unfolds for science, guns, trust, anti-matter, truth, beauty, inner turmoil, and delicious cheeses. It’s all here. In space."

Janus Descending: "...follows the arrival of two xenoarcheologists on a small world orbiting a binary star. But what starts off as an expedition to survey the planet and the remains of a lost alien civilization, turns into a monstrous game of cat and mouse, as the two scientists are left to face the creatures that killed the planet in the first place. Told from two alternating perspectives, Janus Descending is an experience of crossing timelines, as one character describes the nightmare from end to beginning, and the other, from beginning to the end." --> [absolutely harrowing horror]

Love and Luck: "...is a fictional radio play podcast, told via voicemails and set in present day Melbourne, Australia. A slice of life queer romance story with a touch of magic, it follows the relationship between two men, Jason and Kane, as their love grows both for each other and their community." --> [soft and gay, feels like a warm hug]

Potterless: "Join Mike Schubert, a grown man reading the Harry Potter series for the first time, as he sits down with HP fanatics to poke fun at plot holes, make painfully incorrect predictions, and bask in the sassiness of the characters." --> [the only non-fiction podcast on the list]

Primordial Deep: "When a long extinct sea creature washes up on the shores of Coney Island, marine biologist Dr. Marella Morgan is contacted by a secret organization to investigate the origins of the creature’s sudden and unnatural resurgence. Soon, she and a team of experts find themselves living on the research station The Tiamat, traveling along the abyssal plains as they search for answers far below the waves. But there are dangers in these ancient waters. Reawakened, prehistoric monsters are rising from the deep -- jaws wide and waiting, and in the darkness, something is stirring."

Red Valley: "No one at Overhead Industries wants to talk about defunct research station Red Valley, and account man Warren Godby is out of his depth. When he meets Gordon Porlock, a disgruntled archivist with a bag of tapes from the station’s last known occupant, they will begin a journey to the limits of experimental science, confront horror and trauma from the past, present and future, and try to remember the cheat codes from Sonic the Hedgehog 2."

Rusty Quill Gaming: "An actual play podcast following a mixed ability group of comedians, improvisers, gamers, and writers as they play through the extended, tabletop roleplaying campaign Erasing the Line, an original game world of the GM’s crafting." --> [took me a while to get into because I have trouble focusing on non-scripted things, but eventually I got really hooked on the plot and attached to the characters. This podcast is really fucked up at times if you think about it]

SAYER: "A narrative fiction podcast set on Earth’s man-made second moon, Typhon. The eponymous SAYER is a highly advanced, self-aware AI created to help acclimate new residents to their new lives, and their new employment with Ærolith Dynamics." --> [feels like Welcome to Night Vale but narrated by GLaDOS from Portal]

StarTripper!!: "Join Feston Pyxis on a road-trip through the cosmos, as he leaves behind his old life in search of the best and wildest experiences the galaxy has to offer!"

The Amelia Project: "...is a secret agency that fakes its clients' deaths, then lets them reappear with a brand new identity! A black comedy full of secrets, twists... and cocoa."

The Big Loop: "...a biweekly anthology series. Each episode is a self-contained narrative exploring the strange, the wonderful, the terrifying, and the heartbreaking. Stories of finite beings in an infinite universe." --> [I don't like anthologies, except this one]

The Bright Sessions: "Dr. Bright provides therapy for the strange and unusual; their sessions have been recorded for research purposes." --> [think X-Men, but with therapy instead of a school]

The Deca Tapes: "Recordings have surfaced of ten people that are locked into the same space together. We don’t know where they are, or if they'll get out. But the answers must be somewhere on these tapes."

The Silt Verses: "Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories."

The White Vault: "Follow the collected records of a repair team sent to Outpost Fristed in the vast white wastes of Svalbard and unravel what lies waiting in the ice below."

Tides: "...is the story of Dr. Winifred Eurus, a xenobiologist trapped on an unfamiliar planet with hostile tidal forces. She must use her wits, sarcasm and intellectual curiosity to survive long enough to be rescued. But there might be more to life on this planet than she expected." --> [think The Martian, but on a water planet]

Unwell, a Midwestern Gothic Mystery: "Lillian Harper moves to the small town of Mt. Absalom, Ohio, to care for her estranged mother Dorothy after an injury. Living in the town's boarding house which has been run by her family for generations, she discovers conspiracies, ghosts, and a new family in the house's strange assortment of residents."

VAST Horizon: "Nolira is an agronomist tasked with establishing agriculture in a new solar system, but when she wakes up on a now- empty colony ship, the whole of her plan disappears. The ship has been set adrift, with numerous mission-critical problems requiring immediate attendance outside of her area of expertise. Nolira is aided by the ship’s malfunctioning AI, which acts as her confidant and companion during the fight for survival."

Victoriocity: "Even Greater London, 1887. In this vast metropolis, Inspector Archibald Fleet and journalist Clara Entwhistle investigate a murder, only to find themselves at the centre of a conspiracy of impossible proportions."

We Fix Space Junk: "...follows seasoned smuggler Kilner and reluctant fugitive Samantha as they travel the galaxy, dodging bullets and meeting strange and wonderful beings as they carry out odd jobs on the fringes of the law."

Welcome to Night Vale: "Twice-monthly community updates for the small desert town of Night Vale, where every conspiracy theory is true. Turn on your radio and hide."

Within the Wires: "Stories told through found audio from an alternate universe."

Wooden Overcoats: "Rudyard Funn and his equally miserable sister Antigone run their family's failing funeral parlour, where they get the body in the coffin in the ground on time. But one day they find everyone enjoying themselves at the funerals of a new competitor - the impossibly perfect Eric Chapman! With their dogsbody Georgie, and a mouse called Madeleine, the Funns are taking drastic steps to stay in the business…" --> [one of THE funniest podcasts I have ever listened to]

[mercysought]

You don’t know what love is.

V. is feeling like she’s part of some sick, half an eddie old flick. Staring out the window of Takemura’s car, the only thing that was missing was the rain pouring down. It was the wrong season for that, though. Still, she wasn’t really surprised that it would be this type of song playin’ in the radio of his car.

In truth, she had been chewing on her own tongue to stop herself from chewing him out. A proof of self control that she rarely afforded to dickheads in corpo suits. But Goro had this likability about him, and they were working together so what was the point of bringing it up right now? She had been a nail away from biting Oda’s head off when he told her to be quiet. Talk now, shut up now, do as a I say, ble, ble, ble. Fuck him, fuck them all with their sticks up their asses and their higher-than-thou attitude.

The volume of the music is lowered and V looks back to him, seeing Goro’s eyes on the road. Of course. She doubted that he would so much as touch a blade of grass if there was a polite request tellin’ him not to. 

   “You are unusually quiet.” with her arms tightly crossed over her chest, she can see Johnny seated in the back of the car. And that, for some reason, only made her feel more irrationally angry. Dark eyes glance in his direction and then at the road ahead of them “What is on your mind, V.?“

Well, a fucking parasite that gives her constant headaches and shitty one liners for one.  She only realises she had been chewing on her pinky finger’s nail when she starts feeling it bite back in pain and so she stops, closing her fist and taking a deep, deep sigh.

   “Don’t know what y’expected to happen.”

   “What do you mean?”

   “Y’told me to not confuse true honor with petty morals by which I live by.” oh, here we go. V. shifts in her seat, looking at these streets that she knew so well. She had spent a good part of her early teens in them after all “I saw no fuckin’ honor back there, just self-interested, arrogant cowards.“ Takemura’s face opens in surprise and his face moves completely from the road to face her. That made her feel a sick sense of satisfaction, and it felt fucking great. Like few things these days did. Her arms cross tighter on her chest and air catches on her throat. She’s the one that breaks eye contact to look to the road, muttering more to herself than to him “So far above the rest of the rabble, but your shit stinks as much as ours.” 

They would throw just about anyone under a bus if it meant they got ahead. Saburo, Yorinobu, Oda, Goro, himself. They were not too unlikely Dexter, the only difference was the shop of clothes they went to. The range of their wallet. And the fact they weren’t from around Night City. All of them with this sense of grandeur and that they were better than. V. glances to Takemura, whose eyes are back on the road but expression had grown darker.

Nothing to say, then?

   “I’m a fucking thief, or ‘your witness’ depending on what spin you want to put on it. I’m a piece of shit, sure, but I don’t try to paint myself with spray paint and claim to be gold. But here we are, I’m not worth listenin’ to because I’m not like you. I’m Night City Trash attempting to stand before the golden idols from Arasaka.”

   “You’re wrong — “

The car comes to a stop, but the engine keeps going. The radio does too, but V. doesn’t seem to listen to it.

   “I’m not finished!” she shifts in her seat to now fully look at him. Her eyes narrow and Goro’s lips close into a thin line. He is listening, fully listening even if he was displeased. And that was putting it lightly “In these streets, you’re beneath me in the food chain and how that must just fucking eat you up inside. So much so that you keep tryin’ to remind me of how fuckin’ worthless I am.“ leaning into the passanger seat, she closes the distance between them, her voice between a sneer and a whisper. He did not budge, did not move, leaning back or otherwise. He simply held her glare “Because I should be kept in my place, hm? Because it would be bad if the trash started feeling too comfortable?”

   “You know that I don’t think that. I am trying to help you.” his voice raises and, in turn, he pauses. Is it regret or annoyance she sees passing through his face? She wasn’t sure “This is the only way to save your life.”

   “You are trying to save yourself, Goro! Don’t fucking lie to me!” 

The raising of her voice and the slapping of the board stuns them both and for a second only the piano plays in the background as they continue to look at each other. She was a means to an end and to say otherwise was a lie! She wasn’t just some wide-eyed idiot that was wowed by the big world and that suddenly so important people were aknowleding her presence! Fuck them! Corpos tore through Japantown, turning it into an industrial block and then when the war ended left it to be torn to shreds and leaving only violence behind. 

And now, they all fucking turned around and called them animals, called them thiefs and criminals. Corpos had never done a single good thing for her except pay her to do that same shady shit that they kept loving to shame her for.

   “Once we speak with Hanako-sama, she will help you. You will not be able to find help from anyone else in Night City. Your skills and knowledge will be invaluable.”

   “I know. I know my worth! I don’t need your reassurance or... a pat on the head.” she falls back into the chair, the short nails brush unevenly against her skin. All of this was fucking tiresome, it made her feel angry, it made her feel small and she wasn’t about to let corpo cunts make her feel small. Scratch that, she wasn’t about to let anyone make her feel small. She opens her eyes to look at him “I need you to give me the respect that I am fucking owed.”

He falls silent again, but now looking deflated. If a man like Takemura could even look like that. She feels Johnny’s eyes burning on her, but she makes a point to not look at him. The last thing she needed was someone telling her what she already knew: I told you so, this is a waste of time, bla, bla, bla.

V. sighs once again, her right hand grabbing the door handle.

   “This is a waste of my time.“

   “Please, V.” he whispers, and it is not unlike when he did so in the dinner. Of course, he seemed far more arrogant then, that’s what happens when you see someone robbed of their implants, money and dignity. Because, of course, only people like him deserved to have such things. He looked at her in the eyes and the brow was smoother, more beaten. This city does that to you. This city changes you. His hand holds her arm, and she stops the motion. His hands feel cold and clammy from both his skin and the implants. Her jaw locks, eyes flickering up to his, half lidded in still simmering anger.

Until you've faced each dawn with sleepless eyes, You don't know what love is. 

His hand squeezes hers as he continues. His voice nearly drowned by the sound of the lively streets outside “I promise.“

A second passes and she pulls her arm away. A sigh exhaled through her nostrils as her hand opens the door. It is almost automatic the way that she lights the cigarette. Standing in the space just at the mouth of Jig Jig street, she feels the stink of the city and the cold breeze brush her hair back. With a glance towards Takemura, she waits for him to get out of the car, and they both enter the crowd, towards Wakako’s office.

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression, radio version - Ep 28, April 2016 - Opposition Party name change,  Madonna turning up late to own concert, Baseball players caught making illegal bets on games.

Kaoru introduces the shows concept, and then Joe. Joe tells Kaoru that he just had his 48th birthday the previous day, and Kaoru tells him he doesn't look 48. Joe expresses his wish to have someone to share his birthday with the following year (i.e. a girlfriend). Kaoru then reminds listeners about the appeal for a new jingle, and reads out the shows contact info.

They then introduce Dobashi. Joe tells Dobashi he looks tired, and asks if he is ok. Dobashi says he is tired. Hiranabe has been working him too hard. Kaoru says Hiranabe is quite popular with listeners. He even has female fans who call themselves 'Nabe gals/ナベギャル on twitter.

Dobashi's first news is that the main political  opposition party, The Democratic Party of Japan/Minshutō (DPJ) had merged with the Japan Innovation Party/Ishin no Tō (JIP), and announced thier new united party name to be The Democratic Party/Minshintō (DP). There were apparently many different name suggestions raised, as well as opinion polls carried out. Dobashi thinks its important to have a united opposition in the face of the Abe administration, but wonders how this will actually pan out. Kaoru wonders what these parties are all up to. It seems as if the party has just changed its name. In order to grab the attention of the people they need a striking manifesto or plan, which seems to be lacking here. Joe says the people still remember the last time the DPJ were briefly in power and performed badly. A simple name change won't make any difference to thier image. Dobashi mentions that the 3.11 Earthquake and tsunami happened during this short DPJ administration, so they still have quite a negative image in the eyes of the public. Joe says he has quite a few friends/aquaintances who are members of the DPJ, and sometimes goes out to eat with them. He thinks the Party's biggest weak point when they were briefly in power was that they had no idea how to control, or form relationships with the bureaucracy at Kasumigaseki (the Tokyo district which houses all of the government's cabinet offices). They were living in a kind of fantasy realm in thier heads, and presented no stand in the face of the bureaucracy. Then 3. 11 happened. Joe wonders if anything has changed about them since that time. Kaoru says he has felt no change at all about them, even with this new name. Do they think they will suddenly succeed just by changing their name?

Dobashi says it reminds him of radio/tv personality Kawakami Shinichiro (the topic of the previous show) who changed himself into 'Sean K', with nothing solid to back up his success otherwise. Kaoru says it must be tough for radio presenters now, with the increased scrutiny into thier history. Joe agrees, and says after this Sean K incident, he occasionally had to take time off due to illness, and was accused by some of feigning illness. They called him 'Joan K'.

Dobashi's next story is from the world of music, specifically that Madonna had appeared on stage 2 hours late at her scheduled concert in Brisbane, Australia, which was part of her world tour. The concert was due to start at 9pm, but she was still not on stage after 10pm. The concert eventually started at 11:22pm, and there was a lot of booing from the audience, though Madonna did apologize for the delay once she was on stage, and made a few excuses as to why she was late. She was also close to two hours late appearing on stage for her Japan leg of her tour. The three of them say it makes you wonder what she had been doing for two hours. Kaoru says there could be various reasons for the delay, such as the schedue not going to plan, problems with set up, or even idleness. However, he does recall one time Dir en grey appeared on stage 90 mins late at Osaka-jo Hall, around the time of thier debut. He explains that the background footage which they needed for thier show had not yet arrived, and they were told to wait until it did arrive. These were the days before the kind of email that we have now, you couldn't just send something over instantly. The footage was apparently on its way via the bullet train! Kaoru thinks the audience were probably annoyed. He doesn't remember whether any announcement was made informing the audience about the delay, but they might have just assumed the band were taking ages to do thier make up. Dir themselves didn't get into trouble, but the event planners etc did. Considering this, Kaoru suspects it might not be Madonna causing the delay herself, but some other factors may be at play behind the scenes.

Dobashi then brings up a certain Japanese artist know for idleness (in his words). Although no names are mentioned, this is refering to X Japan/Yoshiki, who's 2008 reunion concert had a two and a half hour starting delay. Again without mentioning names, Kaoru also mentions the time Yoshiki was late for one of his own Niconama broadcasts, which Kaoru was also a participant in, and they had to start the broadcast without him. Joe says he is quite good friends with Tamaki from the band Anzen Chitai, and he told him once that he had failed to attend a live tv broadcast because he was too busy song writing and he forgot about it. Joe says there can be many reasons why a person is late or doesn't turn up. Kaoru adds that reactions from others can also differ. Some people might think, 'Oh, with this guy it can't be helped', but others might be more unforgiving. Dobashi asks for more details about Yoshiki not turning up to the niconama broadcast. Kaoru says he eventually arrived and just apologized normally.

Next Kaoru reads out an email from a listener who is worried about Japanese baseball gaining a bad image after various troublesome  issues have arisen at the start of the new season, including the scandal of Yomiuri Giants players illegally betting with each other on games. Although he acknowledges this action is illegal in the eyes of the law, Kaoru wonders whether the players are really in the wrong, or whether the law is at fault. Regular people probably do the same thing when they go home to thier families during the new year, and it probably also raises motivation. He can't see how what the players are doing is much different. Joe says he thinks its dangerous to use the law to control the peoples' speculative spirit, because it even comes down to simple things like, 'If they get a home run, you buy dinner'. Its a basic human enjoyment, and needs to be approached carefully. Dobashi says that when betting starts to have a negative social impact, then its wrong, but there are actually a lot of legalised public gambling establishments operating in Japan, which is no different from other forms of gambling really. Kaoru suggests that in a similar sense, a kind of Baseball public lottery could be set up, to avoid any behind the scenes betting or gambling.

Kaoru finishes by saying that despite reading out this email, he won't be sending out a sticker, which Joe thinks is a bit sadistic. He then reminds listeners about the new jingle appeal, and briefly plugs his blog, dvd, single, and tour.

Songs - Dir en grey/304 goushitsu, hakushi no sakura, Skid Row/Wasted Time.

[amarantine-amirite]

Out of Words, Out of Songs, Out of Ideas

I got a real surprise today when I got the recording studio at my school.

No lie, when I first saw it, I actually said, "What the fuck?!" I was just lucky that there weren't any teachers around, otherwise I would've heard, "Language, Camille" and have to drop 25 cents in the swear jar.

I shouldn't have worried about a teacher overhearing me. I should've been worried about Zoe overhearing me.

I never got along with Zoe. Zoe is one of those people who refuses to take responsibility, gives pathetic excuses, and either ignores consequences or downplays them. Worse, she talks down to you like you're stupid. "Noticed the piano, huh?" she said.

I nodded quickly. "Why the hell are all the keys the same color?"

Zoe did the thing where she talked down to me like I was stupid. "The school district was worried that people would think the regular piano keys are racist, so they painted them to match the wood casing."

I couldn't believe what she said. In the name of racial harmony, they painted all the keys of the piano the same color. If it didn't actually happen, I would have thought it was a joke.

I should never put it past the school to do something like this. I remember we had twins in my fourth-grade class named Benjamin and Daniel. They went by Ben and Dan. We also had a Chinese kid in our class (James) that had a learning disability. Alphabetically, he came right before Ben and Dan.

I didn't play with Ben, Dan, or James that often. I only really remember their names because of this one thing that happened.

One day, when the teacher was taking attendance, he called James's name, but James didn't hear him. Frustratedly, he moved on to the next two people, Ben and Dan. He said, "Ben, Dan"

"Ben, Dan" sounds like the Chinese phrase for "idiot". When James heard the teacher say this, he ran out of the classroom in tears.

They had to put Ben and Dan in separate classes over this. I don't know what happened to them after that. All I do know is that people are far more willing to bend over backward to avoid stepping on toes than you think. "Do they not have a little voice in their head that says this might be a bad idea?" I squealed.

Zoe shook her head. "I understand that you're upset. I get that. Things are a little messy right now. But sometimes, things have to look a little worse before they look amazing," she said in her trademark condescending tone.

I need my visual signposts. Making all the keys on the piano the same color just takes them away. And I'm far from the only person that thinks that. The reason pianos have different colored keys so the person playing them can tell the difference between the natural and semitone pitches. "Zoe, this isn't a little messy;" I said way louder than I should have, "this piano is now unusable."

Dorothy walked in. "What's all the hubbub?" she asked.

I pointed to the piano. "The school thinks it can combat racism by painting the keys on the piano the same color." All they've managed to combat is the musician's ability to consistently play the right notes.

Dororthy looked at the piano. She looked at me. She looked at the piano again, and then she looked back at me. "You know, Camille" she said, "You can't come down from a high you were never on."

I nodded, even though I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Sometimes, people say something insightful. Other times, it sounds insightful, but it falls apart the minute you try and parse it. "You can't come down from a high you were never on" falls into the latter.

I guess it could mean that you could never come back to reality if you never left reality in the first place, but I'm not fully sure. The more I think about it, the more I realize that it's one of those phrases that sounds deep and meaningful, but when you really look at it, it's just painfully confusing. "I get that, Dorothy, but can you explain to me what that's supposed to mean?"

I think she tried to say, "for everything, there is a season. There is a time for everything, and now is not the time for that." Basically, she tried to respond to a thought terminating cliché with another thought terminating cliché. But try as she might, she just could not get the words out. She wound up saying, "For everything, there is a season, a season is time of growth"

That sentence made so little sense that I burst out laughing. "Excuse me, what? Care to explain what this is supposed to mean, because I think I just had an aneurysm trying to decipher this."

Dorothy repeated what she said. "Everything has seasoning, but if you special the time, it is a growth."

"You're not making any sense"

By now, she started to get frustrated. "I said, for every season, a season is time of growth."

"That made even less sense than before," I said. I wanted to say "I've listened to drunk people who were far more coherent than that," but kept it shut. And for good reason. When she tried to speak again, nothing came out. No sound. Radio silence.

All of a sudden, it hit me. She wasn't dodging the question or being evasive or anything like that. She was actually having a stroke!

It spooked me. One minute, somebody's brain works fine. The next, it just comes to a grinding halt.

It could have been much worse. Even though she couldn't talk, at least her face wasn't drooping. Now was still a good time to call an ambulance, as time wasted is brain wasted.

I called 911, and they put me on hold. The hold music was "Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees. In the time I was on hold, Dorothy downed an entire bottle of water and began frantically signing to anyone who was watching. This might sound weird, but I felt a huge wave of relief watching her sign. She signed with both arms, the ASL equivalent to speaking with both sides of your mouth. Zoe looked at her and said, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Helen Keller." Dorothy got all pissed off, gave Zoe the finger, and stormed off to that corner of the room with the bead curtains.

Once I finally got off hold, 911 put me through to this guy whose last job was probably working as a bellhop in a second-rate Torquay hotel. "Hello? Hello, 911. How are you today?"

"Uh," I responded, "my friend Dorothy is having a stroke, how do you think I am?"

He blinked in confusion hard enough that I could feel it on the other end of the phone. "¿Que?" he said.

Growing ever more frustrated, I repeated, "Dorothy is having a stroke!"

I thought he'd understand the second time. But no, he did not. "¿Que?" he said again after a long pause.

I grew frustrated. It was almost like he couldn't remember what his job was, let alone the nature of my emergency. "Dorothy. Stroke." I reiterated in an annoyed fashion.

"OK, I see," he replied. He seemed to finally understand what I had said. "You friend Dorothy having a stroke."

"Yes!" I said. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

Or so I thought. I couldn't believe the next words out of the guy's mouth. "We no have time for you wild goose chase"

"What?!" I said, completely taken aback.

"We no have time. We no believe you. Very, very sorry. Goodbye!"

I went behind the bead curtains and sat down across from Dorothy. "Well, that was a bust." I said.

"Why didn't you bring your guitar?" Dorothy signed.

"My amp still isn't working" I answered.

The amp broke in the first place because some moron plugged it into a car battery. If you plug a guitar amp into a car battery, it will explode. I took it to the repair shop to get it fixed. They said it was ready for pickup, but it was exactly the same as it was when I went to pick it up as it was when I brought it in.

"I thought you had it fixed."

"So did I." I showed Dorothy a picture of the amp before I took it in and after. She looked at it and laughed.

"So Dorothy," I asked, "what did you mean when you said you can't come down from a high you were never on?"

Dorothy nodded. Those were the last words she said before she had a stroke, and it seemed she couldn't hear them without crying. She steeled herself and signed, "It means that if you don't know what you're expecting, it doesn't make sense to get upset when your expectations aren't met."

Good, I thought, we're getting somewhere. That said, she still can't talk. "I might call 911 again" I said.

Dorothy nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

The good news was, I didn't wind up on hold. The bad news was, I wound up dealing with Manuel The 911 Operator again. "Hello, 911, how are you, is nice day"

"OK, no" I said, "Not nice day. Dorothy can't talk."

"¿Que?"

"Dorothy have stroke. Now, Dorothy no talk."

Not only did he recognize me from before, he still didn't believe me. "Oh, it's you," he said in a very annoyed tone, "We no believe you. How many times? Where are you ears, you great, big, halfwit?? We no have time, listen?"

For a brief moment, the line went dead. The operator picked up again. "Now you understand! So bye bye, please, bye bye." Nice. Then they hung up on me again.

I came here to record a song. Not only did that not get done, I had to fend off political correctness gone mad, deal with a 911 operator who knows nothing, and witness a close acquaintance lose her voice because part of her brain stopped working.

I can't believe I snuck out of geography class for this.

@leopard-prompts