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sagesskies · 10 months ago

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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴇᴏ

✒ ᴍᴏɴᴇʏ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴜʏ ʏᴏᴜ

✉ - ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴀɴᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜꜱ - ʜᴇʏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ! ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴄᴇᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀ ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴘ ʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇQᴜᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ? (ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ʀɴ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ/ɴɪɢʜᴛ ♥)

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀɪꜱʜ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀꜱ, ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛɪᴇꜱ, ᴍɪʟᴀɴ ɪꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴀᴛᴇ 30ꜱ), ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅɪꜱᴏʀᴅᴇʀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ɪɴꜱᴏᴍɴɪᴀ (ᴍɪʟᴀɴ), ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ᴜɴʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ (ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ), ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ɴᴇɢʟᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟꜱᴇ!

Yandere CEO who first met you at your job in your friend's family bakery. Young, bright, and full of life, wearing a baby blue apron. You eagerly greeted him with a smile, and asked how he was doing. There was nothing forced about your mannerisms, it was all genuinely, purely, you.

Yandere CEO, despite knowing it'll all end up flushed down a toilet, comes in everyday ordering the different pastries you recommend. After his seventh visit, you jokingly ask him if he's got any cavities yet and he blushes. Not that you notice.

Yandere CEO who gathers the courage to talk to you beyond simple good mornings, and responding to your questions of: “How are you Milan?” or “So that'll it be for today, eh?” and stammers out things like, “N- Nice weather today, huh?” and even, “Uh.. How- How long have you been working here for?” It's all simple, nearly no substance, but it's exceptional progress for somebody like him who barely even speaks to his secretaries beyond plain Yes's and No's.

Yandere CEO whose fair face turns a furious red whenever you tease or compliment him, calling him things like adorable and cute. Never has he been called anything like that before. People see him, with his bodybuilder-esque physique and stoic face, with it's fierce features, and are too intimidated to treat him with anything other than with a respect that is borne out of fear.

Yandere CEO who knows this is wrong. He's 38 years old, and you're only what? 23? This is wrong, this is taboo, this is predatory. But his heart can't help but beat furiously for you each time he steps inside the quaint little bakery. Your bright smile, your gentle eyes, your warm voice. You are like the sun, and he is your ever-devoted Icarus, who will crash and burn if he tries to even fly an inch closer.

Yandere CEO who is unable to sleep at night. He's used to this, he's had insomnia since he was a teenager in highschool, but never like this before. Where previously it was paranoia and anxieties that kept sleep at bay now it was you, the scent of pastries and bread, and your warmth.

Yandere CEO who unconsciously starts to act like a teenage girl. Doodling your name in the margins of his paperwork, writing (Name) x Milan over and over again in the empty pages of his journal, which was previously used exclusively for tracking his expenses but was now being used for more personal entries.

July 17, 2009

Today [Name] remembered it was my birthday, and bought me a slice of chocolate cake using his own money. I tried to keep it down, but unfortunately my body is too used to emptying its stomach whenever I eat too much.

September 7, 2009

[Name] asked me if I've been sleeping well recently, and even if I told him I was okay, he still gave me a box of teabags. He told me it helps him sleep at night, and hopes it'll be able to help me too. He's so kind, and too good to me. I can never tell him it's him who's the cause behind these sleepless nights. I think it'll devastate him. Sometimes, I hope it will.

February 13, 2010

[Name] asked me if I was going to buy somebody any pastries for Valentine's Day, and if there's anybody I'm hoping to receive any chocolates from. I wanted to tell him I hoped to receive chocolates from him, but that would be inappropriate. Then he told me he hoped his girlfriend would remember to give him some.

[Name] has a girlfriend.

Yandere CEO who doesn't show up for multiple days after you reveal this to him. He goes back to old habits, the following days occupied by work, work, and work. He sleeps rarely, and wakes up late. He eats even less than he usually does, and forgets to go to the gym.

The only thing that Yandere CEO does outside of that? Pay private investigators to learn as much as possible about you, no matter how dirty or well kept the secret is he will know.

It's unethical, a violation of all your rights, but he thought you two were close. That you were friends. A kind of relationship he barely even knew. All he knows is distant families, cold business partners, and shallow imitations of friendship. He thought you were different, you were so real, but if he didn't even know you had a girlfriend, then what else was he unaware of?

Yandere CEO whose father calls him, and tells him his secretaries have told him about how he's been acting, and advises him to take a break. Perhaps he should try to hit the dating scene? He'll have to get married eventually, and he's not getting any younger.

Yandere CEO who goes to the blind dates his mother arranges for him. Daughters of her friends, sometimes even granddaughters. Women who are sometimes a decade younger than him. Women who are his age. He never told his parents he was gay, and now he has to suffer through this.

Yandere CEO who is thinking of canceling the date on the spot when she takes him to a familiar bakery, the familiar bell rings as the door swings open and you're still there, wearing your baby blue apron, and the polite smile you flashed his date immediately widens when you see him.

Yandere CEO who freezes up, and then stammers out a greeting, face flushed. His date, who has so far only experienced the cold and stoic front he puts on, is surprised that what has broken down the stone walls he's put up is the cute, young, male baker, who has a bright grin on his face.

“Milan!” You practically chirp, “It's been so long, where have you been man?”

You were wondering where he was? You missed him? You missed him? Milan? He couldn't believe his ears, he felt like he could faint.

Milan clears his throat, averting his grey eyes away from you, and avoiding Carrie's burning gaze.

“I have been preoccupied with work,” He explains, it's not a lie, he's just exaggerating how much work there was for him when it was basically just him doing paperwork and attending meetings every once in a while, “I apologize if my absence has bothered you…”

You chuckle, “I'm just glad to see you again.” Milan can't help the small smile that forms on his face, but he restrains it from widening into a grin. He's in front of Carrie, a friend but at the same time a business partner, a marriage prospect, an unwelcome intruder into what could've been a moment between you two.

You glance at Carrie as if remembering that she was here, “Ah, sorry, you must've been confused on how I know him, but I'm a friend of Milan,” You smile kindly at her, “Name's [Name] [L/N], nice to meet you!”

Carrie forces a polite smile on her face, “A pleasure,” Her eyes are filled with a cold fury, though Milan knows it's not directed to you, “My name is Carolyn, Carolyn Deveuraux. However, you may call me Carrie.”

Milan fakes a cough, “Mhm, anyways.. I'd like to have the usual… and Carrie you'll have..?”

She hums, “I'll have a cinnabon.”

You glance between the two, noticing the obvious tension between them, “Oookay, I'll have that prepared for you two in a jiffy,” Milan hands you his card, and savors the slight brush of your fingers, before your warmth is teared away and you slide it back to him when you're done.

He glares at Carrie for scaring you away, but she doesn't even look at him, her eyes are fixed on you. Milan wants to gouge her eyes out, she doesn't even deserve to look at you. Not when she barely knows you. Not like him, who knows every single thing about you that his money can buy for him.

You head into the back to prepare the goods, and Carrie goes back outside where there are tables and chairs. She sits on one, and crosses her arms. Milan settles on the one across from her, posture straight, arms on the table, eyes… decidedly not looking at Carrie.

“So, you and that man… [Name], was it?” Milan nods, she continues, “You know each other, do you?” She taps one carefully manicured nail against the arm of the chair. Tap, tap, tap.

Milan does not simply know [Name], he practically lives underneath the younger man's skin, but instead of verbalizing this he nods once more, “We have known each other for two years.”

“Hm,” Her eyes narrow, they are blue, like ice, “ And how old is [Name]?”

“Twenty-four years old,” Milan tells her, “He had just gotten out of college when we first met.” His eyes trail to the window into the bakery, you still haven't emerged. Why were you taking so long?

“Does he know?” Carrie’s tone is sharp and frigid. Milan glances at her, if he is not careful then he could be caught up in an inescapable storm.

“He does not,” Milan admits, “And I'd prefer to keep it that way.” You still have your girlfriend, and he's content with your secrets and the stolen pictures.

Carrie glares at him, “Why him? Is it his mind? His personality? Or is he simply a pretty boy you like to ogle at?” She's angry, and Milan, for his lack of proper socialization, has been taught to read people, every single shift in expression or body language has a hidden meaning, can tell this fury stems from something personal.

“That is none of your business,” Milan had known Carrie for a while now, since his 30th birthday party where his father invited all his associates, and Lewis Deveuraux had brought his 28 year old daughter Carolyn, but they were never friends so much as allies in the cutthroat world of capitalism, and she was crossing a line.

“I can tell your father.”

“Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘Snitches get stitches’, Carolyn?” Milan asks, “You tell him, and I'll be doing so much more than giving you stitches.”

Carrie doesn't even flinch, “Not much you can do when stripped of your position at your father's company,” She doesn't get a chance to continue, not when you arrive with a tray carrying the warm pastries. You set the plates down, as well as the complementary coffee.

“Here you go…” You glance between the two of them, “It's been nice seeing you again Milan,” You smile at Carrie, “Great to meet you too, Carrie, hope to see you around some more.”

Milan digs a nail into the skin of his palm hard enough to draw blood, if only to stop himself from punching that smirk on Carrie's face off, “Thank you, [Name],” Her voice is pleasant, light and airy, “It was a pleasure to meet a… friend of Milan today.”

“Same here,” You grin. You wave goodbye to the both of them, then head back into the bakery.

Carrie's polite smile is gone as soon as you're out of the vicinity, “Let's talk about this later,” She reaches out and places a well-manicured hand on top of Milan's larger one, and her lips curl up, “For now, enjoy the treats your little crush has made for us.”

Yandere CEO, who since that reunion has started coming back more often. Happy to finally be able to bask in your presence again, thoughts of your girlfriend are dashed from his mind when he saw your smile again after two months of being deprived of it.

The only downside? Carrie is there as well. Chatting you up, using her charm to lower your guard down. She's a snake, or a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yandere CEO knows she's trying to break you two apart, but he won't let her.

Yandere CEO who can't stand watching you smile at her, keeping up with her bright mind in ways he knew you could but had never seen before. He didn't know it was possible, but he's become even more enraptured. Handsome with not only a good personality, but also intelligent. God, you were perfect.

Yandere CEO is able to himself with an endurance he didn't even know he possessed. He's not used to the rage that has been gathering inside him, but it's not that similar to managing his fear and paranoia. He can't do anything to Carrie, not when you two have practically become the best of friends.

Yandere CEO who decides that he can't let himself fall behind, he was here first you know. He's known you for two years while Carrie was only for a few weeks. He musters up the confidence he often uses in meeting rooms, trying to look suave and cool, but instead making you laugh.

“Haha… you're seriously so adorable Milan,” You tease, “What're you acting so serious for?”

After that, Yandere CEO decides to just act how he did before, it's clearly more effective as you've even invited him to eat with you in the park near the bakery during your lunch hours. Something you haven't done in the two whole years you've known each other.

He realizes that in a sense, you are like him. Despite his stoicness, and your expressive features, his assertive aura, with your laid back vibe, both of you have an appreciation for genuine people. It makes his heart beat faster, for some inexplicable reason.

Yandere CEO who listens to you attentively as you start opening up to him more about your life. Your struggles with paying off college debt, your inability to land a higher paying job, and how you don't have enough money to pay for your rent. He already knows about all of this, but is happy nonetheless to be able to give you a comforting hug or pat on the back. One time, you actually cried and he got to feel the warmth of your tears as they raced down your face, they soaked into the skin of his palm as he wiped them away and offered you words of comfort.

Yandere CEO who abides by the law of equivalent exchange, and opens up to you more as well. He's heard before that the more imperfect you make yourself out to be, the more attractive you were for it was a sign of humanity. So what's more human than sharing his past as a bullied fat kid, and the whiplash he got once he had bulked up and attracted admirers like they were flies? Maybe it's the insomnia, the social anxiety, and the knowledge that he's surrounded by shallow people. Whatever it is, it works.

Yandere CEO who has started to feel genuinely close to you. Where before, it was akin to a celebrity having to deal with an awkward yet starstruck fan, now it felt like you two were old friends having a good time together. This is the first time he's had a relationship like this and he'd rather have his company go bankrupt and end up homeless on the streets than lose it.

September 12, 2010

[Name] is not meant for me, he is young, full of potential, and with a girl that he loves. But he tempts me with his warm eyes, beautiful smile, and those kind words of his that has had me wrapped around his finger since the very first day I met him.

It is wrong, it is dirty. I am too old, too broken, worn out like a hand me down toy. However I cannot help myself. He is like the sun, bright and comforting, yet he burns me so.

[Name]

Even just writing his name has me weak at the knees, it makes me feel alive. Like I can face the day without wanting to retreat back to my bed and refusing to get out till I am dragged by my feet. Just the idea of being able to catch a glimpse at him, gives me the energy to get up and do a marathon.

[Name] is too charming for his own good. He’s such a sweet boy, not knowing how much he tempts me to do such despicable things every single time I see him talking to customers or laughing with Carrie. He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know.

I should be leaving him alone, and never speaking to him again. He is fine, he is perfect, he is like God. But I am nothing but a filthy sinner who shouldn’t even be within his sights. Better kept away, far far away. But I want nothing more than to touch him, to hold his feet in my filthy hands and press my cold lips to it. His foot alone is worth more than my entire career. His life? Priceless.

However if I were to distance myself from him again, I’d become a shell. No better than a living corpse. My father and mother would be concerned for the business, and they’d keep on trying to figure out why I’m in such a state, till they eventually trace it all back to [Name], and I can’t have that. I don’t want them knowing about him. It is bad enough Carrie knows. But my own parents?

I cannot accept that. I will not share him. They would take him away from me like they took away everything else good that could’ve happened to me by being my parents and birthing into the life that I’ve led. His warmth would be engulfed in their cold gazes and harsh words, and soon he would be no better than I am, and that cannot happen.

He may not be meant for me, but I will make sure nobody else can have him.

Even that girlfriend of his.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: ᴍʀ. ꜱᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

#yandere male #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagines #male yandere #male reader #x reader #yandere #yandere male x reader #Milan Balter #sorry i've been dead guys :)#school's been hectic #ya boy had to do a some public speaking (T_T)#anyways this was very fun #he's so pathetic #i love him

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auroralwriting · 4 months ago

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Corporate heir!Bucky and childhood best friend!reader waking up in an unfamiliar hotel room (after a crazy night) to a bunch of congratulatory messages about their Vegas wedding that they don’t remember having happened at all

vegas lights

corporate heir!bucky barnes x reader

what the hell happened in vegas last night?

warnings: hangover, overall fluff and humor

it’s a little shorter than i normally write but i love it 🫶

The sound of the annoying ping of your phone was the first thing you heard when you woke up, and it was probably what woke you up in the first place. You didn't dare touch your phone yet. The room was still dark and you knew the light of your phone would kill your eyes.

It took a moment before it hit you, there was someone breathing next to you. No, not breathing, but sleeping. A quick glance and you saw it was Bucky.

Now, this wasn't super uncommon. Bucky and you had slept in the same bed before. Nothing sexual or weird, it just happened that during movie nights you both fell asleep. Totally normal for two best friends.

It took you another moment to realize you were just in a bra and underwear, which is when you freaked out.

"Oh my God, Bucky!" You cried, pushing him in the arm lightly. That motion was enough to make him jolt awake, clutching his head as he squinted.

"Jesus, what fuckin' time is it?" He groaned as he slowly sat up. It took him just about as long as you to realize he was almost naked. "And where the fuck are my clothes? Where are your clothes?"

You quickly pulled the sheet up and over your chest as you scooted back against the headboard. You hadn't even noticed your killer headache, causing your eyes to squint as you had to adjust to the pounding in your head.

"I don't know," You responded. "We got drunk."

"Yeah," Bucky chuckled bitterly, upset by his lack of memory and ache in his head. "No shit."

Bucky was quick to stand up, regretting the pace as he groaned. He groggily made his way around the room, picking up scrap pieces of clothing you both had left behind. He tossed you your shirt as he put on his own. "I think the pants are still in the covers." That didn't matter as much now that you both had on shirts. You were thankful for any clothing.

Your hand searched over the nightstand to search for anything you could take. Thankfully, your drunk self had left some pills for the morning. You passed a few over to Bucky who took them instantly, followed by you. He laid back down on the bed with a soft grunt. "I haven't been this hungover since I was freshly twenty-one."

"I think I remember that night," Bucky chuckled. "You threw up all over Sam."

You cringed at the memory, replaying it in your head. You had way too many shots, and they all ended up on Sam. It might have been the worst night of your life. "Don't remind me."

"You remember anything from last night?" Bucky changed the topic. He rubbed his forehead as his eyes furrowed, deep in thought. "I can't even remember where the fuck we are."

You thought on his words for a moment. Where were you? A few memories came back as you thought. You were celebrating, you'd been bar hopping in Vegas.

"Vegas," You replied, pursing your lips. "We were celebrating, uhm.."

"Dad said I was gonna run the company starting September." Bucky responded with a small nod. "We went out to celebrate that." Bucky smiled softly, remembering how excited he was.

Yeah, that was. right. Yesterday, Bucky's dad gave him the call he'd been waiting for since he was sixteen. After nearly double the time in waiting, Bucky was finally becoming the CEO of his father's company. He was ready to retire before the next big season. Bucky was beyond excited, and he suggested you all should go bar hopping to celebrate. Wait, all?

"Who else was with us?" You asked as Bucky searched the floor for any clothing. He threw you one of his long shirts and took one for himself. You quickly slid it on, now allowing the sheet to cover the remaining bare part of your legs.

"I think it was just the group," Bucky replied. He'd invited all your guys' friends to go, too. Where did they go?

It seemed like Bucky had the same question. He was brave enough to reach for his phone and turn it on. After a few moments, his reaction was not what you expected it to be.

"Why are they congratulating both of us?" Bucky murmured as you grabbed your phone.

You opened your messages app to see a load of messages from all your friends.

iMessage: 25+ unread messages

Natasha: Congrats you two, live it up 🎉

Steve: Have a great time tonight you two ;)

Tony: WHY DID I MISS THIS?! congrats tho

Sam: Don't get too wild tonight you freaks 🥵

Wanda: AJFAOGWEGJ !!!!!!!!

"What are they talking about?" You asked as you scrolled through the countless messages.

Bucky turned to you, clicking off his phone. "Let's piece it all together. We got to the bars, started drinking..."

"Okay, yes," You nodded, setting your phone down. "We went to Tito's, Smiley Ray's, Tavern T, and," You hesitated.

"Corkscrew!" Bucky clapped his hands loudly, making both of you cringe. "Okay, so we got to the last one. We were probably super drunk by then. What happened after?"

You felt your memorize return in a haze, a faded mesh of colors that seemed endless. You remember Bucky's hands all over you, not sexually, but in new, unexplored places for just two best friends.

That's when it hit you. You should've felt it sooner, but you were so hungover that it didn't properly register in your brain.

The ring that sat on your ring finger was dainty, small, just the way you liked it. It felt heavy, cool, and you could tell it was real. You held your hand out for Bucky to see.

"Hey, that's a pretty ring." Bucky casually mentioned. A moment later, his eyes almost popped out of his head. "Holy fuck, we got married!"

"No, no, I remember now," You began. "They were all making comments about how perfect we would be together, and-and we just ran with it!"

Bucky rubbed his face, "I must've picked that up on the way to wherever we got married."

"And Vegas marriages are very real," You sighed. "God, what are we going to do?"

"I mean," Bucky paused, shrugging as he grabbed your left hand, admiring the ring on your finger. "It's a pretty ring."

You felt your eyes nearly pop out of your head as he spoke. "Don't tell me you think we should stay married." The idea felt ridiculous. Sure, did you have a long-time crush on your childhood best friend? Yes. But did that mean getting drunkenly married was the way about it? Absolutely not.

"C'mon, doll. We aren't getting any younger. We're both successful people who both happen to be single." Bucky emphasized.

"Buck, I can't just marry you because of that. You don't even love me like that, we can't just be married because-"

Bucky cut you off in an instant. "Who ever said I don't love you like that?" You felt your heart stop at his words. It felt like the room that had previously been spinning from hangover suddenly paused. "Seriously, who said that?"

"You can't be serious," You half smiled, trying to convince yourself he was joking. "That's not a funny joke, Bucky."

"Doll, I'm not joking." Bucky said, inching closer to you. "I love you, and not like a best friend. I've been in love with you since the seventh grade."

You smiled lightly, "Try sixth grade."

With your words, he pushed himself closer to you. He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, holding it softly as he interlocked his lips with your own. It felt so delicate, so fragile, yet exploratory and hungry. His thumb caressed the back of your neck as you placed your hands on his cheeks.

"So, husband," You said as you pulled back. "Think we're gonna have a real wedding after this?"

Bucky chuckled as one hand moved to your waist, gently rubbing your hip. "Doll, I'm gonna give you a better wedding than you've ever dreamed of."

You hummed in contentment as you put your forehead against his, "I can't wait to marry you again."

#bucky barnes #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #bucky barnes imagines #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x you

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sondheim-girly · 2 days ago

Text

@outsidersweek submission for day six!! Here's the masterpost for this fic

September 1967

Marcia

Marcia had never been in an east side house before. It was very small, but for some reason she liked it. It felt lived in, whereas soc houses were so pristine they seemed as though they were only there for display. She sat Two-Bit on the worn down couch, and he grunted in pain as he tried to adjust himself into the most comfortable position.

“Will your parents be home soon?” Marcia asked, the weight of her situation starting to dawn on her. She wasn’t a doctor! How was she supposed to help him?

“My ma’s off with my sister, and well, that’s what we’ve been asking about my dad for the past 7 years, isn’t it?” Two-Bit joked,

“Are there any friends I can call?” Marcia asked anxiously,

“Why? Don’t wanna deal with me yourself?” He teased.

“I took a class on medical health with Cherry last year so I know some basics, but I’m not sure if I’m the most equipped for the job.”

Two-Bit grinned, “I’ve been busted up like this tons of times, I know what you need to do. I think my ribs are bruised, and there isn't much for that other than pain meds and icing it, and there are supplies in the bathroom to clean and bandage up cuts.”

“Alright! I uh…”

“Bathrooms there,” He said, pointing down the hall.

“Thanks,” she said awkwardly, before scurrying away.

Once she reached the bathroom, she closed the door behind her and took a moment. What the hell was she doing? Here she was, in an east side house, helping some greaser who she hardly even knew, to try and heal all the damage her friends caused. Trip would kill her if he knew what she was doing. Bev would- god she didn’t want to think about them right now. Cherry would be proud, Marcia realized. Cherry would know that this was the right thing to do. Even if Cherry probably hated her right now, as she should. Besides, it was much too late to turn back now.

Two-Bit

If someone had told Two-Bit Mathews that he’d be sitting in his living room, waiting for a soc girl- and not just any soc girl- but Marcia from the drive-in whose last name he didn’t even know, to come and patch him up after being jumped? He would have laughed in their face. Maybe he’d even have joked that it was ‘a nice fantasy.’ But while in all this pain, he struggled to believe that there was anything about this that could classify it as ‘nice’ or ‘a fantasy.”

But when Marcia walked back into the room with bandages, ice packs, and a wet cloth in hand, he decided there was definitely something fantastical about her. Because god he needed those ice packs more than anything.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a slightly forced grin.

“Here,” she said as she handed him ice packs to put on his chest. He pulled the remaining strap of his overalls off his shoulder, and peeled off his dirty tank top before pressing the ice to his bare chest. He looked up at Marcia, and golly her face was red. He smiled in spite of himself.

“You just gonna stand there?”

Marcias cheeks somehow turned even brighter, but she cleared her throat and said, “no. Can you scoot over?”

He shifted, and they managed to find a position so that she could use her cloth to try and clean up the bloody wound on his cheek. He studied her sick expression, and remembered that it had been her boyfriend who had given him that specific wound. She squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again she went to work, doing the best she could to wipe the blood away. God she was beautiful, he thought. He watched the way she bit her lip, and how her brow furrowed in concentration. And he realized how she was much more than just beautiful. She was brave. She’d abandoned all of her friends to help someone she hardly knew. He didn’t know many people who would do that.

He was still gazing up at her when her eyes dropped down to meet his, and suddenly Two-Bit wasn’t entirely sure if his heart had stopped, or if it was beating way too fast. Then her eyes flickered down to his lips and her hand was brushing his cheek and they were leaning into each other and Two-Bit could probably think up a million reasons about why this was the worst decision of his life but hell, he thought, he’d made a thousand bad decisions, so what was one more?

He was saved from that decision however, by the door crashing open. Marcia practically jumped five feet in the air to get away from him, and he glanced over to see who had entered. It was Steve, standing there with his jaw on the floor.

“Heya Steve,” Two-Bit greeted, wondering how his voice came out sounding so normal, his heartbeat still felt all messed up. He glanced over at Marcia, and she had the look of a deer caught in the headlights. She turned to him, her eyes terrified. She was trying to say something, but there weren’t any noises coming out of her mouth.

She finally managed a “bye!” Before pushing past Steve to get out the front door, and practically sprinting down the street to get back to the west side. He remembered then, that it didn’t matter what her friends did. It didn’t matter what he did. Marcia was gonna go running back into Trips arms every time.

#jean has thoughts #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #two bit mathews #marcia the outsiders #marbit #the outsiders #two bit × marcia

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castieldelamancha · 1 year ago

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Castiel stands still as Dean approaches him. He briefly eyes the light blue box he just left on the table, recognizing the logo of a bakery they drove by on their first day here.

He stands still as Dean stops in front of him, stretching the elastic band of the party hat in his hands in order to get it on Castiel, adjusting the hat on his head so it's slightly tilted to the side, on the opposite direction Castiel's head is tilted to in confusion.

Dean takes a short step back and Castiel briefly wonders when is and isn't right and acceptable to invade someone's personal space, but he doesn't say anything he simply watches Dean as he admires his work, his gaze focusing on the way his hands twitch slightly, how he lifts them as if to reach to touch Cas only to lower them down again, he does so a couple of times until he finally settles for adjusting Cas' tie and brushing off some non-existent dust off his shoulders.

"Happy birthday, Cas." He smiles brightly and Castiel, if that's even possible, feels even more confused than before.

"It's really not my birthday, I don't have one of those," Dean's face falls slightly at that, but the expression is gone almost as quick as it appeared in his features, not like he even understands why some logical reasoning would upset Dean.

Dean rolls his eyes, "I know that, but we humans have that one day where we celebrate a person, I thought you could have one too and I-" he trails away, now staring anywhere but at Castiel when before it seemed he couldn't look away from his eyes, "well I thought we could celebrate you on the day we met."

September 18th. Castiel remembers now. That's the day on the calendar today.

Sam, who had been watching the scene unfold up to that point from the motel room's table, with its wobbly legs and it's scratched wooden surface, turns his head away, probably trying to school his features because in Castiel's opinion, he made a quite strange face at Dean's statement.

Castiel doesn't see the point on telling Dean they met before this day, so he doesn't say anything at all, part of him not wishing to be the cause of another hurt look in Dean's eyes

"It's stupid, really, uhm." Dean is rambling, nervously, he is also blushing, lightly.

Castiel reaches out and awkwardly pats his shoulder, he smiles softly, the gesture still feels so unfamiliar to him, "thank you so much, Dean." They stare at each other for a while and Castiel, usually aware of everything around them, forgets about the Earth spinning slowly around the Sun, about the noise outside, the heat of billions of stars and the voices of his brothers and sisters echoing in the back of his mind. There is only Dean, and the easy smile on his lips that reaches his tired but bright green eyes, and the brilliance of that soul that still catches Castiel off of guard with its love and bravery.

Sam clears his throat, breaking the stillness of their shared moment, "have you bought a candle too or something? I mean not like we can get a cake big enough-"

"Pie." Dean interrupts.

Sam huffs lightly, "a pie big enough to get all the candles for Cas' age on it."

Dean laughs at that with a muttered, "you are too old buddy," that has Castiel nodding in agreement because he is, indeed, too old. Dean proceeds to take a little plastic package out of his pocket with a single blue and white candle inside, "I got everything we need."

And Castiel doesn't know it yet, but Dean also has a hastily wrapped present for him in that very same pocket of his jacket.

Castiel stands still as Dean approaches him. He knows well by now that glint in his eyes, his barely contained excitement and the playful smile on his lips. He doesn't even need to look at the party hat in his hands or notice the familiar smile of freshly baked pie coming from the kitchen to know Dean has planned something.

Castiel is a bit at a loss here, he knows it's not their anniversary yet, it isn't Dean's birthday either.

So he simply waits. He stands still, feeling a sense of deja vú as Dean stretches the elastic band of the hat to put it on Castiel's head, slightly crooked to the left. Dean doesn't step back, his eyes moving from the hat to Castiel and, with sure and steady hands testimony of how far they have come after all these years, his right hand closes over Castiel's jaw and the other settles on his lower back pulling him closer.

"We haven't really got the chance to celebrate your birthday since that time, all those years ago," he explains, a hint of guilt in his voice, " so, since the world isn't ending for once, I thought it would be nice to do it again."

September 18th, Castiel remembers now, that's the day on the calendar today.

"It's really not my birthday, I don't have one of those," Dean's face falls slightly, "but if I had one," he adds, trying to avoid upsetting Dean when this is clearly something important to him, and Castiel sees the appeal in this too, stop mourning and start celebrating, " I would love it to be today, the day we met again all those years ago.

The day that started it all.

September 18th.

He had never felt as alive as in that moment, with his wings manifesting with the power of a thunderstorm, a knife through his heart and the brightest soul he had ever had the honor of holding close right in front of him.

He had never felt as alive as he did fighting side by side with Dean, as he did in their shared laughter and sorrow.

As he does now, in their love.

They stare at each other and he gladly loses himself in the depths of Dean's gaze. He can't feel the Earth turning anymore, he can't hear the noise outside or feel the warmth of all the stars in the skies above, it has been a long time since he last heard another angel's voice echoing in the back of his mind. If he could still experience all those things they would be gone now, completely forgotten.

He crosses the short distance between them and presses his lips to Dean's, "thank you so much, my Dean." He then chuckles lightly, what makes Dean, that was leaning forwards, chasing his lips, stop and frown at him, "how many candles do I have to blow? I am concerned, see, my lungs aren't what they used to be anymore."

Dean laughs too, shaking his head lightly, "just the one, I actually managed to find the same one we used the first time around." He takes the candle, safe inside a plastic package, out of the front pocket of the flannel he is wearing and proudly shows it to Cas, and there it is, the single candle with its white and blue swirls.

"C'mon," Dean kisses Cas once more, stepping away from him and offering him his hand, "you actually can eat pie this time without tasting every molecule in it."

Castiel takes the offered hand and allows Dean to guide him to the kitchen.

#destiel #long post #september 18th #it's cas' birthday today bitchesssssssss #and i just got out of work and i am so tired i could pass out right now #ficlet #vanessa writes ✨#tuserpris

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starwarsmum · 2 months ago

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Day 4 of the Maribat BioFamily September event!! Taking a different route today with a BioDad Bruce Wayne look for the prompt: Child Support

@maribat-calendar-events

TW: death

Marinette stared at the smoldering wreckage of her childhood home. She had been over at Alya's for a sleepover when she got the phone call from the police, asking her to come to the station. She had agreed, nervously, and told Alya that there was no need to come with her. She had regretted that decision when her parents hadn't appeared to accompany her, and Officer Raincomprix was treating her so gently.

She had gone numb when he had explained that a fire had broken out during the early hours of the morning. It had spread out of control and the firefighters had been unsuccessful in pulling her parents out before they succumbed to the flames and smoke.

So she stood outside the ruins that had once been the most popular bakery in Paris, still unable to feel anything beyond disbelief. Which she would consider a lucky thing once her head cleared enough for her to breathe properly.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, we found a fireproof safe box in a wall of the bakery,” Officer Raincomprix said softly. “The contents are mostly legal - your birth certificate, the deeds to the property, their wills, and the signed copy of the insurance - but there's also a recipe book in here. We'll need to keep hold of everything for now, but I suspect it will all be yours once we determine the cause of the fire.”

“Thank you,” she whispered numbly, staring blankly through the man. She didn't listen fully and, eventually, a social worker stepped forward and took her in hand. She nodded along as they said something about a foster home and emergency provisions. She was grateful when she was put in the back of a car and she passed out from exhaustion.

_ _ _

Jason Todd was having a fairly ordinary day. He had woken up early for school and had a large breakfast. Even after three years of living with Bruce, he still worried about whether each meal would be followed by a long fast. He went to say goodbye to Bruce before heading to school, only to hear him speaking in hushed tones on the phone. Again, not an uncommon occurrence and Jason decided he would just try to find out what was going on later.

The day went a little off the rails when he returned from school to find a Pixie-like girl sitting at the kitchen counter. She had the dead-eyed look he had seen on many street kids, and he was immediately concerned. She was pretty, and elfin, and had clean cut hair, nice clothes and a pink bag strung over her shoulder.

All this to say, she didn't look like a street kid. But for the life of him, Jason couldn't work out what she was doing in Wayne Manor. And he didn't want to approach her and give her a scare, as he'd learned from the street kids he had encountered before his life with Bruce. So he went in search of either Bruce or Alfred to give him some answers.

“...tell you if I didn't know, Alfred! I barely remember traveling in Europe and Asia, it was a blur of training and drinking. But clearly I introduced myself to one of my…dalliances, because my name is on the birth certificate! And they did a DNA test,” Bruce said, sounding slightly dumbstruck. And maybe a little sick. Jason decided he should announce his presence before he heard anything else.

“So, I take it you owe a hell of a lot of child support back pay?” He quipped, pushing the office door open. Bruce flinched at the remark and Alfred looked unamused. “What? It's not like she can hear me, she's still sitting catatonic in the kitchen. But seriously, how did you not know you had a whole child somewhere? I didn't have you pegged as a deadbeat dad.”

“Jason, this is not the time,” Bruce said grumpily. Jason snorted but didn't say anything more, choosing to let Bruce fill him in in his own time. “Her name is Marinette, she was living in Paris with her mother who never told me I was her father. And then, sometime last week, her parents died in a tragic fire and they found her birth certificate in the safe.”

Jason whistled, long and low, glancing at Alfred to see what he thought of the situation. As usual, the butler was wearing an unreadable pokerface and Jason gave him a grin. They stood in contemplative silence before Alfred suggested they rejoin Marinette.

She was still sitting exactly where Jason had found her twenty minutes before, staring at the wall behind the oven as if it was the only thing to see. Now that Jason knew she had lost her parents, he felt insurmountable pity for her. His own mother was still lost in the wind, although he thought he was close to tracking her down, but he couldn't imagine her being gone.

He took a seat next to her, pulling his school bag up onto the counter. He figured he might as well get started on his homework while the adults figured out what to do with the girl. It was disconcerting, though, filling in worksheets while she sat there, unmoving.

“Miss Marinette, what can I make you for dinner?” Alfred asked at last, and she turned her glassy stare on him. He frowned minutely when she shrugged and tried again. “You haven't eaten since you arrived, miss Marinette, I must insist. I saw in your files that you have no known allergies, but I would prefer to make something you would enjoy.”

“Je ne veux rien,” she said at last, quietly. I don't want anything, Jason translated mentally, grateful that Bruce had been expanding his language set. She coughed slightly and Alfred immediately filled a glass of water, setting it in front of her. Hesitantly, she reached out and took a sip, which quickly turned into gulps. Jason wondered, distantly, how long she had gone without anything.

Eventually, Alfred began cooking, the smell of beef and onion filling the kitchen as he made her onion soup. When he finally set the dish in front of her, tears welled in her eyes and she began to shake. She didn't make a sound, but slowly and dutifully ate the soup. When she was done, Jason offered to take her to one of the rooms, which she accepted with another small nod.

“This room is next to mine,” he said, opening a door to a large room with an ensuite. She stepped in behind him, staring at the floor, and his heart squeezed. “I'm sorry,” he said gently, lifting a hand to place it awkwardly on her shoulder. But when she saw his arm move, she turned and threw her own arms around him, wailing into his chest.

He floundered momentarily before carefully running his hand down her back soothingly. They stayed like that for several minutes, until her shaking subsided and she began to pull away. She looked exhausted, her blue eyes bloodshot and puffed up.

“Listen, if you need anything, anything at all, come find me,” he said, speaking slowly to make sure she understood. She nodded before flopping onto the bed and closing her eyes. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, but she curled onto her side, facing away from him, and he took that as his cue to leave.

He was fairly sure that she was asleep before he closed the door.

#tw: death #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #maribat #maribat event #maribat biofam sept #maribat au #maribat biodad bruce #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #angst #death

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simp-for-fantasy · 5 months ago

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Ruins of the Past

Part 2 of He Loves Me Not

W/C - 1745

A/N- Hi everyone! Sorry this took so long to publish, I had a few things happening in my personal life. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to let me know your thoughts! Love you and drink some water today!

Theodores POV

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

September 27th 1994

It started out being just like any other night:

Mattheo chewed loudly in my ear, talking about his latest obsession while Pansy and Enzo argued about who the hottest quidditch player on the Slytherin team was. Draco was too busy brooding about his latest quarrel with Harry to pay attention to Blaizes rant on how Defence Against the Dark Arts was the same every year, and I sat and observed. It is times like these that make me chuckle. These were my friends since my first year. We have been through so much as a group yet we have not changed a bit. These people were my family. Nothing and nobody would ever change that. It is quite ironic that we are supposed to be the most heartless of the Slytherin House, yet, we are always there for each other.

Since it was already 3 weeks into the term, the new first years have begun to find their groups so there weren't many floaters. This also meant it was a lot louder. So, when the chatter came to a halt, the cause piqued my interest. I looked around to find the source when I spotted a girl who looked like she had slept in a forest. There were twigs in her hair, mud on her face, and her white nightgown. Blood sparkled on her face from a cut that could only be assumed was from a branch. Her feet were bare, trailing mud into the castle. She looked ghastly, her lips were blue and her eyes were sunken in.

"Who are you" Dumbledore's voice shot through the hall. Her small frame sways in response. She took a stabilizing step forward. Something was wrong with this girl, she looked half-dead. I get out of my seat to go up to her. As I come to the end of the Slytherin table the girl stutters another word; "Help." And she drops. My reflexes kick in and I rush over to her, catching her head before it hits the floor. What in Merlin's name is happening? Who was this girl? Why is she here? And why the hell did she leave wherever she came from without goddamn shoes on!?

First-Person POV

˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜˜

September 29th 1994

I wake up in an unfamiliar room. I sifted through my thoughts trying to remember what happened, but it was useless. My brain feels foggy like I'm in a dream and my limbs feel like weights. My eyes crack open to a large room filled with beds and curtains. White sheets cover my body and a tag is wrapped around my wrist. A hospital maybe? I try to sit up but it's no use. I really must have pushed myself. Voices start bleeding through the walls of the room. "We have to question her! The safety of this school could be in danger! Who knows who else she could have with her!" A deep voice says. "I agree however we have to gain her trust first. She won't tell us anything if she doesn't trust us." an older voice says. "Who says we give her an option? I can check to see if I have any veritaserum, and if not I will brew some!" "Severus, it is illegal!" What the hell is veritaserum and who is Severus?

Run, they will steal your magick.

Memories crash into my mind.

A castle. Hall. Doors. Candles. Black.

It burns in my mind. Like my head is being bashed with a rock. The pain is unbearable. I pull at my hair in an attempt to help the pain.

Run, they can't find out.

"You told me to come here! You said it would be safe! You said I would find answers!" I yell. God, what's happening? The voices from outside die out. They heard. My flight or fight kicks in. I rip the cords out of my arm and run to the window. Shit. I must have been on one of the top levels of the castle. I look behind me and see the door handle rattle. Okay, I've got this. Just don't look down. I close my eyes and take a deep breath in before stepping out of the window and placing my foot on the lip of the tower ledge. A shaky breath comes out as my hands grip the bricks poking out of the tower wall. Far out. Why am I doing this?

"Where is she?" I hear a lady with a thick accent say—shit shit shit. I fasten my pace as I climb down the castle. I survey the wall trying to find my next handhold. Finally finding one just below me and grab it, but it slips. It was all so quick. Suddenly the only thing holding me from a very long fall was a singular brick being strangled by my left hand. I try my hardest not to make noise to give away my whereabouts to the people searching the room. My Legs swing as they try to find grooves to stand on but it's no luck. Shit. This is how I'm gonna die.

Behind you.

"Oh my god can you just shut up for one second! you got me into this mess so please just shut up so I can get myself out!" I whisper to myself still attempting to be quiet.

Behind you!

"For fucks sake alright!" I turn behind me to see someone on a...broom? Flying? What the hell is this place? Oh shit, they're coming towards me! I sped up to move down the tower. "Hey! Hey! Wait!" Oh hell no. This is not happening. He grabs my hand before I can grab ahold of another hole in the wall. "What the hell! Are you trying to get me to fall?" I yell at the boy. Wait. I recognize him.

Candles. Hall. Boy. Green. Help. Wind.

The splitting pain comes back. My hold on the wall loosens and I fall. But the boy on the broom was quick. He grabs my hand and lifts me onto the broom with him. "Hold on." He says. I wrap my arms around his torso as he makes the broom fly faster. I close my eyes in an attempt to soothe the fears rushing through my mind.

Finally, we land at an open field with a lake nearby. I can now fully take in this boy. "You.. you were the one that caught me, weren't you?" He gives out a slight laugh."I think I should be asking the questions." He replies. I huff and cross my arms. He clears his throat before saying "So, first things first, who are you?" "I'm Y/N, and you are?" I question. "Theodore." There's a moment of silence before he pipes up again. "What are you doing here? I mean you made quite the entrance on Tuesday. Why were you in a nightgown? Why are you alone?"

"Woah, one thing at a time pretty boy," I say slightly overwhelmed by all the questions. "Sadly, I can't tell you half of the answers to those questions, so why don't you find some simpler ones that I might be able to answer?" Theodore looks at me with an annoyed expression. He huffs. "Fine. Why are you here? Especially now?" "See that's a difficult question. Ugh. it's complicated." "So make it uncomplicated." He pushes. God this boy truly is a pain in my arse.

The boy - Theodore - continues to push when a tall lady approaches. "Miss L/N, a word." She had the same accent as the lady outside of the hospital room. Shit. I look back at the boy whose face has turned into a cold and hard scowl. I nod my head and follow the woman to a gargoyle statue. "Sherbet Lemon." Random. Just as I was about to ask what we were doing the gargoyle started to rotate. A hidden staircase. Huh. Once the stairs come to a finish, a grand room with books and statues is revealed.

A heavy voice comes from the room. " Y/n L/n, I presume?" What the hell is going on? The woman gives me an expectant look. Right. "Uh, yes. What's going on?" The voice chuckles and an old man comes into view. "I feel like we should be asking you that. I mean that was quite an entrance!" I studied the man, there was something off about him. He had a corrupted aura. One that wasn't evil at first glance but deep down there was darkness. "Miss L/n?" I was too lost in my thoughts to realize I had been asked a question. "What was that, sorry?" He chuckles again. "I asked if you would like to explain your intentions?" My intentions? "I'm not sure I understand, sir. What intentions?" "Why you're here of course!"

You can't trust him. 'Well, what am I supposed to say then? He won't let me go if I don't give him an acceptable answer!' She, however, is trustworthy. 'She's not the one asking!'

"Um, I needed help." It was obvious that these people practiced some form of magick, maybe I can reveal a small part of the truth. The man responded. "That part seemed quite apparent, but, what did you need help with? You were obviously in a rush to get here, but why?" I don't need to reveal it all just yet. "I come from a small and old-fashioned village, and my mother always protected me from their views, but she um..." God, even though it happened a year ago, I never truly talked about it. "She died... a year ago, and uh when she passed, I couldn't control what she had taught me. The villagers found out which meant I wasn't safe anymore. She had told me about this place that her mother went to that honed her magick, so I searched and finally found it." The woman's gaze softened as she placed a calming hand on my shoulder. The old man sighs "I am very sorry for your loss. However I must ask, what magick are you talking about?" This part I had yet to figure out. I can't reveal too much as I am still unsure what magick they practice. I know this magick I possess is uncommon even in the dark world. I must be vague yet precise. " Things would react to my emotions. Things on the other side of the room would break, float, or change because of me."

"Right, well I think there is an evident solution. You would be enrolled in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

What!?

Taglist:

@helendeath

#matheo riddle #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #baby netflix #lorenzo berkshire x reader #harry potter universe #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy #lorenzo zurzolo #blaise zabini

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echoesoftheeldritch · 6 days ago

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Happy Halloween!

We recently got a 'Trick or Treat' ask, unfortunately I can not reply to it, but here is your treat random citizen,

A statement.

Tw for paranoia and death :)

NATHAN

Statement of Susan Frost, regarding a summer job. Original statement given September 5th, 2018. Audio recording by Nathan Beckett, Head Archivist of the [static] Institute, London.

NATHAN (STATEMENT)

Right, so I had this job. Lifeguard. I know, can you get any more stereotypical for a summer job? But it paid decently, and I thought hey, if I had to work all summer at least I'd get free access to the pool.

The training was fine. I mean, it was stressful but not anything out of the ordinary. We learned how to do CPR and how to get people out of the water safely, all the things you’d expect. The first week rolled around and all the lifeguards settled into the routine. Being a lifeguard is about 75% just staring at the water. The other 25% is not saving people, it's cleaning up the locker rooms or checking the chemicals or telling people they can't smoke on pool grounds. It's only 1% of the time you actually have to get into the water to help somebody.

So, yeah by the end of the first week any mystery or magic was gone.

At the start of the summer everyone wanted a ton of hours, myself included. We all quickly learned that the opening shift was a snooze fest. Closing shift wasn't much better. There were always two or three people who would drag their feet and pretend not to understand that we were closing.

Technically, we all worked for the city, but I was stationed out at East End Park. It was small and pretty far out there. We had enough people to keep it open, but every other pool in the city was more popular and better equipped than ours. Plus, we were an outdoor pool which meant it was a little too hot, or a little too cold, and if the stars weren't in the right position, the boiler would shut off overnight. The job sucked. Half the time you were sitting there absolutely baking in the sun because there wasn't a single bit of shade. The other half, you were practically frozen. I cannot count the number of times I opened the pool and had to fish some piece of trash out of the water. And that's not even getting into the bugs or the animals that would try to climb the fence.

It still wouldn't have been that bad of a job but, well...

It was the middle of June when things went off. I was on the opening shift, getting up at 5 AM so the retirees could be in the pool at six. There's technically two pools at East End; the lap pool, and the leisure pool. But the leisure pool wasn't opened until 10, maybe for budgeting or something, whatever the reason it meant that only two Lifeguards needed to be present before 9:45.

So, there I was, half-asleep, walking back and forth so I didn't start shivering when this woman came out of the locker rooms. There were maybe two other people in the water. Both of them regulars, and older, and I knew they could swim, so I started watching this new woman.

She wasn't exactly attractive. Even that early in the summer I'd seen plenty of people in swimming suits. It loses the lure fast. I remember she had a swimming cap, and goggles with tinted lenses. Her swimsuit was a black one-piece, more sporty than fashionable. She started doing laps, and she had pretty good form so I figured there wouldn't be any problems.

Then I saw her tattoo.

There were a pair of photorealistic eyes tattooed onto the back of her neck. I think maybe it was supposed to be a joke, or a play on words. I never actually got the chance to ask. I was working, and she was in the water. She was doing the breaststroke, head barely lifting enough to breathe, barely even causing a ripple in the water. And with every lap, every stroke, those eyes looked at me from the back of her neck.

I never saw her eyes. I don't know if she was actually part of it or if I just started noticing it after that. Maybe I just made it up after the fact, but... I don't know... It felt like there was a key in a lock, and after that it had been turned.

Like I said, most of lifeguarding is watching, and it's the watching that people expect. You don't talk to people; you don't have to be friendly. You need to be an authority figure. When I was guarding it was my pool, my zone, my swimmers.

I started taking extra shifts. I said I needed the money, and I did, but not that much, you know? Anyway, it was the middle of summer at that point. A ton of people took a week off in July and someone needed to cover for them. And there I was, willing to take any shift and always on time and never complained…

I knew the regulars by that point. The old women with flabby arms, who bobbed along during the water aerobics class. The old men with their receding hairlines who came and sat in the hot tub as if they were pretending to be Russian mafia.

There was one person, a young woman, maybe 13 or 14. Dark hair that had been buzzed short. She would always bounce around in the water, splashing like she was four years old and had just discovered bath toys. She wore this smile, and I could tell there wasn't a single thought behind her eyes.

There was a retired man, probably military. He had a white scar across one shoulder and onto his back. It took me a while to notice it. I noticed his bad form first. He'd show up in the mornings, dedicated to the routine, but that arm always swung wide, breaking the pattern.

Teenagers would show up sometimes. There was this pair of boys who showed up on one of our down days. We couldn't open the leisure pool because of a chemical imbalance, but they decided to swim anyway. They shared one lane and fooled around for a few minutes. One of them joked about pants-ing the other one. Then they tried to do a lap.

You can tell when someone doesn't know how to swim, or even if they do and just haven't done it in a while. I remember standing over those two and thinking that I was so much better than them. How I could see all the flaws in their strokes. How they kept needing to stop and push off the wall or the bottom if they were on the shallow end.

As a lifeguard it was my responsibility to watch them. They were the ones with the highest chance of drowning and there were only three other people in the pool. They would have gotten a fifth of my attention even if I hadn't singled them out.

Eventually I had a talk with my manager. I was bumping up against 35 hours a week and they wanted to warn me I couldn't go over 39 because I was a part timer, and they appreciated the hard work but what hours did I want to focus on, and didn't I want to enjoy my summer?

It felt like an attack, but I knew he could cut off my access to the pool, so I nodded along and agreed. And in the back of my mind I started thinking about ways to stay at the pool, when I wasn't on shift.

I was already working mornings, so I stuck around. I just didn't change out of my uniform. I walked around the deck, and looked at the water and did little things, like put away kick boards. It wasn't as good as actual guarding.

There was this corner, around one side of the building. You couldn't really see it from the office, so people sometimes went over there if they wanted to sneak a cigarette. It was a problem early in the summer. It stopped being a problem when I started standing there after my shift. I did nothing, I just stood there, in uniform, and looked out at the water. But that wasn't as good either. It was too far from the pool, and I couldn't see past the slide.

Then things changed again at the end of July. Our manager went on maternity leave and a manager from another pool took over. They were young and didn't know half the systems and the other half they knew from a different pool. Between that and the gaps in the schedule, I could get around them easier.

By that point I was showing up for the morning shift even when I wasn't scheduled. Then I'd rotate in halfway through the middle shift so someone else could get lunch and when the late shift came on, I'd clean until we needed to change the lane lines. Changing the lane lines was a lot easier with another person, but it always happened right when someone needed to rotate, so I stepped in and let the other person get back to their phone.

I had quiet conversations in ones and twos with the other guards. They all thought that I was dealing with something at home and that it was easier for me to be at the pool. Nothing serious, nothing that would get the cops or social services involved, just a fight with my parents or my sister constantly bringing her boyfriend over or my brother using the garage to practise with his band and causing a racket.

I don't have any siblings.

Then I figured out the swap system with the log-in machine.

We had this machine that we used to log in and out. It was old and clunky as hell. We each got a code and had to type it in when we got there and then again when we left. Giving out your code wasn't something anyone did because then they could pull pranks and log you out in the middle of your shift and no one would know until payday. But there were a bunch of manager codes, and one day our new junior manager left the manual out.

One code in particular, was for if you put in the wrong code. It reassigned logged hours to a different user. So I quietly let it be known that if I wasn't on the schedule, I'd take someone else's shift and then reassign it to them. It worked best for morning and middle shifts since the other lifeguard could put in their code without actually telling me, but a few lazy guys who normally pulled the evening shift flat out texted me their codes so I could swap with them.

Just like that I was working every shift, basically every day. I had to be careful. I had to work around the manager and still do all the other stuff like checking the chemicals and cleaning the changing rooms, but I got to watch the water. That was what mattered to me.

Looking back, I know it sounds like a lot. Working from 5am to 7pm basically 7 days a week. I shouldn’t have been able to keep that up, even as a teenager, and somebody should have definitely been fired. The Thing is, I needed it.

You’re probably thinking I was on drugs.. It might make sense if I was on something.

I wasn’t.

The guarding itself was my drug. It didn’t matter if there were 50 people in the pool or four. It didn’t matter if they were old or young, if they knew how to swim, or had to hang onto the sides. All that mattered was that I could watch them, all their imperfections and bad habits, the moles and bug bites and overlapping tan lines. Seeing them, cataloguing them, it was meat and drink to me. I still ate, I carried my water bottle everywhere, but that was part of the disguise. A way to keep everyone else content and not asking questions, stopping me from doing what I needed to do.

When I wasn’t guarding I was asleep, or on my way to or from the pool. That’s all there was. I know I must have talked to my parents, told them something, but I don’t have the faintest memory of it.

I think it would have kept going like that, at least until the end of the season, but I beat the odds before that happened.

That’s not quite the saying. The lifeguards used to say ‘we beat the odds’ when they went a full week with no one needing to be rescued. But that isn’t how I use it.

It was morning, and it was a cold one. It felt like fall. Mist or steam hovering a foot off the water. Streetlights casting hatch mark shadows through the chain-link fence.

My partner that morning was Doug Therman. He met my eye as we clocked in.

He asked to trade. I nodded; it wasn’t even a question for me.

What he meant was did I want to be the active guard for him doing the opening checklist. Regulations say you need to rotate guards out at least every half hour, preferably every 15 minutes if there are enough people. With our agreement I’d be out there on my own until nine when a manager showed up. The pool opened at 5:30.

So I headed out and Doug did whatever he was going to do. A pair of regulars showed up. They talked about how brisk it was and got down to it. I settled in. It was like I could breathe again. It felt like that every morning, like I wasn't really there until I had my guard tube in my hands, standing over the water.

The guy showed up maybe an hour later. Still early enough that it was cold. Early enough that only the really dedicated swimmers would come to the pool, and our normal crowd had already come and gone. I was watching empty water. It wasn't as satisfying as watching when somebody was in the pool, but I wasn't about to go into the garden room even if it was technically allowed.

This guy was average in a lot of ways, Middle-aged, going bald, slightly overweight. My eyes landed on him as soon as he came out of the locker room. He had a towel around his neck and was picking at the end, twisting the fibres. His eyes kept darting around, nervous little twitches like a rabbit that smelled a fox nearby. His eyes landed on me for a moment, before sliding away again. I was something he expected. Something in me was pleased with that. That he hadn't recognized what I was, the threat I posed.

He took his time getting into the water. First, he found a little cubby for his towel, hesitating over where exactly to put it down. He went through our small collection of kick boards that hadn't been damaged or stolen yet that summer. Eventually he picks one, glancing around as if someone would reprimand him for it. He eased into the lap pool slowly, one step at a time, the kickboard hugged against his chest, other hand white knuckled on the guardrail.

He settled a bit when he was finally in the water. The man took a breath, did some stretches, then with one last look around he kicked off the wall. He wasn't a great swimmer, but he wasn't the worst I'd seen either. Unlike some people he didn't push for speed right away. A part of me was content to watch, but there was something else… something about this guy, this stranger made me want to push.

Part of what they teach lifeguards is to change position every five minutes. If you've been sitting down, then stand up. If you are standing up, stroll back and forth.

Another thing they teach you is to close the distance between you and someone who is at high risk as long as it doesn't block you from part of your area.

I started to pace. It wasn't hard to walk at the same speed the guy was swimming. I matched him, one end of the pool to the other, eyes always on him. He didn't notice immediately, but when he did, it was obvious. He got twitchy, well, more twitchy. When he got to the end of his lap he fidgeted, adjusting his swim cap and obviously not looking at me while trying to see what I was doing.

On another day I would've played it off. I would've kept walking, broken the pattern between us. Maybe stretch out a bit or drink some water, something to make it seem like it was just a coincidence. But on that morning I kept watching, eyes fixed on him from behind dark sunglasses.

I needed to see what would happen next.

I was looking right at him when the heart attack started. I assume it was a heart attack. That's what the EMT said later. It felt like more than that, but I'm not the one who died.

He died, and I watched it happen. I saw him go pale, and shaking as it came up to touch his chest. I saw him clutch at the wall, knees giving out as he slid sideways into the water. I saw him try to stand up, coughing and sputtering. His eyes were fixed on me as he splashed about. He was only 5 feet from the stairs, but you can drown in any depth.

I just stood there and watched until the bubbles stopped coming. Then I strolled around the pool. Entering the water felt like a baptism. I pulled the body up onto the stairs and checked his pulse. I couldn't find one. Only then did I blow my whistle. I was floating, but there was still a part of me that knew there would be consequences.

Doug had been napping. He woke up quickly when he saw I was half in the water with an unconscious patron. To his credit, he did exactly what we had been trained to do, robbing the emergency phone off the wall and dialling 999 even as he stumbled over to me. I told him what CPR cycle I was on while he put on his gloves. Six minutes later EMTs arrived. They took over, but we all knew he wouldn’t be revived.

The pool was closed for the rest of the day, but for once I barely noticed.

There was a lot of talk after that. Rescue reports and assessments to make sure everyone had done their job. Doug never admitted that he had been napping, but somewhere in the middle of things, it came out that I had been working extra hours. Someone higher up decided it was fatigue and stress and I was let go so I could focus on myself for a while.

I told you before that I don't do drugs, but everything I've read suggests that those last weeks of the summer were just as bad as any withdrawal. The back of my neck ached, shooting pain into my temples. I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes I would get a glass of water, only to find myself staring into it minutes or hours later.

I tried to go back to the pool once. They wouldn’t let me in. The junior manager, who had let everything slip by him got all red in the face. I thought he was probably angry, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. There were other pools, of course, but I knew swimming wouldn’t make me feel right, and anyway, they were halfway across town.

My parents were concerned, but still busy, so it was decided that I would go to my aunt May’s for the final week before Labor Day. She lived three hours away, on 10 acres of land in a ranch-style house that had been built the previous century. The county would be good after my “trauma”. I didn’t protest. At that point I didn’t care.

I tried to put it behind me, but it was difficult.

Then, a week ago the summer retrospective went around. There’s always a bunch of pictures, and this time there was one of me. It was from the back, not obvious or anything, but I could tell, and there, half hidden by my hair was a tattoo. The outline of a pair of eyes, staring right at the camera.

I haven't checked the back of my neck. I don't want to know what I'll find.

NATHAN

Statement ends.

Ms Frost included a photo of the news document, and there does appear to be a pair of eyes tattooed to the back of her neck. The man, Henry Porter, did die in a leisure centre on July 18th, cause of death labelled a heart attack. We could not identify the women with the eye tattoos and any possible follow up on this statement has led to a dead end. There was just not enough information.

Recording ends.

Hope you enjoyed!

- Mod Nico

#trick or treat #echoes promote #the magnus archives #calling all #writers on tumblr #tw paranoia #tw death

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henriiiii-1001old · 1 year ago

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September of 1992, and Ode to Ruth Weaver

September of 1992, 17 years ago. We did a lot of stuff during that time.

The first thing I remember of that month was when we were promoted. The lights were blinding, and we were set to go up on that stage and show the entire county who we've become. Who we were supposed to become — responsible heads of the entire department of the whole county may I remind you — was what everyone expected, but deep down you and I both knew we'd just fuck around like we always did until we were given something to do.

Then, I got busy. So busy I could barely see you during the day. Everything just became so blurry at that time, hours running by so quickly I barely registered any time you came in to check on me. I was so drowned in case after case that I couldn't think straight anymore, couldn't think of you. I still feel so guilty for that.

The Heathcliff case still lingers in the back of my mind as I remember seeing the poor kid dead in his own room, the scars of fighting against monsters beyond his comprehension filling the air of that damned room. I almost wanted to cry seeing him, half of his face covered in his own blood and dead skin caused by the explosive collision of the bullet and his fucking head. Thinking about that makes me wanna throw up all over again.

And then came the Murrays, a family of which I had somewhat known before Lynn' death and Jude's disappearance. Adam seemed like such a good kid, and then he disappeared too. Thank god for the orphanage that took him in, because if they ever asked me to take care of him. He has no other family from what records showed.

That house... I can feel it still haunted by those damn things. I've tried to go back and brave myself through the layout again, but I can barely get a step through the front door without sprinting back to my car and crying. As soon as I open the door I keep seeing you there, your mangled body hung by a string, your eyes dull as they stare straight into mine. I know it's not really you, they removed your body ages ago. But I can't help but imagine you there, taunting me from beyond the grave.

I don't know how much longer I can take of this life without you. You were the one thing holding me up above the ground. You're the only reason I still continue to live other than spite towards the thing that lurks in the darkness of my own home. I can only hope you're still watching over me, my guardian angel.

I love you. You were my best friend, and I never could have done anything without you man...

I miss you. I miss you so much. I'm sorry.

#mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #station writeups #thatcher davis #ruth weaver #disturbing imagery #disturbing content #a2t #i do get sliiightly graphic in one part of it so plz tell me if i need to tag anything specific #i do wish this was longer but im running out of time to schedule this so just take this :')

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pixiemage · 4 months ago

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[An excerpt from a thus-unfinished Impdubs section of my MCYT Magebound AU]

(...) The first time Impulse saw him, he didn't really notice. Not the first time. It was only after the second time that he retroactively realized it wasn't their first meeting. (He sometimes regrets not realizing something was wrong at first...but he'd been a stranger then. Why would Impulse have known?) The first time Impulse saw him, he looked worn and exhausted. A man in a soft green cloak that had seen better days had appeared near him in the crowded market square, barely drawing Impulse's attention by the drowsy apology he'd stammered out when he'd bumped into a fruit stall and sent a few apples tumbling across he table. The woman running the stand had been a bit miffed but had seemed more concerned than anything, asking the man a passing question that Impulse didn't hear and that the man in the cloak didn't respond to. He'd clutched at the edge of the stall's table and took a long, slow breath, his eyes unfocussed and an odd sort of magic coming off of him, faint and barely tickling at the edge of Impulse's awareness. (Had he been a less practiced mage, or human rather than demon, he might not have noticed it for the witchcraft it was.) The man's cloak had shifted at his back and Impulse had barely taken note of feathers peeking through a worn hole near his elbow. A hybrid, maybe. An avian. Or a familiar, with the magic. But Impulse hadn't pondered it long because the man had dragged weary eyes in his direction, and Impulse had turned away so as not to be caught staring. And "What's...what's the date?" and "You've not been drinking, have you?" and "No, noooo, I've just been...travelling. For a long time. Very long time." and "Fifteenth of September." and a quiet curse and a "That's too early-" that Impulse barely caught before deciding to leave the odd scene behind. (The glow and pulse of magic behind him only ten minutes later caught his attention for half a breath, but when he turned there had been nothing there. So he'd moved on.) The second time Impulse saw him, he actually noticed and remembered. The second time, he'd been in a clearing in the woods between the Grimlands and Boatem, on his way back to the merchants' village he'd been working in temporarily with some of the other Hermits to sell wares and gain resources for Xisuma's sanctuary. He'd just settled down for a quick lunch when his hair had been sent on edge by an odd crackling of magic in the air. He'd gone still and squinted through the trees in search of what had caused in - and then something had fallen out of the sky with a strangled shout and the frantic fluttering of feathers. The guy's wings had barely caught him enough to slow his fall, letting him crumple to the grass with less of an impact that he would have otherwise. Green cloak, dark hair, and - once he opened them - wide, glassy eyes that looked like they hadn't seen a proper sleep in a long time. His wings were a ruffled mess, speckled brown feathers in disarray. He'd groaned and rolled over onto his side, only realizing Impulse was there once he stood from the grass to go make sure the stranger was okay. The man had squinted at him then, almost accusatory with the way he tried to force himself upright and puff up his wings. (With the way the guy couldn't seem to catch his breath or balance, it wasn't that intimidating of a display.) "Hey!" he'd blustered, looking minutely irate. "What're you doin' here? What'd you do to me?!" Impulse had blinked. "I'm...what?" He frowned. "I didn't do anything. You just - fell out of the sky." (...)

[ Hm...I wonder what that's about? :3 ]

#Impdubs #ImpulseSV #Bdoubleo100 #Bdubs #Trafficblr #Traffic Life SMP #Traffic SMP #Magebound AU #Pixiemage Writes #Witch and Familiar

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 3 months ago

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Teen And Up Rated Fics (2) Masterlist

part one

a glimmer of hope that was starin’ at me - @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) ot4 T, 7k

Summary: It’s difficult being in a relationship with three guys, and one of them hates you. On their one year anniversary, the four go to a cabin to celebrate. Luke knows that he has to make a decision soon. Things get messy, and then they’re okay again. Happy ending.

as the night gets older of you i grow fonder (ao3) - softirwin luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 9k

Summary: Luke’s eight when Ashton moves in next door.

(shamelessly half-based off the video for ‘you belong with me’)

between all the gasping, i finally breathe (ao3) - bellawritess michael/luke T, 8k

Summary: Sick probably more accurately describes how Luke is going to feel after four in the morning at the beach in the middle of September. If it were anyone else, that would deter him. In fact, that would be his excuse. Love to go, but I’m afraid I’ll catch cold.

But it’s not anyone else. It’s Michael. And the thing with Michael that Luke learned a long time ago is that you have to carve out moments with him and clench them in your fist or you’ll find yourself fading from his life.

Coffee (ao3) - coolbabyblue michael/luke T, 8k

Summary: Luke lives for being a barista, practicing his latte art in between college classes, studying everyone who orders anything in the small café like he were planning an essay on them all, trying to charm his way into the hearts of every customer.

When a red haired guy enters his workplace with his two parents looking rather gloomy, he makes it his own personal goal to make him feel alright.

Denouement (Love is Almost Always Accidental) (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/ashton T, 28k

Summary: It’s 9pm on Sunday night and Ashton is alone in his room, crying. Oh, and he’s in Paris. Tomorrow he starts his senior year of high school, something he had been looking forward to pretty much his entire life. But then his parents had to go and ruin it by sending Ashton to boarding school in Paris for his final year of high school.

Ashton’s parents send him to boarding school in Paris, where he is immediately charmed by Luke. Unfortunately, Luke has a boyfriend.

Falling All Over The Place (ao3) - makingdemands michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 21k

Summary: Michael gets a new phone and also a cat and he tries to get Ashton to pick him up but he texts the wrong number. Then maybe he keeps texting the wrong number. Nobody is punk rock and everyone’s sexualities are ambiguous.

for every question why (ao3) - caughtcal (marvelaf) calum/ashton T, 9k

Summary: When doing what he wants means sacrificing everything he knows, Calum has to find a way to deal with the changes.

I’d Marry You With Paper Rings (ao3) - FayeHunter luke/calum T, 4k

Summary: Calum seems to be on a mission to propose to Luke with as many things as he can. Luke just wants it to be real.

If I’m James Dean (ao3) - princessmikey michael/luke, calum/ashton T, 10k

Summary: Michael had been drawn to Luke since the first time he saw him. It was all the way back when they were in first grade, and shared the same recess. Michael hadn’t seen Luke running around the playground until half way through the year, but when he finally laid eyes on the small blonde he experienced this feeling he had never had before.

–

Or the one where Michael has a crush in Luke starting in first grade, but doesn’t share his feelings until a halloween party in college.

I’ll Wrap My Arms Around You Now (ao3) - nic_96 luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 13k

Summary: He remembers feeling the material against his bare stomach, he remembers taking his arm that had been wrapped around the duvet and ran it over his stomach. He felt [i]podgy[/i]. He wasn’t fat, Michael knew that, of course he did, he just, his stomach wasn’t flat or muscular, and when he was on his side like that with his knees tucked up it flabbed a bit and that shouldn’t have been a big deal cause you know, it’s just the position he’s lying in, but it was a big deal, it [i]bugged him[/i].

The one where Michael is very insecure about his body and stops letting Calum cuddle him but Calum like to cuddle, cuddling is very important to their relationship and Calum is cuddle deprived and frustrated and Luke knows too much and Ashton is adorable.

i love the way (ao3) - forforever (preciousthings) luke/calum T, 4k

Summary: four times calum didn’t do anything about luke wearing his clothes and one time he did

interlude (ao3) - galacticsugar michael/luke T, 36k

Summary: As Michael positions his camera to capture a photo of the venue marquee, it suddenly hits him that Luke isn’t just a name on the sign. His show is tonight. He’s probably here, right now, somewhere in the venue, or at least nearby, maybe hitting up one of the trendy downtown coffee shops or jogging around the lake.

“Michael?”

…or right behind him. His voice sounds the same.

It’s Such a Shame That We Play Strangers (ao3) - velvethood (orphan_account) michael/calum/ashton T, 14k

Summary: “Well, when my favourite customer disappears I’m going to be worried.” Ashton reiterates, hands Michael his drink and a plate full of three types of cake like he knew Michael was coming. “You have a lot of food to catch up on. I’ve been on the cake wagon lately, haven’t I Cal?”

This is the first time Ashton’s addressed Calum in front of him which isn’t surprising because they’ve never been in this situation before, but Michael’s unsure of what to do with himself. They haven’t even been introduced each other.

i wanna tell you so (how to hold my heart) (ao3) - babushcat (MerrytheCookie) michael/ashton T, 25k

Summary: this technically still counts as a coffee shop au

Let Me (ao3) - fffearless luke/ashton T, 3k

Summary: Ashton’s had a feeling about this weird spindly kid for a while now and he’s determined to find out what it is

(Ashton becomes Luke’s friend and tries to stop him hurting himself)

milk teeth (ao3) - prettyluke (parting_ways) michael/calum T, 9k

Summary: the four times Calum couldn’t admit it and the one time he did.

my heart radio is set to explode (ao3) - horriblekids luke/calum, michael/ashton T, 15k

Summary: Five times everyone thought Luke and Calum were dating and then one time where they actually are.

Luke puts up an ad for a roommate-slash-bandmate online and Calum’s the only one who responds. He turns out not to be a serial killer, though.

take my hand, now and forever (don’t ever let go) @sup3rbloom (haveufoundwhaturlookingfor) calum/ashton T, 9k

Summary: Ashton is a single parent who’s not had good luck with dating ever since his son was brought into his life. Then, he meets Calum, who’s the first guy who’s ever shown interest in him and his son.

Tech Support (ao3) - LyricalPary (hoseoky) luke/ashton T, 20k

Summary: “So… what’re you wearing, Luke?”

“Um… jeans?” he answers, sounding more than a little confused. “And a blue shirt with the Apple logo on it… it’s the uniform, so.”

Or, Ashton frequently calls tech support just to flirt with the charming voice on the other end.

the violent voices, loud and deafening (ao3) - lifewasradical michael/calum T, 3k

Summary: Michael knows he’s a chronic overthinker, thoughts always plaguing his mind even when he begs them to quiet down. He’s started categorizing his thoughts into different groups, depending on how loud the voices are screaming and what he can hear them saying. The thoughts spiral a lot, starting off as little seeds planted by his insecurities, blooming up into something big, terrifying, all encompassing.

Or, Michael can’t get out of his own head, but at least he has Calum.

this world’s an ugly place but you’re so beautiful (ao3) - 5_es_oh_es (YouMakeMyHeartCry) luke/ashton T, 14k

Summary: Going to this party was probably the stupidest thing Luke had ever done.

Or, Luke is bullied and nobody really likes him but he goes to a party and everything changes. Well, he almost gets beaten to death but at least he has friends now.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #masterlists #teenandup #teenandup masterlist

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littleoddwriter · 3 months ago

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Hey hru?

I was wondering if you could make a part two of Safe and Alive were like Roman and victor got Andrew a therapist but after on the 3rd session the therapist decided to go and a little drive with Andrew and they both sat in the front seat and Andrew like snapped and he had a knife on him that his dearest dad's gifted him that he stabbed the therapist with and when he Called his parents he was very calm and like telling the situation like it was a day at school and when Roman and victor got there he was like covered in blood while there was a bunch of blood all over the inside of the car due to how brutal it was

(sorry if it is too much gore and you can change it up if you want to)

Safe and Alive (Part 2) | ZsaszMask | KidFic

Hey there! I'm sorry it took me nearly 10 months to do this, gosh... thank you for your patience! <3 Also, um, what I assume was you, as well, sent me a request about Andrew before (in September); but my requests had been closed at that time. I kept it for a while because I thought I might write it anyway, but I decided to not do that now. Sorry! Just wanted to mention that, in case you were ever wondering about that one. Again, I'm sorry! Either way, I hope you enjoy this story. I decided to make it more or less just a glimpse into the aftermath, because this could have gone on forever, otherwise. And it already took me long enough to be able to write it at all, so let's not stretch that sort of luck, dhjkfjkgs Thank you for the request, take care! <3 summary; See above. notes; Kid Fic (OC - Andrew - is ZsaszMask's adopted son. He's 19 in this story.); Murder; Trauma; Trauma Response; Black-Out; Dissociation; Panic Attack; Hurt/Comfort. Part 1

Ko-Fi. Ao3.

His vision was partially red. He rubbed his eye, but that only seemed to make it worse. He blinked several times. His eyes watered, and he used the sunvisor and the small built-in mirror of it to look at what he’d caught in his eye. Frowning, he looked at the reflection of his face. It was covered in blood splatters, some of which had hit his left eye and caused his vision to partially blur and turn red. He blinked forcefully again, squeezing his eyes shut until it almost hurt, so they’d water again. They did. The blood, mixed with the moisture of his eyes, slipped out and down his cheek. His vision started to clear up a little.

Sitting in the small, unfamiliar car in the very familiar alleyway, Andrew reluctantly turned his head to the side to look at the driver’s seat. There, he saw the dead body of his therapist, Ms. Lang. He had thought that maybe they had had an accident, but as he looked more closely at her and the car, he noticed no signs of that. Instead, he saw at least a dozen stab wounds through the torn, bloodied clothes of his therapist.

And when his eyes wandered further, he noticed the knife between his feet. His dad gave it to him for his 16th birthday. For protection, he said. Usually, Andrew left it at home. But with the incident that almost cost him his life and did, indeed, claim the life of his attacker, Andrew realised that maybe his dad was right. A knife was multifunctional anyway, and so Andrew always had it in his pocket when he left the house. Something he rarely did since the incident a few weeks ago.

That still didn’t explain why his therapist was dead next to him. Andrew couldn’t remember anything that happened after they took a turn into the alleyway and parked there to confront his trauma.

Still unusually calm, Andrew removed his phone from his pocket and speed-dialled his dad’s number. The conversation was short, and almost robotic on his part, but he couldn’t recall any of it after he hung up the phone again. He just knew that the phone call happened, that he heard his parents’ voices, and that they must’ve been on their way to him now. That last part was only logic filling in the gaps for him.

Not knowing how much time passed and barely noticing it at all, Andrew heard a car coming to a screeching halt behind him, then car doors being slammed shut, and hurried footsteps moving in his direction and quickly coming closer.

The passenger door was ripped open and Andrew came face to face with his dad, Roman, whose expression was one of slight anger and mostly concern. His papa’s head popped into view, then, looking at the inside of the car, past Andrew, both with fascination and also concern.

“Why did you stab her to death?” Victor, his papa, asked curiously.

Andrew shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and looked back up at his parents with confusion, “I have no idea! I- I can’t remember anything. I just… I don’t know.”

His parents exchanged a look that Andrew couldn’t quite decipher at that moment. And then his dad reached out to him and helped him out of the car, speaking soothingly to him all the way over to his Rolls Royce, “We’ll get you home and cleaned up. Maybe you’ll remember more when you’re less shaken up, ‘kay?”

Andrew nodded weakly, his mind reeling as he desperately tried to remember what happened and why he would do such a thing to his therapist. She was always so kind to and patient with him. It didn’t make sense for him to feel threatened enough by her to kill her. Especially as brutally as it looked.

Back at home, and after a warm long bath, Andrew sat down with his parents.

Roman assured him that everything was taken care of. No one would be the wiser that it had been Andrew’s doing. Just like a few weeks ago when he killed his attacker. He was extremely lucky to have parents like them, it seemed. Or else he’d be rotting in prison now, wouldn’t he? That thought terrified him.

“I need you to close your eyes, Andy,” Victor told him gently, but firmly in his usual gravelly voice. So familiar and calming.

Andrew did as he was told, closing his eyes with a shaky little breath as his throat seemed to close up at the threatening darkness he was engulfed by that made him feel vulnerable.

“Can you think back to your appointment earlier? Why were you in that alleyway with your therapist?” his papa continued, then.

With furrowed brows, Andy tried to recall the therapy session. It was like trying to see fish through murky water. He could make out glimpses, but nothing too concrete.

“Take your time,” Roman whispered when it took Andrew a little while to say anything at all.

Eventually, Andrew decided to just voice those glimpses he could recall. Maybe if he talked about them, they would become clearer to him.

“Um… I remember Ricky dropping me off at the office. I went in and sat down with Ms. Lang… I was telling her about my week and how I was feeling…” he slowly recounted what he could make out from his blurred memories, “I think… I think she suggested a drive down to the alley. To confront what happened. Because… I was making progress. I think? And, uh… I can remember feeling nauseous. And hearing and feeling my own heartbeat the closer we got to the alleyway. I don’t think I told her, though. I wanted to push myself, maybe.”

He paused for a long moment, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed eyelids as he was analysing each glimpse he caught.

Andrew could feel his pulse quickening and his throat closing up again.

New pieces appeared before his inner eye. He could see the stabbing, hear her screams, and his own heavy breathing. He sounded angry and panicked to his own ears. Like a feral animal that felt threatened.

Shaking his head quickly, as though that would get rid of the memories, Andrew’s eyes snapped open. His breaths were short, quick, and strained. His body felt hot and cold at the same time, his hands were shaking and he felt like he was going to throw up.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” he choked out between laboured breaths.

His dad put a soothing hand on the back of his sweaty neck. It startled him for a moment, but calmed him down once he realised that it was just his dad.

“I’m sorry,” Andy whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.

Both of his parents told him it was okay as they hugged him. He knew that neither of them was exceptionally affectionate to anyone else, but they always tried their best with him. And he’d always appreciated it. Now more than ever.

Maybe he hadn't made as much progress as Ms. Lang had thought. And now he had to start over as he had another person's death on his conscience.

Andrew had no idea how his dads did it. Taking people's lives like it was just a hobby they enjoyed.

At times like this, he wished he could be more like them, though.

#tw murder #zsaszmask #zsaszmask au #kid fic #fanfic #jesse.writes

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altered-personas · 3 months ago

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Mirror of Another

[starter for @heroicmultiverse's Gwenom]

Sunday, September 22nd

Early Morning

Location Unknown

'Ugh, what... Where-'

It took her a moment for her mind to process... everything. It was all so much to take in. One minute she and Anat where kicking the asses of a gang of thieves trying to steal some experimental tech from ShidoCorp, the next... was a bit of a blur.

She remembered gun fire, an explosion, the migraine of a lifetime, and then... Nothing.

Perhaps she could've had an easier time coming to grips with this, if her "companion" hadn't decided to take her body out for a spin.

Bout time you woke up. You're missing all the fun.

What she saw was about what she'd expected, with Anat having dragged them into yet another fight on some rooftop against what looked to be... ninjas??

'... Anat? What's going on?? Where are we??'

Don't know, don't care. All I know is these guys are a lot more filling than the gutter trash we usually take on.

This was... also somewhat typical. Anat craved violence like an addict, and tended to refer to combat like food. It was still a bit hard to wrap her head around the idea that these were traits she'd also shared, albeit not as... extreme as her other.

'What do you mean you don't know?? You didn't take us here??'

Nope. Doubt I could if I wanted to. Cause this sure as shit ain't Tokyo.

Upon closer inspection, which was difficult considering they were very much still in combat, she could see what she meant. The buildings here were unfamiliar, different in both design and placement. Though, she wasn't that much of an expert on architecture, so she couldn't quite place just where they were.

'S-shouldn't we be trying to figure that out??'

Yeah yeah, in a minute "Mom."

Her scarf moved as if it had a mind of its own, snagging the arm of an enemy behind her, before slamming them down on top of the last one in front of her.

"Is this really all you've got!? We've barely even broken a sweat!!"

She cackled maniacally, to the point that even Makoto was unnerved by it. It reminded her of those horror movies Sae used to watch when they were kids.

... God, she hated those.

'C-Can we please focus on getting back home??'

Oh, relax. We have all day to look into that. Quit being such a wet blanket and let me enjoy myself for once-

'I- I am NOT a-'

And that's when they sensed it. They weren't alone on the roof anymore... Well, aside from the dozens of brutally injured ninjas.

... weird that she didn't even think twice about that sentence-

"Finally... The main course is here."

'Anat-! Let's not be hasty!'

"Screw that!! We've finally found some decent competition! I ain't stopping at the appetizers!!"

She tried with all her might to reign her in, to get control of her body back, but Anat was like a wild dog staring at a piece of meat, not letting anything stop her from getting her fill. She'd barely even gotten a look at the new arrival, yet she'd already decided what she was going to do.

"SAY YOUR PRAYERS!!"

She lunges towards the other, tendrils lashing out from her suit, with fisted poised to strike.

They were gonna fight, whether Makoto liked it or not.

#heroicmultiverse #symbiote reign - sovereign ic;#awakened avenger - complete control mv;#hi there! sorry this took so long #i rewrote this like... three times and even now im not entirely sure on it #if you're not down for a fight we can just have Gwen hold her back or something to give Makoto a chance to take control again #or whatever you'd think is best. im open to suggestions #either way very excited for this!! Gwen is a major inspiration for this version of Makoto #so it'll be very interesting to see how they interact #... after Anat chills out anyway

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kingocringeracc · 6 months ago

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Long time no see.

Synopsis, the first born child

September 23rd, 2046.

Kentucky

As I enter the home of the esteemed doctor Gerald S. Warner III, I'm suddenly greeted by the sense of hominess it has, but there isn't much life in his home as he leads me to his office, sits across from me, and offers me a drink, while pouring one for himself. We go over the superficial pleasantries of me thanking him for the chance to interview him, and I begin the interview.

“So you were on site for the original stirrings of the US outbreaks?”

“The eastern coast outbreaks, yes, I was a paramedic when the first cases started to pop up.”

“Can you tell me what it was like? How did you feel? Do you have anything you'd want to share about what happened to you personally during the initial cases?”

“If my memory provides!” he laughs before downing a shot, his eyes have no humor in them.

“The first time I encountered the infected, I'm sure you've heard them by many names, zombies, the plagued, the dead, Zeds, Zach, you'll hear the last one from the bucketheads a lot. Was the night of June 30th, 2024. We were in Yonkers, New York, just a bit west of Long Island. Our ambulance got called in for an investigation of a murder, a husband came home, and we thought he was extremely drunk at the time, it had to be right. I mean how the hell do you explain what happened there, without the knowledge of just what the hell was comin'.” Dr.Warner has a stony expression on his face, his eyebrows furrowed. He pours another shot and downs it.

“The rest of the details is that the husband came home drunk, and cannibalized his wife, I mean truly cannibalized, I remember it clear as day, or at least I remember what he had to pick up. I won't go into detail, but her face wasn't recognizable from pictures we saw lying around the house, and her body barely was either. The son, poor kid, was only fifteen, but he knew where his dad kept the gun, so he put a bullet in his pops’ brain. And then called 911. That's when we show up. “

“Do you by any chance know what happened to the kid?”

Dr.Warner looks at me but does not truly see, his eyes come into focus, and I'm almost able to see the horrors he saw during the 10 years of that era. He looks dead in the eye.

“...No…”

It's a lie, but I don't press.

“Please doctor, continue”

“My team picked up the bodies of the husband and wife, They're already bagged mind you, I don't know if the police had spare bags on them, or if another paramedic team got there first, and we just stole the bodies from them. christ, if we did, we certainly saved them that day.”

“We take the bodies to the morgue, in which there are 6 people there, 5 female, and 1 male. They begin dressing the bodies and examining them, ruling out causes of death, I'm in the back, taking a 15-minute break, a breather even, when I put on the usual things you'd need to even be considered to be allowed into a cadaver lab. My friend, Erik Woods, the only male staff member that night, was a cruel, cold, and calculating man, if I remember correctly he had Alexithymia, but I'm no neurological doctor, or a psychiatrist, but he was the perfect man for being a mortician, perfectly calculating, wasn't scared of anything, allows me to enter the cadaver lab and watch as he examines the bodies, he starts on the husband, he immediately notices a bite mark on his left shoulder, varicose veins emanate from the mark, seemingly trying to travel up to the brain. Moving onto the brain, from the hole produced from the husband's glock 19, using 9x19mm rounds, I and erik can see that the brain is rotted, Why? We had not a damn clue, not yet, the information on just what the hell this plague did to the human body wasn't out yet, and it wouldn't be out for about another year. But we rule the cause of death as a bullet to the skull, in simple terms. We move on to the wife next, uncover her. Our first observations are that half of her throat has been chewed, her right cheek chewed, stomach is barely kept together by a few strands of flesh. All symptoms from the bite mark on the husband's shoulder are the same, the varicose veins, all leading up to the skull. We continue our examination and rule the cause of death to blood loss. Erik turns around and degloves, and I do the same. But all of a sudden, the wife just rises up! Making this god-awful noise I hope no one ever needs to hear again. The mangled groan, capable of sending the toughest man you'd know back to his room for a change of underclothes. I turn to Erik, and he doesn't believe just what the hell he’s seeing, but the fear tells both of us to get the hell out of dodge. I get out quickly, but Erik's starstruck for a second too late. She reaches out and tears the flesh of his forearm. That wakes him up, Erik pushes her off him and we both get out of the lab, baring the doors, locking the doors, doing whatever we need to do to keep that thing in there, and away from us, and the other five women working there. I find a first aid kit and wrap Erik's arm in gauze and medical tape. I tell him to call 911, while I tell everyone working that night just what the hell is going on, they all think I'm insane, and tell me to get out, I go outside, maybe my team with outside, maybe they are taking a break too. I was wrong, they'd left maybe 15 minutes before everything went to hell.”

“Authorities arrive within five minutes, the bleeding on Erik's arm has slowed, but hasn't stopped, and that thing behind the door in the lab hasn't stopped banging on the door. I explain the situation to the police, and they round everyone in the building up, get everyone outside, and Erik is transported to a hospital nearby. Little did we all know the hell we unleashed there. The police enter the building and we all hear gunshots, the mangled groan again, screams of “why the hell isn't she going down!” and then the shots stop, the groaning stops.”

Dr.Warner pauses but regains focus

“The police are obviously shaken, they tell us all to go home, stay calm, like we're gonna stay calm after what just happened. But I head home, I find my wife, and my son, and I tell them to start packing, something isn't right, we’re leaving, and we’re leaving now.”

END OF INTERVIEW

#world war z #zombies #max brooks

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lightpost · 2 years ago

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how to heal?

Recently left someone who in his view can never do anything wrong, his actions were kind but his words are abusive and his emotional attacks were worse, he did end up beating me one night for 6+ hours and threw himself down the stairs just so I could pity him after he said he didn't remember beating me I took pictures and video of the marks and bruises but later he found them and deleted everything he then continued to go through my notebooks and journals and destroyed pages of my things, that was last month I've been seeing him since last Feb and my story can go on how much abuse I've taken since than

He came up to me one morning in the kitchen and told me I would fit him better if I didn't sleep with my past, told me I was loose and a calls every women a debauched and gapped out

I had a funeral in September and one night was crying I wanted to be held so badly I wanted comfort I wanted warmth he had a tone in his voice that was vile he told me to shut up and that his son was the only one who is allowed to cry and gave me a 2 hour speech on how pathetic I am and to cry harm when there is no harm I just lost my cousin man and now I'm being attacked for it how about when I had my period and he yelled at me while I'm hovering the toilet puking and how I'm faking it and belong in Hollywood and what a loser I am for having to lay on the bathroom floor.

I secretly think he wanted me to stay around just so that one day he can kill me

He brought my mental health down so badly I was having panic attacks out in public every morning I would wake up to yelling and screaming when he knew how important it is for me to have hugs and kisses in the morning I got farted on and yelled at I constantly shake around him and was so uncomfortable the only thing I did was hide and submit to him out of fear I barely talked, barely did anything, and his son watched it all and blames me for every action and how I brought darkness in his life and how depressed I am it was 24/7 abuse.

I'm struggling to keep it together, I've never been beaten like that before I've never heard cruel evil words like that before I'm shattered and the only thing keeping me from really breaking down is knowing there is a man out there who will pick me up off the floor and put me in his arms and hold me and let me vent this all out because I have to talk to someone about what just happened to me to have healing beyond human comprehension

All I want is to find that man whose voice is the light of my soul that's what I truly struggle with it was December 9tth 2012 I was working at lifetime fitness on the floor folding towels I swear to you this man's voice is the only thing that keeps me going to this day I had an out of body experience when I first heard his voice I was in the universe this man is so beautiful and strong he's the only one I've ever truly ever wanted and failed at even honoring that.

Thank you for letting me write a bit, cause going into a relationship with his child from a dark horrible past is something to be taken seriously and even possibly means death for a woman. I'll be getting therapy here shortly.

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speak-now-girlies-unite · 4 months ago

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(this is really long, if you want the tl;dr- lines from her song and from karnarks explanation make me think she hung from a tree for a bit. no one knew her cs she just moved to uranium a week b4 the accident and no one ever really had a chance to notice her.)

my much more in depth reasoning for jane hanging in the tree alive for a bit, plus how no one knew who she was:

cw: death, breif mentioned of shitty parents

how did she die?

in her song she sings “and from the ground beneath my feet i hear the anguish in the streets”. karnark says that the front axel (i tried googling what that is, i did not get very good results) broke and they fell from the top of the loop-de-loop, so the idea that shes falling feet first doesnt make much sense, and the idea that she gets stuck in the cart with her feet towards the ground doesnt make much sense either. i think she was definitely the last one to die, and ik that the head can hear for 7 seconds after being decapitated but i couldnt figure out a way for her head to be cut clean off, nothing really added up like that. plus, if it was just separated from her body and not destroyed, how did no one ever find it?

so i decided that the cart crashes into her head, squishing it into a million little pieces, killing her and allowing her to fall from the tree, unidentifiable and the last to die.

how did no one know her?

as we all know, uranium is a tiny town. in an early version of the opening song, they even say that theres only one main street. so if uranium is so small and everyone knew everyone, how did no one know jane?

i think that her and her family had just barely moved there, maybe for the same reason as oceans parents? maybe they just wanted to find a small rural town idk. jane joins the school and the choir a week before their performance/the accident, and father marcus lets her join because he thinks itll help her make friends. because she joined so late, her name isnt registered in the choir competition.

at the few choir practices that shes there for, she hangs around in the back with ricky. they noticed each other, but ricky couldnt talk and he never knew her name. in the afterlife, he knew what she looked like, but nothing about her (name personality likes dislikes etc) so he never mentioned that he knew her cause he didnt. the rest of the choir never noticed her.

(mischa- either skipping or on his phone. noel- arguing with ocean or missing cs of work. ocean- arguing with noel and being insane and stressed. constance- trying to keep noel and ocean from blowing up the place)

ok sure the choir but what about the rest of the school?

i think that jane couldve gotten mildly sick for a few days before the comp. if she had just moved to the school, and then disappeared for 2-3 days, and then died, she barely wouldve been noticed by anyone. no one knew her enough to notice her absence.

also, even if youre thinking the school keeping record of her tranferring, i think a lot of the town was very careless with records and in general keeping things safe. she couldve just not been ever mentioned anywhere.

her family???

this is the one thats actually stumped me. tbh i dont know and theres no real way to know, but if i had to come up with an explanation, i would say that she wasnt a planned kid, her parents were shitty, and they noticed she was gone but just never said anything bc they didnt care enough </3

ive also seen people bring up a little brother, but i dont know anything about legoland so im not going to go there, sorry.

so thats how i think everything went down! if you have any other questions, feel free to ask and ill try to answer the best i can. and remember, thats just a theory. a september 14th 6:19pm theoryy

how i think the choir died, in order + color coded<3 i doubt this is very accurate to how things happen irl but oh well

(the gray circles are trees)

#ride the cyclone theory #rtc #ride the cyclone #jane doe rtc #penny lamb #savannah rtc #tw death

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