#every day I open this app [screams in spanish] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heyitsyn · 4 years ago

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RANDOM SEIJOH HCs ACCORDING TO GIGI

a/n: this is a thing i cooked up between doing trig exam and ap gov review akdsjfldskfj

IM PRETTY SURE I ALREADY USED THIS GIF BUT IM WANTING TO RE-DO MY ENTIRE PAGE AND MAKING BANNERS SO THIS IS A TEMPORARY THING AJDJDJJD ALSO I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO THE KEEP READING THING ON THE APP BYE

oikawa def listens to indie music just bc he wants to feel unique and the 'iM diFfErENt fRoM oTHeR gUrLs' vibes

i FIRMLY BELIEVE IWAIZUMI HAJIME IS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO CHOMPS ON HIS ICE CREAM BC HE LIKES TO FEEL THE COLD ON HIS TEETH AKSJSKSKSK

meanwhile kunimi eats a kitkat like its pizza just CHOMP

makki caNNOT sleep without a pillow between his thighs LIKE LISTEN he has 2 sisters and they all told him its so comfortable and at first he was like,, ??,, then he tried and now cant sleep without it

bUT MATTSUN LIKES TO SLEEP WITH PILLOWS SURROUNDING HIM bc it makes him feel safe and like there are two body pillows on either side of him and hes kinda trapped in the middle aksjskdk

when kyo was younger, he was really short and although he had other pants, he loved this one pair but they were really long on him and he wore it all the time and the part of the pants that touched the ground is torn in shreds

kindaichi steps on the sofa before sitting LIKE puts one foot on the cushion then the other until hes literally standing on the couch before folding to sit with his knees up to his chest (i do this)

watari sniffs his food before eating it no matter if its something he eats all the time or something new, he still sniffs it either way

yahaba is really particular with his feet and he likes to get a really big tupperware (duh one only meant for his feet) and fill it up with warm almost boiling water and he just soaks them

oikawa has sleep paralysis and he oftens hallucinates about aliens in the corner of his room

kunimi does this thing where he makes weird noises with his mouth like sounds of his mouth opening LIKE when youre tastinf something new and you do that sound with your tongue (I DUNNO HOW TO DESCRIBE IT AJDKSKKD)

makki bends his knees just to crack his ankles

iwa sneezes a ton but he has those sneezes where theyre quiet that you dont even notice or really loudly that it just echoes throughout the gym

kyo sleeps with one sock on bc his feet gets cold easily but both socks make him feel really hot so only one sock is perfect

for a tall and hunk of a guy, mattsun is a very light walker like his footsteps are very light and if he wants to, it can be practically silent

watari actually hates vegetables ajssksksk he particularly hates zucchini, eggplants, any vegetables that are that shape

kindaichi likes to stick or lean against walls because to him, they feel cold and can decrease his body heat

oikawa stands and places his feet at V position like \/ instead of ll because his sister did ballet and he was taught that was the right way of standing and it was considered graceful

yahaba has a fear of cactuses

mattsun does so badly in the heat because his body temp runs so high and the hot surroundings make him feel so uncomfortable and so he takes a lot of cold showers

iwa cannot swim like he freaks out immediately when his toetips can no longer feel the bottom and he panics with thoughts of drowning

watari has really small feet that he still buys big kids shoes to save money

kyotani considered playing baseball because he thought baseball bats were cool but he got angry and threw tantrum after missing his first pitch

iwa chomps on a whole raw chili while eating ramen akskksks

oikawa actually hates sweets bc when he was younger, he had cavities and iwa showed him a cartoon of cavities eating his teeth and will make him toothless

kindaichi really really likes hugs but hes too awkward to ask them even from his parents

yahaba chomps on mints so he goes through boxes of them in a week

i feel like theres a boy in the team who doesnt brush their teeth everyday and rubs a towel on their teeth to make it look clean and take mints to hide their bad breath

iwaizumi is actually iron deficient so he bruises super super fast and he even developed iron defiency anemia when he was younger bc his parents didnt catch on which caused him to be put on strong medication for months and still takes it now

WAIT,, OIKAWA IS LACTOSE INTOLERANT BUT HE LIKES MILK SO HE EATS MILK BREAD TO MAKE HIM FEEL NOT SO BAD OR GUILTY OF CONSUMING STRAIGHT DAIRY

seijoh four bonding time is watching gordom ramsey shows and yelling and screaming 'YEA! EXACTLY!' as if theyre also cooking genuises

watari used to eat grapes all the time until his mom got worried and told him if he doesnt stop, he will eventually turn into one. he only eats it every few weeks

when he was younger, kunimi cried because he had befriended a chicken on a trip to a farm and his mom took him to eat fried chicken after and he thought it was Chicky (his chicken friend :"))

kyotani used to stick out his tongue when it was raining so he could taste the raindrops. they taste better than bottled water

one time, during a seijoh sleepover, they dared oikawa to wear his sisters old uniform, skirt and all, and it backfired so everyone turned red and couldnt look at him in the face

their pregame ritual is touching each other's shoe tips

they tried doing yoga at yahaba's house before by watching yoga youtube videos but everyone ended up having to go to the chiropractor after (how did makki even turn into the human pretzel?)

the local gym gets so scared when they see the team coming through the doors bc these men are so LOUD like they HYPE EACH OTHER UP SO MUCH THEYRE SO ANNOYING AKSKSKDK

also never take them to an all you can eat sushi place. if you do, bring them earlier of the day like 30 mins after opening time so the cooks can cook enough for them without running out of ingredients (even then sometimes they still run out)

oikawa used to eat his mom's roses from her garden because he thought it would make his farts smell good like roses

takahiro is a surprisingly good artist like he draws really cool action fighting scenes in the corner of his papers and stuff

in my work: it's canon that iwa is half filo and his nanay used to dress him up in a barong all the time during halloween bc she wanted him to showcase his heritage

yahaba drinks a lot of milk because he hopes to one day grow strong and bulky like the 3rd years instead of being seen as a pretty boy

kindaichi's mom is a hairstylist and she always scolds him for using a lot of gel bc she's always the one who washes his hair

makki never learned how to do taxes and hes had the government knocking on his door a handful of times (BOKUTO AKKDJSKKS)

kyo has a dog: a chiweenie

there's someone on the team who wears those socks with individual pockets for toes

their pinterest is so different from what they look like for example, mattsun has a board of different flower decorations and arrangements

kunimi throws up during intense horror movies

watari's celeb crush is emma watson

the team alternates from different music genres like from ateez and bts to mxmtoon and beach bunny

they still dont know how to pronounce camila cabello's name

theyre all active in social media but only oikawa is on it 24/7 and in all platforms while the others have insta and snap

mattsun has twins as little siblings and he used to get them mixed up all the time that he used to draw a sharpie dot on the girl's forehead to determine she was his sister

watari hates sitting on the floor bc his butt bone hurts really easily so he can only sit on cushions for long periods of time

the team was supposed to have a party but everyone didnt know what to bring so they proved they shared the same braincell by bringing the same thing: a box of pizza

makki's an old soul and prefers to play records on a record player or watch old movies

kyo is surprisingly good at giving massages because he really pushed hard on those tense muscles

kindaichi knows how to crack necks so everyone goes to him a lot to do it (a friend of mine does this and can i say its terrifying yet so good?)

the only one who has a license is matsukawa and thats because granny needs to go to the doctor a lot and he hates her walking by herself and cabs are expensive

kyotani and yahaba are actually,,, lowkey close,,, not like best friends but theyre nice to each other and they got a stick and poke together (yahaba's was: :) while kyo's was: >:))

watari has a collection of mangas (some bl maybe 👀)

WARNING SAD: mattsun’s future job is a funeral person right? he ends up taking care of granny’s funeral free of charge and he had to take a week off because it was really painful for him

oikawa learned spanish SUPER fast to the point he forgets japanese sometimes but there are moments where he forgets both languages and hes just,,,, ???

makki’s unemployed yea but he rooms with mattsun in exchange of cooking because makki’s surprisingly good at cooking

iwa is practically the nutritionist of the team because he knows everything about proteins, carbs, iron, and needed vitamins so they all go to him to know what to eat and what they need

kunimi has lots and lots of shoes but usually only wears 2

kindaichi has a habit of pretending hes chewing gum even though he doesnt have gum, his mouth just chomps and moves with air akasldfjkf

there was a clown phenomenon in america but in their city, they had a mascots and seijoh 4 went around scaring kids :”(

oikawa never manspreads he gets too insecure to spread out like that akdjfkd

kyotani can easily sleep anywhere like he would be standing and just fall asleep or he sleeps with his eyes open

yahaba’s parents own a restaurant somewhere in the city and he works there sometimes

IM REALLY GOING TOO MUCH ABOUT THIS YALL AKSDJFKL

SORRY IM WRITING TOO MUCH I FEEL BAD THAT I HAVENT UPDATED BUT IM IN A CAR RIDE RN AND I WAS ABLE TO WRITE AGAIN AND MY EXAMS HAVE FINISHED THIS WEEK IMMA CRY

PLEASE, FEEL FREE TO REPLY WITH ANY OTHER HCS YOU GUYS KNOW OF SO I CAN PUT IT IN HERE AND CREDIT YOU WITH IT SO WE CAN HAVE LIKE A HCS BOOK FROM EVERYONE BUT THIS IS WHAT I STARTED WITH

oikawa screams a lot according to gigi but he’s actually a really quiet guy and not easy to scare

OKAY YOU GUYS DONT KILL ME I SWEAR IVE BEEN SO TERRIBLE AT WRITING BUT YOU KNOW WHO TURNED ONE TODAY? THIS PAGE!!! MY BABY IS ONE ALREADY 😭😭😭 ANYWAYS, HOPE THIS CAN MAKE YOU GUYS SMILE TODAY AND SCHOOL ENDS NEXT WEEK AND IM ALREADY AT 132 DRAFTS AMSJKSDKSK SO OH MY GOD THERES GOING TO BE SO MUCH COMING AND IM SO EXCITED TO GET THEM OUT 😩😩

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owlways-and-forever · 5 years ago

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Not Giving Up (Pt II)

A/N: Okay, well, my quickly written one-shot has rapidly turned into an MC because I can't get enough of these two adorable idiots.

WC: 1470 | Pt I, or read on AO3, FFnet

o . o . o

Neil was coding.

He was lying in his bed, having a heart attack, and she could hear the machines beeping even though there were no heart monitors in his apartment. His neck was extended against the pillows, arteries popping against his skin as his muscles tensed excruciatingly. His mouth was dropped open in a silent scream.

She was in the kitchen, making pasta for dinner when it happened. She dropped the wooden spoon on the floor, let the water boil over onto the stove, sizzling, and she ran to the bedroom. It seemed like it took an hour to get there, a battle to cover every inch of ground. But then she was standing over him, rolling up her sleeves to do chest compressions and hopefully regulate the pace of his heartbeats.

Except she couldn’t remember the right rhythm.

Was it 5 compressions or 3? There was some song that was supposed to guide her, but all she could think of was Stayin’ Alive and she knew that was wrong. Worst misconception in the world because it was false but it was also a stupidly catchy tune and the second you thought about it every other song on the planet seemed to disappear.

It would have to be close enough.

She folded her fingers together and placed the heels of her hand right over his heart.

Ah ah ah ah stayin’ alive.

The sound of the imaginary monitors was flooding her ears, distracting her. She wanted them to shut up, but she also didn’t because that would mean he was dead. And she was not going to let that happen.

Claire woke up, confused and sweating, tears coating her cheeks. The nightmares were frequent, taking over her subconscious almost every night. Neil had been home for almost a week, and every night he died in her dreams. Except that was exactly what confused her. He died, every night, except tonight. Tonight he was dying, but not dead. Why had she woken up? She never woke up in the middle of a dream.

In her dazed, half asleep state she finally registered the feel of Neil tossing and kicking violently beside her. Oh.

She rolled over, grabbing his face with both of her hands. She really didn’t want to wake him, he needed the rest, but he was going to tear his stitches out and shred his abdomen to pieces if he kept moving like that.

“Neil,” she whispered, trying to wake him gently. Her voice didn’t seem to register with him, and she tried again, louder. “Neil!”

His eyes flipped open dramatically, wide and scared as he searched his surroundings. This was always hard. The two of them having nightmares that they didn’t want to talk about or acknowledge. At night especially, it seemed too scary to give voice to what happened inside their heads, as if that could suddenly make it real.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Claire asked, offering even though she knew the answer was going to be no.

Neil shook his head, staring up at the ceiling with tears building, and he reached out for her hand, holding it tight.

“Tell me something happy,” she demanded, knowing that distraction would be the best way to get the awful thoughts out of his head. She tried to keep her voice light and teasing. “Tell me about your tattoo, I’m dying to hear the story.”

“That’s not happy,” he croaked, his voice broken.

Well, crap. She searched her brain for anything else she could think of to ask him, but she was coming up frustratingly blank.

“About a year before you started at St. Bonaventure,” he said after a few minutes, taking a deep, steadying breath, “my dad passed away. He’d been sick for a long time - MS. He was a very pious man, and deer symbolize communication with God. But he was also stubborn and strong. A stag seemed like a fitting representation.”

Claire propped herself up on her elbow, reaching out to run her hands through his hair and smooth her thumb across his cheek, gently wiping away the tears that had gathered.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she whispered, frowning at him.

“I haven’t been back home since the funeral,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “I talk to my mom at least once a week, and she always comes out here for Christmas and Easter, but I just haven’t been able to go back to that house. There are so many reminders of him there.”

Claire stayed quiet, unable to even imagine what that was like. She’d lost her mom, sure, but her childhood hadn’t been filled with many tangible things, so there wasn’t much that reminded her of her mom. Other than alcohol.

“Where’s home?” she asked, realizing the extent of things they didn’t know about each other. Sure, she’d done all kinds of research on his education and professional background, but looking up his personal history had always seemed like some kind of line that shouldn’t be crossed.

“Phoenix,” he replied, looking at her with a curious expression. “We lived in the same tiny house my whole life. It was nice though. My parents spent pretty much all the money they had to raise their kids in a decent house in a good neighborhood.”

“When you talked to me about my mom…” Claire started, thinking out loud and remembering the night after Angie’s death. “Were you angry at your dad for dying?”

“Yeah,” Neil answered, nodding. “For a long time. He declined treatments, and I tried to get him into every trial I could find, but he wouldn’t do it. So yeah, I was angry at him for not fighting harder. But eventually I stopped being angry and I just missed him.”

Claire nodded next to him. She was still waiting for the anger at her mother to fade completely.

“What’s your mom like?” she asked, changing the topic to something that was hopefully a little bit happier. Hopefully, one day Claire would meet Mrs. Melendez herself, but for now she was more than happy to listen to his stories about her.

“Mamá is a spitfire,” Neil answered, smiling wide. “She wants to take care of everyone all the time and fix every problem. She is so proud of me, and she tells me every time we talk. If she were here, she would probably tell everyone in the hospital embarrassing stories about me as a kid.”

Claire laughed, wondering what exactly Neil’s mother would have to tell.

“She’ll love you,” he said, reaching out to play with her curls. “You guys are two peas in a pod. Kind, smart, witty, beautiful.”

“So you’re saying you’ve got an oedipal complex?” Claire teased, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh yeah, big time,” he quipped sarcastically, reaching out to tickle Claire with the tips of his fingers.

She shrieked in response, curling up into a ball and trying to roll away from him, but he caught her with arms around her waist, fingers still wriggling against her skin. Claire laughed and twisted in Neil’s arms, making him laugh as well, until they were both breathless and he finally ceased the onslaught. Neil pressed kisses to her neck instead, nuzzling his nose against her skin sweetly.

“Hey, you want kids, right?” Claire asked suddenly, a thought occurring to her. “I mean, I heard that was what happened with you and Jessica. I don’t mean to pry, I just wondered…”

“Yeah,” he answered quickly, looking at her quizzically. “Do you?”

He felt his stomach pitch at the realization that her answer might be no. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not want kids someday, but it was entirely possible. Wracking his brain, he knew that he’d never heard her allude to wanting to be a mom. Ever. And after her own experiences with her mom, he could understand it if she had her qualms about it. But Claire nodded with a small shrug.

“Someday,” she said, smiling at him. “You would make a great dad though.”

Neil hummed, burying his face in her shoulder. After being pleasantly distracted from his own nightmares, he was getting sleepy again, and his eyes were drooping closed, eyelashes fluttering against Claire’s skin. She waited until he was asleep, and then grabbed her phone off the nightstand. She opened the app store and immediately began downloading Duolingo. She had never paid much attention until he had been talking about his mother, but the details were registering now, and she was putting the pieces together. Neil spoke Spanish at home, at least sometimes, and she was pretty sure he was going to want his future children to speak Spanish too. So if she wanted that future with him, she better get learning.

Plus, she really wanted to impress his mom.

#the good doctor #neil melendez #claire browne #melendaire #tgd ff #tgd fic #gen writes

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years ago

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Unforgettable-Chapter Two

Previous chapter on AO3 A special thanks to @statell for all your help

Chapter Two

Jamie ran to the shower and thought about how to say goodbye to the Sassenach. His shower was twice as long because what he said had to be perfect. If she wouldn’t stay maybe he could convince her to come back.

Claire’s mind was screaming at her to get up and get away before things got awkward. Still coming out of the orgasm haze, it was difficult to think clearly. By habit, she evaporated, stumbling to the door as she ordered an UBER.

Sinking into the front seat she felt a little safer, but from what, she wondered? That question was pondered right up to her front door and the answer was grim and devastating. It didn’t fit in the landscape of her life, and it threatened the foundation of her neatly constructed existence. Safer from herself was the answer and it rattled her to her core. It was like she was suddenly split in two. One side was arguing for love and commitment, the other side shouted for independence and freedom. Opposing sides meant she could be wrong about living without her heart and that was starting to feel like a threat.

Claire was in the grips of a panic attack that included the fight or flight reaction. She wanted to run and save her own life…from herself. The phone called her attention away and thankfully it was Geillis.

“Claire! I took the day off to help ye, are ye ready for me?”

“Yes! Please hurry and let yourself in, I’m getting in the shower.”

Geillis had knocked on Claire’s door the evening before, planning to spend the night on her couch but she never came home, and her phone was turned off. Geillis was not surprised Claire would grab every possible minute of fun, even on the eve of her departure. She got busy taping up her boxes to be shipped and filling out labels to Honduras.

“Stop Geillis! I haven’t pulled my clothes that I’m taking in a suitcase!”

Claire pulled the boxes open and filled a suitcase of clothing to wear while she waited for the boxes to arrive. Geillis knelt on the floor so she could start over while Claire pulled her field pants on, tucking in a white t-shirt and lacing up trench boots. This last-minute chaos was her comfort zone and kept her mind off Jamie Fraser. It was helping, she was feeling in control again. She would be fine, she decided, once she was away from Scotland, she would never think of these people again. She prayed to find a gorgeous sexy doctor on staff in Honduras that she could lose herself in.

The doorbell made her gasp and blush crimson as she looked out the peephole. The sight of Laoghaire was a relief, or was it a disappointment? The argument in her head raged again making Claire feel insecure and fearful. What if she was wrong about love? What if she was leaving Jamie behind based on a faulty decision to disconnect and just have fun. The panic attack came roaring back and she had to get to the airport before something tragic happened. She looked at the UBER app on her phone for almost a minute.

“I think we’re ready Claire. I’ll come back for the boxes this afternoon,” assured Gellis.

“Good, let’s go.”

Claire sat alone waiting to board. Calming, deep breaths were doing nothing for her shaking hands, racing heart, and mounting nausea. She pushed back on the tears that burned her eyes. Get me out of here, get me out of here, get me out of here, became her mantra until the plane was high in the air taking her to a new life.

A new book, a sketching pad, her laptop, and maps of Honduras were piled on the seat next to her, ready to occupy her time and keep thoughts of Jamie away. She tipped the steward lavishly, so he never let her drink go dry or the peanuts run out. In between each activity, she found herself staring out the window, reliving the night before when they talked so honestly and loved without limits. By nightfall, she was drunk enough to fall asleep for the rest of the trip.

The reverse thrust of the engines and a hard break pulled her from sleep as the plane was coming to a stop. She was in Honduras and the plane had landed without someone waking her to put her tray table up and return her seat to the upright position. She glanced at her lap, not even a wake-up to put her seat belt on. Grabbing her carry on and purse, she walked to the front of the plane where a group of men were trying to get the door open.

“Excuse me, please. What is happening?”

The man in front of her glared at her suspiciously and didn’t answer. Claire spoke to him again in almost perfect Spanish and he did not bother to turn around. She sighed and found a seat to watch the men try to open the side door and deploy the chute. Apparently, Honduras Airlines would get you to the airport, but you had to find your own way off the plane. She rolled her eyes feeling the heat and humidity flow into the cabin now that the air conditioners were turned off. Thirty minutes later the door opened, and she shot down the chute, drunk once again after helping herself to the drink tray while she waited.

Landing on the hard ground Claire gathered her purse and suitcase but was unsuccessful at standing up. She wondered if she could sleep for just a bit on the puffy sides of the chute. She bent to lay her head down and saw a familiar hand in front of her face.

“No, Claire, sleeping on the tarmac is not allowed. Have no fear my beautiful friend, your bed is near.”

Strong arms pulled her up and grabbed her suitcase as thoughts of Jamie’s biceps, back, thighs and butt, filled her head. She looked at Joe and smiled in gratitude. For the next thirty minutes, the open jeep bounced through the jungle into a pitch-dark night.

“Claire sweetheart, you are too quiet. Are you feeling sick? If so, just lean over and let it rip.”

Claire looked up at his disembodied voice and could not see even an outline of where he was. She crossed her arms around her stomach and closed her eyes.

“There it is baby girl, your home for the next twenty-four months.”

She looked up feeling a rush of relief there were lights ahead. I can do this, she thought, we have light to feel safe in this primitive place. When the jeep finally stopped, a gorgeous man came around the jeep and kissed Joe soundly, moaning as they embraced. The men separated and Joe made the introductions.

“Claire, this is Kevin, Kevin, this is the super nurse I told you about.”

Kevin smiled and stuck out his hand, but Claire was too polluted with alcohol to remember to turn her head. The next movement she felt was Joe hoisting her over his shoulder and she struggled with her nausea as he walked to her room and dropped her on the bed. She was so close to hurling she kept her eyes squeezed shut and waited for the lovers to leave.

Her misery had no equal, waking every hour or so to stumble outside and rid her stomach of its contents, dripping wet with clothing clinging to her. This continued for what felt like several months, if not a year. It was actually a single night of puking into the jungle, severe anxiety when awake, and her broken heart reminding her of the most incredible man she had ever known. As dawn broke over the jungle, the blood-curdling screams of the monkeys brought her out of her dreams, sitting up wide-eyed, looking for an escape. Dropping to the soaking wet mattress, with a throbbing head and churning stomach, she decided she landed in hell and kept her door locked for the rest of the day and night.

Someone pounded on the door and Claire bolted upright trying to control her ramming heart. She was disoriented and the knocking got louder forcing her to find the door by feeling along the wall.

“Nurse Beauchamp! We have casualties. Report to triage, on the double!”

Casualties? What the fuck was he talking about? Why is he so rude, he doesn’t even know me?

A loud kick at her door made Claire jump, pulling the door open. The hallway was crowded with hospital personnel running in both directions. She stood, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, shaking from head to toe. A familiar arm came around her waist pulling her out of her room and rapidly forward.

“We have casualties Claire and need you to do triage for the surgeons. I’m sorry to throw you into the fire baby, this was not expected. If you want to live another day, it’s time to save lives, Claire.”

“What?”

Joe pushed her into a large room full of crying people on liters or the concrete floor. She held her head and assessed the most gruesome and life-threatening injuries she had ever seen. Pure terror filled her heart and she felt her feet moving forward. Sinking down to the floor, she assessed each body and sorted them into three groups. Those that would die within thirty minutes, those that would die in three hours, and those that were already dead. A young Honduran male assisted her in moving the bodies into the three groups.

A warm hand came down on Claire’s shoulder, dripping with blood. A strong voice asked her to identify the groups. Claire looked up at a beautiful face, eyes that held compassion and strength, and she felt safe suddenly, as long as he was near.

The man knelt in front of her. “Did you just get here? Don’t answer, I can see that you did. Let me explain. This is unusual but the casualties are from an attack on a nearby village, for food and supplies. The resistance gets more powerful and bolder. These are innocent people. Farmers and merchants that are being exterminated throughout the country. Do not speak to any of the villagers, ever! The resistance hates the US and UK. Don’t let them know you are English speaking. It will keep you safe. What’s your name?”

“C..Claire Beauchamp.”

“Welcome aboard, Beauchamp. What is your specialty”

“Trauma and neonatal.”

“Perfect…you are with me for every shift. Just look at the surgery schedule. Anywhere you see my name, that is your shift. Am I clear, Beauchamp?”

“Yes, clear sir. What is your name?”

“Cutter Anderson.”

“Looks like two in your first group have expired. Get the kid to move them to the dead pile.”

The man was running toward the surgical wing, he was out of sight in two minutes. Claire felt the deep quaking and jerking of her body and hands. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, so she pointed at the newly dead gesturing toward the pile of bodies and watching the young assistant pull them away. Knowing her time to save the deeply wounded was short, she gestured to the young man to move them into position of greatest need for immediate surgery. Other people came with liters to carry them away, one by one. She saw the extent of pain and misery on the remaining group and ran to administer pain killers, dressings, burn treatment, and stabilizing IV solutions to keep them alive.

Her misery, fear, and heartbreak forgotten, she spent the next thirteen hours at trauma level assisting the villagers. When the last body was placed on the liter, heading for surgery, she collapsed in a corner and stared into the empty, bloody room. She was covered in sweat and blood, barely feeling Joe pick her up and carry her to the communal shower where he pulled her shoes and clothes off, down to her underwear. Cool water covered her, and Joe pushed her head under the water stream. Claire tried to protest but gave up to the ministrations of her best friend who seemed to know just what to do.

“C’mon sweetheart, hold still while the water brings your temperature down. Jesus Christ Claire, you were amazing. I expect the personnel will part like the red sea for you after that shift. What was that baby? Home? You want to go home?”

He kissed her cheek with a smack. “You don’t have a home, so you're stuck with me.”

When Claire cried, he could feel the shaking start from shock. He pushed her hair out of her face and held her close under the cold water. Claire sobbed and called out for Jamie. Joe tucked her into bed and laid down next to her so she could feel him holding her and hear his breathing. During the night, her body stopped shaking, and the drenching sweat returned, Joe slipped from her bed to look for Kevin.

Claire was ripped from a deep sleep nearly jumped out of bed from the loud kicking at her door. “Not again!”

She pulled the door open gasping for breath, holding her arm in front of her eyes from the glaring light in the hallway. A breakfast bar was shoved into her hand as the man barked, she was needed in surgery.

“Dress Beauchamp, I’m waiting to escort you to surgery.” When he saw her eyes glaze over, he brought the volume up, “on the double nurse!”

Claire was shoved into a sterile gown and a cap that instantly soaked into her scalp. She scrubbed for gloves and was pushed into the OR to assist with a premature birth while the doctor worked quickly to save the mother.

“Ready Beauchamp? Two minutes and you’re in a race to save this baby. Good luck.”

Claire felt like she was in a dream. She looked around the surgical room for another doctor to assist with the baby. It was her and Cutter Anderson, no one else. She looked up at the doctor wide-eyed and questioning.

“You are all she’s got, and you’ve likely seen the procedure many times. You know what to do, so do it.”

Claire grabbed a blanket from the stack and held her arms out to receive the tiny body. When the doctor dropped the lifeless baby into her arms, she felt the strength of ten men galvanizing her into action. She cleared the airways and slapped the thigh of the baby hearing the doctor roar, “harder! She won’t do this on her own. C’mon nurse, lay some pain on that baby or lose her!”

Claire heard quiet sounds from the baby and recognized the newborn was in distress. She felt her heart pound and her arms fly taking a stick of blood from the heal, listening for heart rate and wrapping the infant in warm blankets. Her lips were still blue, and Claire called to the doctor for intubation and respiratory assist.

“Get her ready, I’ll give you two minutes of my time for intubation. Get the ventilator and monitors ready in the incubator, get a surfactant replacement ready for the breathing tube, and hurry!” Like an after thought, “treat with eyewash before taping the lids closed.”

“Ready doctor!”

He jerked his head up and saw the equipment arranged, baby’s eyes taped shut and the glowing incubator. He took two steps and had the infant with a breathing tube down her windpipe in one minute. The baby was unwrapped to expose her skin to the UV lamps that would consume the extra bilirubin built up in her blood. The infant showed no movement and Claire was scared to death.

“Assist please, Beauchamp. I need you to grab the clamped blood vessel under the uterus. I can’t hold the organs away and grab it, You ready?”

They tried twice and the patient was losing blood pressure rapidly.

“Come in front of me and hurry.”

Once Claire was in front of the doctor, she felt him breathing into her hair and pressing into her back. His long arms came around her and lifted the organs up. Claire saw the blood vessel and grabbed it, locking the forceps to hold it.

“Awesome, you just saved this teenager's life, good job.”

The doctor’s arms opened allowing Claire to move away. She watched his practiced hands move swiftly, and ten minutes later the abdomen was closed, and a transfusion was pumping life-saving blood into the woman.

“Excellent job, nurse. I could cry with relief that we have someone of your caliber.”

Claire thanked him as he backed into the scrub room pulling his gown and gloves off, looking exhausted. Claire returned to the baby and pulled a new glove on one hand. Sticking her pinky into the mouth she lightly rubbed the roof of her mouth waiting to feel the tongue make a connection and start sucking. No response and her heart fell.

Claire ran out of the OR right into the hot wet air of the hallway reminding her that the surgical rooms were cooled to control bleeding. She was slick with sweat in mere minutes, asking people where doctor Anderson was.

“Who?”

“Cutter! Cutter Anderson.”

Someone pointed to the shower room and Claire bounded in coming face to face with a naked doctor. Her shock was obvious, and the man kindly turned around and asked what she needed.

“Ah…stom…stomach tube in the baby…please. I’m sorry to burst in here like this.”

Claire could feel her blushing face, like fire on her skin. But when he turned around, she allowed herself to study his tall, muscular frame. Nothing close to Jamie’s physique, but impressive nonetheless. She tried to imagine running her hands up his back or feeling his body pressed into her back as he did in surgery earlier.

“I’ll get the tube in. Give me five minutes nurse.”

Claire was locked in her head and was still staring when he turned around. Seeing his eyes lock on hers she jumped and ran away, hearing the good doctor laugh behind her.

The city of Edinburgh was like a gem to a farm boy raised on an ancient estate in the country. He couldn’t get enough of the castles, culture, and preserved lands where great battles were fought, and courageous men died. His first look at the city each day set his mood of wonderment and happiness which lasted throughout the day.

But not now, because Jamie opened his office like a zombie. What did he think? She would change her plans, her personality, drop her fear of intimacy and become a trusting perfect woman after one night in his bed? Every spare minute during the long day Jamie was beating himself up mentally. He tried very hard to hate her, and remember the empty bed, her cold-hearted escape during his shower. The minutes played with his head as he tried to act normal with his patients. The office staff asked him several times if he felt ill. He finally said he had a migraine and the sympathy of his team felt like a warm blanket. Why couldn’t you leave me alone Sassenach? You are heartless.

From one until two o’clock his anxiety grew until he could hardly speak to anyone. He could feel the rumble of her departing plane shaking him on the inside, he finally asked the office manager to cancel all appointments for the rest of the day.

Jamie poured a whisky and sank into his couch, remembering how she pressed into his face confessing she was hopelessly crushing on him.

The irony did not escape him. For over a decade he lived without commitment and emotion so he could perform the job he was given and meet the rigors of medical school. Sadly, it became him, self-reliant, focused, and sometimes ruthless. The attributes that built a successful practice were gone. Compassion, empathy, sincerity, concern, and willingness to serve others, once seen as weakness, were now required. He worked very hard at getting this back. The Sassenach was still learning to live without them. But her involuntary reactions like blushing, pupil dilation, respiration, and dancing with a fish, were collectively revealing her truth.

Jamie poured another whisky and tried to get some work done but he couldn’t concentrate. “I see, I’m not miserable enough for ye.” He stared out the window at the heavens and drained his glass before pouring another. When the walls started closing in on him, he tossed his gear in his truck and left. Two days in the woods would clear his mind and on Monday he would return a new man, he decided. Deep inside he prayed this was true. He found no value in this purgatory so he would think her away.

Jamie felt stronger the closer he came to Lallybroch. When the landmarks of his youth came into view, he smiled at the comfort they provided, exciting him to get as far and high as he dared over the next two days. Pulling his pack onto his back sent a message to his brain; prepare for the pain. A subconscious trigger from the weight of his pack, and years of training opened the flood gates of adrenalin, increased respiration, and engorged the muscles that would stabilize his body as he climbed. He felt alive and in tune with the woods and soaring rock. He was ready, and that made him happy.

When the sun started it's decent, Jamie found his favorite campsite and set up for the night before heading to the stream for his super. He was ravenous and consumed two energy bars to stem the shaking in his hands while he fashioned a rod and tied his hook and string. Back against a rock where he wouldn’t cast a shadow on the water, he pulled his book out to enjoy reading while he still could. Three pages was the longest interval between fish. Dropping two gutted fish back into the water for breakfast, he returned to camp and his dinner.

With a full belly and exhausted muscles, Jamie laid under the stars and decided this must be what drugs feel like… sublime, until she showed up. Like a shadow, she was always with him if he cared to look, and the sole purpose of this trip was cutting her loose. Paying close attention to his feelings, he summoned her to him and imagined her sitting by the fire. The first thing he felt was fear and he sat up abruptly and shook his head. That was impossible! Preposterous because fear was a stranger to him, yet there it was. I don’t live in fear, he thought, of anything, especially a one-hundred-pound girl. He could accept the feeling of loss, concern for her safety, or hurt that she did not want him. There was a multitude of feelings he would accept, but fear was not one of them, yet there it was.

Jamie went back to the beginning of their short twenty-hour history, working forward in his memory he could not find the fear. The night pressed into his brain with soothing sounds and smells. Like a mother’s lullaby, it made him sleep, dreamless until the first rays of morning touched his skin... like a sledgehammer.

Resuming his uphill climb, he struggled from the get-go, needing multiple rest breaks to breathe and let the sting in his thighs pass. Frustration imposed and he finally gave up when he found one of his favorite meadows where he could nap in the sunshine. Why was this so hard today he wondered, refusing to acknowledge the answer screaming in his ear. He finally took ownership of how he felt and surrendered, before walking to the stream to fish for his luncheon with fear. Once he was full, he turned a deadly eye on his guest and ruthlessly pulled the truth out of it. In his mind, he was ferocious toward the fear but when he saw Claire his stomach flipped, and he felt weak. The stark contrast told him something subconscious was fueling his attachment to her. It wasn’t sex, or her fabulous personality, her daring nature, or her vulnerability. This was no easy thing to flesh out and he felt defeated and frustrated, so he packed up and kept walking. Fear was easily keeping up with his pace, gaining in strength as Jamie was losing his own. “Christ almighty,” he growled, and looked for the next meadow to think some more. He laid back in the sun and napped while his subconscious gained the upper hand and presented the problem. Don’t expect her to go away and leave your heart, it said. You are connected to her for life, it is destiny for you both, you have no say in the matter. Jamie struggled to wake up, somehow knowing it was a dream and ready to wage war on the answer. You have lived many lives together and will continue to do so as the ages pass.

“Enough!”

Jamie sat upright, hearing his voice shout out to no one. Suddenly, he felt like a miserable pile of putrid emotion and anger, polluting this pristine landscape. He packed up and started the climb down. There is no supernatural, he thought, no soulmate, no destiny, and I am arguing with my own mind!

The first remedy was a substantial glass of whisky once he got home, and then another. He decided they would find teeth in his brain when he was autopsied in fifty years or so. Teeth of a twin that never developed and he would have been the stupid twin now exerting his foolish ideas while Jamie slept. Jamie felt the warm shower rinse his toothless twin away, laughing at his conclusion. There were thousands of women right here in Edinburgh. He will supplant the unforgettable Claire with little effort and be better for it. He was calm and relieved when he dropped into bed.

Claire was so freaked out by seeing the doctor in the shower that she forced Joe to engage her in conversation near the nursery to avoid interaction with the doctor. The baby’s survival hung on minutes now, she would start the supplement for her sustenance the minute she was tubed.

Joe asked why they were fake talking outside the neonatal room. After explaining what happened, seeing the doctor naked, he gripped his knees and bent over laughing, releasing a spontaneous fart that brought color to his dark cheeks.

“Jesus Claire, it’s co-ed, and I guarantee you will not get through a shower without a dangler walking in.”

“And what would be a dangler?”

Joe extended a finger at his crotch and wiggled it while he tried to contain his laughter. Claire rolled her eyes just as the doctor was exiting the room.

“Good to go, nurse.”

“Oh yes, he is definitely stalking you now Claire.” It was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Shut up you idiot, it was my embarrassment, remember?”

Claire made a disgusted sound and pushed into neonatal to finally feed the tiny survivor. Waiting an hour after the feeding, she did the critical testing for neurological, heart, lung, kidney, and heel sticks for blood chemistry. Hours later, she read the disappointing results and braced herself for a likely end. Claire ran her fingers over the baby’s skin and held her tiny hand. Her eyes hurt from being open too long and she felt her tongue stick to her cheeks. If she did not do some self-care soon the baby would lose her only advocate.

Doctor Cutter Anderson walked into neonatal at three o’clock in the morning. He knew the baby was too young to survive without a dedicated team of neonatal specialists. It was only a matter of time, so he braced himself before each visit. Claire laid on an extended lazy boy, sound asleep. Cutter could see her phone ticking down for the hourly alarm, his impression of her was growing. He smiled at her and appreciated the private time to really look at her. “What is such a pretty girl doing in this hell-jungle?”

Cutter covered Claire with a thin blanket to avoid excessive mosquito bites and left, turning off the light. When Claire felt the vibration of her phone she struggled to remember where she was as she sank back into her dreams. She was lying on the forest floor as sweat dripped off her from the stifling heat. It was difficult to take a breath of the hot, humid air. Cold drops of water sprinkled down on her shoulders making her gasp with the contrasting temperature. When she opened her eyes, Jamie’s face was right above her, smiling. The tie covered her eyes and she went to the blackness.

The phone vibrated again and woke her from the haunting dream. “Go away Jamie,” she whispered, “get out of my head.” She completed the feeding while dozing and gratefully returned to the lazy boy, hoping Jamie did not invade her dreams. Or did she hope he would? Her exhaustion took over before she knew the answer.

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howardpotts · 6 years ago

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A New Message

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You decide to tease Steve, but it takes a whole other turn and you end up having phonesex.

Warnings: smut

A/N: The ending is really bad, I’m sorry!! :(( Let me know what you think! I always love comments!

As your shopping bags hang awkwardly on your lower arm, you try to open the door of your apartment with your key. At the same time, your neighbour decides to come out. He’s a cranky old man who always wears pyjamas. His hair grey and ruffled, stank always surrounding him.

He looks at you with big eyes while he walks past you, observing how you keep failing at opening your door. “Hello Mr. Brown”, you say while not letting your eyes go from the door. He doesn’t answer. He never does.

When you finally feel the key going in the lock, you sigh out of relieve. Your eyes now wander to your neighbour, but he’s already around the corner. You roll your eyes slightly, but your attention is back on the key. You turn your hand to the right, the key going with your movement. The lock is off the door and so you kick in the door. The door flies open and hits the wall. You flinch, squeezing your eyes, hoping that there’s no hole in the wall.

Your apartment is old. Everything works, but at every end of every day you preach that nothing stopped working. When you step inside, you hear the wood crack under your shoes. Most people would get that replaced, but for you it felt like coming home. It felt like the apartment welcomed you back.

You drop the four shoppingbags on the floor, a relieve washing over you. Finally home. You inhaled deeply, the musty scent entering your nose. And finally ready for you to watch the movie you so desperately wanted to see since it appeared on Netflix two weeks ago.

Just when you settled down on the couch, you see your phone lightning up on the coffeetable. Quickly you grab it; it could be Steve. He’s touring the world right now with Tony to deal with a few politicians who didn’t agree with something. It was a complicated story, but it was necessary for them to go and talk to them face to face.

Steve was having a hard time. He might be a super soldier, but he hated talking to all those politicians. He wanted to do mission, be out on the field. The urge to just get some action instead of sitting in a chair, energy nowhere to go.

Miss you.

So adorable. He knew how to text and such, but he was still learning. Most of the times he called you, because text felt not that personal. You just nodded, knowing better than to get in to a discussion how sending a ‘I love you more than pizza’ is considered very romantic in this era of time.

miss you too xx

You hit send with a little smile on your face. Every time you had just a little bit of contact, your mood changed completely. Where you first were grumpy and tired, you’re now happy and energetic.

The two of you messaged back and forth, about how both of your days were. The way Steve texted you had you chuckling. It was static as if he was giving very formal updates. He told you that he didn’t mind that you didn’t text him back with proper grammar, but he felt uncomfortable doing it himself.

Can you tell him to stop texting so we can start preparing for tomorrow? Thank you dear.

Tony send you the text and two seconds after, a picture appeared on your screen. Apparently Tony snaked a photo of Steve. It had you biting your bottom lip. He was wearing a three-piece suit. Light grey with a white blouse underneath it. It was perfectly fitted. He was placed on a couch, his arm loosely hanging over the armrest. His right leg was thrown over the other, showing a bit of his black sock. You noticed that he loosened up his tie, which was now messily hanging around his neck.

And he wasn’t looking at Tony, he was looking at his phone. A small smirk on his face, a glint in his eyes. The fact that you knew he was texting you, made your heart jump. That he was looking like that while typing in some message on his phone, made you hungry for attention.

And you, on the other hand, weren’t wearing your best clothes. When you woke up this morning, you scrapped a pair of jeans and some top that had the text ‘nope’ on it of the floor and put it on your body. The only thing you did put a bit of effort in, was your make-up. But just a bit.

why didnt you tell me that you were wearing a suit? looks good on you

You know he’s with Tony and you know he has important business to discuss, but you couldn’t help yourself but test the captain on his texting skills. With that in mind, you walk in to the bedroom.

Steve’s eyebrow quirks up while he reads your message. How did you know that he was wearing a suit? His eyes went from his phone to Tony, only to be met with a grin on his face.

“Ah, did Y/N finally tell you to put your phone away?” Tony stuffs his phone in his pockets and opens the map full with paperwork. A little sigh left Steve’s mouth. He doesn’t mind the paperwork, but he does mind that it’s not from a mission but from a formal meeting. That’s not something he was carved out for to do. He was carved to fight crime and stopping some bullies.

Steve drops his phone next to him, his eyes on the papers in front of him. “Okay, so tomorrow we’re going to meet with the Spanish minister of Foreign Affairs”, Tony started. Steve nodded, now reforming his trail of thoughts. Turning whining in to business. He did it for the Avengers and himself, for them to keep fighting and to keep the world from big dangers.

When his phone lit up, his attention was gone and Tony noticed. “Cap, come on, two more minutes.” Tony’s voice was leaking in annoyance, as if he was discussing this important matter with a child. Steve, on the other hand, already unlocked his phone, only to lock it after two seconds and his eyes slightly bigger. He corrected himself quickly, turning to the papers again. “Continue.”

Tony shook his head while rolling his eyes, but kept his mouth shut about it and continued. He wanted to get it over with as much as Steve wanted to. “As I was saying..”

Steve wasn’t listening at all to what he was saying. His mind was still on the photo he just saw in your messaging box. It was a picture of you, lying in bed. The photo showed til your belly button. The only thing you were wearing, was a red bra. Laced and dangerously low. A mischievous smile hangs on your face, your eyes are playful. Your hair is spread on the pillow, but in such way that even that looks appealing to him. He wants to go through your hair, tug it while kissing you.

“Tony”, Steve interrupted. He never was one to shove work to the side, but he wasn’t processing any information that was given to him. Tony stops talking and looks at him, blood probably boiling. “What now?”, he says irritated. He ticks with his fingers on the table impatiently.

“Can’t we do this tomorrow morning? I’m tired, you’re tired. We live in each other’s pockets for days now”, Steve sighs. It’s true, they’ve been very irritated with each other lately. But the real reason Steve’s concentration is gone, will never come out of his mouth.

The message was seen within two seconds, but no response yet. You weren’t sure if he was busy or shocked, but the fact that he saw the picture had you grinning. You were still laying on your bed in the same redlaced bra, scrolling slowly through your social media. Even though he hasn’t responded yet, you had high hopes he might respond in a few minutes. You just had to be patient.

The minutes slowly tick by, making you more and more impatient. You go to the conversation between you and Steve again, hoping it’d pop up the moment you opened your chat. But it didn’t. Nothing happened.

With a huff you get yourself off the bed, too impatient to wait any longer. With nothing but a bra and panties on, you walk to the couch, grabbing a soft blanket and wrapping it around you.

Ping! Your phone let you know you had a message and you couldn’t be quicker to reach for it. Steve.

That makes me miss you even more.

Hm. Not the response you wanted to get. You might want to- Holy crap. Another message appears on your screen. It’s a photo. His hair is a bit ruffled in this one, as if he didn’t bother to get it right for the picture. Or maybe, he wanted it to be ruffled. He knows how much you like it messy. But you like it because most of the time you’re the one that caused it to look like that. Most of the time, it was after sex.

His blue eyes pierce through the camera right in your soul, they’re screaming sex. But the thing that catches your eyes the most, is that he’s shirtless. You did not expect to receive a shirtless photo from Captain America, but damn, you’re not complaining. His right hand is under his head, left is taking the selfie. He just made a shirtless selfie and you don’t know how to react to it.

You stare at the picture for a minute, still taking in what you’re seeing, before you jump in to action to respond. You decided to test his boundaries, to see how far this can go. And so, you lay on your belly, elbows holding you up. Your arms squeeze your boobs together, your ass pushed in the air. You open your camera-app and take another selfie, making it way more sexy than the first you sent.

When you send the picture, you add a quick message:

wish you were here right now..

You feel a bit nervous sending those things, but at the same time it had you smiling like crazy. You felt like a teen who did something their parents told them not to. And you loved it.

Maybe five seconds after you send the picture, your phone buzzes again, but multiple times. He’s calling you. Oh god, he’s calling you. That can’t be good. Or maybe it is?

With your heart pounding in your chest, you pick up the phone. “Hey sweetie”, you say innocently, a small nervous smile on your face. You shift uncomfortably on the couch.

“Drop the sweetie, doll��, he replied, voice husky and low, causing you to get goose bumps all over your body. You keep your mouth shut, not knowing what to say.

“You think you can send me pictures like that without consequences?”, he asks. You nod, but you know he can’t see. If you know he could, you would not have been nodding.

“No”, you giggle. You can’t hide how nervous but excited you are for this new thing you just discovered. You sent him dirty pics and he likes it.

“When I get home, I want you on the bed, naked and ready for me. Understood?” It’s not a question, but a command.

“Yes, sir”, you answer. You’re not talking much, but whenever it comes to sex, you’ve always been like this. You just tell him yes or no, you mostly beg for him to do something and when he finally does, you let yourself hear in moans instead of words.

“Good girl. Now, since I’m not there for another week, why don’t you touch yourself for me?” You gasp at the question. Is this going to be phonesex? Are you really going to do that?

“O-okay”, you respond. You let your hand kneed your left boob. The hand slowly slides under your bra, pinching your nipples a few times. It makes you breath harder and Steve notices.

“Tell me doll, what are you doing?”, he asks with the same husky voice. He’s definitely enjoying this, you can tell from his voice.

“I- I’m rubbing my nipple”, you say. Where Steve’s voice sounds like he had done it a million times before, yours sounded surprised and not convinced at all.

“Hmm, good girl. Are you wet for me, baby?”, he asks. You hum in response. “That’s good baby, that’s really good.”

“Steve?”, you ask unsure. A small ‘hmm’ comes from the other side of the line. “Are you touching yourself too?”

A chuckle in response. “Yes, doll. Do you like that?”, he asks. You swallow hard. He’s touching himself right now, just like you are touching yourself. It’s a situation you never thought you would be in. Not that he was vanilla in bed, but now you felt like you were outdone by a 100 year old man.

“Yes, yes I like that”, you hiss. Your hand let go of your breasts and slowly makes it way down, making sure to lightly touch your belly. You close your eyes and feel how you’re getting more into the moment.

“Going to finger”, you say with a whisper but more confident than you had this entire conversation. You hear a bit of a shuffle on the other side of the line and a small ‘ah’ after it.

“Do that, baby. Yes, do that. Make yourself feel good.” And with that, you slip your hand in your panties. Now that Steve isn’t here, he can’t stop you or tease you, so you decide to go straight to the point where you want your fingers to be.

You start rubbing your clit, making you moan harder in to the phone. You get a little growl in return and hear a smacking sound in the background. He’s jerking himself off. And you can hear it. It turns you on so vividly, making you moan out loud once more.

A finger enters in you and hurriedly goes in and out of you, a second quickly joins. You close your eyes and let your head hit the armrest. In your head, you try to imagine it’s Steve, but it doesn’t even feel close to him. His fingers are bigger, rougher, better.

“Steve..”, you moan, letting him know you’re thinking about him.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re such a dirty girl. Are you going to come for me?” The slapping sound on the other line is now harder and quicker. It’s such a filthy sound, echoing through the room. You can only imagine what he looks like right now. Eyes full of lust, legs spread a little, his big hand around his cock while he’s talking to you.

“Yes. Oh yes”, you say while getting your fingers out and rubbing your clit again. You can feel that you’re close. Legs are starting to shake, hips are bucking on your fingers.

“I- I’m gonna come, sir, I wanna come. I need you to come, please, come with me”, you ramble fast. It’s a miracle Steve understood what you said and he answers quickly.

“I’m gonna-“ He doesn’t even finish his sentence. It’s the last thing you need to be send over the edge. A pleasure explodes all over your body, moans coming out of your mouth. Steve’s moaning as well, your name falling of his lips. It makes your orgasm a bit more powerful, but nowhere near the feeling when the two of you are having sex.

You both slowly come down from your orgasms, both breathing heavily in to the phone, not saying a word to each other. The first who says something is Steve, after a solid minute of silence. “Did you like that, honey?”

“Yes, I did. I never expected you to…”, you don’t finish your sentence, but he knows what you mean. “I might be an old man, but I’m in for adventures. Especially if they’re as great as those.”

You chuckle and clamp the soft blanket around you again. “I really miss you, though”, you say with a bit of sadness in your voice. There’s a small sigh on the other line. “I miss you too.”

“I’m sorry if I kept you from doing your work”, you admit. You were sorry, because you know how important it is what he’s doing. He’s having a hard time and you’re not making it easier with your ‘distractions’.

“Oh, don’t you dare think that an easy apology will prevent me from punishing you when I come back.”

________________________________________

Tagging few of my maingirls: (let me know if you wanna be added)

@buckysthot @tranquil--heart @thamuddagirl @cametobuyplums

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x you #reader x steve rogers #steve imagine #steve rogers fanfic

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rebellect-writes · 4 years ago

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[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I didn’t. You found me.

[b]Name:[/b] Ripley York. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b] Rip, Ripper. Yorkie. [b]Age:[/b] 37. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] 12th of April 1975. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Bisexual, though he’s more comfortable with males. [b]Occupation:[/b] Works in a bookshop in town.

[b]Animal Species:[/b] Spotted Hyena. [b]Animal Description: [/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/spotted-hyena_1.jpg[/IMG] He’s your typical spotted hyena. Standing at 3’1 at the shoulders and from snout to rump, he’s 5’5. Ripley’s not very heavy though, only weighing in at 130lbs at large. His coat’s a lot softer then it looks, though don’t get any bright ideas and try petting without asking because his strong bite is worse than his bark. [b]Do you have a hybrid/alpha form?:[/b] Nope. [b]Rank:[/b] Rogue. Will join if the group returns. [b]How long has your character been a lycanthrope?:[/b] 16 years. (Infected at age 18.) [b]Mindset:[/b] Both. [b]Power level:[/b] Beta.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Matthias Streitwieser. [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/2e2j6md.jpg[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 6’2 [i]Weight:[/i] 178lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Blue. [i]Hair:[/i] Brown. [i]Build:[/i] Average, muscled in all the right places. [i]Visible marks:[/i] He has a small black star on the inside of his right wrist, and the Chinese characters for ‘Ruby’ at the nape of his neck. Ripley also has faint bite marks along his neck and wrists that you can't really see unless you're looking close. [i]Style:[/i] Jeans, t-shirts and a thrown over jacket. Anything comfortable and practical is best. He will wear suits if he has to do so.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] [LIST] [*] He does know Greek and Spanish, and he’ll remember how to speak it in his own time. [*] He does know how to hold his own in a fight thanks to AJ helping him out. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b] Ripley’s quiet and laid back most of the time. He’s been trained to value manners so you’ll rarely hear him forget them. He’s also been known to lapse into old tricks, where he won’t speak until he’s spoken to. If someone that’s a clear alpha or Master speaks to him, he will rarely look them in the eye unless they say he can do so and it’s little things like that that make things bearable for him. The last thing that he wants is someone to rip out his throat for something he didn’t even mean to do. On saying that, that doesn’t mean he’s completely submissive when it comes to those with more power than he has. Ripley has a deep rebellious and stubborn streak that shows its face at times, mostly when he’s in a sticky situation.

Some may even say that he gets mouthy and sarcastic when this streak of his rises to the surfaces, but Ripley hasn’t honestly noticed anything different except when people give him odd looks. When he’s around people that are younger than him in power, Ripley’s a little more open about things. He likes to laugh and joke around and even though he doesn’t out right say it, he’s the type of person that will give others another chance even though they’ve burned him in the past. Trust is something special to him, There’s only a couple of people that have his trust however, at times when he’s in pain or upset, he even closes down on them to protect himself. Maybe he doesn’t open up fully, but that still doesn’t stop him from being unspeakably loyal to the people that do him a good turn.

What people don’t know is, and what Ripley doesn’t remember is that he’s got a bad side. He won’t hesitate to do something if an orders given, if that means attacking someone and drawing blood, so be it. Sometimes an order doesn’t have to be given, he’ll go on the defensive if he has to, and the offensive if he needs to, to protect himself and those around him. It’ll hurt him, sure, but half the time he doesn’t even register that pain. He doesn’t like seeing people in pain, but it’s a trigger that’s so deeply rooted in his subconscious that he jumps before he really thinks. Another thing that hasn’t shown itself is that he’s addicted to a vampires bite, craves it and has for over twelve years, will do anything to get the fix. No doubt it will show, but for now, Ripley’s just a mite emotionally retarded and no one’s complained so who knows what trouble he’ll get into.

[b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Curling up with a good book when it’s raining. [*] Being bitten by a vampire. [*] Cooking. He’s a natural in the kitchen surprisingly. [*] Being stroked in his hyena form. [*] Watching a movie when he can’t sleep. [*] Exploring Jackford when he’s not working. [/LIST][b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] When he can’t sleep because of tension headaches. [*] Drama. He can do without it. [*] Others shedding blood for no reason. [*] When he’s reprimanded. [*] Loud annoying music. [*] When he’s talked over by people but he won’t say anything. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] He knows when to keep his mouth shut and eyes on the floor. [*] Can follow orders to the letter. [*] Doesn’t let how much pain he’s in show. If he’s in pain. [*] Good at giving people a shoulder to cry on if they need it. [*] He’s got all your standard shifting abilities. [*] Keeping his inner hyena on a short leash and away from others. [*] Giving people what they want to hear most of the time. [/LIST][b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST] [*] Won’t hesitate to put himself in the line of fire for someone else. [*] Doesn’t have an alpha form. [*] Can’t repeatedly shift repeatedly in one day, the most is five times back and forth. [*] He’s a bite addict. [*] Silver. [*] Hasn’t even known a true cackle. [*] Doesn’t always tell people when things are bothering him. [/LIST][b]Family:[/b][LIST] [*] Manuel Lagana; Father, died in an RTA. [*] Lucinda York; Mother, died in an RTA. [*] Dominga Lagana; Grandmother, died of natural causes. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]

During April of 1975, one man’s life came crumbling down around his ears because of a drunken one night stand with his best friend’s younger – and underage, at the time that things got hot and heavy in the bathroom – sister. Manuel came home one evening to find Lucinda on the couch, screaming and hollering as his mother and uncle scurried around trying to stop the baby that was coming one month early. One call was all it took when his common sense kicked in at the sight of the blood, to get Lucinda to the hospital and the help the teenager deserved. Despite the few complications with the birth and the consequences that followed, the baby now named Ripley, was allowed to come home just a little over a month later with Dominga Lagana – the baby’s biological grandmother on Manuel’s side – as the legal guardian, Manny and Lucinda being more babysitters than parents.

Growing up in Leeds; Ripley felt at home in the urban wilderness and it was the only thing that he knew. Lucinda always told him that she was his mum, he believed her, and he’d seen the pictures on Dominga’s albums. What he didn’t get though was why the York’s didn’t approve. They made it known that he wasn’t wanted when Lucinda had to take him along when she went to see her brothers or parents place. In the end, the strain that Lucinda was under, forced her to dump Ripley on Manuel and Dominga more and more, much to his Grandmother’s delight. She didn’t like the prissy little white girl or the judgmental patronising parents that sneered and crossed the street when they were walking the same way as them. The tension lasted for almost three years and everyone suffered for it, Manuel tried to patch things up and show to Lucinda’s parents that he wasn’t trash and Lucinda tried to show her parents that she wasn’t a child anymore and could look after herself, it was a bit redundant really, Ripley’s mum was twenty and legally an adult capable of looking after the five year old boy with Manuel who was twenty nine at the time. Dominga didn’t like that one bit but there wasn’t much that she could do at the time but sit back and make sure they didn’t kill Ripley by mistake by giving the kid drain cleaner or something instead of milk over his cornflakes in the morning.

Even school wasn’t a big thing in Ripley’s eyes; he was in and out of it for a lot of reasons. The majority of the time though, was for medical reasons; sometimes he wasn’t there because of life at home. By the time he was fourteen years old, he’d been permanently excused from physical education due to his poor health, expelled from two schools and facing being kicked out for the third time because of his slipping grades and general attitude to authority figures in his life. Lucinda even went as far as to send him to see a therapist because of these things and it just sent Ripley spiralling down a path of rebellion and hate to for the world around him. In fact, the only time he really seemed at peace was when he was with Granny Dominga’s dogs and the old gal used that to her advantage. He didn’t go to college, there was no point. Education wasn’t really something he’d excelled at and he didn’t want to stay at home for the rest of his life, so when Granny Dominga offered him a place to stay and work in her small greasy spoon cafe, he snapped it up and moved in with her. It really wasn’t that exciting afterwards; he lived with his Gran and saw his mum and dad every other day when they stopped by after their shifts at work. Basically, it was a rinse and repeat life and that suited him fine.

Fine, until just after his eighteenth birthday. His parents had ‘kidnapped’ him away for the day to have some good old fashioned bonding time; the truck that hit them came out of nowhere. One minute Ripley had been groaning about Britney Spears on the radio and the next there was chaos and the world was spinning as the car was pushed off the motorway and then there was simply silence. Lucinda and Manuel had been pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital and Ripley was rushed into surgery for multiple internal injuries and head trauma. He didn’t even know that his parents had died until he came around a couple of days later, and he’d had to plead with his Gran to find out what had happened to them. It was a shock, something that shocked him to his core because no matter how much of a brat he’d been to them growing up, he’d still loved them.

No one bothered to inform him, that the blood that had been used during one of several transfusions had been contaminated with lycanthropy. Maybe no one knew, but that was the hand that he was dealt. It probably would have been better if he’d know though, while he was healing up, because the following full moon after a particular nasty bought of the flu – or at least what he thought was the flu, little did he know that his body was changing and if he had, he’d have probably mad a joke about puberty hitting twice. – Ripley was locking up the cafe for the night and the hyena made itself known. It ripped its way out of him and destroyed the cafe when it found there was nothing to eat. The morning, once the animal had gone back, Ripley woke up in the remains of the cafe, sore and confused but feeling better than he had done in weeks, didn’t have a clue that he’d turned into a hyena though. When Dominga demanded to know what had happened, he told her that someone had broken in and trashed the place and that it had probably been a junkie looking for a fix.

The following weeks became a blur, more rinsing and repeating until one evening he felt an unmistakeable pull to just leave work. Just like that. There was no warning, no nothing. He just felt the need to go. He walked across the city to some seedy back alley dive that was home to all the drunken scum of the nation, or well, the city if you wanted to be technical. Defiantly not his place, and from the few others that were milling about that he noticed didn’t fit in, not theirs either. He found out exactly what was up though when they came in, lanky crew, pale, avoided mirrors and standing directly under lights, looked like the supporting act for the guys that did the YMCA. For a moment Ripley had thought that he was being set up by his friends, because bikers with fangs? Really? It was so wrong. So out there, so unnatural, and yet so normal all at the same time, and it just made Rip curious and scared for what was happening next. The crazy red headed chick in the corner that was cackling and stroking a flipping big hyena was even more out there and put the fear of God into him.

Ripley York never came home that day and wasn’t seen by his Gran again.

He was dragged down to Cardiff with the vampires and the red headed bint with a few of the other guys that had ended up in the bar with him. Mistress Ruby – the self proclaimed Queen of the merry little band – told them what was happening, how he’d service the vampires just like the others that had come to her call. Ripley refused and started mouthing off, and so he was punished. Ruby ripped his inner beast out repeatedly before forcing it back over the space of three days. Then Theodore – the king of the band, a big guy that could’ve snapped Ripley over his thigh for disobedience – decided that that wasn’t enough and decided he wanted a taste, and a taste he got and then some. Just like the rest of the rogue band that called the Hyena Queen and Vampire Master their leader because to them, Ripley and the hyenas that had been Called where nothing but animals meant to be used in anyway their Masters saw fit. Theodore didn’t just have hyenas at his beck and call, there were other shifters as well that were pets to the thirteen vampires that he ruled, while he was a rotting vampire, there were Belle Morte rogues and fear masters and beast masters to boot and each and every one of them where young enough to be a power to be reckoned with and still hate the way that the vampire council did things.

Over the next twelve years, between Ruby and Theodore the young hyena started to lose himself. The rebellion and need to fight what was happening to him died, painfully and slowly, but it did die. Gone were the days he had to go around wearing a collar and on the end of a leash and had to be escorted by one of Ruby’s older and more treasured pets. He was no longer handcuffed to the bed of some two-bit vampire Rogue. He was allowed to come and go as he pleased, because they had something he needed, something he craved so badly that he broke out into cold sweats, shakes and shivers. He craved them. Needed them just like the air he breathed some nights that he would go down on his knees and beg to be bitten. It wasn’t always easy either; Ripley would have to do things that he didn’t want to do but did it anyway. Mistress Ruby explained it one time when she’d been waiting for Theodore to wake, she told him that it was them simply asking for a favour because they’d given him a gift.

That wasn’t to say that it was all doom and gloom, despite his current situation, Ripley made friends. One such friend was Sissy. It wasn’t exactly a fun evening for the both of them. Ruby and Theo’s second in command dragged him along to a local tattoo parlour that had a decent reputation in the inked circles. The Mistress wanted something new and exciting, and the vampire and Rip were only sent along as bodyguards for the crazy bitch. Ripley wouldn’t have done anything if the beast master male hadn’t taken a shine to the girl, oh he’d seen her, she’d been chatting with an artist or something, but the vampire took an instant dislike to her for some reason. The artist was rolled, mentally told to forget that they’d ever existed as the vampire went after Sissy. Ripley was left with Ruby and boy, did he want to help the girl.

The moment blood was drawn; he had an idea and turned to the bitch queen that had sat giggling the whole time. He bargained for her safety, offering Ruby anything she wanted in return. Liking that idea, Ruby pulled the beast master off the red headed girl, and after checking on Sissy to make sure that she was ok, Ripley turned to get what was coming his way. All she asked was that he get a tattoo of her choice in return for the girls life and safety, Ripley didn’t even question it and let the Mistress do what she wanted, sat through the rolled tattoo artist branding him with the Chinese characters for ‘Ruby’ at the nape of his neck, after his Mistress and the beast master got theirs. Theodore never noticed that his servant and queen had left her permanent mark on another man, if he had then they would have destroyed the parlour, killed Sissy and the artist that had done their work, instead they stayed in town, the vampires and shifters coming and going as they got new ink and Ripley got to know Sissy a bit more.

Eventually the group moved on to a place called Jackford at the back end of 2010; they rolled into town and found that there was so much chaos they could create. They didn’t have to do anything; there was no time because Ruby, during a Christmas shopping break, was smacked down by a blonde harpy. The Oba of Jackford didn’t like another in her territory and she made that clear when she drew first blood, Ripley had grinned at that, seeing the scarlet streaks down on freckled cheek. Ruby didn’t have time to defend herself, and even if she had, Theo was the ruler and he declared no one was to help and Ruby was furious. She gave it all she had, but on her own with no vampires or hyenas to help her, Petra Graves whooped her skanky ass fair and square then told the rest of the mob to take Ruby and leave her town. Theodore was fairly reasonable, as an Old World gentleman at heart, he agreed and they made plans to leave though he requested a little time from Petra because it was Christmas. His logic being that it would be their first proper Christmas together and sadly, Petra agreed.

Over the next three months, the rogue band drifted apart. There’d been moments when Ripley had wondered if he could just slip away and make a run for the Kiss that had been reconstructing itself from the ground up. However he didn’t have to. In February, one of Ruby’s other pets made a big fuss about not being marked in front of Theodore of all creatures. Ruby, desperate to shut the idiot up, snapped his neck but it was too late for that. Theo had heard enough and dragged Ripley close to check and sure enough, the Master saw the tattoo was there. Theodore crushed Ripley’s throat and tossed him aside like trash to die in the gutter, before dragging his whore-queen off to deal with her. The two hyenas bodies where left in a semi completed housing estate, but that wasn’t the end of them, nobodies in a sea of silence.

Ripley should have died, except he didn’t. The male had no idea what had happened but one moment he was choking and struggling for air that wasn’t there and then the next it was daylight and he was blinking up at the faces of two werewolves that called the Fun House home. One of the wolves, Eric, had ripped Ripley’s inner beast out to try and save him and it had worked, mostly. As a result from the event, Rip didn’t know what had happened, who they where, where he was. Nothing at all except his name, and the flashes that he gets sometimes when he’s stressed, he hasn’t spoken of them to anyone at all. So here he is, in Jackford, a ward of the kiss and still a nobody.[/SIZE]

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i-am-here-with-fanfic · 5 years ago

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It was going to happen either way (All Might x Reader) Chapter 1/5

I have a few things to. say: I wrote this story last year (2018) because I was feeling down, I just remembered that it existed in my note app. A few songs were inspired, I will linked them down below, just beware that they are in Spanish, which is why I provided the english lyrics.

~~~

Your dream became a reality.

You became the number 1 musician in the world, with tickets being sold out every time you had a concert to sing at. Your quirk was Empathy, and you used your quirk with the music you made. Being a hero was something you always wanted to be, inspired by the all mighty All Might. Something about him made you happy and his warming grin was it.

But you failed, not having a powerful quirk you knew that you were destined to become a hero but it didn't come to you what until you listened to music. When you were happy, you listened to the music but when you were sad, you listened to the lyrics and it was so weird how music could do that to you, in relating to the music, feeling the emotions.

At age 17, you were given a guitar by your grandpa who was a less popular guitarist and he taught you how to play

In the family reunions, you sang for your family. You let the strumming of your guitar and the lyrics reached into their hearts and understand your message. If it was a happy song, they would get happy. If it was sad, they would get sad. It was a way for you to show your realism ideology to people and you were discovered by a music agency. You were in a hero program, not U.A. because of your lack of combat skills but a program to gain knowledge of heroism. You didn't mind it wasn't U.A. but it was a longshot. You worked hard to graduate with honors and to work in the music agency. You met Present Mic there because of his Mic quirk and you were just intrigued of it. The agency was a hero agency but it also provided music production. You met a lot of people who had instrumental quirks, like a Bass Drum that used his belly to produce the ugliest and the most beautiful bong. The ugliest cause villains to be in pain in their ear drum, the beautiful part was used in the band.

You were the only one that did not have an instrumental quirk but the first one to use your quirk in music that can help people.

In the recording booth, you sat on the chair and when signaled, began singing:

If only you had told me

The truth always

If only you responded to my calls

If only you loved me when I loved you

You would've been in my dreams as the best man

If you didn't know how to love, now is the time to march!

If only you had known what I suffered for you

Having to forget you without knowing why

And now you call, you want to see me

You vowed you changed and think of returning.

Get away from me, there's nothing left to talk about.

With you I lost, now I have someone to win.

And that, was the start of your music career.

The women and even men understood your music, the breakups that lead to crying only made them stronger in finding relationships. Girls would send you fan-mail about them forgetting their ex and finding someone who truly change their life for better and you would respond. That was when your fans were from 200 to 300.

Now, you would send videos of your respond as you read comments from your phone along with your boyfriend (named Hiroki Tsuki, who was number 2 in music), thanking them and responding to the questions. You were kind-hearted, emotional, sympathetic and golden-hearted. With his popularity, you went up to rank 3 but you didn't care since you were blinded by the love you received from him, when you alone and out in public.

In the interviews, you were asked who inspired you to go to the music industry and you responded with:

"I've always wanted to be a hero, and it was every hero that would push me further into having some kind of cool quirk, saving people, making sure they have the best life they can enjoy. But one hero in specific gave me that hope to continue...All Might. When I was given the results and rejected by U.A., I didn't let it affect me, because All Might's smile...he, in some way was giving me this sense of "Don't give up, there's something for you, you just have to search for it"."

You sounded so dreamily, as if he was your prince charming and you were 20 when you gave that answer.

In another interview, you were surprised to see All Might walk out of the curtains in his hero costume. In person, he was incredibly handsome, and the smile you admired for so many years, was bright with hope.

The host of the show made you two play a game after the interview to give entertainment for the audience. The premise here is simple. You square off against a friend in a game of blackjack. The person who loses each hand gets, well, a hand — to the face. And, really, what's more fun than slapping someone with giant prosthetic digits? Playing with All Might who was the inspiration of the giant, foamy hands was a lot of fun and you two were enjoying the game more than expected. He would laugh so heartedly when you had to place the giant hand on his face and you stifled your laughs every time he did it to you.

After it was over, you were inspired to write a song, called "Give you a Kiss." that left people with pleads and theories that you two were dating and your boyfriend jealous.

The lyrics that made so many "(All Might x y/n ship-name)" fans born and take over the internet was:

"To love you how I love you is complicated

Thinking how I think of you is a sin

To look at you like I do is prohibited

Touch you how I want to is a crime

Now I don't know what to do

For you to be okay

To turn off the sun to light up your smile

Speak in Portuguese

Learn to talk French

Or bring the moon to your feet

I only want to give you a kiss

And give you my mornings

Sing to calm your fears

I want you to not miss a thing."

When that was published, you were ranked number 1 from fans' support and the music productions.

That was also when hell was at your doorstep. You were eating with your boyfriend in a restaurant, you peacefully and he was tensed. You noticed but you didn't want to ask, he was like this for a long time and you were afraid of him hurting you with words. You gulped softly and risked it all, just so you can get it out of the way, "What's wrong, Tsuki?"

You sounded so calm, you wanted to let him know that you wanted to talk about it and he took it the wrong way. Even your quirk didn't work on him. He was too prideful and too angry, his emotions controlled him.

The next thing you didn't expect and it felt like it was going slow when you saw him push the table away, causing many gasps and screams to appear. You sat there, in shock and you saw a beast right across you.

"YOURE CHEATING ON ME ARENT YOU?! WITH THAT STUPID HERO, ALL MIGHT!! ARENT YOU?!"

You were humiliated but you continued to sit there, "I'm not...you should know this Tsuki...You read all my messages, I know how Open I am..."

He scoffs, his eyes going red. His quirk was mood. His eyes change color by which mood he was, now you really knew he was mad and he was capable of hurting you and others but you sat there in shock, not knowing what to do. His target was you, that you knew.

"YES, I KNOW HOW OPEN YOU ARE." And he chuckles, "I WAS THE ONE WHO OPENED YOU UP!!!"

You felt tears go down your cheeks, you couldn't believe your ears. He was betraying you and humiliating you further.

"DID "HE" OPEN YOU UP MORE? HUH?! DID YOU OPEN UP FOR HIM?!"

"YOU IDIOT!" You cried out, looking down a bit. "YOU IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT!!!" Paparazzis were taking pictures and videos of the incident. Some people were already recording.

You cried, hoping someone was going to save you and you silently prayed for someone to save you and it was your security. Police arrived and pushed the paparazzi out of the way and held down Tsuki to take him to jail for public destruction in the restaurant.

You were taken to your house and you called the agency to cancel your tours and interviews. You were in your house for 2 months crying and screaming. Paparazzi tried to get you vulnerable but you were completely isolated, thanks to your security, it was very likely you can cry in peace.

You watched TV, news about the scene that ocurred. The humiliation that made you go through and to start blaming on All Might.

"If he hadn't been in the host show, Tsuki wouldnt have been jealous."

"You stupid All Might fans, is this what you support? The violence that had to go through the greatest couple in the world? Stop this Ship now!!"

You were infuriated that they do that when he had no relation to it. You haven't posted on social media in that time frame, you haven't even turned on your phone to avoid calls and messages until now.

You opened up your laptop and read every message. Many called you vulgar names, some gave you inspiring messages, that it was going to end soon, that was going to be okay. Someone even gave you the link to your first song. The song that started all. The song of betrayal and going forward. Your mind took control and made you look at the TV screen, to see a sad host older woman of the show.

"...I will risk my own life, my own job just to say this in front of the cameras and I hope your watching this (y/n). And I hope you ungrateful people watch this. I am a quirkless human, I have a family. (Y/n) had a terrible day and you defending the awful Hiroki tsuki is worse than being called a criminal. What has she done to him? To you? You remember how she started? By singing from her heart, from her emotions. To let you know that you are not alone and through her music to help you move on. After this ocurred, what did you do?" She was glaring at the camera, her fist clenched. You cried silently as you heard her defend you. You released your quirk, for kilometers so everyone can feel what you felt. The pure sadness that erupted from you. You saw the lady on TV stop glaring and her eyes start tearing up. " I know I'm not the only feeling that...you guys feel that? She's sad!! She sad for what you made! SHE MADE MUSIC FOR YOU, TO HELP YOU RECOVER AND NOW THAT THIS HAPPEN, WHO IS GOING TO BE THERE FOR HER?! WELL, I AM HERE! (Y/N), I AM HERE!!!"

Your quirk was on for more than two minutes and such power made you bleed through your mouth, coughing out a bit and when hearing that from her, you smiled small and that emotion travelled through the people until it got to the woman again. She relaxed a bit and smiled softly.

"Let me in honey...please...my sweet daughter...let me be there for you." As she let the tears roll down her face. There was a sense of hope, until you felt a quick pain in your head from a whack that immediately stopped your quirk to function as you fell unconsciously on the fell and the man in the shadows, with maroon eyes glared at you.

He punched the wall and that caused the news and paparazzi to look over at your house. To see you in your white pajamas being taken by someone fast. He laughed for a short while he taken you somewhere.

#toshinori yagi #all might #bnha #bnha toshinori #mha toshinori #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #toshinori x reader #original story

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rosemaidenvixen · 5 years ago

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A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 2: Jim

Ao3

Jim stood at the entrance to Arcadia Oaks high school, feet rooted to the ground. He really didn’t want to go inside.

After sobbing in the car for no less than a solid hour last Thursday he and his mom had gone home to spend the rest of the day crying off and on and fighting back abject misery. Next morning things weren't much better, Jim had stood at the front door for nearly twenty minutes, lunch and book bag in hand, trying to find the will to force himself to go outside and bike to school. In the end his mom had found him like that and called him out sick again. Jim ended up spending Friday hanging out in the staff lounge at the clinic visiting with his mom on her breaks.

The entire time he had avoided Toby and only communicated with him through vague texts, dreading giving him an actual explanation for all of this.

On Saturday Toby had forced the issue and showed up at his house in person. He hadn’t said anything, just held up a DVD of the Great British Baking show in one hand and an extra gande size bag of tacos in the other.

If he hadn’t been completely emotionally wrung out by that point Jim would have cried.

One weekend later that brought him here, Monday morning, getting ready to go in and face the social fallout of bursting into tears in the middle of the school. Jim wasn’t so naive as to think that there wouldn’t be any. And to add a cherry on top of the disaster sundae that today was sure to be, Toby had to go to the orthodontist and wouldn’t get here until lunch. Meaning Jim was going to be facing the tender mercies of his peers alone.

His gut twisted, if things were hard at school before, they were about to get even harder.

But no matter how bad this was going to be, no matter how much crap Steve and every other jerk in school was going to give him; going to in and facing the music, even without Toby’s support, was better than spending a long day alone in his house.

Anything was better than that.

Sucking in a final deep breath, Jim steeled himself and walked inside.

Mercifully, he didn’t run into any trouble getting to his locker and making his way through the halls. But Jim knew better than to let that get his hopes up. Resisting the urge to hightail it to the other side of town, or preferably even further than that, Jim walked up to first period algebra and pushed the door open.

Ms. Janeth wasn’t here yet, but more than half of the students already were. Sitting and standing around talking while they waited for class to start. The creak of the door opening caused the buzz of conversation to dim and several people to turn and stare in his direction. Which was perfectly normal, that’s just what people did when someone came into the room, they weren’t staring at him in particular. Although some of them held their gazes long enough to make him start doubting that.

Jim made his way to his desk in silence. Just when he was about to sit down, someone’s palm made contact with the back of his head, and not gently.

He spun around on reflex, only to come face to face with his absolute least favorite person in the world.

“I’m surprised that you’re willing to show your face around here again Lake ,” Steve said with a nasty smirk “We don’t usually let crybabies come to the big kid school, but if you really want to stick around, I’m sure we can find some diapers for you,”

Jim glowered, cheeks burning, but said nothing as he slid into his desk. From all around him came snickering and whispers of ‘Crybaby Lake’.

Less than half an hour in and things were already going to hell. Great, just great.

Fortunately Ms. Janeth came in less than a minute later, putting an end to the murmurs and giggles. Class was relatively normal, Ms. Janeth lecturing on algebra and working through problems while Jim tried to force himself to pay attention.

Even though he wasn’t going to make anything of himself after high school so there was no damn point to studying algebra so what was the point of even trying anymore.

An hour of algebra later the bell rang, signalling for everyone to pack up and head to the next class. Jim had stuffed his papers into his bag and stood up out of his desk when Ms. Janeth stepped over to him.

“Jim, could I have a word with you?”

He froze, a teacher had never approached him like this before, meaning that this was no doubt a direct result of his public meltdown last week “Uh...ok,”

She waited until everyone else had left the room, some of his classmates lingering and glancing back at them not so discreetly as they went through the door.

Once they were alone she spoke up against, voice soft “Is everything... alright with you?”

At first Jim wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly. Was he alright? A common, innocent question. One that had him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

Alright.

He was on house arrest every night, doomed to become an unemployed recluse after school was over, and one day he would die old, friendless, and alone. Of course that was all assuming no one figured out his secret and shipped him off to be alien autopsied.

Jim was pretty much as goddamn far from alright as a person could.

He forced a smile “Yeah I’m good,”

Ms. Janeth frowned, apparently Jim wasn’t very convincing “Well if you ever do have any...issues, I’m here to help,”

Jim mumbled out a thank you before making a hasty retreat and scampering off to his next class.

Health and Spanish class were much of the same; sideways stares and whispers from his classmates, and Coach Lawrence and Señor Uhl pulling him aside afterwards to ask if everything was ok and tell him that they could help or just listen if he ever needed it.

You know you’ve hit rock bottom when even Señor Uhl takes pity on you.

Finally, after the longest morning of his entire life, lunch period came.

Jim cycled through his breathing exercises as he headed into the cafeteria, stomach growling. He hadn't packed a lunch this morning; just getting up and getting dressed had been utterly draining. Even waiting in line to buy some french fries sounded unbearably exhausting. Guess that meant he was skipping today. Steve had a different lunch period, so at the very least Jim would be able to get a break from him.

So far school was still better than being home alone, but not by much.

He took a seat at an unoccupied cafeteria table and pulled out his phone, hopefully the new Go-go Sushi app could take his mind off of things for a bit. Jim had been at it for about ten minutes and burned through four out of five lives when Toby showed up at his table, catching him completely off guard, over an hour early and carrying a large pizza box.

“I figured Chef Jim could use a break,” Toby beamed at him as he set the box down onto the table “So for the next five days, you let me worry about lunch,”

Jim was stunned and more than a little touched “Tobes you--”

“Up up up,” Toby held up a hand “Sorry Jimbo, I’m not taking no for an answer, you’re just going to have to get used to take out a la Toby for the rest of the week,”

Tears brimmed at the edge of Jim’s vision, he blinked rapidly to dispel them before they could fall. Toby had been his rock throughout the entire disaster that was his life, never prying or asking questions, always there with cheerful support and comfort. He was the greatest friend Jim could ever have.

It was going to hurt so so much when Toby went to college and left him behind.

“Thanks Tobes,”

Toby took a seat next to him and opened the box “Anytime,”

Jim reached in and grabbed the closest slice, Toby following suit. It wasn’t until he took the first bite that he realized just how hungry he was.

They’d been chewing their wonderfully greasy pizza in silence for a few minutes when Jim saw someone approach their table from the corner of his eye. Of course, today just had to be one of those days when Seamus decided to bother them without Steve acting as the muscle. He swallowed his mouthful of pizza and snapped his head up to tell Seamus to get lost only to freeze.

A girl with blue streaked dark hair stood in front of him.

It was Claire.

The Claire.

The girl who’d been in his dreams ever since that fundraiser last February.

“Hi,” she said with a small smile.

Jim’s heart fluttered. Claire was talking to him.

“Oh...hi,”

“How are things?”

Jim, fumbled, trying to remember how to put words together “Oh, uh...things are...good...I guess,”

Claire tugged at the edge of her jacket “So me, Mary, and Darci really liked the macarons you shared with us,”

The memory flickered behind his eyes, Toby snatching the cookies he had made the night before and sharing them with Claire and her friends in order to ‘make a good first impression’.

Had that only happened a week ago?

“So to say thank you...we were wondering, maybe, if you guys want to go to the county fair with us with us this weekend?”

Jim’s mouth went dry. Of all things he expected to happen his first day back, this was not one of them “The county fair? I, uh….”

“No pressure, think about it for a bit,” she piped up, voice half an octave higher “Let me know what you decide,”

She scurried off, gone just as quickly as she had come.

Jim was still trying to restart his brain when he felt Toby elbow him in the side “ Oh my gosh! Claire just totally asked you out!”

“What? No, you heard her, it’s a group thing, you’re invited to,”

“Po-ta-to po-tah-to, I know what it looks like when a girl’s been bitten by the love bug. You’re going to tell her yes, right?”

“I...don’t know,”

An hour later Jim was sitting in history class half listening to Mr. Strickler’s lecture, still turning Claire’s offer over and over in his mind.

A week ago, he would have said yes in a millisecond, but that was before. Thoughts of Claire still made him blush, but what could she possibly see in him? Claire had to know about Jim’s breakdown, why would she want anything to do with him? She’d said that it was a thank you to him and Toby for the macarons. But macrons wouldn’t outweigh a public crying fit. Maybe this was just a pity offer in disguise.

Jim’s stomach knotted up as an ever worse idea took shape. Maybe this whole county fair thing was just a way to trick him and humiliate him even more.

But Claire wouldn’t do that, would she?

A wadded up piece of paper hit him in the back of the head, derailing his train of thought. Jim grimaced and tried to ignore it, two more wads of paper and that became impossible.

Glancing back, Jim saw Steve smirking at him, he then pretended to rub his balled up hand against his eye, doing a bad pantomime of someone crying, Seamus and Logan snickered and high fived him behind his back.

Jim bit back a slew of choice four letter words and turned forward again, from a few seats ahead and to the right he could see Toby shoot him a sympathetic glance.

Seriously, could Steve just not for one hour of their lives? Jim had enough on his plate as it was.

Class seemed to drag on forever, but finally the bell rang and the students started filing out, Jim lingered, packing up his bag with deliberate slowness. Toby waited by the door, but Jim waved him on. He hesitated, clearly uncertain, before walking away, giving Jim one final lingering glance.

Mr. Strickler was cleaning off the blackboard, he hadn’t noticed that Jim was still here. Jim cautiously stepped to the front of the classroom, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head shouting to get out before he made things awkward and weird. Before he could act on that instinct, Mr. Strickler finally noticed him loitering.

He turned and smiled “Ah Jim, normally I would ask if you need something, but I assume every other teacher you’ve had so far has given you some variation the same question. I’m curious, how did Señor Ulh’s offer of assistance go?”

Involuntarily, the corners of Jim’s mouth quirked up, the expression feeling almost foreign on his face. A smile. The first genuine one in days.

Somehow Mr. Strickler had known the exact right thing to say to make him feel just a tiny bit better, in spite of everything.

None of the teachers here were bad, but Mr. Strickler was the one who had pulled Jim up off the floor last week, brought him to his office, let him cry until he was semi functional again, called his mom to take him home.

Maybe it was irrational, but Jim trusted him just a little bit more.

“Actually...there was something I wanted to ask you,”

Mr. Strickler stopped what he was doing, putting down the rag and turning to face him fully “What seems to be the issue?”

“Well...you see, it’s…” Jim struggled to translate the gnarled knot of emotions into words “There’s this girl,”

“A girl?”

“Yeah, and she wants me and Toby to go hang out with her and her friends,”

One of Mr. Strickler’s eyebrows quirked up “And you don’t wish to do this?”

“Yes-- I mean no! I mean, I do want to, but I just...” Jim trailed off helplessly.

“You know this girl and her friends, correct?”

“We’ve...met,”

“And does the idea of spending time with them sound fun?”

Jim thought about it for a few seconds before swallowing hard and nodding.

Mr. Strickler gave a wry smile and picked up a pen from his desk, “I think I might know what your problem is,”

“You do?” even Jim wasn’t sure what his problem was.

“It sounds to me that you would like very much to go on this outing, but you’re intimidated by the idea of putting yourself out there with new people and terrified that something will go wrong,”

“That...sounds right,” Jim mumbled, he was embarrassed about having it laid out like that, but at the same time he was glad Strickler was able to explain what Jim couldn’t find the words for.

“So...I should tell her yes?”

Mr. Strickler chuckled “I think you should do whatever feels best for you. Keep in mind, while there is a certain amount of risk involved with making a change and opening yourself to new people, as a great man once said, t here can be no life without change, and to be afraid of what is different or unfamiliar is to be afraid of life ,”

Jim’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He struggled to keep his face blank.

If Mr. Strickler noticed Jim’s sudden change in mood he didn’t comment on it, merely capped the pen and slipped it into his pocket “And if I may be so bold, I think you could benefit greatly from a deviation in your routine,”

Mr. Strickler didn’t know, he couldn’t have meant the words that way, but hearing them cut Jim to the bone.

There can be no life without change.

A life trapped in his house, a life of slogging through the same old routine just because he didn’t know what else to do. Powerless to alter his inevitable future.

Jim balled his fingers into fists so the trembling wouldn’t be too obvious. His life wasn’t all doom and gloom, but Jim had gotten to the point where even the best things about his life, Mom and Toby, could barely keep him going.

He wanted more.

To be able to live free from secrecy and fear, to spend just one night of his life outside his house with other people. To be able to have an actual future.

But Jim wasn’t going to get that. No matter how badly he wanted it.

He took a deep breath to steady himself, Mr. Strickler’s words buzzing around in his skull.

A deviation from the routine.

Claire’s face flashed in his mind.

Jim wasn’t going to get what he wanted, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have more.

Mr. Strickler was right, there was a risk, a huge risk. But the potential for something different, something new, was worth it. Even if it wouldn’t change anything long term.

“That makes sense,” Jim hefted his bag over his shoulder “I think I know what I need to do now,” he started hurrying towards the door, if he was quick he could meet up with Claire and give her an answer before next period “Thanks Mr. Strickler,”

Mr. Strickler waved back as Jim walked away “I’m glad I could be of some help,”

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #a secret's worth #fanfic #jim lake jr #steve palchuk #toby domzalski #claire nuñez #walter strickler #rmvwrites

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nevermindthewind · 7 years ago

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eight days a week, i love you

Or, eight obscure times Amy Santiago fell in love with Jake Peralta all over again.

Amy heard the music before she even reached the apartment door.

It was upbeat, sugary. If she had to guess she’d say Taylor Swift, in either her Speak Now or Red era.

On top of the music was a male voice (albeit not a very good one) singing right along with Taylor at the top of his lungs.

A smile crept onto her face as she reached the door, not even bothering to knock. He’d have never heard it anyway.

“Babe?” Amy called as she opened the door, only to be greeted by Mine (album version, obviously) blasting through Jake’s way-too-fancy speakers. She didn’t know if she should be proud or embarrassed that she knew the exact TSwift song he was playing. She chose to be proud.

Stepping out of her shoes, Amy rounded the corner only to find Jake alone in the kitchen, holding a wooden spoon up to his mouth as he screamed along with the song.

“Do you remember we were sitting there on the water...”

He was turned away from her, jumping up and down and shaking his butt from side to side with each word. It was quite possibly the most adorable thing Amy had ever seen.

“You put your arm around me...FOR THE FIRST TIME…”

Her hand came up to her mouth, unable to contain her giggles any longer.

“...You made a rebel of a careful man’s careful daughter…”

Amy slid off her purse and coat, setting them on the floor with a thud. The sound caused Jake to finally turn around. His eyes lit up, but he didn’t stop dancing or singing. Instead, he jumped over to the counter, grabbed a rogue ladle and handed it to Amy. She gladly accepted the makeshift microphone as he pulled her to the center of the kitchen and spun her around the room.

“You are the best thing that’s ever been MINEEEEE.”

If you had asked Amy what she and Jake would be doing for their six month anniversary, it would most definitely not have included her being blindfolded in the back of a town car.

“Jake, where are you taking me?” she asked for what felt like the millionth time.

“You’ll find out soooon!” Jake sang out to her left.

Amy to let out a frustrated groan.

“I swear to god Peralta if you don’t take this blindfold off of me…”

“‘I swear to god Peralta if you don’t take this blindfold off of me’ title of our sex tape,” Jake interjected, earning him a punch to the shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he said with a laugh. “But seriously, we’re like thirty seconds away.”

And sure enough, Amy felt the car begin to slow before coming to complete stop.

“Can I get out now?”

“Patience, young Padawan.”

She heard the click of his seatbelt, followed by his door opening and shutting. Amy began to feel around for her own door handle, wanting to take matters into her own hands, but before she could get very far the door was opened for her, causing her to practically fall out the side of the car.

“Easy there, Ames,” said Jake as he took her hand and guided her out the door. Once she was out, he let go of her hand and began to untie the blindfold. “Ready?”

Amy nodded, and Jake pulled the blindfold away to reveal the front of the New York Public Library.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The library?” Amy asked. “But it’s closed now.”

“To most people, yes,” Jake said. “But tonight, we are not most people.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake smiled as he slipped his hand back into hers.

“I mean tonight, we are Library VIPs who get to spend the night sleeping amongst the finest literary masterpieces the world has to offer.”

Amy’s jaw dropped.

“Shut up,” she exclaimed. “SHUT UP!”

“I will not,” Jake replied, his smile widening at Amy’s response.

Amy was practically vibrating with excitement. “This is AMAZING. Oh my god, we really get to sleep in one of the five most important libraries in the country? Sixteen-year-old Amy would be peeing herself right now! Thirty-three-year-old Amy is pretty close herself.”

“Thirty-three-year-old Amy is also a giant nerd,” said Jake, but he was laughing.

“Yeah she is,” Amy agreed. “But she still managed to find the best boyfriend ever!”

She gave Jake a quick kiss before dragging him up the stairs and into the library, where they spent the night running through the hallowed halls and looking at every artifact and book Amy could get her hands on.

III

Amy woke up from a cramp-induced nap one Saturday to a string of texts from a very distressed Jake.

6:12pm

Help I’m in the tampon aisle and I have no idea what to buy.

6:13pm

Ames. SOS.

6:16pm

Ammmyyyyyyyyyy

6:17pm

Ok people are looking at me. They must think I’m a giant weirdo.

6:18pm

There’s super, light, cardboard, plastic, non-applicator...HOW ARE THERE SO MANY CHOICES?!

6:20pm

If you don’t respond in the next two minutes I’m buying them all.

6:22pm

THESE ARE SO EXPENSIVE OH MY GOD.

6:22pm

This makes zero sense. You literally need them?? Why do you have to pay so much for something that half the population needs?! I don’t understand.

6:23pm

Ah HA there’s a multipack. I’m getting that. If it doesn’t have what you need I’ll return them. Can you return tampons?

6:27pm

I got mint chocolate chip ice cream too. The good kind with brownie bits. Be home in 15. Xoxo

Amy had just finished up her last piece of paperwork and was getting ready slip her coat on and head home.

“Babe, you ready?” she asked Jake, who was playing on his phone with his headphones in.

“Huh?” he said, looking up in surprise. He pulled out one of the earbuds. “What’d you say?”

“I asked if you were ready to go,” Amy repeated. She stood up swiftly and went to look at Jake’s phone. “Whatcha playing?”

But rather than showing her the screen, Jake yanked the phone out away from her.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

Amy raised her eyebrows. “For being a detective you sure are a crappy liar. Show me the screen.”

She lunged for the phone, but Jake once again moved it out of her reach.

“No can do,” said Jake, dangling the phone above Amy’s head.

“Come on, Peralta. Show it to me!”

“Nope.”

He stood up, holding the phone even higher out of her reach.

“Ha HA!” You’ll never get it now,” he said with a cackle.

“That’s what you think,” Amy said as she lunged for his sides and squeezed. Jake let out a very high pitched scream and immediately dropped the phone into Amy’s outreached hand.

“HA!” she cried triumphantly. “Now let’s see what you were --”

Amy’s voice trailed off the moment she clicked open the phone. On the screen were a variety of household objects each with the matching Spanish word underneath them. She looked up to see Jake with hand on his head, clearly embarrassed.

“What is this?” Amy asked, the corner of her mouth twitching up into a smile.

“It’s a language app,” he explained. “Rosa told me about it a couple of weeks ago.”

“I see that,” she said as she looked through the app. “Why do you have it?”

“Because,” Jake said with a shrug. “You speak Spanish. And I know how much you miss speaking it when you’re not at home. I figured I might as well learn a bit. I was kinda going to surprise you on our anniversary,” he added with a sheepish grin.

“Jake…” she started. Her smile widened as she stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure I did,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. “It’s important to you so it’s important to me, too.”

“You’re amazing,” she sighed, her heart swelling as she gave him a gentle kiss. “Can I hear some of it?”

“Ah…” Jake gave a nervous laugh. “I’m not very good yet.”

“That’s okay!” Amy gave him an encouraging smile. “I won’t judge.”

Jake thought for a moment before returning her smile.

“Te quiero tanto.”

Amy’s heart swelled at his effort, at the sound of her first language tumbling out of his mouth. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

“Te quiero tanto también.”

“Her kid saw the whole thing. We’re waiting for a social worker to come get him, but until then we’ve got him set up over there.”

The beat cop nodded to a corner of the apartment-turned-crime scene.

Amy’s heart broke at the sight of the little boy huddled against the wall, his body covered in a standard issue medical blanket that absolutely dwarfed him. There were tear tracks running down his dirt covered cheeks, and he had a smaller threadbare blanket clutched in the crook of his elbow.

“Has he told you anything?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the boy. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jake bring a hand up to his face.

The cop shook his head.

“Nothing. We were hoping one of you would have better luck.”

Amy tore her eyes off the boy long enough to look up at Jake. His eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes hardened with a mix of concern and a deep-rooted anger Amy knew he harbored for any parent who hurt their kid.

“You want me to talk to him?” she asked quietly.

“No,” he replied with a small shake of the head. “I’ve got this.”

His eyes softened as he slowly made his way to where the child sat with his knees pulled up to his chest. Amy watched as Jake crouched down to the boy’s level, being careful not to make any sudden movements.

“Hey buddy,” Jake said kindly. “Mind if I sit down?”

The boy just stared at him. Jake carefully leaned back against the wall and sat down, crossing his legs.

“That’s a cool blanket. You must really like dinosaurs, huh?”

If Amy hadn’t been looking right at him, she’d have thought it was a trick of the light. But no, the child had, in fact, given Jake a tiny nod. Jake smiled.

“So do I. My favorite was always the T-Rex. In fact, when I was five I told my friend Gina I wanted to be a T-Rex when I grow up.”

One corner of the boy’s mouth flicked up, almost into a smile.

“My name’s Jake,” he told the boy. “I’m here to help you, okay?”

Again the boy nodded.

“Me and my friend Amy,” Jake pointed at Amy, who waved and gave him a kind smile, “We want to help you, but to do that we need to know your name. Can you tell me your name?”

“Charlie,” the boy whispered. His voice was tiny, petrified.

“Thank you so much,” Jake said, his eyes not leaving the boy’s gaze. “Now Charlie, can you tell me how old you are?”

“Four.”

“Great, Charlie. You’re doing great,” Jake repeated. He gave the boy another warm grin.

An hour later Charlie was asleep in Jake’s lap, one hand clutching the dinosaur blanket while the other clung to Jake’s shirt.

Amy offered to take over so he could stand and stretch, but Jake shook his head.

“I’m fine right here.”

“AMY!”

Amy woke with a start, immediately on high alert at the sound of panic in Jake’s voice.

“What is it?” she asked. Terror filled every part of her body, as she looked around the room to find the source of Jake’s fear. Figgis was supposed to be in jail. They’d made sure of that. So what was going on?

She couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear anything other than Jake’s continued screams.

It wasn’t until he accidentally hit her leg that Amy realized Jake was still in bed beside her, dead asleep but having a nightmare that was very real to him.

“No, not Amy!” Jake shouted again, tossing from side to side. “Leave her alone!”

At once her heart rate began to decrease, the adrenaline receding as she slid back into bed.

“Jake?” she said softly. “Jake, I’m right here. I’m okay.”

Somewhere deep inside Jake must have heard her, because the thrashing stopped almost immediately.

“Amy! Where are you?” he yelled. Amy could feel tears threatening to form as she slowly reached out and rubbed his shoulder.

“I’m right here, babe. We’re safe, okay? I’m right here and I love you so much.”

“Amy?” he asked, his voice bordering on a whimper.

“Yeah, Jake, it’s me,” she replied, scooting closer so her body was just inches away from his. “I’m okay. You’re okay. Just go to sleep.”

She continued to talk to him in low, hushed tones, repeating the same words over and over until he was no longer talking at all, until his body was calm enough for her to wrap him in her arms and hold him as tight as she could.

Until he knew he was safe.

VII

Jake and Amy were spending Christmas with the entire Santiago clan. Over the span of 48 hours, Jake had met all seven brothers, their wives, and the twenty nieces and nephews they’d bought gifts for. He had to be overwhelmed, but if he was he didn’t show it.

Christmas morning was spent at the family home, with everyone crowded into the living room sitting on every surface that wasn’t taken up by presents. Amy and Jake, for instance, were seated on the floor, their backs up against the coffee table for a bit of added support. In Amy’s lap sat Manny, her two year old nephew who was not in the mood to wait to open his presents. To pass the time, Amy and Manny were playing a little game.

“Manny, what’s my name?” Amy asked, pointing to herself. “What’s my name?”

“Ti Amy,” he said, poking Amy in the chest to emphasize his point.

“Good job!” she exclaimed. She pointed at her niece who was sitting to her left.

“Who’s this?”

“Nessa!”

“Yep, that’s Vanessa,” Amy replied with a smile. Next she pointed to Jake.

“How ‘bout this guy? Who’s this, Manny?”

Manny stared blankly back at her.

“Manny, who am I?” Jake asked, pointing at himself.

Still nothing.

“Silly Manny,” piped up Vanessa. “That’s Tio Jake! Can you say Tio Jake?”

“Tio Ake,” repeated Manny. Amy saw Jake’s eyes light up. They’d never called him Tio before.

“That’s me,” he replied. He looked over at Amy and gave her a giant smile. “Tio Jake.”

Amy’s heart melted.

VIII

The morning after he proposed Jake had purposefully gotten both of them the day off. So rather than waking up to their usual three alarms, Amy woke up on her own to the sun coming in through their bedroom window. For a brief moment it felt like any other morning, until she brought her hand up and saw the ring sparkle in the morning light. A smile immediately formed on her face, just as it had the night before. She couldn’t help it; she’d never been this happy, this content in her entire life.

She pulled her arm fully out of the covers and held it out in front of her, admiring how each slight turn of the hand brought out a different element of the ring.

Amy was so captivated by her hand that she didn’t notice how Jake had taken resident in the doorway and was now watching her with an equally giant smile.

“Good morning, fiancé,” he said, snapping Amy out of her trance.

“Hi fiancé,” she said, dropping her hand and peering up at him with a sheepish grin. “What are you doing up so early?”

Jake took an exaggerated step towards her, keeping his hands behind his back.

“I’ve got something for you,” he replied.

“You know you just got me a ring, right?” Amy asked, giving him a look. “I think you’ve done your share of gift giving for a while.”

“Yeah but I think you’ll like this,” Jake said as he approached the bed. “I actually made it myself.”

“You made it?” she asked tentatively. Jake wasn’t exactly known for his crafting ability.

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “Close your eyes.”

Amy narrowed her eyes.

“Come on, trust me,” Jake said, prodding her along. Amy rolled her eyes but obeyed.

“Okay, now hold out your hands.”

Amy obliged, placing her arms out in front of her. She felt Jake’s weight on the bed as he sat beside her and set something large and rectangular in her hands. It was light, but sturdy, made of some sort of stiff plastic. The material was familiar, like something she’d felt a thousand times before. Actually it kind of felt like…

“Is this a binder?” she asked, excitement seeping into her voice.

“Open your eyes and find out.”

Amy did as she was told and immediately felt her jaw drop.

It was in fact, a binder, but it was clearly so much more than that. It was two inches, maybe two and a half, and bright white. Inserted in the front cover was paper (the nice kind from her favorite craft store) decorated with at least a hundred wedding-themed stickers that included a tuxedo, champagne glasses, and multiple flower bouquets. Mixed in with the stickers were also pictures of the two of them from various stages in their relationship, including a picture they had just taken the night before. At the center of the paper was the title in Jake’s lopsided cursive: Jake, Amy, and the Best Wedding Ever.

“Oh my god…” Amy whispered. She ran her hand over the cover before finally looking up to see Jake watching her, his eyes full of nerves.

“You like it?” he asked her. “I thought you could use it to plan the wedding. Originally I was going to put some tabs or dividers inside, but I didn’t know which kinds you would want. And if you want a bigger size I can get that, or a different color, but white usually goes with weddings, right? So --”

“Jake,” she said, cutting him off.

“What?”

She grinned, bringing a hand up to wipe the tears that had formed in her eyes.

“It’s absolutely perfect.”

#peraltiago #peraltiago fanfiction #peraltiago fic #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99

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dashinberlin · 6 years ago

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The First Day of the Rest of My Life in Berlin

Welcome to my diary. I have been meaning to keep one of these for the whole of my twenties but I never got around to it. I’m currently 26 years old and today was the day that I moved to Berlin. It was a decision i made one year and ten days ago on the 13th of November. IT came about because my dreams and career have been stagnating for a while [4 years] In London and I really wasn’t happy anymore, especially after moving back in with my dad because my previous residence was too full of dogshit and used needles. I got up at about 8 I think. Dean, my ex boyfriend and best friend came over about 9, and we spent the morning sorting out a bunch of my last belongings. It was all very frantic and rushed, but I left the house in a state my dad was relatively pleased with.

We went to the post office first to mail some rubber to my crush in America. It was rubber from my passed away Sir. We were such a scene trying to fix the broken granny trolley full of stuff for dean with parcel tape in front of a busy post office. We got on the tube. It was a nightmare trying to navigate with three things on wheeels and about 5 or 6 back packs or bags. It was really strange and busy the whole things. Given that I had given myself a year to plan all of this, the fantasy-land version of myself had dreamed that everything would have been packed up and put to bed months ago, however the real version of me new I would be a qausi ,but never ever complete disaster as usual. In my head I think of myself as being one on a team of rag tag misfit kits who save the day wearing inventive but destroyed outfits, and brandish effective yet fucking weird and unconventional looking weapons.

So yeah we got to the airport and checked in, nearly burst into tears telling the lady on the desk i’d been planning this day for a year. my mate Bill works at heathrow and he came and joined us at the whetherspoons to see me off. When we’d drank and the time came for us to leave I decided now was the perfect time to record a video with Dean where we read off and performed our list of completely fucking weird and abstract foiles-es-deux language memes from the stickynotes app on my laptop. “blabble fish” “octoboyfriend” “Hatch distress call” and “pacman around the shop” were all memes that we re-enacted for this video. it was LOLZ.

And then the time was upon us. We walked to the gate, and we said goodbye. I pretty much instantly burst into tears telling dean good bye and how much i loved him, whilst holding him. We’ve been joined at the hip seeing each other at least two times a week for four years so it was a bit tough. We said we loved each other and were thankful for the times we had. I gave bill a “come here Bill!” and pulled him close.

Got through security and put my head-phones on. Next song up on my list was Foals- Spanish Sahara. This track is a work of art. It progresses so slowly I had to skip the first minute to be able to skip to the part where you could actually say it was a beginning verse. I walked to my gate (A26) as the song progresses. .... This whole time, the last year I knew was going to be year of closing doors behind me, some shut easy, some shut with the sound of broken hearts bittersweet wishes. When I decided to leave London it was like suddenly my 3d interaction with the city and all the people in it had become a massive one way track labyrinthine palace and at every step where i knew it was the last time i’d be in one place, or talk to one person, I neatly and quietly closed the door of this memory behind me. At first you’re zig zagging all over town shutting doors, but when it gets closer to things like, your leaving party, and your last ten tube rides, and then last time you see people you see every day, and then suddenly you’re listening to Spanish Sahara (a song about abandoning a foresaken place) and you’re looking through airport glass at the plane your about to board and you let out a great big silent scream because the fucking plane door now not only represents final closure of the palace of your life in London, all the hopes, failures dreams, tears, memories, laughs, blood, semen, and ambitions of this place. It staggeringly also carries the weight of being a portal to another dimension. At this point the plane ceases to be a plane, but instead is now a vessel that carries you from your neatly shut-down city of failed dreams, through time and space, to your future in a world that you really don’t know that much about, apart from that there was a big wall that cut it in half, and that it is currently the stunning playground of Gay Angels, Neo Nazi Demons, and all those in between... oh and by the way, they’re all dancing to techno and fucking on the dancefloor.

So I board the plane. I go to my seat I booked, its by a window at the very back. I’m sitting there with tears in my eyes and a woman turns around from the seat in front of me and asks in german if the lighter she has just found on the floor is mine. I tell her no its not, an eventually in german “Dass is nicht mein feuerzoig” and we strike up conversation. I tell her very quickly this is my moving flight to berlin that i’ve been planning on for one , and she’s instantly overwhelmed with compassionate amazement. Her name is Ingrid. She was super sweet to me, and told me numerous times that she had huge respect for me making this gigantic leap, and the guts it took to make it, and how much fun berlin would be, and how so many people never listen to their gut instinct. Over the cours of the flight she tells me over her story, how she lived in Berlin for 10 years, in Schoneberg no less, and how she thought she’d be happier becoming a sister in a convent, and how her dream led her astray, and how it had hurt to leave everything to start again and it not worked out. She explained how she worked in finance for a bit, and then a hospice which was a her true calling in life, and now how she was doing finance work again....and was very unfulfilled. I told her more of my year, how the dogshit needle house and years of london stagnation had made me so anxious sometimes at work I just wanted to sit there and cry and scream at the blank wall in front of my desk. And how something drastic needed to be done. I told her how I lost Michael in Berlin and how is death affected me, nd how I believe in magic and the amazing energy of the universe that will help and guide you if you are good, and you believe, and if you ask nicely and you yearn, and you work hard it will heLP YOU THE FUCK OUT. Ingrid supported all my additions with points of her own, and I think in that moment she new that like me, her life had become derailed from it’s path towards destiny and that it was time to get off of this path of pointlessness and back on one which makes her happy. That vessel. The wormhole to another life. Was a magical place to be. The plane flew over a beautiful wash of white clouds the whole way to Germany, and their textures changed from bright sunshine to darkness very quickly as sunset speed was enhanced by the plane’s cruising speed of threehundredandX MPH. With the ground obscured by smokewaves and light switch of the earth being flicked off so quickly, it was the transition from one path to another was practically audible. It was like the closing palace was actually my universe collapsing into a singular hyper dense singularity, and this new state, one even smaller than an atom was where I was in the vessel in that moment. The changing of the sky and the earth around me was actually the visual signs that my new future was being rotated and recalibrated around me, so that when the door of that fucking plane opened, a new palace and a new universe and a new future would burst out in front of me, sprawling infinitely. The name of that future is Berlin.

The plane lands. I get my bags with Ingrid. We take a selfie, proclaim the importance and sacred of our meeting and we move on. In the cab ride back to my place the driver welcomes me to Berlin and we instantly start talking about the insane nightlife. By the end of the cab ride he has revealed to me that he has always wanted to go to berghain and i give him some ideas of he could look cool and get in. and he is very thankful. He also told me how when he’s having sex he loves speaking in english because he finds it super fucking hot...like seriously, he spoke so emphatically that from what i can tell, english sex is to him what bondage fisting is to me.

I hang about for ten minutes waiting for Alis excited as fuck. When she arrives and opens the foor and screams “welcome to your new chapter!!” she looks slightly concerned at me for second because a few seconds has passed now and I’m so fulll of amazement and awe at those words my mouth was a big jar with a small lid, and filled with big word pickles and none of the eighty word pickeles could come out. . . So I just sort of jumped in the air and screamed a abit. We climbed about 7 flights of stairs up to the flat with my HEAVY Fuckng bags where she let me in and showed me my new room. Which. just. oh. my god. It’s. just. so fucking big. I can’t even believe it. I have the best room in the house! It’s long and tall, you could get about two and a half of my old bedroom in brixton into it easily. Suddenly I was here, The sparks of my new life palace constructing itself in front of me. All I could think was that it seemed so easy in a way. Like I had asked, and yes i did work, and save, and put in love and money and effort, and it just appeared in front me and now I can just go walk over, and pick it up and hold it and it’s mine. MY DREAM IS MINE AND ITS COMING TRUE EVERY SECOND THAT PASSES.

#bLOG #BERLIN LIFE #I MOVED TO BERLIN #MOVING TO BERLIN #ROAD TO BERLIN #I LOVE BERLIN #BERLIN BLOG #LONDON #NEW LIFE #DIARY

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spitestudies · 7 years ago

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hello everyone!! as a high school junior taking 4 aps, 3 other classes, preparing for the act, trying to do college research, stage managing a musical, and trying not to lose my mind, here are some fun n handy tips for not Dying when ur schedule is hell!

if you found this post helpful maybe give it a like/reblog and check out my other posts here!

01 | PLANNING AND PREPARING

so much of getting and staying organized has to do with organizing your time in advance. there are a million ways to do this--google calendar, a bullet journal, a planner, some post-it notes. my system involves three parts: a google calendar, a planner, and an online to-do list app.

google calendar: this is mostly for events. i can see when i have rehearsals, classes, doctor’s appointments, etc. this helps me see how much available time i have and budgeting it properly.

planner: i take this with me to school, and i use it to right down when i have assignments and tests. i use the ban.do planner, but these are a bit pricey, and really anything will do. just somewhere to put down tasks so you can keep track of them

getplan.co: this app is, honest to god, the only reason i am still alive and breathing. it plugs into your google calendar and then allows you to create and schedule tasks around events. @studycxlture has an amazing post about plan here that i def recommend checking out!

general tips about planning:

plan out the events of your month at least two days before it starts

set aside a night (i like sunday evenings) to set up a system for the upcoming week and go over what you have planned so you don’t forget anything

you are NOT gonna remember that assignment that teacher told you about. write it down.

you do not need a fancy system. it’s okay to try lots of different things until you find what works

never spend more time planning out tasks than completing them. unless you have that much free time, don’t dedicate two hours to making a lovely weekly bullet journal spread.

color codes!!! are a life saver. i have one with a color for each class (red for english, orange for spanish, yellow for history, green for science, blue for math, etc) as well as some for my extracurriculars (pink for the musical, teal for model un, etc).

always have ur planner open when ur working, so that you can make sure u r actually completing all the tasks u said u were gonna complete

02 | STAYING ORGANIZED

oh my god oh my god oh my god staying on top of your work is SO important when you’re busy. being able to find your worksheets and keep track of your homework and your million responsibilities is essential to being successful. to stay organized, i have an expandable file folder with tabs for each class. because i take most of my notes in notebooks instead of binders, this is a good way to keep all of my handouts, worksheets, and syllabi centralized.

also, make sure you have a way to keep your online materials organized. create a folder for each school year, and within that folder, create more folders for each class. from there, it’s up to you about how you’ll organize files. you can create even MORE folders (yeet) for things like homework, notes, study guides, etc, or folders for each unit you study. the possibilities are endless!!!! isn’t technology exciting

here r some pieces of advice for staying organized:

have a series of folders/binder/expandable file folder to hold your worksheets. or one for each class, though i prefer to keep all my papers in one a) to save money and b) to save space.

label your notebooks/binders so that you know which ones to bring home with you

never just shove something into your backpack. never. i’m gonna manifest into ur classroom and FIGHT you if u do that. it’s not good, it’ll end up getting lost or crushed under the weight of all ur textbooks, and you’ll end up panicking when u can’t find it

have ur planner on u at all times

keep a good filing system of ur stuff at home. u don’t need to carry around every single bio assignment you’ve gotten back, but by the time ur final rolls around ur gonna want 2 b able to look at all the materials you’ve gotten during the semester

that being said, throw stuff away when the year is over! i, for one, know i’m never gonna think about calculus after this class is done, so i will be recycling all of my papers (save the earth) and moving tf on

keep a recycling bin in your room! even if it’s just a paper bag, it’ll make throwing paper in the trash way less tempting (save the earth)

u don’t need a ton of pens. i’m being a giant hypocrite saying this but you really don’t need all that stuff. if you want it and you can manage it, great, but if it’s just another thing to keep track of, leave ur staedtlers and ur mujis and ur fineliners and ur calligraphy pens at home, and just take the essentials with u to school

03 | MAKING THE MOST OF UR TIME

in order to succeed, it’s v important to make every second count. this doesn’t mean studying 48 hours straight (pls don’t), but try not to waste time. whether this means you spend fifteen minutes napping, doing some reading for english, or having a quick snack, make sure u are being productive and healthy! i, for one, sometimes have 1-2 hour breaks between school and rehearsal, and i like to use these to walk to the grocery store by my school and get some food and then study in the deli.

some ideas for being productive!

carry a clipboard around everywhere. this way, u don’t need to spend as much time transitioning in and out of tasks, u can just put ur work onto the clipboard, and put it in ur backpack at the end of a break, and then the next chance u have to work on it, just take it back out. easy peasy

work during commutes! nOT if ur the one driving the car though that’s VERY dangerous and distracted driving = bad. but if ur on the bus, or ur mom is driving u to school, that might be a good time to go over some notes you took last night, or some reading you need to catch up on. nothing too insane, please don’t do ur chem labs on the public bus but. u know.

read over the notes you took that day on the ride home. this will help reinforce the information in ur brain, and it’s not super difficult. i go over my apush notes during the 40 minute drive home and sometimes talk about them w my mom, which gives me a much better grasp of the material

don’t waste time on social media. either delete instagram altogether, or log off/mute notifications before u start work. same with tumblr. don’t start scrolling obsessively if u have three tests to study for.

power naps!!!! napping for about 10-20 minutes, maybe on the way home or to practice/rehearsal/whatever u gotta do, can help u feel refreshed! anything longer will make u more tired tho, so be sure to get up when u say ur gonna get up.

study smarter: when ur going over material, u don’t need to handwrite 60 beautiful flashcards. use quizlet instead. don’t revise if it’s not gonna help u. prioritize which assignments r gonna be most impactful over the little ones u can easily make up

take good breaks!! breaks r VERY important and should be utilized properly. here r some good suggestions for things to do:

throw in a load of laundry

empty the dishwasher

stretch/do some jumping jacks

drink some water!

go for a walk

talk to a family member

get a snack!

read some fun novels n such

scream?

!! in case of emergency !! the following tips should only be employed when ur short on time. don’t use these just bc u can, this is just when it’s about getting close enough to grasping material, not actually grasping it

do every other math problem assigned, and either star the ones u didn’t do, or get the answers from the back of the book. this way, u get some practice but u also save time

sparknotes ur reading beforehand. this way, u can recognize what’s going on. it’s not v good for developing ur reading comprehension, but assignments will go by quicker

NEVER google translate ur language homework, but u can use word reference for helping u find the right word and proper conjugations

flagpole it: didn’t study enough for a test? are u guessing on like 10 of the questions? if it’s multiple choice, but the same answer for all the ones u have no clue about, unless that answer choice seems highly unlikely. then pick a different one. this way, ur statistically more likely to get some of the ones you guessed correct.

when u have an online assignment due at midnight and it’s 11:53 and u haven’t started, find another assignment you’ve already completed that has a similar document name. for example, “scarlet letter chapters 9-11″ instead of ur actual assignment “scarlet letter chapters 12-14″. submit the other one, and then when u finish the other assignment (either that night or the next morning) email ur teacher and apologize, say u accidentally submitted the wrong document

if ur parents will let u (if ur in high school) or u can let urself (if ur in uni), it’s okay to skip a day to catch up. just make sure u actually work, get the notes u missed, and talk to ur teachers/professors abt the material u missed.

04 | STAYING HEALTHY

ur health comes before any assignment, test, or extracurricular. i know lots of ppl r probably telling u that and it doesn’t seem like they mean it, but i mean it. no exam is worth sacrificing ur mental, physical, or emotional health for. yeet! so here r some things to keep in mind

eat! ur fuckin! breakfast! whether it’s a smoothie or oatmeal or a cup of orange juice or an apple or an elaborate french toast dish, u need some food in ur stomach so that u have the energy to start ur day

remember to take ur meds if u need to!

drink water! drink! water! have a glass when u wake up, and then at least one with every meal, and one before u go to bed. hydration is v important. if u can, invest in a water bottle and take it with u to class.

pack a lunch! and if ur staying later after school, pack snacks! tech week for me is always hell because i get to school at 7:30 am and don’t usually leave until 11 that night. it’s v important to stay nourished and hydrated so that u don’t get dizzy or faint.

remember! that u are beautiful, and ur body is beautiful, and it deserves 2 b loved! especially by u.

get 6 hours of sleep. aim for 8, but six at the very least. if ur done with ur work, go to bed early! don’t just stay up for no reason.

shower everyday, or every other day at least. give yourself those 15 minutes as a break from work or school or anything else that’s keeping you busy

write down ur thoughts in a journal?

talk to a friend if ur feeling sad, or just feeling things very intensely. share ur joy with other people! vent ur sadness and anger so u aren’t carrying it around everywhere.

make some time to have fun. see a movie w ur friends or ur bf/gf/datefriend or ur family over the weekend. go to a museum. hang out at the mall. sleepover at someone’s house. taking breaks is healthy.

make an effort to have dinner with ur family if u can (also if u like ur family. i know some ppl have bad relationships w them so skip this step if that’s u). it can be nice to reconnect w everyone, even when ur stressed or they’re annoying u, it can be nice.

remember that it’s okay to be imperfect! u don’t need to be good at a lot of things. i got a b for the first time last semester, i just got a c on an apush test, i failed my driver’s test again yesterday. but i also aced my math quiz, i celebrated six months of knowing my best friend, i walked my dog, i helped put a production together. it’s okay to have rough days and bad days and bleh days, as long as you keep pushing through them and working for the days to get better.

i love u!!! stay hydrated and nourished and get enough sleep. put on some lotion if u have it available. brush ur hair. if u ever wanna ask a question, my ask box is always open! <3

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faeriexqueen · 7 years ago

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When in Spain

Title: When in Spain Chapter: Lost in Translation Words: +2K Fandom: D. Gray-Man Pairing: Tyki Mikk/Allen Walker (Poker Pair) Summary: Allen wasn't thrilled with being sent to a country for his assignment where he couldn't speak the local language. But, perhaps it will be worth it. Read on AO3 Poker Pair Week 2017, Day 01: Accommodations / Safety / Language / Sunshine

The terminal for Madrid-Barajas Airport was hectic. Allen felt on edge simply by getting off the plane where he was immediately thrown into the noisy throng of other travelers. He glanced around, quickly seeking out a terminal sign as he clutched at his carry-on bag closely. ‘Sign, sign…come on, where are you so I can get out of here?’ Allen wondered, as his gray eyes scanned the area. Allen was relieved to finally spot one, and even more so to see that the terminal sign wasn’t entirely in Spanish. Below the Spanish writing was the English translation, which was incredibly helpful considering Allen’s Spanish was pretty minimal. He knew a few key phrases to help get around, but aside from that Allen was pretty much clueless. ‘I can’t believe Komui sent me all the way out here,’ Allen thought, as he started to follow the signs toward the exit that led to the metro. ‘Right before my vacation too…’ Allen Walker was a PI, or private investigator. It was an interesting occupation, and Allen certainly didn’t regret his career path by any means. However, the position came with its drawbacks – such as being sent off to some other country to track down another PI. In this case, it was Cross Marian. The man was a top notch PI, and one of The Black Order’s best. So, when the man had unexpectedly gone missing on an assignment and failed to check in, Allen was selected to be the one to track him down. “You did used to work under him as his assistant,” Komui pointed out as he poured another cup of coffee. “If anyone can track him down, it’s bound to be you.” Allen eyed the print out of the assignment details warily, then looked at Komui. “I don’t know…I think Lavi would be better suited. He’s multi-lingual-“ Komui sighed. “Lavi’s on another assignment in Italy.” “Well, what about Kanda? He’s been to Spain before.” Kanda shook his head. “Kanda’s on his vacation until next week-“ “Seriously?! But I’m about to start my vacation-“ “Well, think of this as a vacation,” Komui suggested amiably. “You know, Madrid is really a great place to visit! Lots of sunshine, so it’ll be a nice break from the drizzly weather here. Plus I hear the tapas are great.” Allen sighed. Okay, well if the food was good, this was doable. “Fine,” Allen sighed. That conversation had only taken place yesterday afternoon before Allen had needed to get a quick ticket to Madrid and fly out the next morning. Komui had already taken care of everything in terms of where Allen would be staying, though; he would be in some little studio in an area called Lavapies. It was apparently close to where Cross had stayed previously, and would hopefully make it easier for Allen to find some kind of lead as to just where Cross has disappeared to. ‘Even when I’m not working as his assistant he’s a pain in the ass,’ Allen thought, as he headed down the escalators to the level where the train would be. He finally located the area he was supposed to be on, and did a quick double check of the (very thorough) directions Komui had left for him before purchasing his ticket and boarding the train. The train ride was just as chaotic as Allen had anticipated. People crowded in, pressing against each other closely. Personal space didn’t seem to exist and Allen was hit with an onslaught of colognes and more chatter that he couldn’t really comprehend. He attempted to distract himself from the sensory overload, and glanced upward at the train’s route that was posted up above the windows. He recognized the name of where he would need to stop. Well, one stop. Allen would have to switch lines at the next stop and be really careful to pay attention to where he was going. If he were lucky, Allen would get to his destination with no problem. ~~~ Allen wasn’t lucky. The whole metro expedition had started off okay. Allen had been able to navigate the stops and escalators (God, why did the metro have to have so many never-ending escalators?) for the most part, but the trouble came when he got to his final stop. Upon going up the stairs and exiting the metro, Allen was completely thrown off by the sudden heat and brightness of outside. ‘Komui wasn’t kidding about the sunshine…’ Allen paused to look at his directions. He was supposed to look for a café to as a landmark so he wouldn’t miss the street he was supposed to go to. Allen frowned as he looked up. He didn’t see it. “Just great,” Allen muttered, before he started off in a direction, hoping that he would find something to clue him as to where to go next. When he didn’t see anything, Allen stopped to pull out his phone. Okay, well maybe the map app on his phone would help. Allen paused, waiting for the app to open. However, the app seemed to freeze as it was loading. Allen cursed to himself. After a few minutes, the phone app crashed. Allen tried to open it a second time. And it crashed again. Well, damn it. Allen pocketed his phone, and looked around – oh crap, where had he come from again? Running a hand through his hair, Allen exhaled. Okay, it wasn’t that bad. Allen would find the street he was supposed to be on sooner or later, right? Maybe he could find a map posted somewhere – there probably was one. At least, Allen hoped so. He ended up wandering around for another half-hour. Allen was getting frustrated. So far he hadn’t seen any sign of the café he was supposed to find as a landmark or the street he needed to get to. Nothing was familiar, and Allen had chanced asking two people for directions – both of whom stared at him blankly when he tried to poorly construct a sentence in Spanish. The failed attempt for getting directions had definitely made Allen hesitant on asking anyone else, but he wasn’t sure about calling Komui either. If Allen did that, Komui’s respond would likely be, “Well, why didn’t you follow the directions I gave you?” Allen sighed, as he leaned against a wall. He had found a shaded area at a street corner, which was nice given that the sun had started to beat on his skin. His face was already slightly pink from being out (curse his pale, freckled face), and he could feel the unpleasant sensation of sweat starting to collect on the base of his back. A few minutes passed, and Allen glanced around. At this rate, he probably would have to ask someone for help again. It was just a matter of trying to be able to communicate with them properly. Allen looked around, trying to spot someone who looked easy to talk to. Most people seemed busy on their way somewhere or were engaged in something else whether it were being on their cell or talking to a friend. Allen didn’t really feel comfortable interrupting those people, so he tried to look elsewhere. He stopped when he noticed a young, sandy-haired boy who was close by. Approaching the boy, Allen gave a small wave. “Um, hello,” He started, having completely given up on trying to speak in Spanish. The boy didn’t respond, but looked at Allen. Well, that was a start. Quickly, Allen pulled out his directions. He then pointed to the name of the street that he was supposed to go to. “Do you know where that is?” Allen asked, his voice hopeful. His eyes flickered to the name, then back to the boy as he tried to pronounce it. “Calle Amparo?” The boy tilted his head, and looked at Allen questioningly. Allen sighed in defeat. “Oye, do you need directions?” ‘YES,’ Allen wanted to scream. He turned to face the speaker, and held up the directions as he pointed to the street name. “Yeah - do you know where this street is?” The individual – a man with deeply tanned skin and dark, wavy hair pulled back into a low ponytail – glanced at the street name. A look of recognition flickered across his eyes, of which Allen noticed were a peculiar golden hue. “Calle Amparo? Yeah, but I don’t know what you’re doing so far from it,” He answered as his lips quirked upward slightly. Allen’s face burned a little, and he put the directions away. He was going to respond, but the boy who had been silently up until that point spoke up suddenly. It was in Spanish, so Allen had no idea what the kid was saying, but it likely didn’t matter – the boy was talking to the other guy (did they know each other?). Ponytail guy said something back, and the kid waved before running off. He turned back to Allen. “Eeez doesn’t speak English, so he probably wasn’t the best person to ask,” Ponytail said. “I can show you the way though.” The offer caused relief to flow over Allen. He would happily take the opportunity to avoid getting lost even more. “Thanks,” Allen replied, as he started to follow Ponytail down the street. As they walked along, Ponytail started speaking. “So, you a tourist or something?” He asked, tone languid. “Most of them tend to flock to areas like Sol-Gran Via.” Allen hesitated, quickly remembering the cover story he had. “Um, kind of. But I found a place to stay in this area that was cheaper.” “It’s better here anyways,” Ponytail responded as they continued to walk. “More locals, but that’s what makes it nice. Sundays get kind of crazy with el Rastro though.” Allen had no idea what the guy was talking about, so he didn’t comment. “El Rastro? You know, the flea market here every Sunday? You should definitely go if you’ve never been here before. I’ve taken Eeez a few times and he loves it.” Allen looked at Ponytail curiously. “That kid?” He asked, trying to figure out if there was maybe some kind of relation between the two. Honestly, they didn’t looked related, but…you never knew. “Um, is he yours…?” Ponytail laughed suddenly, and looked back at Allen. There was an amused glint in his eyes. “Do we look related?” He asked, his tone a little teasing. Ponytail didn’t wait for a response though. “He’s more like a little brother, but no, we’re not related.” “Oh,” Allen responded, somewhat awkwardly. “I wasn’t sure.” They walked a few more minutes, falling into silence. Ponytail didn’t speak again until he had stopped walking, where he then turned to face Allen. “Well, this is where Calle Amparo starts,” He spoke, nodding his head in the direction of the street sign. “You know where to go from here?” Allen blinked, and glanced down at his directions. “Uh…” “I guess that’s a no then,” Ponytail confirmed. “What’s the address you’re trying to get to?” Allen just handed over the directions. Since there was no actual confidential information of them, he figured it was fine to do so. He watched as Ponytail skimmed over the address. “Okay, so just keep heading that way and you should come to it eventually. Pretty sure I’ve passed that address before,” Ponytail spoke before handing the directions back to Allen. Allen nodded. “Okay,” He said, once more feeling relieved. It would be so nice to finally get to that damn apartment. Realizing he hadn’t actually expressed any gratitude, Allen looked back at Ponytail. “Thanks for getting me here, um…” “It’s Tyki,” Ponytail – Tyki – said. He offered Allen a smile. “And don’t worry about it, kid.” Allen bristled a little at being called “kid.” “My name’s Allen,” He corrected, trying not to sound too terse. Tyki chuckled, apparently more amused by Allen’s reaction rather than being put off. “Okay, Allen,” He said, before giving a small wave. “Well, maybe I’ll see you around then. Don’t get too lost again.” Tyki didn’t wait for Allen to say anything before he started off. Allen stayed though, and watched as Tyki disappeared around the corner before he looked back at the address he was supposed to find. “Sure…” He murmured, before heading in the direction Tyki had pointed him in.

#poker pair week #poker pair #tykillen #fanfiction #fanfic #allen #allen walker #tyki #tyki mikk #modern au #private investigator #spain #travel #poker pair week 2017 #tyki x allen #dgm #d gray man #i'm technically late BUT #oh well XD

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airanddust · 5 years ago

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A day in isolation

Day I don’t even know. It’s March 27. I should be packed and ready for a trip to Japan, but that was cancelled a month ago. We should have been there to see the cherry blossoms and stay in a cramped Osaka hotel room. Now, as the meme says, we will be going to “Los Kitchenos.”

My mornings start with a sense of reluctance. Sailor nudges my leg two minutes before my 7 am alarm. I used to wake up at 6, which, since the time change, is now 7, but I haven’t been to the office since then so I’ve been waking up at this time for…three weeks. Since March 5.

I feed the dogs, stumble in the wan light to pull open the blinds, flip on my Happy Light, and unfurl my thick purple yoga mat. I don’t bother with the toning yoga videos anymore. It’s all stretches and relaxation practices. I choose fifteen or twenty minutes, or thirty if I didn’t hit snooze and feel luxurious. I tilt my spine side to side in tabletop position, hands and feet against the ribbed mat. A catch releases somewhere in my back.

The first downward dog is always a balm for my calves. My right leg is a block of concrete, stiff and unmoving after an uncomfortable night. I often wake to find myself jammed against one shoulder, or with a hand tingling, or my hip screaming so loudly it pulls me from a dream.

I work through the flow and inevitably need a tissue when my body spurts up some gunk that went dormant overnight. Clarity returns to my sinuses. I feel a little less hatred for the day ahead. It almost feels like a normal day.

Since stocking up for the vacation-apocalypse, I now have a myriad of breakfast choices as compared to my typical instant oatmeal packet or protein shake. I could have protein waffles, banana bread, strawberries, string cheese, or cinnamon raisin bread that Robert made, wide and puffy.

I read the Bible while I eat. I used to read it on my YouVersion app, but that was creating a too-addictive don’t-break-the-chain habit (I got to 100 days this year), and the reading didn’t go deep. I switched to the mid-Psalms in my fifteen-year-old NASB college Bible and starting journaling my SOAP — another unfortunate acronym, but a helpful one I gleaned from our church’s online messages. Scripture, Observation, Application, Prayer. It helps me identify what most speaks to me in a passage and consider it more closely. Today it’s Psalm 41.

I have fifteen minutes to write, perched on the edge of my dilapidated former office chair, which has lost two silver wheels and now sits disabled next to my desk. I realized I need a separate space, even if it’s just a seat two feet from my office chair, in which to write and thus separate myself from work.

I check newsletters in my email. The Denison Forum, the New York Times briefing, the Hustle, Briefingday, and, on Fridays, Girls’ Night In. I take a quick scroll through Instagram. Sometimes I watch a few stories from my favorite fashion bloggers. Then I lift the lid of my work MacBook Pro.

It’s time to work, but the thought of eight hours ahead of me is nearly paralyzing. I usually open Trello, where I’ve divided my tasks into To Do, Doing, and Done, but today I try Marie Forleo’s handwritten method of finishing the sentence “The one thing I will accomplish today is…” Today, it is sketching and mocking up a grid view for car sensors.

Then the Slack messages come in. I removed Slack from my phone at the advice of a coworker — “only I can give myself anxiety; Slack doesn’t have that privilege” — but the desktop app still manages to contribute to the low-grade anxiety that I will miss a critical conversation. I disabled the red badge of death. I turned on Do Not Disturb. Yet I still compulsively open Slack every ten minutes. Working remotely seems to make me eager to prove I’m around, available, not goofing off, and I don’t get into that deep zone of focus I need. But I try. I turn on an instrumental playlist from Spotify — it only recommends classical and movie scores for me now — and clump my old, cheap Amazon headphones over my ears.

My cat Nala weaves in between my keyboard and monitor. She flips onto her back and splays her legs out, falls asleep, and spreads ever so subtly until her back leg shoves my keyboard to the far edge of the desk, where I am now forced to sit diagonal to my computer. If I shut her out of the office, she scratches the door and makes pleading guttural noises, but in the office, she seems to know when I have a Zoom meeting and pretends to run an agility course. More than twice I’ve had to introduce her to coworkers when she hops between me and the webcam, leaving a dark tail in her wake.

We had catered lunch daily at the office. Now we fend for ourselves. This week I wrote down a semi-meal plan, and today I pull two red-topped plastic containers from the fridge to mix Thai ground beef with leftover Kraft Mac and cheese. I microwave it until it’s a strangely humid combination of cuisines.

I read the latest edition of Real Simple while I eat. The magazine came bagged in a plastic sheath, which I peeled off and threw away before washing my hands. I know the content was created months ago before this virus existed, and yet it’s still odd to read something so remarkably free of Covid-19. There is, however, a spring cleaning feature that explains the difference between sanitizing and disinfecting. That reminds me we only have a handful of Clorox wipes left. When we run out I’ve thought of dipping paper towels into the leftover solution at the bottom of the canister. I haven’t been super diligent about wiping down surfaces, but then again, we don’t go out much. I haven’t been outside in two days.

I return to my desk and mindlessly nibble on a Seattle Chocolate Double Distilled Mint bar. I eventually return to the kitchen to make DIY milk tea — cold Lipton with a splash of milk, mixed in my reusable boba tea tumbler. I didn’t think I could tolerate caffeine, but the iced tea has just enough to propel me through the rest of the workday. I don’t have tapioca to add but that’s okay. There are apparently sixty-eight carbs per serving of boba. I’m already eating too much. We stocked up on rice cakes, bananas, peanut butter, oatmeal, canned soup, dried pineapple, Pop-Tarts, and granola. Five-year-old me is constantly aware of this and always planning my next trip to the kitchen.

At three I join a few coworkers for what we call Zoom-ba, our virtual dance session, where I share a pre-made YouTube playlist and we dance in tiny thumbnail windows with each other. Our favorite instructor is a guy named Mao who wears bright colors and dances on a pier somewhere over tropical waters. It helps us feel less like we’re trapped in our small, dark homes.

After an hour more of work, I join another Zoom call to work out with friends who exercise with me almost daily now. Today we do legs. Last time we did abs, which, for some reason, left Laura with sore arms and me with achy glutes. We’re still figuring out how to do this. We place our laptops on chairs and the floor and follow an impossibly fit woman on YouTube.

Sweaty and tired, I tell my friends goodbye and pull up Instagram to watch the nightly fireside chat from my favorite finance author. It’s comforting to have this small slice of a predictable schedule: to know that every night, he’ll appear on my screen at 5:30. After this I don’t know what I’ll do. Maybe eat, or walk the dogs.

Robert makes mashed potatoes in the Instant Pot, and a thick, starchy scent wafts through the house. The Instagram Live ends and I join him for small plates of mashed potatoes with canned green beans. It feels sort of like a survival meal. We forgot to defrost any meat. I know I’ll be hungry later.

It’s raining so we don’t walk the dogs. Instead, we finish watching the first season of Altered Carbon, which I wasn’t sure I’d even want to finish watching. I don’t like how the story is ending. I also realize that with each show I watch, I’m wondering why the actors stand so close to each other. It hasn’t even been six months since all of this started. Will I think this way about every show from now on?

After the show ends Robert goes to his home office and I go to mine, where I open Skillshare for the next new routine I’ve established: learning Spanish. A coworker mentioned it could be a good way to pass the time, and since we have several Spanish-speaking friends and I love Zumba music, I’d like to learn it. I sit in front of my laptop and repeat words to the screen.

Some nights I make a tiny zine out of a sheet of printer paper. I think I’m putting too much on my plate. My creativity feels dried up, restless, and I end up on Twitter or some other internet rabbit hole. I don’t want to look back and see that every decision I made during this time was reactionary, but some days I don’t feel like I can muster much more than that.

Before brushing my teeth and washing my face, I go through my planner, make sure I did everything I wanted to do today. I realize how crude that sounds when, as some articles tell me, I shouldn’t be focused on output during a time of global crisis. But I feel listless without these goals. I need something to put me in motion, even if only for distraction.

Now I’m in bed. I have a stack of library books procured hours before the library shut down, but I don’t always read them. I keep one on my nightstand just in case. I’ll probably watch Robert play Animal Crossing on the Switch until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. The music and repetitive actions are calming. Boring. Kind of like life used to be.

I fall asleep.

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rebellect-writes · 4 years ago

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[SIZE=1][b]Name:[/b] Jess. [b]Age:[/b] 21. [b]How did you find us?:[/b] I blame you!

[b]Name:[/b] Alec Orion Campbell. [b]Nicknames & Aliases:[/b][LIST]Alias: Aleck O’Rourke. Alias: Noah Campbell. Nickname: Smart Alec. [/LIST] [b]Age:[/b] 32. [b]Date of Birth:[/b] March 1st 1979. [b]Gender:[/b] Male. [b]Sexual Orientation:[/b] Equal opportunity! (Bi, leans towards guys lately.) [b]Occupation:[/b] Supernatural bounty hunter. [b]Powers:[/b] Not a lick of power in his body.

[b]Face Claim:[/b] Jensen Ackles [b]Description:[/b] [IMG]http://i672.photobucket.com/albums/vv90/bloodwillout/app%20pics/936full-jensen-ackles.png[/IMG] [i]Height:[/i] 6’1 [i]Weight:[/i] 171lbs. [i]Eyes:[/i] Hazel. [i]Hair:[/i] Brown/blonde. [i]Build:[/i] Average, athletic. [i]Visible marks:[/i] His most notable mark is a nasty set of claw marks on his right shoulder from a werejaguar in New Mexico, other than that it’s small nicks and scrapes here and there that don’t even register to him. [i]Style:[/i] Instead of caring what new fashions are in and all that nonsense, Alec likes the comfortable and more practical stuff. Jeans, t-shirts, jacket and a nice pair of boots are things he favours. That doesn’t mean he won’t dress up every now and again if he has to make an impression. He does wear his wedding ring on a chain around his neck too. [i]Choice Weapon:[/i] His duel Colt 1911’s with silver plated bullets.

[b]Special Skills:[/b] [LIST] [*] He can speak Portuguese, Spanish, Russian and French. [*] Knows the ins and the outs of the police system. [*] Good enough under the hood of a car to get it to work for him. [*] Fairly proficient in the following areas involving firearms, knives, hand to hand combat. [*] Decent tracker if he does say so himself. [/LIST][b]Personality:[/b]

Alec is a natural smart arse; he uses the witty comments and remarks to cover a smart calculating mind. The laid back and easy persona is what everyone else see’s, when really, he’s watching for people to make mistakes that he can use to his advantage. He rarely does use what he see’s and learns to his advantage though, unless he’s on a job in which case, may the best man or monster win. He is fairly open minded with most things and will try anything at least once in his life. One thing that he can’t quite grasp is the whole religion thing. He doesn’t believe in God, but he believes there is something after death, he just doesn’t know what it is, so when it comes to using items of faith, they’re very faulty at best. He’s quirky, smiley, doesn’t go out of his way to start trouble but he will finish it if it happens.

Confident on the surface, Alec’s been known to stare down any lycanthropes and just smirk as he’s read them their rights or recounted their adventures. Some might even call him cocky in this world, he’s only human after all and who in their right mind would fear a human! It’s that aspect which he uses against people; he’ll gladly shoot something in the face and crack silly jokes as things bleed. It’s the underneath that’s scary, he’s cold and won’t hesitate if it means people will live, and one more bad guy is put down out of the worlds collective misery. Trust is something that’s earned, while he may appear to go along with others ideas and follow peoples lead, you have to earn your stripes in his eyes because he can’t carry dead weight half the time. Once you’ve won his trust though, Alec is a little more open about things and he’s also hellish loyal in return.

Alec doesn’t like to be dragged into things that aren’t any of his business, which is pretty contradictory given his profession. When he’s hunting, he likes to get to know his prey as best as he can but if he can’t get a plan of action, he’ll wing it. His view on the supernatural world at large is pretty simple. There are monsters in the human community so why should he care about fangs and claws or magic? At the end of the day, it’s people’s choices that make them a monster to others, not infections or transitions. Hell! A good few of his friends are supernatural by nature and he’d trust them at his back on their bad days rather than an unarmed human that he doesn’t know.

One thing that will knock him every which way but the right way is bringing up his family, more to the point his baby girl. It’s probably the only thing that can really get through to him. Threaten her and he will rain unholy hell on anything and everything but it’s also his undoing. Caitlyn is the last piece of light in his soul and it would destroy him if anything happened to her. He’d do anything; even kill another human being, if it made sure she was safe. This is probably the reason that only the people closest to him know about her existence, to avoid such scenarios happening. He thought he was in love once with his wife, Chloe, but her betrayal locked down that part of his soul. Why should he allow himself to love if he’s going to get hurt? Commitment is something that he’s working on. Just give him a little time, ok?

[b]Likes:[/b] [LIST] [*] Blackberries. [*] Bacon burgers. [*] The Jerry Springer Show. [*] Keeping his weapons in good shape. [*] Keeping fit and active. Getting fat is not on his list of things to do. [*] The thrill he gets from hunting. [/LIST] [b]Dislikes:[/b] [LIST] [*] People that lie to his face. [*] Techno music. What the hell is that noise? [*] When people think that being human instantly means weakness. [*] Getting dragged into the centre of a confrontation that he didn’t start. [*] The Church of Eternal Life...Followed by most vampires in general. [*] Being laid up in Hospital or at home. [/LIST][b]Strengths:[/b] [LIST] [*] Knowing his baby girl is safe with his uncle. [*] That whole lack of trust thing saved him from getting a knife in the back. [*] He can – surprisingly – follow orders. [*] Good at blending in. [/LIST] [b]Weaknesses:[/b] [LIST] [*] His daughter, Caitlynn. [*] Insomnia dulls his reflexes and sometimes he has to take medication to sleep. [*] His big mouth doesn’t know when to shut up sometimes. [*] The fact he doesn’t trust so easily anymore. [/LIST][b]Fears:[/b][LIST] [*] Caitlynn getting hurt because of him. [*] Clowns freak him out to no end. [*] Claustrophobia. [/LIST][b]History:[/b]

Back in early spring of ’79 at a hospital in downtown Phoenix, Arizona, Lillian Campbell gave birth to a screaming healthy baby boy, much to her and her husband Anthony’s surprise. They’d been told that they were going to get a girl by the doctors that they’d seen so Alec was a big surprise however it didn’t stop them from loving the babe though; it just meant that they’d have to repaint the nursery and get a new wardrobe better suited to boys than girls and until they did that. Baby Alec had to put up with what was there for the first few weeks of his life when the family swarmed and coddled the new arrival. It was great! Wonderful even! Shame he doesn’t remember those days and only knows about them from what he’s been told from relatives.

The one thing that’s blistered into his memories is the heat however, and growing up in Maryville wasn’t so bad. There wasn’t any drama there despite the fact that some of the kids in the neighbourhood were rougher but that wasn’t any reason for Alec to cower behind his mom’s skirt. In fact, it was the rougher kids that he fell in with when he was growing up, his father didn’t approve and he made it clear as he told Alec stories from his work despite Lillian’s attempts to stop him. Being an officer in the PGU (Phoenix Gang Unit), Anthony saw all kinds of things that had him awake at night, and it was his hope to shock Alec into staying away from certain types. It sort of worked, and it sort of didn’t at the same time. Alec didn’t want to give up his friends, so he stayed away from them when his parents were around to avoid the choice.

It didn’t work out as well as Alec planned, at the age of fifteen he was given a shock that changed his life forever. Anthony had been killed while investigating a prior drug related crime, it shattered Lillian and Alec was left to pick up the pieces. He cut himself off from the guys in the neighbourhood, buckled down at school and things started to look up; he even tried to find himself a job. However when he found out from his uncle that his dad had been killed by the same gang that he’d been running around with, Alec was filled with a rage so fierce that he couldn’t not go and confront someone. Alejandro Hernandez was his unlucky victim, Alec didn’t care how high the guy ranked, didn’t want to know or care, he just wanted the name of the idiot stupid enough to pull the trigger. Alejandro wasn’t put off by the ‘white boy’, but after Alec snapped his wrist and broke his knee, the slightly older boy gave over the name Jose Ramirez.

The problem with this newest revelation was that Ramirez wasn’t an unknown person in Alec’s life. The guy only lived a block away and his mum was friends with Alec’s. Unsure of anything at the time, he backed off for a fortnight to plan what he was going to do. He didn’t get to think for long because Jose came to him with the few of the ‘old gang’, demanding to know why he’d beat Ale. Despite the fact that they where only a couple of years older, Alec didn’t let that stop him from beating seven shades of hell out of him. It was Ramie’s mom that found them and screamed blue murder. The next few days went by in a rush and as a result of what had happened between him and his former friend, Alec found himself in a Juvenile detention centre for the next year for causing bodily harm to another minor. When he got out, he found that the Ramirez family had moved and hadn’t left a forwarding address. In fact, they'd left in a hurry and hadn't even packed their house up. Damn. The black mark on his record was recinded as other charges where brought to light against the Ramirez family several months later.

Since he couldn’t get back at the guy that killed his father, Alec sat back and thought about things. He was eighteen and he could do anything despite the stint in Juvi-Hall, at least that was what he kept telling himself. Instead of swearing vengeance, he decided to do the old man proud and started looking into how to be an officer of the law, just like Anthony had been and most of the men in the family before his father. So he went back to school and got his diploma, made things right with his mom and found a part time job at a body shop where he learnt everything he knew about a car. Since he had to be twenty one to even be considered, Alec made everything right that he could. He didn’t do drugs; he stayed away from fights and even found as many character references as he thought that he would need. What he didn’t do though, was stay away from the alcohol. He could handle his liquor no problem, but the slightly drunk one night stand with a closet bite junkie would come back and bite him in the arse.

His twenty first rolled around pretty quick and he applied to the criminal investigation unit for Arizona and went through all of the following tests and training that was needed. At the first meeting, things had looked bad because of his black mark, but he’d proven himself even to the people that hadn’t wanted to accept him. Twenty three, with a promising career before him, Alec was left gobsmacked when Chloe, the partier-cum-bite junkie that he’d slept with four years previous tracked him down with a squirming four year old baby girl she claimed was his. If Alec was shocked, his momma was even more shocked by the fact she was a grandmother. At first Alec didn’t buy it, didn’t want to believe that he’d missed out on four years of fatherhood so he demanded a paternity test before they moved forward. Six weeks later and a lot of making up and getting to know you moments, one piece of paper was all it took to make things seem real again and the old school charm of his had him blurting out those four magical words that any woman wants to hear, “Will you marry me?” And Chloe said yes.

Over the next five years, things were pretty normal or at least he thought that they were normal. Chloe had fallen off the wagon so to speak, and when she claimed that she was working late, she was really getting bitten by a vampire. Unbeknown to Alec, his wife had been marked as a vampire servant by a Master vampire that hailed from Reno who wanted to take over the Kiss in Phoenix. Of course, things started to get strained over the next few months and one day, Alec mouthed off to the wrong officer and got shunted into this small time squad called RPIT that was in charge of dealing with ghosts and ghoulies and when Chloe found out, she freaked! Started calling him a no good bum and how things were going to change or she’d leave. The argument they had ended as Chloe stormed off in a huff, out of the door and his life with his daughter and into the back of a limbo. The flashy exit did not stop Alec from taking the plate numbers.

Four months later he tracked the company down to Reno, not letting it go, he’d quit his job and annoyed his mom to the point that they no longer talked. After kicking up enough fuss in Reno, Chloe finally found him and so did her Master and lover, Ashe. They made no attempt to hide their relationship and infuriated Alec. He just wanted Cait! What he got was a nasty clip to the back of his head after Ashe fed from him, stuffed in a coffin and buried to be forgotten in the Mojave Desert. Chloe obviously hadn’t learnt a thing from Alec in the five years she’d known him, because when he came around, Alec found himself scared beyond reason and that only fuelled the need to get up and moving even though he had no idea how long he’d been there. Even though he was only human, he clawed his way through five feet of earth and finally found fresh air.

With no idea how long he walked for, or what really happened, it seemed like days. The heat having played tricks with his mind, at the hospital he’d been carted to by some tourist family that found him beside a stretch of road. Something had snapped in him, he called in a lot of favours to see if Ashe was still in Reno but he wasn’t. It was like they’d vanished without a trace and it broke something in him. He hadn’t been able to save Cait, his mind kept going over what his daughter must have been going through, stuck with a murdering scummy vampire. It was an odd change of mind that led him to hunting down the monsters that bumped back in the night. He knew enough about them from his time on RPIT, had more contacts and resources he could draw on prior to joining RPIT as well. That didn’t mean things weren’t bumpy, in fact bumpy would have been putting it lightly. Alec got his arse kicked countless times and risked being infected by lycanthropy or vampirism, maybe he wanted to kill himself, he certainly didn’t know at the time, but he brought down his fair share of things and he liked it.

Two years later, he’s bumped his kill count into double digits, he’s not so much a known name in the hunter circuits though, and he likes it that way. Then in December of 2009, he got a call from his uncle that said his 10 year old daughter had been dumped on his doorstep during the night with a letter from Chloe saying she was sorry. Instead of going home and being the father figure in her life, Alec arranged for his uncle to become a legal guardian for Caitlynn. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to be her pops; it was because he couldn’t be it. He loved the thrill of the hunt too much to put her at possible risk. He still gets letters occasionally from Uncle Robert about her and things that he was missing out on and that’s enough for him and he’s seen her from a distance, twice over the last two years and laboured under the illusion that she would be safe from the monsters if she stayed away from him, the biggest one in her life. So he’s in Jackford, on the other side of the world from his baby girl. He hopes that it’s enough, but deep down, he’s not so sure of anything anymore.[/SIZE]

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