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dzmoot · 5 months ago

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SPIDERS OF THE LOST LARK (PART 4)

Another flashback, this one about 5 years ago....

BREAKING NEWS! The famous adventurer and archaeologist Minnestrota Webbes has gone missing. Spidery sources claim that Webbes disappeared somewhere in the Cassono system while searching for some sort of medallion. His close friend Saro states that Webbes is no stranger to getting into dilemmas and traps he couldn't get his way out of so he's incredibly hopeful Webbes will come back unscathed. Still, a missing spider alert has been issued to the nearby star systems.

The disappearance of Webbes hit the five spiders hard, especially Slinger. There would be no more adventures of his to watch on television and there would be no one for Slinger to idolize or fantasize being just like. Father Flydon understood his son's anguish but assured him that his destiny lied on a different path.

It's important to be inspired by those we look up to but it's impossible to be just like them. You will never be Minnestrota Webbes for there is only one of him just like there is only one Slinger. It's best to take the knowledge you've learned from him, learned from me, learned from your siblings and do your own thing with it. That's what will make you truly unique in this universe.

Slinger surely never forgot those words, even when he and the others departed Dinhcara just a few years later to end up on Kowratha's ship on the planet Gektidas. Shortly after her defeat and the spiders used her ship to transport all her prisoners home, the spiders took a slight detour before returning to Dinhcara, trying to find Webbes who was still very much unaccounted for. They had believed Webbes' ship had been encased, frozen in the great icy ring circling around Cassono but after scanning the ring several times over, they discovered no whereabouts of the spider. Thus, Slinger and the others came to accept that Webbes, the great hero was truly lost, probably dead. That bit of disappointment, the fact that there was no closure to the Minnestrota Webbes mystery hung over the spiders for years to come.

Agglo Vay, just the name alone sounded ominous. As Spidercron I soared right into the planet's atmosphere, the spiders looked at the observation screen to see strange trunked aliens climbing the mountaintops which were covered in a white powdery substance similar to what humans would call flour.

Slinger, Leaps, Weblette and Itsy Bitsy departed the ship shortly therefore. Eight Leggs insisted he accompany his siblings on getting the Lark but Cino advised against it, for it would take several hours for his arms to fully regrow. Itsy Bitsy promised her brother she would bring him a souvenir if he behaved. Upon setting foot on the surface, the spiders made their way to a place where strange monolith like structures levitated a few inches from the ground. They looked like giant floating pottery with hieroglyphic symbols carved into them and at the center of the odd place was one of the trunked aliens, however, this one was a little different from the rest. He had mechanical antlers with lights in them!

I AM ORAC, MASTER OF THE MONOLITHS! WHO ARE YOU AND WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE?!

Slinger made his way to the front of the team.

We are here in search of the great Lark of Eelio. We have the amulet which led us to here. Can you help us find it?

Orac quickly took the amulet into his gray, rectangular hands and observed it for a few moments like a piece of fine art. Then, the lights in his antlers started to flicker like a Christmas light show.

AH! I KNEW SOMEDAY SOMEONE WOULD COME FOR IT! BUT I MUST ASK YOU, WHAT DO YOU WISH TO DO WITH THE LARK?

Weblette took over.

Our queen Aggamillia has commissioned us to find it. In return, she will help save our father's school from demolition.

Then, a large ray of red light shot out from Orac's eyes, seemingly scanning the spiders like a metal detector. In reality, Orac was scanning them to read their minds to see if they were being truthful. When he discovered that they were, he handed the amulet back to Slinger and his antler lights began to flicker yet again.

AH! SO YOU ARE NOT EVILDOERS. YOU ARE NOT IN ALLEGIANCE WITH HER AS I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT.

The spiders were confused.

Who's her? What are you talking about.

It was time for story time with Orac.

A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY NOT TOO FAR AWAY WAS A TIME SORCERER CALLED NOWRATHO. NOWRATHO WAS COMMISSIONED BY FATHER TIME HIMSELF TO CREATE A POWERFUL MECHANISM, ONE THAT COULD TRAVERSE SPACE AND TIME AND TAKE THE ONE WHO WOUND IT UP BACK TO YESTERDAY, PERHAPS YESTERYEAR.

In short, time travel.

FATHER TIME FEARED THAT A GREAT CALAMITY WOULD UNFOLD IN THE UNIVERSE, ONE THAT WOULD LEAVE CIVILIZATIONS IN RUINS, MANY EXTINCT. THERE WOULD BE NO OTHER SOLUTION BUT TO TRAVEL BACK IN TIME AND STOP THE CALAMITY FROM EVER UNFOLDING, THUS STOPPING THE DYSTOPIA FROM EVER COMING TO FRUITION, SAVING OCTILLIONS. BUT NOWRATHO HAD A WICKED DAUGHTER, ONE THAT WANTED TO USE THIS MECHANISM, THE LARK FOR HER OWN NEFARIOUS DEEDS. SHE WOULD TRAVEL THROUGH TIME AND ALTER THINGS THAT DIDN'T GO HER WAY THE FIRST TIME AROUND, THUS THROWING THE MAIN TIMELINE INTO CHAOS. IT TOOK SEVERAL TIME SORCERERS A GREAT DEAL OF TIME AND ENERGY TO GET THE TIMELINE RESTORED TO IT'S PROPER ALIGNMENT. NOWRATHO'S DAUGHTER WAS BANISHED AND THE LARK, WHICH HE DUBBED OF'EELIO WAS BROUGHT HERE TO BE SAFEGUARDED, HIDDEN FROM HER.

So, it's not the Lark of Eelio, it's actually the Lark Of'Eelio? What does Of'Eelio even mean?

OF'EELIO MEANS TIME HARNESS IN THE LANGUAGE OF THE TIME SORCERERS. IF THIS QUEEN OF YOURS IS IN NEED OF THIS LARK, PERHAPS THE GREAT CALAMITY IS DRAWING NEAR. I WILL LEAVE YOU SPIDERS TO FIND OF'EELIO BENEATH ONE OF THESE MONOLITHS. I WISH YOU THE BEST. MAY THE PARTICLES OF THE UNIVERSE GIVE YOU STRENGTH!

And with those words, Orac departed, dissolving into a cloud of glittery dust. The spiders were on there own to get to the Lark, but how would they do it? Where would they start?

Arman's ship continued along the red residue. He was still in a great deal of pain from the torture inflicted upon him by his employer, who was continuously yelling at him from the back of the ship.

Pick up the pace you green skinned dunderhead! I WANT THAT LARK! I must have my revenge on those cursed spiders and those retched TOONS!

The employer finally came out from the shadows to reveal herself in all her glory.

KOWRATHA. Turns out she didn't meet her end at the bottom of the Gektidas sea after all! Though she was rusty and her joints squeaked and creaked and her body became the home to several pesky barnacles, she was determined as all hell to get the Lark and time travel once more. Her father Nowratho would surely be ashamed.

The spiders looked for several minutes, trying to find the right monolith but to no avail. Then Itsy Bitsy remembered something Anansi told them back on Dinhcara. The amulet was one of the eyes of a statue and wouldn't you know it, at the top of each monolith was a bust. They looked very similar to the ancient Sur-Kitts.

They started searching vigorously, climbing to the top of each pillar to see which one was missing an eye. It was very hard to tell from the ground. As each spider climbed up the monoliths, they could feel them slowly tremble in the air. They were starting to get a bit weary that they might collapse to the ground or break under their weight. They weren't the most durable structures after all, each one feeling as if they had a hollow interior like a flower vase. Still, the spiders pressed on.

FOUND IT!

Itsy Bitsy discovered the statue that was missing the eye and upon placing the amulet over the empty socket, it fuzed to the bust as if it were magnetic!

Then the stone bust began to lower itself down into the monolith. When it was completely inside, the symbols on the outside began to glow and the monolith slowly worked it's way down to the ground. When it touched the surface, the ground beneath the spiders disintegrated into pure sand and they all found themselves plummeting into a deep pit below. When they came to, all four spiders were in an underground well of some kind. Then, in the distance, they heard strange music playing, something akin to an old Russian dance tune. They all looked up to see a plethora of stone blocks soaring down towards them. They had to get out!

What is this, one of those video game thingies!

The spiders tried to get to the top as fast as they could but the blocks just kept coming. Each one of them tried climbing up the blocks as they came careening down and Leaps made a few good hardy jumps but they all got swiped by more incoming blocks and ended up back down below in the pit, nearly getting smushed each time. Not even shooting webs to swing to the top did the trick, they just kept getting cut off. As the well kept getting more and more full, the spiders got the hang of dodging the blocks and swiftly finagled their way out of the crevices before the well was entirely filled. They sure were lucky they weren't crushed to death, although one of Itsy Bitsy's antenna was severally bent in the chaos. A bit of a shame too considering Itsy Bitsy was one of the few spiders to have antenna. The spiders surely were exhausted after their ordeal in the pit but nothing could have prepared them for what they found next. As they worked their way towards a long hallway, the first thing to catch their many eyes was a corpse, not just any corpse, the corpse of a spiderocian!

Minnestrota, is that you?

His body, shriveled up and decayed had two long spears protruding from his cephalothorax. Turns out Webbes was after the Lark as well but he wasn't so lucky on avoiding the spears. The spiders were deeply saddened over their finding, but came to realize that the long hall must be heavily loaded with spears and if they wanted to avoid Minnestrota's fate, they had to act fast. There wasn’t even a ceiling for them to properly crawl over, so they’d have to get by on foot. On the ground below were letters, letters to some ancient alien language Weblette knew a little about.

I bet if we step over the letters that spell Of'Eelio, we'll avoid setting off the spear trap.

So the spiders carefully started walking on the ground to spell out the Lark's name but then....

Stop! I just remembered. In the old alien language, there are NO Os!

But it was too late. Itsy Bitsy had already stepped on an O, triggering the mechanisms in the wall and causing a barrage of spears to come flying out like bats out of hell. Leaps grabbed Slinger and Weblette as Itsy Bitsy clung onto his back and he and jumped, Jumped, JUMPED like no tomorrow until they were at the end of the hall.

To his dismay, a long spear was lodged in his abdomen and the other spiders worked together to pluck it out like a splinter. Needless to say, he wouldn't enjoy sitting down for a while!

Then, they all saw it. It was glowing gold and the jewels embedded into it glimmered like the most magnificent of rubies. It looked just like it appeared in Anansi’s hologram. At long last, the spiders had found the lost Lark. However, after remembering their ordeal on Junglexio and what happened after retrieving the idol, Slinger hesitated a tad to pick it up.

What if another giant skull comes out?!?!

They stood puzzled and puzzled until their puzzlers got sore, then they just decided to do what they always do.

Just grab the darn thing and if any booby traps or hazards emerge, sling away like hell!

Slinger did just that. He reached for the tiny metal Lark but to his great surprise, his hand just went right through it. He tried again and again and again but the Lark just passed through his fingers. It was like it was a ghost. Then, as the spiders stood frustrated, they noticed their surroundings suddenly start to fade away. Everything in the room, the walls, the pillar which the Lark stood on, the Lark itself faded away into a bunch of pixels.

It’s a hologram!

When it was all gone, the spiders saw thousands of computer chips and chords lining the walls and a mechanical hum filled their ears.

Well, it’s about time! I’ve been waiting here for an eternity for you sorry a-holes to show up!

The spiders looked up to see where that voice was coming from. They saw a large robotic bird made of gold dangling from the ceiling from hundreds of wires, squirming vigorously to get free. Weblette turned to Slinger.

I think THAT’s Of’Eelio!

Leaps put three of his hands to his face.

Well, this is the first time we’ve discovered an artifact that’s ALIVE! Undead alien mummies don’t count!

Of’Eelio, a stubborn bugger continued to squirm and let out a loud KAKAW! upon hearing Leaps’ words.

ARTIFACT! Oh, the universe still thinks I’m a cute little golden trinket that plays music, right? Well, it’s good to know my little mirage worked, but I sure thought that someone would’ve got to me by now. That Minnestrota guy came pretty close though! Gotta give the guy credit, he’s a hell of a fighter and I wasn’t expecting….

Slinger interrupted.

Okay, Mr. Lark, Of’Eelio, whatever. We’re going to help you get down, but only if you stop babbling and cooperate with us!

The Lark nodded. The multiple arms of a spider surely came in handy when unplugging his plethora of tangled cords and doodads. When he was fully unplugged, Of’Eelio told them about Minnestrota, how his friend Saro betrayed him and left him on Agglo Vay to die. Then the wicked Saro took the amulet and sold it to one of the bird creatures on Abbadon and how the amulet was accidentally put up for sale on the internet, leading them right to it.

He also told them about his creation at the hands of Nowratho and how he was abused by his retched daughter. When Weblette asked Of’Eelio the name of the daughter, they were cut off guard by a gunshot.

KOWRATHA! And she wants revenge on you spiders!

It was Arman and he was armed with a zapper. His brutalized appearance caught the spiders off guard at first. Slinger was peed off.

ARMAN! What happened to you? I knew you were onto us, ever since those bird troopers attacked us back on Abbadon!

Arman giggled.

Yeh, I know I’ve given you arachnids your share of turmoil but I’m getting a hefty payment this time around. Kowratha’s giving me a vast sum for that talking bird. Once I’m paid, I’m retiring to a nice tropical paradise planet. Maybe, I’ll get one of those robotic heads! And you spiders will be without your precious school!

Itsy Bitsy chimed in.

There aren’t enough robotic heads in the universe to make you look any better! And besides, Kowratha’s dead.

No, Incy Wincy!

That’s Itsy Bitsy!

Kowratha survived her ordeal on Gektidas. I was there, taking a brief vacation from my looting and what not. When I saw her get pushed into the ocean by that teddy bear thing, I dove in to save her. She thanked me, said I was like a son to her! I never knew my real mother, so she took me in. I knew I had to repay her in some way for that. I asked her what she wanted more than anything in the whole universe. You know what she told me?

Of’Eelio spoke.

Me, right?

No. Well, yes, in a way. She wanted her ship back. She wanted her tournament fighters to pit against each other. She wanted her Muggette Cino to drink coffee out of! She wanted revenge on ALL of you!

So let me guess, if Kowratha gets Of’Eelio, she’ll travel back in time and stop us from taking down her ship and freeing all her prisoners and she’ll be back to being a compulsive, controlling maniac?

Arman was silent for a moment.

Wow, you spiders surely are too bright for your own good! She’ll go back and kill your past selves and your little cartoon friends but I get to finish your present selves, right here, right now!

Arman pointed the zapper towards them. Leaps was prepared to pounce atop of him.

Arman, seriously? You think Kowratha is like your mother? I mean, what kind of crazy mother does this to their son. Just look at what she’s done to you. You’re a monster, inside and out.

Weblette smiled after hearing Leaps’ speech.

You don't have to be like her, Arman. You can be whoever you want to be. Don't let her control you like a puppet.

A fuze was lit inside Arman and he shouted like he never shouted before.

IT'S TOO LATE! I AM WHAT I AM AND NO LITTLE SPEECH FROM ANY OF YOU IS GONNA MAKE ME CHANGE MY MIND! YOU'RE FINISHED!

Arman prepared his gun, readying it to fire at the spiders. The four spiders braced themselves for battle when, to their surprise, Of'Eelio spoke to Arman, trying to reason with him.

Before you finish them off, I think there's something you should know. You see, your species, the Nuoobu, they grow out of the ground. When an old Nuoobu dies, their bodies dissolve into the ground and are reborn into new Nuoobu. You had no mother, no father. You just came to be. Those people at the orphanage you grew up in, they were full of shit when they told you otherwise. I know you longed for love, longed to be loved, but you really think Kowratha is mother of the year? I've been abused, tortured, thrown around like yesterday's trash by that haggard, three jawed, shrill voiced, cappuccino chugging bitch who I also might add, caused the death of her father at the young age of 3,900! WHY DO YOU THINK HE HID ME AWAY HERE? You better think about who your leeching off of son! She's not no June Cleaver, that's for damn sure!

And with those words, Arman slowly lowered his gun. He paused yet again, looked down at the ground, contemplating his decisions, choices he made throughout his life. The spiders couldn't be certain but they believed that he was about to say "I'm sorry" to them. They'll never truly know because shortly after, Arman was brutally bashed over the head by a giant, webby mallet. It was Eight Leggs!

His arms were still in their stubby stages but he had recuperated enough to aid his family. As Arman lay on the ground like a dumped sack of potatoes, the spiders ran up to their brother, thrilled to see him, although they were a little disappointed that Arman was never given a full redemption. Kowratha shortly after emerged, coming face to face with the spiders for the first time since their insurrection on her ship. She used her magic magnetic abilities to push Arman's corpse to the side as she swiftly hurled all the spiders against the nearby wall, tangling them up in the wires and cords.

Ah, yes, my dear eight legged freaks! I knew Arman couldn't dispose of you. I'll just let you all here as I travel into the past. Once I've killed you all there, you'll cease to exist here!

Itsy Bitsy opened her mouth to spew an insult but Kowratha quickly sealed her mouth shut with a cord. She then came face to face with the Lark Of'Eelio.

So this is where daddy hid you, my little Larkypoo! How I've missed you!

Of'Eelio wasn't having it.

You missed me because of who I am as a person or you missed me because I can take you back in time?

Kowratha smiled.

You know! Things will be different once I've corrected the past. I will never have to use you again. Now turn around!

Of'Eelio did just that and Kowratha wound up the wind up mechanism near his tail. The spiders watched as Of'Eelio's backside opened up, a music box tune playing softly like a lullaby. Out from his back came a light blue mist, swirling around like a great blue fog. It began to circle around Kowratha, somewhat illuminating her and causing her to light up like a bulb. However, as she started her journey into the past, she felt a great swell of pain all over her mechanical shell. She started screaming in agony and her body started burning up in a great blast of white light. The spiders wondered, was this normal for time traveling witches to go through?

Then, to their great surprise, Kowratha bursted into flames, completely orange and burning like a furnace. With one loud POP, flames spewed from her eyes like flamethrowers. She stood in shock for several moments and then fell apart into about 20 or so rusty metal pieces, dead as a doornail. What happened, they all wondered. Of’Eelio started chatting again.

Oh, I forgot to mention. I've been strung up on those cords for so long, my time travel mechanism got a tad rusty, doesn't quite work the way it should. I'm looking to have it fixed. Do any of you spider guys know a good intergalactic repairman I can go to? I'm pretty darn old, didn't I tell you? Borderline ancient! You're lucky your faces didn't melt off!

No place like home!

Everyone was delighted to be back on Dinhcara, this time with their mission being a success. Father Flydon congratulated the spiders on a job well done.

You have made me utmost proud. You have shown your great commitment to me and all the Spiderocians! And I know the Queen will be pleased as well!

Queen Aggamillia’s royal guards once again came to the spiders’ residence to take them to the palace. Once there and after hearing that the spiders had gotten the Lark, the Queen, who mostly sat upon her cushiony throne all day leaped into the air! When she landed, the entire fortress shook for several moments.

I knew it! I knew it deep down in my thorax that you wouldn’t fail. Now, let’s see that glorious Lark!

Of’Eelio revealed himself, leaving the queen looking as if she had just swallowed 20 or so lemons. Anansi, who was also nearby, stood perplexed. The Lark didn’t look a thing like it had been depicted in the holograms. And they were even more shocked when it started talking.

Look, Miss Queen Spider Lady! I am flattered that you’d like me to be part of your vast collection of old timy relics, but I’m afraid I have bad news. My time travel mechanism doesn’t work like it used too. The last person who tried to wind me up ended up making a fiery exit, if you know what I mean!

All the spiders shook their heads simultaneously.

If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to find an intergalactic tinkerer. Hopefully, he’ll fix me right up because you never know when time travel will be needed. Plus, I’d like to venture out a bit. Being stuck on that planet all these years is murder on the backside. I gotta stretch my wings a bit!

Aggamillia was still a little shell shocked. She didn’t really know what to make of all that was around her and what was being said to her. She made yet another face like she drank hot pepper juice and then, to everyone’s surprise, it morphed into the biggest grin you probably would ever see on an arachnid, literally.

Of course, you wonderful, glorious Lark! Just seeing you up close in person is enough for me. Go and have your adventure amongst the stars. Come back to Dinhcara whenever you’d like!

She then turned her attention to the spiders.

As for you five, I believe I owe you a little something for going through all that trouble. Your father’s Webjitsu academy shall remain intact!!!

The spiders were so thrilled over their success that they decided to have a little party that very same night. Everyone gathered around the nourishment hookah as usual as they listened to some of Eight Leggs and Itsy Bitsy’s music. Leaps decided to give his old trampoline a good bouncing for old time sake as Weblette hypnotized a couple of Tickocians to tap dance to the music. During the celebration, Slinger mentioned to Flydon the great calamity Father Time told Nowratho about, the main reason he made the Lark in the first place and if it would ever come to pass. Father Flydon, ever so optimistic in his old age, sat back in his chair.

Yes, perhaps there are dark times ahead, but that’s the future. This is now. Let us focus on this moment in time and let the moments to come take care of themselves!

THE END

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televinita · 2 years ago

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After putting it off for 22 months and rapidly running out of time for my existing name-change documentation to be legally valid, I have finally visited a social security office to get rolling on this official name change here. It was very stressful having to go to downtown Minneapolis even when I wasn’t driving, and not actually that stressful of a process, it just felt that way when

a) you arrive and there is a line of about 30 people outside the building because it’s already full inside

b) there are security guards and a metal detector to walk through (not actually a big deal, AND YET. I understand now why horses sometimes get fussy about going into trailers)

c) one of the people in charge is periodically yelling (to be heard over the noise of the room) that you can SCAN THIS QR CODE to GET YOUR APPLICATION STARTED ONLINE, WE PRIORITIZE PEOPLE WHO HAVE DONE THIS REGARDLESS OF YOUR TICKET NUMBER.

I of course have no idea how to scan a QR code (don’t you need an app of some sort? I don’t recall seeing an app for that on my phone, and I have limited data anyway and am unsure how much this would use up), so thank god I broke the request to come alone if possible and brought husband with me -- as an unnecessary extra seat-taking-up person, this is one of the reasons the line stretched outside -- he took care of that. Otherwise I might have sat there all day and possibly still not gotten in.

Most annoyingly, I SWEAR I have visited the SSA website a whole bunch of times looking for an online application, and could never find anything but the form to print out, and figured that made sense because of security reasons. (of course after getting home, I looked on there to see if there was a different card center we could have gone to -- I would much rather drive 200 miles one way than go that deep downtown ever again -- and practically tripped over it. ugh. I swear half of why I was putting this off was fear of not filling out the form right, and the online version was easier because it eliminated fields that didn’t apply based on your answers to earlier questions.)

ANYWAY, once I was able to fill it out on his phone, and we were called up, it took literally 5 minutes at the window. All I had to do was verify my reason for being there, show my marriage certificate and driver’s license, verify that my mailing address and name were correct on a printout of what I’d put in the online form, and boom. Other than getting through security, waiting was the hardest part -- I didn’t keep exact track of times, but I think we waited outside for about 45 minutes (having arrived 20 minutes after they opened, thank goodness for it still being near 50 degrees even in the AM), and maybe an hour inside? Def. would have been longer without that QR code...I understand now why they wanted people to start the online app, because otherwise I assume the reps would have had to enter a lot of info by hand from the paper form.

Now I just wait until it comes in the mail and then I can do...all of the...other name change things that I haven’t taken care of yet.

#a day in the life of televinita

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folkloreguk · 4 years ago

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❥ My Sweet Evil Heart (C.Chanhee)

A/N: I wrote this as part of an angel/demon collab for The Boyz! You can find the masterlist HERE. This was really fun to write and I got to live out my alternate universe dream in which I'm a detective...I hope you like it, I'm always welcome to any form of feedback!

genre: demon!Chanhee, detective!reader, angst, fluff, reader is constantly sleep deprived, Chanhee is the sweetest demon ever

synopsis: You, a highly respected detective in your department, are investigating a case of a very strange demon who seems hesitant to do evil...but can you trust someone who is supposed to be the personification of wickedness?

words: ~ 10.6k

Have you ever met someone deeply unhappy? Someone who seems to, at all times, be fighting a war inside of themselves? Have you ever felt empathy for somebody, even though they tested you, over and over, as if the worst part inside of them was trying to make them lose you on purpose? Did you hold on and never stop believing in them? Or did you say something to drive them away, making them think they would only hurt you in the process of you trying to make them see clearer?

This is the story of a demon, whose every cell demurred at his evil nature. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and start with the basics.

Being one of the head detectives at the local police station was not an easy-going, nor an amusing job. Whilst working on serious cases, lacking proper sleep was not an uncommon occurrence for you, and in some instances, self-care came up short until the mystery had been solved and the guilty ones were locked away. Every case pulled you in and swallowed you whole, keeping you deeply invested for days and nights until your brain felt like it had turned to mush and your body worked on autopilot, until you functioned a little like a highly intelligent zombie. And yet, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else in your life. The thrill was close to an obsession, and seeing justice being served thanks to your work was more addicting than any drug could ever be to you.

Most crimes in your world were committed by demons, of course. They were your worst enemies, the monsters you saw in your nightmares and the reason you never strolled down a street without a gun by your hip. It wasn’t forbidden for them to walk the earth, so long as they kept to themselves. Their evil nature made it almost impossible for them to uphold these terms, though. You wished you could lock them all away in some putrid prison cell, or better yet, send them back to where they crawled out from originally. But the law couldn’t convict beings before they had done anything wrong. So, it was on you to make sure you kept an eye on the sinister beings, figure out what they were up to and stop them before they could actually hurt somebody. Like that morning, when you were called to a liquor store to investigate a break-in.

“My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, I am the lead investigator,” you greeted the store owner with a handshake upon arrival. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“I came here this morning at around 7 to open up the store. When I got out of my car, I saw the broken glass of the window,” he explained.

“What was taken from inside the store?” you inquired further.

“That’s the weird thing. Nothing is missing from inside,” he said.

“We might just be dealing with vandalism,” you thought out loud. “Do you have security cameras?”

He did, and so you went along with him to the back of the store. It was true, the interior of the shop seemed completely untouched. You suspected whoever had done this had never even intentioned on entering. There was a college campus not too far from the store, and you recalled countless times you had witnessed careless vandalism done by some intoxicated students during a Friday night. It was a very human-like crime. Demons weren’t known to do things by halves. Their crimes were usually the go-big-or-go-home-type of crimes. But then, when you watched the security footage, you were stunned.

At precisely 3:29 am, a dark figure appeared in front of the window. They lifted their arms, swinging a baseball bat against the glass. And against your speculation, they did climb through the hole in the window. With no mask or disguise whatsoever, the demon man looked right into the camera in the corner of the room. The abyss of darkness in his pitch black eyes was unmistakable. He looked around, as if he was debating on whether he should have done more, but then, to your utter confusion, spun around on his heel and climbed right back out the window.

You assured the store owner you would be looking into this case. With nothing left to do, you headed back to the police station. You had taken the security footage with you, and the moment you arrived in your office, you played it on your computer screen. Over and over - only puzzling you more, with each rerun you saw. You worried this might only be a warning. Not seldom had you been a witness to demons playing with their prey, feeding off the fear of innocent souls. Was this one indulging in one of those little twisted games? Right away, you uploaded the demon’s face onto the database for criminals, even if vandalism didn’t compare to the serious allegations that stood against other faces on that list. While you turned your attention to other cases, his features wouldn’t leave your mind. Even when you left your office at night, he was still the most prominent person in your memory.

By the time you began your walk to your home, the sun had disappeared. You couldn’t help it, even if technically you could finish work earlier, your desire to solve your assigned cases was always higher. Had you just walked home at 5 pm, you were sure to end up on your computer at home, researching and digging around on the web to discover possible clues. This way, at least you had all resources you would need at your office at the police station.

Now, in the dark, the streets were rather abandoned, most shops had already closed, and the moon dimly cast light through the clouds. Those conditions were what made it a breeze for you to notice your shadow. The figure had been following you for 5 minutes now. Judging by how carelessly loud their steps sounded and by their not-so subtle choices of hiding spots, you could tell this wasn’t something they had practice in. Purposely, you didn’t turn around, so they wouldn’t realize you had caught on to them a while ago. Instead, only a minute or so from your home, you took a turn left into an abandoned alleyway. Your hand was on the gun in your belt.

Just as you had stepped into the alley, you turned. He was right behind you. With dark orbs glaring and teeth snarling he came at you, knife in hand. Your eyes widened – you recalled his face vividly – as you took in the situation in the blink of an eye. After all, you had watched the security tape of him breaking into the liquor store countless times only hours ago. But you had the upper hand from the very moment you had spun around. His build wasn’t particularly strong, but you knew you should never underestimate demons. You grabbed his shoulders and along with him, your body crashed against the red brick wall to your left. He struggled against your grip, but his determined and feisty expression was the by far the most intimidating part about him. His face was inches from yours but looking into the sort of darkness that were demon’s eyes did nothing to you. Your hand was around his wrist with the knife – which he was aggressively trying to bring down on you – but only at first.

Because suddenly, something uncommon occurred. So uncommon, in fact, that not a single cell in your body could believe it. He willingly dropped the blade. It hit the asphalt, the metallic sound echoing in your ears. He relaxed his arm in your iron grip. Demons never gave up. They fought until you had forcefully brought them to the ground or done worse to them. Their ironic god-complex and evilness didn’t allow them to step away from a fight – until this one had come along, apparently. And then, as if his behavior hadn’t already stunned you enough, he did the unthinkable.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Without a doubt you thought you had misheard him. Swiftly, you pulled your gun out of your belt and pointed it at his face. One thing you knew. You weren’t going to play along in his little games. In panic, he rose his hands, showing defeat.

“Quit playing games, devil’s son,” you hissed. “What is it you’re trying to achieve here? You’re sorry? For what?”

He was hesitant. With every second, your curiosity only grew. Either, he was a skilled actor or…you had no idea what else it could’ve been about him.

“I almost killed you. That’s what I’m sorry for,” he said. “Does that get me a prison sentence?”

Your eye twitched because this didn’t seem right at all.

“You broke into a shop and attacked me, but then stopped out of your free will,” you assessed the situation. “You’ll most likely get away with a fine and your name in our register.”

If you had been awaiting an evil grin or any sort of enjoyment in his face, you’d be waiting endlessly. If anything, he seemed to be…disappointed?

“But you’re a cop, right?” he said. “You can lock me up, can’t you?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? You won’t be locked up if you don’t commit a crime severe enough. As much as I hate it, considering you demons are running free, it’s the law,” you said.

“You don’t get it,” he said. And he was right, you really had no idea. “I should be locked up. You need to get me to jail before I hurt somebody.”

His face was dead serious, but you didn’t want to believe a single word. How could you, when your daily life consisted of hunting down his kind, because all they brought upon the earth was chaos and death?

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” you said, unimpressed.

“I will tell you anything you want to hear,” he said. “If you bring me to a police station. You guys have these lie detectors, don’t you? I will take a test if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”

So, that was how half an hour later you still hadn’t returned at home, but rather found yourself back at the police station. Almost everyone had gone home by now, so you took the liberty to choose the biggest interrogation room available. A few minutes and he was sitting in front of you, hands in handcuffs and his body connected to the lie detector.

“Okay, here’s how this works. I’ll start by asking some simple questions, and then we’ll get to the bottom of whatever your intentions are,” you explained.

“Alright. Go ahead,” he said. This was your first time seeing a demon take this sort of test. Usually, you couldn’t be bothered because you knew all they did was lie whilst smiling you in the face.

“What’s your name?”

“Choi Chanhee.”

“Where were you born?”

“In hell.”

“Did you break into a liquor store last night?”

“Yes.”

“Did you intend on killing me tonight?”

“…Yes.”

“Is that your definite answer?”

“…No.”

“How come both of your last two answers are lies?” you asked. “You didn’t intend on killing me, but yes is your definite answer?”

“I can’t stop the evil in me but I’m trying,” he said. You were stunned. The answer was the most truthful of them all.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I was never like the others since I came to earth. I’ve never felt a rush like they do, causing mischief and hurting humans. I don’t belong. It’s as if there was a demon inside of me, but it’s not controlling all of me, do you understand?” he said.

“I’m not sure, but go on,” you said.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody or destroy things. But on some days, I’m walking down the street and my body starts following the devil’s orders instead. I usually snap out of it quickly and stop myself. That’s why you’re still alive,” he explained.

“You’re telling me you’re some sort of good demon?” you asked. “Why don’t you go back to hell, if you’re struggling so much on earth?”

“I hate it there,” he said. “And either way, I’m banned from there forever.”

Your head raised as you stared at him.

“Banned?” you asked.

“I stopped a bunch of demons from killing a woman once,” he said. “Safe to say they weren’t happy to hear that, back at home. I couldn’t go back, even if I wanted to.”

“Can you tell me the name of the woman?” you asked. And he did. All this time, he really had been telling the truth. When you searched up the woman’s name in the computer, it only confirmed your suspicion. She really had been under attack when an unidentified person had interrupted and saved her life.

“I can tell you names of demons,” he said. “If you do me the favor of locking me up, I can sell out everyone I know about.”

You massaged the sides of your head and sighed. This guy really was one of a kind.

“I already told you, I can’t put you in jail for something you didn’t do,” you said. “That’s against the law, and then it’ll be me who ends up behind bars instead of you. I’ll have to let you go.”

“What if I mess up?” he said. The amounts of firsts you were experiencing in the timespan of an hour were giving you a headache. Never had you felt compassion for a demon before. But you were only human, and when you noticed the genuine concern and insecurity in his soft voice, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“How long have you been on earth for?” you asked.

“I don’t know, a few years, I guess?” he said.

“And in those few years, which of your deeds would you rate the most criminal out of all?” you asked. Any other demon would have been able to give you multiple answers, one more vicious than the other. He, on the other hand, took his time and even when he answered, he didn’t sound at all sure.

“I’ve broken into a house before, destroyed a car window and one time I stole a dog,” he confessed with his head tilted towards the floor.

“What happened to the dog?”

“I…gave it back,” he said. A laughter erupted from your throat against your will. In a friendly manner, you pat his shoulder before retrieving the keys to his handcuffs.

“Trust me, you’ll be just fine out there,” you said. “Whatever it is you’re doing to stop yourself from being evil, it’s working. I will let you go now."

Even though he wasn’t happy with your answer, he knew he had no choice but to comply. As you walked him through the hallways towards the exit of the station, you could only think of one thing: your beloved bed. Not only your body but especially your brain was drained from energy. You desperately needed a refill by getting a good night’s sleep.

“You’re the first person who’s been really kind to me,” he said, as you held the door open for him. The night air was cool, and you quickly zipped up your jacket to your chin.

“You gave me no reason not to be,” you replied.

“I almost stabbed you,” he said, bluntly.

“Almost.”

“For most people, me being a demon is reason enough to loathe me.”

“Well I guess I’m not most people,” you said. His smile was gentle, but his black eyes would always give him away. “I’ll be here at the station every day, if you have any concerns or need somebody to consult. But right now, all I want is my bed.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Good night,” you said, before you parted ways. Once more, you journeyed home. He remained on your mind until the moment you slipped off to dreamland that night.

The days passed without a trace of him. You followed your routine, but one thing you couldn’t help. You simply had to tell every person who worked with you about the changed demon you had met. No one really wanted to believe you. It was kind of understandable. Some thought you were testing their skills, seeing if they could figure out you were lying. Others went as far as to suspect your lack of sleep had given you hallucinations. But you didn’t let it go. And after all, you were a highly respected member of the police force. Some said they wanted to meet this demon gentleman, as they had renamed him.

But then you were called to a brand new homicide investigation and all of the jokes at the station were blown away by the intensity and buzz the case brought with it. You had a murder to solve. There was no place for sweet demon men in any part of your brain. Not for now. And as always, you slipped into old habits – staying up all night, living on coffee and quick meals – the toxic behavior was almost inescapable. Your fellow detectives tried their best to keep you healthy and most importantly, sane. They took you with them to get salad for lunch, invited you over for game nights (a futile attempt at giving you a break) and told you to go to sleep on time. After all, they needed your brain to function at full capacity for the case. You knew people were relying on your knowledge, and you weren’t doubting your capabilities. But a highly intelligent zombie was still a zombie. And so it happened that one Thursday night your boss sent you home. Not because you weren’t doing a good job – rather for of the opposite reason.

“You are allowed back at the station when you’ve caught a full night’s sleep. Do what it takes to take care of yourself,” your boss had said. Her tone displayed as much strictness as her eyes showed concern. Truth be told, you were too exhausted to even argue against her order. That’s when you knew. You really needed a rest. You dragged your body home.

“Hello sweetheart,” you greeted your pet bird, who chirped excitedly when you set foot into your apartment. “Guess what. I’m home early.”

As much as you wanted to drop into a slumber right away, your stomach growled. And you weren’t in the mood to wake up half-starved. As you prepared some left-overs from the fridge, you heard your bird call from the living room. “Peek-a-boo!” he sang. It caught your attention. He only played this game with you – when you were outside in your small garden and he was watching you through the window. So who exactly was he talking to, now?

You picked up a knife, because as a detective it was practically your job to be paranoid, and tiptoed into the living room. It would be harder for an intruder to spot you in the dark, so you pushed the light switch. Slowly, you advanced to the window and gently pulled the curtains aside. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw the figure standing between the trees. They didn’t seem to be hiding, if anything they were lazily resting their back against the garden fence. Maybe they weren’t aware you were watching them. Bold of them to assume they could intimidate you by acting so nonchalant. You cracked the window open slightly.

“If you don’t leave my property within the next ten seconds, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” you announced. The figure flinched. The moment he stepped into the moonlight and raised his arms, you remembered his face.

“Choi Chanhee?” You opened the terrasse door and stepped outside.

“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked, eyes glued to the knife in your hands. Quickly, you lowered your hand.

“What are you doing here?” you asked instead of answering his question.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted.

“And so you thought creeping around in a police woman’s backyard was an appropriate thing to do? Wait…have you been stalking me?” you asked. You should have cut back on the sharp tone, but you felt half-asleep and this was the last thing you needed. Plus, the immanent realization hit you, that you had not noticed him at all. You had been so caught up in your work that you had not recognized a demon lingering around your home address, watching you. It hurt your pride a little – and could have ended very differently, had it been a more malovent demon than the one standing in front of you. This one looked terrified, kneading his hands nervously.

“I thought you wouldn’t be upset with me…that maybe you would understand. Because you’ve been the only one who’s listened to me. I’m just trying to find a purpose,” he said, “And my head tells me you’re the right direction.”

Demons. They’ve always had a fondness for the dramatic. But his words tore at your heart strings. His behavior resembled a child who had done wrong and was in the process of being scolded.

“Do you have no home?” you asked, softening your voice.

“I’ve lived with other demons. But they don’t want me there, anymore,” he said. For obvious reasons, you thought. Your head was racing. There was no way you could leave him standing there in the cold. But letting a demon into your home sounded like you must have had a death wish. It’s not like you didn’t have enough space, though. With an extra guest bedroom that nobody had ever used before, he would be just fine. There was no excuse. You cursed your parents for making you get a bigger apartment “In case you got married and had children soon.” You never know what could happen, they had said. And how wrong they had been, but how right they had been on that last part.

“Would you say you’re a tidy person?” you asked. A gigantic yawn came over you, and once again your stomach grumbled.

“What? I mean…I think so?” he said.

“Are you hungry?” You were in disbelief. Maybe it was the zombie in you that had a heart so soft, it took pity on a demon.

“I’m starving,” he said.

And that was how you came to have dinner with a demon. Spoiler alert: It wouldn’t be the last time. You ate quietly, trying hard to fight tiredness but it was no use. Afterwards, you showed him the room he could stay in.

“How do I make this up to you?” he asked.

“We’ll think about that another time, alright?” you said, “I need to sleep now. I’ve got an unsolved murder case waiting on me tomorrow.”

That night, you locked your bedroom door and slept with your gun on your nightstand. Just in case. Even though you were almost fully convinced the demon in the bedroom across the hall was more harmless than a five-year-old, he was still a demon.

When you woke up and saw your boss’ message on your phone, you couldn’t believe it. She wanted you to stay at home for the day. Apparently, you needed the rest and she had no interest in getting into trouble for overworking you (which she obviously wasn’t, you were the one doing this to yourself). When you walked down the stairs, you had almost forgotten about the previous night. It felt a little like it had all just been one wild fever dream – that was, until you spotted the demon sitting on your sofa, your pet bird on his shoulder.

“I let him out, I hope that was okay,” he said. You were dumbfounded. “Listen, I just wanted to say…thank you. Tell me whatever you need me to do and I’ll get it done for you.”

You wanted to go to work. But you knew he would be no help making that possible. Your mind was already wandering off to your case, the tips of your fingers burning with anticipation to search the internet for clues. Your grumbling belly interrupted your eagerness.

“Um…you could go to the grocery store for me?” you asked.

You went back to work the next day. Unsure of what to do, you decided to keep your demon housemate a secret for now. The other detectives would have probably written you off as insane, and you needed them to take you seriously. To be fair, maybe you were a little crazy. But he had been really good on the first day. Only one incident, which involved him dropping an egg on the kitchen floor, stood out to you. Of course, that could happen to anyone. But any other person would not have apologized in the way that he did. Normal people wouldn’t have acted so guilty, had it been an accident. But as long as his malice remained to that extent, you could live with it. You almost laughed at the idea of him purposely watching the egg roll off the counter and not doing anything.

He sure was strange. But little did you know, his egg-dropping shananigans were only the beginning of his uncontrollable little pranks he would pull on you.

Once he let your bird fly out the window. When you came home you discovered him outside, talking to your bird, begging him to come back inside. Little did he know, all it took was a whistle and a few treats and you had him sitting on your shoulder, ready to go back inside. One night you returned home to find him staring at the ceiling in the dining room, a kitchen towel in his hand. When you asked him what he was trying to achieve there, he told you there was a mosquito sitting above him.

“So, why don’t you kill it?” you asked. He looked shocked.

“Kill it?” he asked, “We should probably just shoo it outside.”

That’s when you knew. Choi Chanhee wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. All those times you had worried about leaving him home alone with your bird vanished in an instant as you laughed.

“You’re right. Killing is one of the worst sins. But sometimes, especially when it comes to mosquitoes, you don’t need to worry about any consequences. If anything, I’ll be grateful,” you assured him.

Another instance made you think maybe you had been too quick to judge him as harmless. When you walked into your bathroom in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you almost jumped out of your skin. A red substance stuck to your mirror in what seemed to be random shapes. On impulse, you called his name. On second look, you realized what he had done. The red was merely ketchup, and the random shapes weren’t so random, but they spelled “meeting at 2 pm”. When Chanhee appeared in the doorframe, he already wore his sorry expression.

“What did you think you were doing here?” you said. “You know where the post-it notes are!”

“I- He- The demon in me wanted to scare you…I’m so sorry,” he said. It was difficult to be mad at him when he was so sweet. You had, after all, told him to remind you of your meeting you had that day. He was so easy to forgive, too. Whenever he went to buy groceries, he returned with a bouquet of flowers, and after he had figured out your favorite candy, he made sure you never ran out of your supply. You liked being alone, but suddenly it felt nice to have someone waiting for you at home. A warm sensation filled your heart whenever he asked you about your day during dinner.

Even if after dinner you had to argue with him as if he was your son, because the demon in him had decided to take on the form of a teenage boy who was too lazy to take out the trash. You were still seated at the table, rolling your eyes at the demon’s horrible attempt at being evil.

“Don’t make me ask you one more time,” you threatened him, although you didn’t know what you would have done had he continued to argue against you. Only when he reached for the knife that he had already put down tidily on his plate, your eyes widened. His knuckles were white around the metal and you leaned back instinctively. Your gun was still in your belt – you had sat down for dinner straight after returning home – but you didn’t want to use it. Not on him.

“Chanhee,” you spoke in a calm tone. His face was unreadable. He wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, his gaze was glued onto the blade in his hand, staring blankly. His eyes blinked, almost robotically. Something changed in his demeanor then. There was a tremble in the hand that was clutching the knife. It grew more uneasy by each passing moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you kept your eyes trained on him, trusting your reflexes.

“Fine,” he suddenly said in a grumpy tone. Then he dropped the knife. The metallic sound rang in your ears for seconds afterward. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding on to, as you watched him get up and retrieve the full trash bag from under the sink. You had been sleeping with your bedroom door unlocked for weeks. Even though it pained you, that night you locked your door again.

At 3:28 am you awoke to the sound of breaking glass. You allowed yourself to yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes for just a moment, then you were on your feet. Gun in hand, you opened your door. Across the hall, the door to Chanhee’s room stood ajar. Light came from downstairs.

“Chanhee?” you called quietly. No answer. But your ears picked up shuffling and the sound of shards of glass being moved around. You approached slowly, trying not to give yourself away. Then you heard the quiet sobs. Your arm with the gun dropped to your side when you stepped into the kitchen.

He was sitting on the floor like he was one of the shattered pieces of glass himself. When he saw you, he flinched and tried to dry away his tears. But it was no use. They kept coming, and you had already seen them either way.

“I dropped it on purpose,” he said, referring to the broken glass. Another sob went through his body, making your chest ache at the sight of him. “I’m sorry.”

“I have nine more of those. It’s alright,” you assured him. Gently, you sat down by his side. You put your arms around his hunched frame. He stiffened at first but calmed his muscles after a moment and let you hold him.

“Shh, it’s okay,” you said. Whatever it was that was hurting him so much, you’d be here to fight it off for him.

“I can’t stop the evil in me,” he cried. His weeps seeped through your skin and tugged at your organs. It felt like a thousand tiny, sharp needles in your heart.

“It’s a part of you. It’ll never fully go away. But look at you, you’re doing such a good job holding it inside of you,” you whispered. He shuddered.

“I tried to kill you,” he stated. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so kind. You do all this for me, and I tried to kill you.”

“But you didn’t,” you said. “And that’s what counts. We all have urges inside of us…but it’s what we end up doing that truly counts and makes us who we are.”

“But it’s so hard,” he cried. His face was in the crook of your neck as he sniffled. The small teardrops that touched your skin felt like ice. “And all I do is bother you. I’m an inconvenience. Why don’t you just lock me up with the other demons? Why give me another chance every time I mess up?”

You couldn’t believe he would hate himself so much. Chanhee had more compassion than a lot of the humans you knew had. Some days he sat and pet your bird for hours just because it made him happy, he always had money on him to give to the homeless people in front of the grocery store and he almost cried thinking he forgot to pay for an item at the store (which you had obviously paid for).

“How could you even compare yourself to other demons?” you said. “If you want, I will take you in to work with me sometime. Then you’ll see the atrocities others commit. Even among humans, you’d still be sorted into the best of the best. I believe in you and that you will do good.”

He only sobbed harder at what you had said, and you felt the need to pull him in just a little tighter. You softly rocked your bodies in an attempt to calm him down.

“I would fall apart without you.” Between the hiccups and tears his words sounded like a broken confession, but that’s why they hit so hard.

“You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” you whispered, lips right by his ear. Your hands were in his hair, stroking his head as if you could pour all your emotions into this one gesture. What else could you do to show him you would never abandon him the way his demon people had? And it seemed to do the trick. His fists that had been clutching your shirt loosened up and his sorrowful crying turned into mellow breathing on your skin.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked. “Let’s get you back to sleep. Tomorrow things will be better.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well for three days,” he said. “But I need to clean this up first.”

He let go of you and started to pick up shards of glass. There was still a haggard expression on him, and his cheeks were painted red and tear stained. And yet he was determined.

“Let me do this,” you said, touching his arm. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. Go to bed, Chanhee.”

This time, he didn’t argue. But his good behavior didn’t stop the apologetic, almost battered look at you. He knew you would be by his side no matter what – but what he needed most was his own forgiveness. And you could tell by the way he spoke about himself that it would take a while until he was ready to accept himself as he was.

You heard his heavy steps on the stairs as he walked to his room. Quickly, you gathered the biggest shards of glass and then used a hand brush to collect the tiny pieces. This wasn’t what you had signed up for when you had taken him in. You thought you’d have to argue with him daily and that you’d miss having your personal space and privacy. You knew it would be new, living with another person after living alone for so long. But nothing could have prepared you for the way Chanhee had swept you off your feet with his adorable charms. You didn’t need to fake excitement when you came home to him, nor did you ever have to force yourself to tell him about your day or have any conversation with him, for that matter. He was truly enchanting with the way he made you care so much. Especially when you had assumed all demons were your sworn enemies.

When you finally dragged your tired body upstairs, you softly pushed open the door to his room, only to see him lying wide awake.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked. “Even though you’re so exhausted?”

“No,” he spoke. Even his voice made no attempt at hiding the sleepiness. His look was pleading. “Can you please stay with me…just for a little while?”

There was no way you could say no to his lovely gaze and messy hair and outstretched arms. So, you crawled in next to him under the covers. Your faces were inches apart. The last time you had been looking into a demon’s eyes this close-up he had been lying face-up and dead on the side of a road. Those eyes had been lifeless, and yet you felt like they had still held so much ferociousness, even in death. Now you only saw concern and genuine care in the black orbs across from you. You admired his softly sculpted face. It was one that seemed like it would much rather belong to an angel.

“You’ve been working so much,” he whispered. “You must be much more tired than me.”

“I’m used to it,” you said, “I enjoy my work because I’m doing it to help others.”

“You’re a good person,” he stated. There was something in his voice you couldn’t make out. Regret? Admiration?Maybe it was both.

“So are you, Chanhee,” you said. Without second thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek. He didn’t flinch nor pull away. Instead, his pretty lips curled into a smile as he closed his eyes, ready to finally drift off to dreamland.

From that night on he seemed to improve a little, day by day. No more breaking things or having to argue about simple house chores. It occurred to you almost as if he had turned into something more human – so much that you dared to take him to work with you. People there had found the idea of your new demon friend strange, and you were sure some would take more than a little convincing to let down their guard around him. You couldn’t blame them for the prejudices – you had once been the same, after all. But Chanhee was okay with it, even when you had explained to him that some people might hate him, just because of his black eyes and what they meant to people. He had lived years of receiving that sort of treatment. Nonetheless, it pained you to think about how used he was to it. It took bravery and thick skin to walk into a police station the way he did that day. He was fascinated, looking behind the scenes. Perhaps you found it amusing how alarmed everyone was when they first laid eyes on him at the station. His ability to turn around their views of his species within twenty seconds or less was nothing but astonishing. He very willingly took it upon himself to walk down to the nearest coffee shop and order ten cups, also earning him the sympathy from the last few sceptics. When you were deep in conversation with another detective, discussing the possible whereabouts of a highly wanted demon, Chanhee suddenly interrupted you.

“I know an underground club where they like to go after…committing crimes,” he said. “Every demon in this city knows about it.”

At that moment you realized his full potential and what good he could really do. That was, if he was ready to sacrifice his people. But he just had – without even blinking. He could be an immense help to you.

“Young man I can see you have a bright future, should you ever decide to join the police force,” said your boss from across the room. Seemed like she had the same idea as you. Chanhee only smiled shyly but couldn’t hide the glint of pride in his eyes.

The following days you instantly made arrangements to get Chanhee an interview with the head of the station. He had been scared, at first.

“What if the other people there hate me?” he suspected.

“They might make assumptions about you in their heads, you know, because you’re a demon. They only know demons to be evil. But the moment they realize how good of a person you are, I promise they’ll change their mind,” you said. “You’ll be precious to us, and if you want to do good, the police is where you can be the most helpful. You’ll change lives, maybe even save people.”

“Yes, I want to help,” he said. “I’m done with my kind.”

“I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow,” you assured him. “If you’re too anxious to come in to the station, maybe she’ll allow you to work from home, from my office here. This is just a try, okay? If you really enjoy this work, you’ll have to learn and earn your badge.”

The way he looked at you filled you with so much pride. He seemed to have found some hope. Like he could finally spend his time in a productive and truly good manner. You couldn’t wait to see how he would do.

A tiring day and many discussions with higher-ups at workplace later, you returned at your home, late at always. Your fingers tingled with excitement and you wanted to yell for Chanhee the moment you walked through your door. You had managed to score an internship for him at your station. He was allowed to start as early as the following week. As you walked up the stairs, following the shuffling noise you heard, you imagined his face when you told him the news. You knew he’d be ecstatic. His smile would make you so happy, and you almost grinned at the mere thought of it. The noises were coming out of your office.

“Hi, Chanhee. Guess what my boss-,” you started. Then you fell speechless. Paper was scattered all over the floor. Drawers stood wide open. The orderly sorted piles of case files you had been working on were dispersed into every corner of the small room. Photos and pieces of paper were falling out of the folders. And in midst of it all stood Chanhee.

“Y/N- I’m so-,” he said, helpless.

“Don’t,” you said. Every ounce of excitement was gone from your voice, replaced by an ice cold tone you didn’t know you had in you. He flinched, but you couldn’t keep in what you had to say. “You’re impossible. I can’t fucking believe this! These are real cases, Chanhee! I’m trying to save real people here! This isn’t some broken mirror or a spilled cup of water. I can look past a shattered glass, but this is too much…I honestly thought you were getting better…”

Somewhere you knew you were being too harsh. But your job was your entire reason for existing. This was your life mission, laid out in front of you as if a hurricane had rampaged through the room. It would take days for you to rearrange the files. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find the correct places for each piece of paper.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking because he was about to cry.

“I don’t want to see you right now. Please get out. I need to clean this up and you can’t help me with this,” you said, trying hard not to scream out of frustration. Your eyes were already scanning the floor. You had no idea where to even start. With low-hanging shoulders and teary eyes that were threatening to spill over, Chanhee slipped past you. He granted you one more look before he scurried out of the office like a frightened animal.

Even though your stomach was grumbling from starvation and you could barely stay awake – as always – you needed to get some of the cleaning done. Now. Or you would go insane. Plus, you needed time away from Chanhee. While you collected the paper from every inch of the wooden floor, guilt slowly started to nag at you. You had never raised your voice at him to this extent. And he was sensitive. It wasn’t his fault, that’s what you always told him when he blamed himself for messing things up. He knew that. You cursed at yourself. How could you be so impulsive? All too well you knew how he felt about his demon half. You were supposed to be there for him, to tell him he was doing a good job and to make sure he didn’t beat himself up. Now you had achieved the complete opposite. A dull ache in your chest accompanied your hungry stomach.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. In a haze, you stepped down the stairs and to the door. You needed to apologize to Chanhee. When you opened the door, a delivery girl from your favorite restaurant stood there, handing you an order. You were puzzled.

“Already payed for,” she checked with a beaming smile, “Enjoy your meal!”

“Thank you,” you said, voice numb. Before you knew it, she had turned on her heel and was on the way back to the car.

“Chanhee! Your food is here,” you shouted, assuming he was the one who had made the order. You got no answer. When you set the bag down on the kitchen table, you saw a note, addressed to you.

Y/N,

Words can’t express how sorry I am about what I’ve done. All my life I only wanted someone to love me. In you, I thought I might have found what I had been searching for all this time. But I messed up. I always do. I drove you away from what we had. I’ve wondered why I always end up disappointing people. Now I know it’s because it’s the only thing I’m truly good at. You deserve someone you can trust blindly, someone who will walk through fire for you, someone who will take a bullet for you. I can’t give you that. I can’t even trust myself. Thank you for giving me a home and for being the most generous person I have ever met. You will always be in my sweet evil heart. Don’t worry about me too much. I will find my way and you will find yours. Who knows, our paths may cross again. I ordered your favorite food. I know you’re always starving when you get home from work. Enjoy it and don’t let it go cold. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight, and don’t forget to take your water bottle with you tomorrow, you left it here this morning.

I’ll hold you in my happiest thoughts forever,

Chanhee

You only snapped out of your motionless state when one single tear dropped down your cheek and onto the note. A heavy blanket of sorrow and regret sunk into your whole body. The emotions seeped through your skin and before you knew it, you were a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. You wanted to take him in your arms and tell him you forgave him. Hell, you had forgiven him minutes after you had yelled at him. You should have gone to him then. Had you only apologized quickly enough, perhaps he’d still be here. Then he’d be eating dinner with you, and although you’d be frustrated, you both wouldn’t be alone.

Your tears fell into your food while you ate it, unable to control your sadness and frustration you had against yourself. They mixed with the shower water as you stood in silence under the hot stream, overthinking everything. Your pillow was wet from the crying as you struggled to fall asleep. Like a broken-hearted zombie you trudged across the hall and into his room. Chanhee’s covers still smelled like him and you hugged them tightly, as if you could hold a piece of him and bring him back that way. But there was nothing you could have done. He had left, and it was alone your fault.

The next day passed like a vivid fever dream. While you were sat in your meeting, you couldn’t possibly focus on the case your team was discussing. Instead, you pondered whether your makeup was able to conceal your puffy face and the dark circles under your eyes. If it was obvious, at least people didn’t seem to point it out. Maybe they were so used to seeing you tired that it would take a lot more than some tiredness and lack of concentration to arise concern. It was the first time in years you really wanted to go home after work. In fact, you couldn’t stand the laughter and good mood at the police station for one more second. All you wanted to do was scream and cry, and seeing people joke around without any idea about your feelings only intensified your desire. Of course, you could have confided in somebody. But you were afraid they would tell you Serves you right or I told you. You don’t think you’d be able to handle those blatant assumptions and the mocking.

Your plan for the night was set: You’d sit in the bathtub for half an hour, then you’d wrap yourself into a human burrito in a blanket and fill your brain with some brutal movie that would make your life seem like it was mere child’s play. But as most things in your life lately, nothing went as planned. Because after only five minutes in the hot tub, your phone rang on the other side of the room. The first time you ignored it. You really tried. But then it rang again, and you looked up to see the caller ID. It was your boss.

You groaned and quickly stood up, not giving up on the prospects of a peaceful night just yet. But then you heard her message – a break-in at a bank, one dead bank employee, five hostages, a possible shoot out. They were calling for back up. And when there was a chance to throw bad guys behind bars, the most inviting bath or an exciting movie suddenly turned dull.

Not fifteen minutes later you had jumped out the bath, gotten dressed in your uniform, taken your gun and ammunition, and were pulling up at the scene your boss had ordered you to. The bank was in the city center, close to the main square. The police team was stationed in a side street. Some of the team had already been sent to the front of the bank, where the police was attempting to make contact with the robbers.

“They’re holding four hostages in the back of the bank. One of them is at the front, right by the glass doors for us to see. The robbers have guns to their heads. If we come closer, they’ll shoot them,” your colleague informed you.

“Demons?” you asked. Against your will, Chanhee appeared in your mind. You wondered how he was doing. Was he hiding out in somebody else’s garden right now? Had he found a bed to sleep in? Then you quickly shook your head. This was not the time for heavy emotions of any kind.

“Yes. Five of them,” your colleague added. You huffed.

“What do they want us to do? Are they demanding anything?” you asked.

“They want us to let them leave with the money,” she said. You grinned bitterly and nodded.

“What about the back entrance?” you asked. You knew the layout of this bank and had been there multiple times in the past.

“That’s our route. Besides the one at the front, the other demons are inside the bank. The entrance isn’t guarded. A team of four will go to the back and try to sneak up on them. When we have a clear line of fire on all the robbers, we’ll take them out at the same time,” she explained.

“Alright,” you nodded, fixing your bulletproof vest around your upper body. You were ready for this. To others, missions like these would have been nerve-wrecking, and you would have been lying if you said you were completely calm. But the adrenaline was already rushing through your body, and fear was something you hadn’t felt since your very first operation.

“All ready?” your colleague asked the other two members of the team who would go into the bank. You received nods and professional expressions. You had all trained together and were used to functioning like one unit. Sticking close together, you rounded the bank, using a side street so the demons wouldn’t see you approaching. In your ear, the voice of your boss was giving orders and checking in on you. The street was dark and devoid of any life except for your team. Multiple of the surrounding streets had been evacuated and shut off to the public. The scene had something straight out of a heist movie. Except this time, the robbers weren’t going to pull of the perfect theft and get away. You would make sure of it.

“We’re almost there,” you said. “Twenty meters to the entrance. Awaiting permission to go inside.”

“You have permission,” your boss spoke over your earpiece. One last look at your teammates, and you were on the move. Sneaking inside soundlessly was easy. The backrooms were all empty. As you passed abandoned offices, you saw knocked over office equipment and paper scattered on the floors. Lamps had been left on and you heard the faint buzzing of a running computer that was most certainly unoccupied. Moving swiftly, you walked along the corridors, guns pointed ahead at all times. Your teamwork was untouchable. One of you made sure the path was clear, then the rest followed.

“You are one room away from the entry hall,” your boss said.

“Understood,” you answered and slowed down your steps. A cat wouldn’t have been able to walk more silently than you did. Now your ears picked up voices. Somebody was crying. There was shuffling of feet on marble.

“Shut up!” a male voice yelled. The crying faded out into muteness. In the dark, you could make out figures. A few countertops and a good distance separated you and your team from the demons and the hostages. You nodded to your colleagues and they understood. The four of you parted ways, moving into the room and taking shelter behind the bank counters. Once again, you checked the situation. Close to you, four hostages sat on the floor. A woman was still crying, and you could tell she was struggling to keep herself quiet. Around them, four demons stood, dressed in black. Their ski masks kept their faces hidden, but their body languages told you enough. They were not to be messed with. By the far entrance, the fifth demon was positioned with the remaining hostage, and you could spot the police cars outside in the town square. From behind your hiding spots, each of your teammates had a clear line of fire on the demons. The fifth one would be taken out from police outside the bank. You were just about to send a signal to your boss to let her know you were in position. Suddenly, the scraping of feet on the floor alarmed you.

“What was that?” one of the demons barked. The noise had come from your colleague beside you, who was now flinching. You had no time to think. No time to complain about her mistake. If you didn’t act now, they were going to close in on you.

You jumped up, pointing your gun at the closest demon. Right away, the remaining demons had their guns aimed at the hostages’ heads. Your colleagues had done as you, guns held towards the demons. Now you got a proper look at them. They were towering over the hostages, who were crouched on the floor in intimidation. The one in front of you only chuckled. Humans didn’t laugh like this. It was pure malice and recklessness displayed in front of you.

“I thought we told you to stay away,” he began. The only thing you could truly note about him was his mouth. The rest was covered by his mask and where the white of eyes should have been, two orbs of darkness sat, eying you like prey.

“Let the hostages go and we won’t shoot you,” you ordered, with a surprisingly calm voice.

“And why would we do that when we can just kill them?” he asked. His gaze momentarily focused on his fellow demons, as if he was a stand-up comedian and he had just delivered the funniest punch line.

“You will die if you harm even one of the hostages,” you stated.

“Oh, is that so? Humans never learn, do they?” he said. This monster was completely insane. And suicidal too, it seemed. “Go on, shoot.”

First, you thought he was urging your team to shoot. Then you realized, he was looking at the demon closest to you. The very demon you had your gun pointed at. He was asking the other demon to shoot at the hostages. You were preparing to pull the trigger.

But then your mind started racing. You stared at him intensely as your heartbeat quickened uncontrollably in your chest. The dark eyes. The soft lips. His skinny frame and gentle hands. You knew exactly who this demon was. You’d be able to pick him out of any crowd. What the hell was he doing here?

“Shoot!” the bigger demon shouted again, but Chanhee didn’t budge.

“I told you he was goddamn useless,” one of the others said. “Get rid of him.”

“You don’t deserve any of this money,” the bigger demon snarled, and his hand went to his belt. You knew there were human lives on the line. What you were about to do could be considered not only stupid, but wildly imprudent. Emotions were supposed to be left out of police operations. But how could you not have been blind with shock? You were going to let your heart control your body over your mind, and if it was deadly so be it. The bigger demon was now raising his arm at Chanhee.

Before you knew it, you had jumped out from behind the counter. You mirrored the demon’s actions and you pointed at him, pulling the trigger. At the same time, his gun went off. Just in time, you had pushed your body between the two demons.

“Y/N!” Chanhee shouted.

The bullet hit your shoulder and you fell backwards. Burning heat spread through your insides as you stumbled and reached for anything, anyone to hold on to. You could only think of Chanhee, and how your bullet had pierced through the big demon’s skull perfectly. Then, your colleagues opened the gunfire. The shots sounded almost muffled through the intense amount of adrenaline in your blood and the initial effect of being hit. Your body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and a wave of agony spread through you. You grimaced at the excruciating pain, hands grasping at your shoulder. All you could see was white, before you sank onto your back and the world went dark.

~approximately 18 months later~

“Y/N,” Chanhee said, for the sixth time within the last ten minutes. You pressed your phone harder against your ear, holding it up with your shoulder. Your hands were too busy writing a police report on your laptop.

“Chanhee, I promise I’m writing the last few sentences already,” you assured him. He liked it when you came home early, leaving enough time to relax on the couch with him, instead of falling into bed like a corpse. Today, he was especially insistent, urging you to stay on the phone with him until you had finally packed up your things and left the police department. You guessed he was just trying to make sure you couldn’t stop somewhere along the way and start working on something new. And maybe that fear wasn’t so far off the truth.

“I’m done,” you said. “Status report: I’m switching off the laptop. Now I’m taking my bag. I’m getting up. I’m locking my office behind me. I’ll be home in twenty minutes or less.”

His laughter on the other side of the line made you smile. You couldn’t wait to see his face and get to hug him.

“Alright. I can’t wait,” he said. “I’ll see you.”

The walk home was calm. A soft breeze went through your hair and in the distance, you heard sirens of an ambulance. Promptly you were catapulted back to your memories and into the vehicle after you had been shot. Going in and out of consciousness, you kept repeating one name: Chanhee. When you woke up in the hospital bed, you half-expected him to be sitting there, waiting for you to wake up. But of course that was not the case. He had committed a crime – or at least tried to commit one. The prosecution was in his favor. They acknowledged his compliance with the police and his hesitation to hurt the hostage. Plus, he sold out the other demons and showed no resistance at any point. His regret and sorrow was apparent, nonetheless his mistake caused him 11 months in prison – by far less than the other robbers got.

People had called you insane for standing by him. Others thought you brave and newspapers named him the first good demon in the world. Every week you visited him in prison, often more than once. You made the most of your short time to talk, and with your kindest words you let him know that you were still here for him. Every visit you learned a bit more about how he had ended up in that bank.

After he had walked out on you, he had nowhere to go. So, after strolling the street mazes for days he found himself in the very demon night club he had once warned you about. Most unsavory figures twisted his mind into thinking doing good was no use. They made him believe he would never be able to escape the demon in him, and he might as well embrace the malice. They more or less pulled him along to the robbery, while he overthought the whole thing. It hurt you, seeing him cry as he recounted how scared he was when he saw the hostages. Some of them ended up injured, but all survived. You knew he would have never forgiven himself, had one of them died.

The day you picked him up from prison was a day you’d never forget. Holding each other in your arms felt so right, and you had missed it tremendously. His months at the prison hadn’t been easy, but you made sure he felt loved and cared for when he finally returned. He almost refused to believe that you would open your doors to him again. It was no question to you. You’d always be here for him. Even when he insisted you keep your office at home locked at all times. You trusted him almost a hundred percent by now. His demon only came out rarely, especially in times of stress or intense negative emotions. But you only treated him with kindness, and he gave back just as much of it.

“Chanhee I’m home!” you shouted as you entered your home.

“I’m up here,” he spoke. You ran up the stairs, excited to see him. Your eyes fell onto the open door of your office. For a moment, your heartbeat quickened as you approached it. You must have forgotten to lock the door that morning. Slowly, you pushed it open.

“Hello,” he grinned. You only chuckled as you watched him, sitting by your desk, a book in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind me being in here. This chair is so comfortable.”

“It’s all good,” you said. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Umm…Friday?” he asked.

“It’s been exactly two years since you first started living here,” you said. “I think we should get some take out and celebrate, what do you say?”

“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” he said. “I’d love that. And you know what? I think I’m ready to start the internship at the police station.”

You smiled proudly. He had put his book down and was getting up.

“You’re going to do good things,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. He finally had found his place. His home. And you were never going to give up on him.

#chanhee scenarios #new scenarios #tbz new scenarios #tattoos #the boyz icons #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz angst #tbz fluff #chanhee fluff #chanhee angst #chanhee x reader #kpop fluff #kpop angst #demon au #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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melancholicslaughter · 3 years ago

Text

🎡🎡🎡

when the waiting game ends

The state fair has come to Texas.

Eddie had been talking about going back home to take Chris to the state fair for months— it was all he talked about some lazy days at the station, and his enthusiasm made everyone else on the A-shift just as excited. Hen and Chim had insisted they make it a family trip, as in the whole 118 family. There hadn’t been time to make that happen, much to Buck’s disappointment, but somehow Buck found himself included in the trip plans anyway.

He wouldn’t have said no either way, but Eddie had practically begged Buck to come along— something about needing an excuse to avoid staying at his parents' house while they were in town. Buck could understand wanting to avoid annoying parents, and he can’t help but get excited at the prospect of going to the Texas state fair with his two favorite people in the world, so he’d agreed.

If he’d known Eddie would have talked him into driving the whole way from California to Dallas, though, he might have reconsidered. 24 hours trapped in a car with Eddie and his horrible taste in music and Christopher, who needed to pee every 5 minutes, was a nightmare Buck wasn’t eager to repeat on the drive home.

They’d booked a room at this small hotel— it was this close to being a motel, but it just barely made the cut— with two twins, Eddie and Christopher on one and Buck on the other, despite Buck’s insistence that it was a completely unfair arrangement. They didn’t spend much time in the hotel, though, as the next morning they were up super early— Buck had no clue why they needed to eat breakfast at 6 am— to drive to this authentic Texan diner for breakfast, and then they were off to the fair, which immoderately made Buck realize why breakfast was so early. They nearly missed out on a parking spot across the street from the fair, and if they’d come any later, they'd probably had to have parked miles away.

The wait to get in was insane— Eddie said he’d already bought them tickets the night before because most people bought tickets the day of— and when they finally got through the metal detectors and the bag checks, Buck was beyond relieved, as was Christopher.

“Finally!” he’d said, slumping against Buck.

They’d watched a clown juggle when they first got in; they followed around a man on stilts until Christopher got distracted; then they’d sat on these hot metal bleachers and watched a man wrestle an alligator. It was barely wrestling but Buck and Chris were both highly entertained— Eddie immediately took a video for Hen and Chim of Buck after catching him actually enjoying the performance and cheering the wrestler on.

Now, they’re wandering through the fair, Christopher holding both Buck and Eddie’s hands, swinging his arms between them.

When they pass the second ferris wheel at the park— Eddie explains that because the fair is for the whole state, there are three of every ride and attraction— Christopher tugs on Eddie’s sleeve, his eyes crinkled as he smiles. “Dad, can you see the whole fair?”

Eddie looks between his son and the looming structure ahead of them— a bright blue and red ferris wheel covered in blinking stars— craning his neck to gaze up at the carriage at the peak of the wheel. “You mean from the top of the ferris wheel, buddy? I’m sure we will. Why? Want to get on?”

“Yes!”

“We’ll probably be able to see the car from up there, too,” Buck adds as they make their way toward it, trying to find the place where the line ends. “Maybe even your old house—”

“—oh, follow me,” Buck says, interrupting himself, pointing to the end of the ferris wheel line, which extends a little ways past the ride itself. “I think this is where the line ends.”

“That’s silly! Our old house is too far away!” Christopher giggles, and Eddie rolls his eyes at Buck as they take their place in line behind a man with a very sweaty back.

“Buck has never really been in Texas like this,” Eddie says, leaning down to Christopher, voice dancing on this line between teasing and explanatory, his body language— the way he’s tucked towards Christopher’s side, the way he’s looking back at Buck from the corner of his eye— conspiratorial. Buck looks at the two of them, his Diaz boys, and can’t help but smile. What a funny little group the three of them make.

“Buck isn’t a real Texan like us,” Christopher says.

“Not like us,” Eddie agrees. “He’s so LA, he’s probably never even ridden a bull before.”

At that, Buck cuts in. “Hey, I’ll have you know, I’ve lived all over the country before I moved to LA. I wasn’t even born in California— I’m from Pennsylvania.”

Eddie leans down to Chris again to not-whisper in his ear, “Yeah, he definitely hasn’t ridden a bull before,” earning himself another round of giggles.

Buck rolls his eyes, lips betraying him as they spread into a smile. “You know that I can hear you, right?”

“It’s okay that you aren’t a real Texan, Buck! You can be an honorary one,” Christopher says, patting him on the hand.

Eddie tries not to laugh, but Buck catches him, meeting his eyes with this attempt at annoyance and betrayal that just comes across as incredibly fond. “Thank you, Christopher. At least someone is being nice to me today.”

“I’ve been so nice to you! I stopped you from wearing that sweatshirt and from leaving your water at home. You would probably be dead right now if it weren’t for me,” Eddie shoots back as he leans into Buck, his shoulder brushing against Buck’s chest.

“At best, I’d have heatstroke. And lucky for me,” Buck retorts, also leaning in towards Eddie, the toe of his sneaker nudging the toe of Eddie’s. “I’m here with a medic and superman—“

“Yes!”

“So I think between the two of you, I’d be covered.”

Eddie shakes his head and looks between Buck and Christopher, who wraps his arms around Buck’s middle and assures Buck that he’d use his superpowers to take care of him. “You two are something else.”

“It’s okay that you don’t understand, Eddie,” Buck says, lifting a cheering Christopher to sit up on his shoulders. “Just best friend behavior.”

“I thought I was your best friend?!” Eddie asks as he crosses his arms, mock betrayal heavy in his tone.

“Nope. It’s me!” Christopher says, resting his hands in Buck’s hair.

Up ahead of them, people move forward, and as Buck takes a couple steps, he takes stock of the line for the first time, and he realizes that they are little further from the ferris wheel than he thought they’d be. He can’t even see the front of the line from where the three of them are standing.

Might as well get comfortable , he thinks as he glances up ahead, the long, winding line of people seemingly endless from where he’s standing. This might take a while.

finish on ao3

#buck x eddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #buck & chris #eddie & chris #9 1 1 show #911 fandom #911 fanfic #911onfox #911 fox #911 season 5 #ao3 fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #gay #911 fic #buckley diaz family

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girls-are-very-pretty · 4 years ago

Text

I just read a thing that reminded me that I went on a trip to the galapagos last year which reminded me of my terrible no good very bad morning which was legit crazy so I have to tell you about it because I can’t believe it happened.

So, it was the night/morning of my flight back to America, my flight was going to leave at 1am and we got to the airport at like 7pm, we ate, hung out, I felt very nauseous but it was also kinda whatever, it was the day of the very first covid case in ecuador it had been at the Guayaquil airport which we had been at earlier that week which was a little worrying. I had been wearing a mask on airplanes/airports the entire trip because my immune system is literal garbage and my mom was opposed to the recycled air thing (this’ll be important later). But basically we had to go through customs, tsa, etc then we got to kinda sit and hang out, I filled up my water bottle, I went hunting for a makeup store I had seen at the same airport earlier that week, couldn’t find it which kinda sucked, stole Maya’s french fries and avoided other people because I have terrible anxiety.

About 10 minutes before the plane was supposed to leave me and my teacher were called up for an extra security check, this was incredibly stressful, we were also like the last people out of like the 15 of us who were pulled aside I assume randomly, to do this so we barely made it on the plane in time, it was about 1am I was very tired, I sat down, realized I did not have my mask, subsequently freaked out, my groupmates were like “ask if the flight attendant has seen it” and I freaked for a minute before going up to the flight attendant guy, he looked down at me as I was like “have you seen a little black face mask?” and he was like so thinly veiled pissed it seemed like he was in his head going “ugh, this brat, overreacting about this freaking virus like everyone else” and so I pretty much shame/awkward slunk back to my seat accepting it was probably gone at this point. I fell asleep, and woke up like 3 hours later, I really had to go to the bathroom, but the only flight attendant in sight was the one who I had already embarrassed myself to and the seat light was still on so I just sat there suffering for 20 minutes till another one came by and I could ask if I could use the bathroom. When I came back out, they were serving breakfast or whatever I was hungry, and then! it was like sausage....and I’m a vegetarian....so I was stuck, and decided to go back to sleep.

We landed in the miami airport, I picked up my carry on from under the seat, found my mask right there so like so much stressing for no reason, which sucks, we go through customs, and we have to go through TSA again which is weird but also okay I guess. At this point all I want is to make it through, and get dunkin doughnuts. My morning has already been a bit of a wreck and I am very hungry and still tired so I just want dunkin, I just want a doughnut. I’m like 10 feet from the TSA when I realize I filled my water bottle and did not drink any of it, so I have a minute or less to drink 20 oz of water, I am the kind of person who drinks that much water over the course of like,,,a day,,, so I’m suffering but I do it. I go through the metal detector, so far so good, then my bag gets pulled aside, everyone else in my group has already gone ahead, I’m reeling thinking of anything in there that might have caused it to get pulled aside. My teacher notices that I’m kinda hanging out in distress and comes over and hangs with me while we wait for them to check my bag. The lady goes through it, finds an orange juice box. Now heres the thing, this orange juice has been in my bag half the week since I was on the island and they gave it to me for breakfast but I hate orange juice and I was too nice to say no. This orange juice has been on 2 planes, four boats, 5 busses, and nobody cared until now, but they pulled me aside for this juice box. I wanna cry but I console myself with dunkin.

We get all the way through and start looking at a map, someone tells me there is no dunkin, I seriously wanna cry at this point, there is no god, it is just me and 20 minutes before the next flight leaves. I try to make myself feel better with 2 croissants and some hot chocolate from an organic stand thing I found 2 minutes away from the terminal. I sit down with 5 minutes until we have to leave, I write a yearny little post here on good ol tumblr (the one about being in an airport and how it’s magical because there's so many different kinds of pretty girls, u probably don’t remember it, but I do), and then 3 boys in my group come from the opposite direction, and they’re holding dunkin. Now, it’s pretty well known in the group that the only thing holding me together was the promise of dunkin, so one of them sits down next to me and holds out his cup of doughnut holes to me so I can take some, He was godsent and I will never be able to appreciate him enough. I did cry, but also still got on the plane.

I later got starbucks for the very first time because my throat hurt and it was very good, and Maya braided my hair for me on the last plane to montreal which was fantastic (ever had your hair played with by a girl? 10/10 recommend). At customs I had to keep one of the younger kids from being held (On the way into canada 9 days earlier he had told the customs officer that he had a gun, it was not a great way to start the trip), he was doing so much stupid stuff, Gomez, one of the teachers, was like ‘christi, just...don’t let him do anything stupid” so I held both of our tickets and gave simple succinct answers, smiling and being nice, we made it through by some miracle and safely made it home, but like that whole first part was such a nightmare, and my ear/head had hurt half the week to the point that I ended up crying and the tour guide gave me chamomile tea (he was a fantastic person), and I found out at the doctor 2 days later that I had a double ear infection aka, I had debris in my ear that got infected and like my ear fluid had also gotten infected, so like my head and ear had hurt the entire plane ride and I could have lost my hearing from the 3 plane rides in a row, so it was a train wreck.

Moral of the story, life is crazy, dunkin doughnuts holds my life in their hands, even if this happened, it was still an awesome trip but also crazy.

#rambles

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lovinlikeloki · 3 years ago

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The Lone Wolf

Masterlist // 01

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Orlaith and I get off the bus and start walking down the road.

"Where are ye going?" Orlaith asks me.

"I'm away de Saint Marie's, ye wanny join me?" I tell her.

"Aye, sure why not?"

"I finished a job last night and didn't get de give Eoghan the card," I say, brandishing a gold colored card, "I need to get paid and get me next one."

"Why do you do this?" Orlaith asks, shaking her head at me.

"Eoghan's letting me stay in one of the rooms at Saint M's. I'm earning my keep, besides, the money's good."

"If you say so," she shrugs.

We keep walking and then I pull her sleeve, to show her the alley we need to walk down. We reach the end and I pull off my school blazer, shoving it in my school bag and exchanging it for my green and grey striped hoodie. I push open the door to the old Catholic school, I see that people are already in, clearly people like to start drinking early, well, if 5 in the afternoon is early to you.

I pull Orlaith to the bar and I slam the gold card on the bar, making Eoghan look at me. He takes the card and puts it in the out box, he then lifts a wad of cash and gives it to me. He begins to tell me that someone called for me, someone who called me 'Malen'kaya Volchitsa.' Only two people have ever called me that...and one's... not here anymore, so I know exactly who's after me. And just in case I didn't, the name she left, 'Cáileach,' was a nice hint. The witch is a smart one, I'll tell you that much.

(Little she-wolf) (Witch)

I take the number she left and smirk at the gold card.

"We'll take two cokes Eoghan," I tell him before going to the corner table by the door, my table.

Orlaith follows me to the table and sits across from me, "Why's a witch looking for you?"

"Because after leaving me for two years she's finally reaching out," I reply.

"Okay...and what the fuck does that mean?"

"What it means is that I'm gonny be leaving for a bit. My sister needs me, and I can't leave her hanging, 'sides, I owe her."

"You have a sister? Since when?" my confused friend asks.

"Not by blood, not by law she's... emotionally? my sister. Yeah, let's go with that. Basically when I went missing two years ago she was there, we bonded, and she saved me. That's all you need to know," I finish.

Eoghan brings us our drinks and we thank him, I hand him back a tenner, he tells me that he'll be behind the bar if I need him and that we'll talk about this job later.

Orlaith and I stay at the table for a bit while we finish our drinks, talking about our day and how much we hate our math teacher. Then Orlaith gets a text from her mam saying that she needs to head home to do homework and have some family time, whatever that is. I wouldn't know, it's been a while since I was at 'home'. It doesn't matter though, this, Saint Marie's the mercenary job fair of a bar, this is my home now.

When Orlaith leaves I head up to the bar and sit on a stool. I look up at the dead pool to see who's been picked this week, the dead pool is fun for me because as a minor I'm not allowed to get picked, I can just sit and watch the chaos. Only downside is that I can't pick anyone, so... I mean it's a two-way street, so I guess that's fair.

"So, what's this witch after?" Eoghan questions.

"Not sure," I reply honestly, "But whatever it is, it must be important. We haven't spoken in two years, and last time we spoke, he was still alive."

"Him as in-" Eoghan begins.

"Yes, he as in my grá cáilte. She didn't even call me then, so whatever this is has de be big. It better be, or I might just hang up."

(Lost love)

"You won't. The stories you've told me- you wouldn't leave her. If you did you'd hate yourself. You can't bring do stóirín back, he's gone, but you can still help her."

(Your darling)

"You're right, it just breaks my heart, I had to find out they escaped from rumors and stories, but I found out that he died by watching it, live on tv. We had so much potential, he had so much potential, but now I'll never know. Glac siad a anam ró-ghasta."

(They took his soul too soon)

"You're right. But now she needs you. So go find out what the witch wants, and try your damndest to deliver," he says.

"I will," I say, smiling at him sadly, "Thanks, E."

"Not a bother," he assures me, smirking, "Mactíre."

(Wolf)

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ ° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

I dial the number, she picks up after a single ring.

"Wanda, it's been a while," I say, trying to stay happy even though I know hearing her voice again will probably bring tears.

"Fianna, it has," she says, and I inhale sharply. No tears, not now, not yet at least.

"So, what do you need me for so urgently?" I begin to cut the shit.

"I need help. I need a friend, I need a soldier. Are you available for some last-minute travelling?" she says hesitantly. Clearly I'm a last resort, a "break glass in case of emergency" type help.

"Of course, when and where?" I ask.

"I need you to get to Leipzig-Altenburg Airport asap. We'll get you where you need to be from there," Wanda explains.

"Yeah, uh, when exactly do you mean by asap?"

"I mean, like literally buy a last-minute flight and get on it, within the next two hours. It'll be a two-hour flight, I'll pick you up and we'll get where we need to go."

"Alright, fine. I just need to know, what I'm up against. You said you needed a soldier? I need to know what I'm fighting for before starting a war."

"This is... the fight of a lifetime. You'll be fighting for truth and... safety. Who you'll be up against? Some of my closest friends and some of the deadliest assassins in the last thirty years. Now are you in or are you out? I don't blame you if you're out, but it would really help."

Wanda sounds... more than desperate, she's hopeless, she needs me, more than she ever has. I've fought many's a fierce foe in my time, but Avengers? Deadly assassins? That's usually more than a smidge above my paygrade. But she needs me, she's calling in her last favor, she clearly thinks I'm up for it. I hesitate for a second, weighing my options before making a life-changing decision.

"I'm in. I'll be there in four hours, max," and with that I hang up.

Guess I'm going to Germany.

I walk back into the bar and go through the side door that brings me to the lodging. I go to my room at sit on my bed. I'm leaving. I begin to pack my shit, I pull my kitbag out from under my bed and begin filling it with clothes. Leggings, t-shirts, hoodies, leather jackets, everything I might need. I pack all the essentials and then begin to think of how I'll smuggle my brass knuckles through security. I lift my mattress and take out a couple hundred pounds in cash, shove it in my wallet and keep packing.

When I'm all packed I begin to forge a note from my 'mother' for the school so that I can get time off without them calling up people who haven't seen me in over a year and a half. I make a simple excuse of appendicitis, was rushed to hospital late tonight blah blah, they won't really care, the school year's nearly over. I just need something for show so that I don't get called out.

I text Orlaith, letting her know I'm being called out of the country. She questions me at first, but when I explain that Wanda needs me, and I can't let her down she lets me be. She says she'll drop in and pick up the note tomorrow morning before getting on the 212 to Coláiste Feirste.

(Belfast College {It's an Irish speaking high school})

Now I've just got to talk to Eoghan. I tell him to come to the lodging hall, behind the bar. He serves the last couple of drinks that were ordered and joins me in the back.

"I have de go de Germany," I tell him, "It seems above my paygrade, but she needs me and I gotta be there for her."

"Okay... do ye have enough for the flight?" he simply asks.

"Aye, I've got all I need, me kitbag's packed an' everythin'."

"Ye said above yer paygrade. What'd ye mean by that?"

"I'm not just fighting with Wanda's friends. I'm also fighting against a couple o' them."

"What? Naw- What the fuck Fianna!"

"Look, she needs me, Eoghan, I can't just leave her."

"You're not fighting them assholes."

"Yeah, I am, Eoghan."

"Naw you're not."

"You can't stop me. I tol' her I'm in, and I'm going," I say, standing up and throwing the strap of my kitbag over my shoulder.

"Fianna, ye can't just leave to fight those dickheads," he stands up.

"I'm away," I say firmly, walking out the door.

"Get your arse back here, now!"

"You're not my da, Eoghan. You can't make me stay."

"I might not be your da, but I'm the closest thing to a father you've had these past years. You better treat me with a bit more respect."

"Maybe," I shrug, "But I'll stick with this for now," I say, throwing up my middle finger before leaving the bar. The taxi I called beforehand pulled up and I got in.

"The airport," I tell the driver.

"Right," is the simple reply he gives me.

I get a text when we're about halfway to the airport.

I click my phone off and look out the window at the familiar city I've grown up in. All my life except a year was spent here. When I wasn't here I was with the twins, me becoming who I am, them becoming who they are... or were, and then I left them. Not by choice. Not on purpose. But I still left them.

But now I've got Wanda back, and while I don't know how long I'll be with her for, it will be good to see her. If only I could've seen him one last time before I left, spoke to him one last time, made sure nothing was left unsaid. Instead I'm here, he's gone, and I'll never know how things could've gone if perhaps I never left.

The driver stops at the airport entrance and lets me out, I pay him the fare and he takes it with a smile. I grab my bag, close the door, and go into the airport. I go to the desk and ask if there are any last-minute tickets to Leipzig-Altenburg I could get on. While there was a seat I could take, it cost a little more than a pretty penny. Luckily I had enough to buy it and went through security immediately. I opted for a pat-down rather than the metal detector and thanks to my damn good hiding spots the woman didn't find my brass knuckles.

I wait for the half hour before my flight and board along with the others. I get to my seat and sigh. A two-hour flight isn't long, it's just boring to sit through, no one to talk to and not long enough to sleep through. I just sit there messing on my phone for a bit, making faces at the baby looking through the gap between the chairs a couple rows in front of me.

When the plane finally lands I prepare myself. This is it. I have to fight Avengers. I have to fight deadly psycho assassins. But first. I have to see Wanda. For the first time in two years. For the first time since he died.

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ ° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

When I leave the airport I scan my surroundings and all the cars parked there. I stop when I come across a van that could be owned by no other, a white panel van with what I'd consider an iconic license plate: L: T34MC4P, I know that it's gotta be my ride. I go to the passenger side and knock on the window, the door opens, and I'm promptly enveloped in a hug.

"Someone order a conriocht?" I sat into my sister's shoulder.

(Werewolf)

She laughs and hugs me tighter, "I did, you little volk."

(Wolf)

I look at her with tears in my eyes, smiling sadly. She looks back at me with a similar expression and we just stay there in the embrace for a moment.

"Okay," I say, finally pulling away and wiping my tears away, "So who's ass do I have to kick?"

She laughs, wiping away her own tears, "No one's just yet. We gotta get there first, so get in the back."

"Back of a van?" I quirk an eyebrow, "Are there seats of does this look like a kidnapping?"

"There are seats, but they're laid down. Scott is sleeping on them, and I thought you'd want to stretch before we get there, human or not."

"That's fair, but the second I shift I'm gonna be stuck with Lu, you know that."

"I can get her to ease up, but you're stuck with her, you have to learn how to get along with her, okay?"

"Yes mom," I mock, "I'll see you on the other side."

I salute her before opening the back door, seeing a middle-aged man sleeping on the seats. Must be Scott. I climb behind the seats and lay down, shifting to the Mactíre, and as expected I hear Lu.

Lu is like a voice in my head, she's the canine and lupine instincts that got transferred during the experiments. She talks to me, mostly degrades me for my logic and emotions, planning things out rather than acting on instinct and figuring it out on the fly.

"So, she returns," Lu mocks.

"Yes, I've returned. Wanda needs help, she needs me, needs us to work together," I reply.

"Wanda? Wanda needs us?"

"Yes. And we're gonna work together. Right?"

"Yes. Of course. Anything for Wanda."

"Good. Now we're gonna be driving for a bit, so what do you suggest we do?"

"Sleep. Sleep is good. Sleep builds energy."

"Okay Lu, we'll sleep. But when we're fighting I need to take control, okay? I need to be able to focus."

"Okay Fi, you take control."

"Thank you."

And with that I begin to drift out of consciousness.

#peter parker x oc #peter parker x reader #spiderman x oc #spiderman x reader #peter parker #fianna macbhfloscaidh #the lone wolf #the lupine saga #nyx writes #jynx writes #pyre writes

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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 5 years ago

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The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (5/5)

A/N: The last chapter to this fic. It's a long one and I gotta say that I've had a lot of fun with this one. After I post this chapter, I'll be sure to post the masterpost for this fic. And of course it'll be available on ao3 soon enough.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

__________

Chapter 5: Adore You

If you had to draw a map to find the way home once you were captivated by the gaze of those trustworthy, soft eyes of his, you would surely run out of ink; pools of blue, unwavering in their affection, drew you in, and you were willing to drown in them. There were facets about them that fascinated you as much as the scales of a butterfly did; they did not shimmer, but they gleamed and sparkled; it's what made you pause and search for a wisp of an acquaintance that very first time you saw him; finding a familiarity that threatened to sweep you away. Why you even found fire in those eyes; it was there in his moments of determination and passion. Oh, how their color shifted with his moods was a type of magic you wanted to spend the rest of your life being mesmerized by. To be sure he wasn't mistaken, he dare not blink; exhibiting the full spectrum of what Billie Eilish described as ocean eyes; he had to be sure. "Y-you do?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I do."

It wouldn't occur to you till later, that he had given you a choice. For instead of the typical proposal question, where it was more asserted, Rick asked in a manner in which there was equal footing; it spoke volumes of the respect he had for you. With shaky hands, he slipped a ring whose stone was as clear and blue as his eyes and cut perfectly like a rose, the band covered in gold vines and silver leaves which weaved together; he made it himself, and if you thought back far enough, you could remember when he was ambiguous about his plans to create a new type of stone. Honestly, you didn't realize it would be for this.

"Gosh," he sniffled. "I-I promised myself that I w-wouldn't cry."

But cry he would; fat, sloppy tears that blinded one's vision. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, and fought to regain composure, but lost to the new wave which followed. You gently pried his hands away from his face, softening at his tear-stained cheeks. "It's okay, you can cry if you want to. I already know how tender you are."

Goodness, how long had he wanted to do this? For while it had almost been two years in which he had last attempted to, it might've been on his mind for much longer than that; eating away at his clarity; at the self-confidence that was torn down and repaired daily. You were grateful and proud that this man wanted you; that he finally gathered the courage to ask and do as he intended and wanted. You….you had wanted this to happen, but did he know that? Your ocean of inquisitions thought otherwise.

However, it was time to quiet and quell his despondent thoughts. Your fingers dug into the collar of his sweater; the tang of nervous sweat and something so him which wafted off him made you yearn to bring him closer. The puffiness about his eyes didn't discourage you from pressing a kiss at the corner of them and from his throat came a choked sob and you were surrounded by the sounds of his disbelief; this cacophony was breaking your heart. There had to be something you could do to ease him. "Ricardo," you started, "considering the suddenness of the occasion, should we, in like fashion…my dear honey man, would you like to get married today?"

This new tidbit caught him off guard; so much so that he stopped crying; good. Now, he was the one who was unsure of whether this was real life or a simulation. He ran his fingers through his hair, double-checked his equipment, sprayed himself with water, and completed equations that had taken this earth dimension's leading mathematicians decades to understand. What you thought was odd was when he caught a pigeon, scanned its anatomy, and found it was sound; you were going to have to ask him about it later. "Rick, did you hear me?"

"Y-yes," he focused, "but what d-do you mean today? How?"

You figured he would have easily come to a conclusion, but then again, what do spacemen have to do with the price of bread?

"I mean that we don't have to wait if you don't want to." You slid your palm over his tattoo, memorizing with your fingertips where his skin was slightly raised. "We can just go down to the justice of the peace if you'd like."

"And y-you would be my wife today?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I think that's how it works."

"But what about a-a…"

"A wedding ceremony?" you interrupted. "Well, we can have one later. We can plan it however you want, and invite all our friends. There can be so much celebration that we'll be knocked out for a week. Until then, I just want to make you happy, and I believe the sooner the better. Okay? So, if we're going to do this, just tell me now and I'll go get the proper paperwork."

It never ceased to amaze you how easily he flitted through emotions as though it were the weather, and with vigor, he lifted you up and vibrated with joy. "Boy, golly gee…this really - this really razzes my b-berries! This is…wow, I-I can't believe it."

You couldn't believe his word choice either. "Oh, you better believe it, because now you're stuck with me and I have you all to myself. However, you're going to have to put me down now because the office closes at five. There are a few things I need to do before then."

Letting you down, he happily waved goodbye despite the fact that it wouldn't take long to get what you needed for this impromptu occasion. Though, when you entered your house, you took a moment to think about your father. There were things you still didn't understand, like why he never told you about his friendship with Rick, or why you two never really discussed what he'd do if you got married; if he had been here, maybe you two would have talked about which flowers would look best as centerpieces; like whether roses or mums were cheerful enough or if this really was a good idea; if such an age gap was surmountable. Yet, in a way you felt as though you were honoring him; for your father and your mother had been unconventional and had gotten married without all the showy displays then road tripped a bit before settling here; you were simply following tradition.

Maybe, you didn't have to know about the why's and what-ifs, but focusing on what you could do seemed a whole lot easier to do. You kicked off your sneakers and dashed upstairs. You knew where your important documents were, but you thought that choosing a cute outfit would take a little longer. You wanted a certain vibe, one that would make things easier on him and then it came to you; why not revisit an old favorite; one that reminded you of his eyes; always, forever blue.

When you returned, you found him pacing around. He was deep in thought, and it took a moment for him to notice that you had returned. Almost comically, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and he started to cry again. "That's th-the dress. From that one time."

"It sure is."

With a twirl, you flaunted the blue chiffon dress, and felt like a dream; his visible adoration was not lost on you. It was a relief that this time you hadn't taken an hour to fuss or worry that you weren't dressed for the part, and you weren't wearing shoes which would kill your feet, but instead rocked some converse. "These shoes are made for walking and that's just what I'll do."

Unlike you, Zeta-7 wanted to fuss and choose something dressier, but you somehow managed to convince him that his blue button-up would be fine, and no tie was necessary; hidden ray guns were allowed just in case this happened to be the day that the Gromflomites attacked; not even Earth-based military scanners would be able to detect them. Though, you did allow him to fix up his hair, because one, you thought he was quite handsome with it combed back, and two, it's what he felt he needed to do to look the part. "How do I-I look?"

"Like the man I'm going to marry. Are you ready handsome?"

With a nod, he grabbed the folder with all the documents he needed. "Y-you bet."

______________

At the courthouse, the entire security staff grouped together and teased you about your keys; you should've known that you'd face trouble once you went through the metal detector; you had a lot of keychains; they were from the days when you and your father would go shopping together. Like Rick, he liked yard sales and thrift stores; sometimes he'd get grab bags and there would be vintage keychains, and he'd give them to you knowing you'd like them. You were told by one of the older guards that it wasn't natural for a grown woman to have a set of keys that weighed five pounds. Zeta-7 began to worry, but you told him you could handle it, and you figured the guards were bored and had nothing else to do. What you didn't tell them was that the main reason your keys were heavy was that you were carrying two sets; yours and your father's old keys; Rick knew, but he respected your wishes to leave it be.

Despite this, you two made your way to the right office; it only took fifteen minutes of going to lobby after lobby, free coffee, and endless rugs in all this indoor nothingness. And nobody knew better than Rick when it came to how much you hated paperwork, but nonetheless, you went through the painstaking process of signing this and that, wondering why they didn't make it easier for people by asking yes or no questions; this better not become someone's confetti. Rick breezed through it all, and you were slightly jealous that he knew what he was doing, but it was due to the fact that citadel paperwork was a lot more frustrating and difficult; he had to go through stacks of it weekly; poor man. While he sat quietly, you were in-between forms that had to be signed in triplicate and heard the gossip coming from the people who were working in the back of the office. What they didn't know was that their ignorance made you more determined; you'd fought your own expectations, that of others, as well as what seemed right to do long enough and no one, not even death itself was going to stop you from doing this; it was the best thing you could ever do for yourself and for him as well. You breathed a sigh of relief when you and Rick finally signed the marriage certificate; finally, it was done, and he watched rapturously as you set down the pen so that he could kiss you without refrain.

If you hadn't known better, you'd say the world shied away; dissolving into a plane of nothingness as he enveloped you with a strength that was deceptive for a man of his years; he had become a little more confident; it might've taken a few years, but all you knew was that it suited him. Being nurtured and cared for, as well as loved in the right sort of environment did wonders on Zeta-7; so much so, that he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and still manage not to damage it. It wasn't shocking that some found this outward display sweet, and you almost had hope for humankind, but then there was a laugh or two from the back; you made a mental note to consider moving off Earth. No one was going to ruin this moment for him, and relishing the moment, you chased his mouth for a second kiss; you know, to prove your point.

And if you hadn't already been proud of him, what made you even prouder was what he said on the way out. "Please stop laughing at m-my wife. Th-that's very rude."

His wife? Yes, you were his wife now. It's strange how you could wake up and wonder what you should have for breakfast and be here where you were now; in a whole new chapter of your life; wondering what will come next. Confusing yes, but not something to be afraid of; you welcomed this happy transition.

Back at the car, you were still recovering from his earlier outburst; the like which was almost out of character. "Did you see the look on her face? I thought it was going to fall off with how far her jaw dropped. Wasn't it a sight?"

Though, he was busy staring at the ring on his own hand which you had picked out when you two made a stop at a consignment shop earlier. It wasn't that complex like yours, but he loved it. "All I could see was - was you."

"You flirt."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and in turn, he laughed a full-on belly laugh; this happy noise was music to your ears. "Gosh, I-I mean it. Y-you, look so pretty today." A bit shyly, he commented. "Blue looks very good on you."

"Thank you. So, how should we celebrate? A trip to the moon perhaps? Going across the universe? Maybe a kaiju fight with Matango? Or watching Spiderman 2? Honestly, I'm game for anything."

You had decent shoes on and didn't care what he wanted to do because you were happy if he was happy. And as though it were just another afternoon, he glowed with happiness when he asked. "Mrs. Sanchez, do you - do you want to go get some ice cream?"

Some things will never change and you didn't mind that. "I'd love to. As the author, L.M. Montgomery once said, 'I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.' And, you know, it's so true. I intend to go all out with the toppings today. It's certainly that kind of occasion."

______

He couldn't seem to want to let go of your hand; as though the world would fall away if he didn't and that this would turn out to be a cruel dream. Still, you humored and spoiled him. As intended, you got all the toppings; Rick thought it was a kids dream come true with the amount of candy you had in your waffle bowl. And since you had enough to share, you took the liberty to feed him. He chatted on; offering charming stories from his band days; unlike other Ricks who were in a rock band called Flesh Curtains, his band had been a jazz and bossa nova trio; the band name had been comprised of a numerical equation; if you had named them you would've called them the Zeta Bytes.

Now, Rick wasn't a messy eater, but during one of his more excitable stories, he spilled a bit on the corner of his mouth. Ready with a napkin, you wiped it away, and couldn't help but laugh at how boyish it was. Giving your hand a squeeze, he absentmindedly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand; adoration coloring his voice. “You're t-t-too good to me.”

"There's no such thing. If anything, I gotta spoil you rotten."

You found no hindrance in his mood and this time he didn't think twice about kissing you then and there as he liked while you were still holding the napkin; fear and shame of public displays of affection being one less thing to worry about now. Who cared if your ice cream was melting, because your heart was melting; his mouth tasted of chocolate and promises. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled away; his promise whispered against your lips. "I-I promise I'll be good t-t-to you."

Being loved suited him; it really, really did wonders on his countenance and it made you wonder what else he could now do.

_________

By now you were a little tired, but Ricks contagious energy invigorated your spirits; you bet he could've come up with an invention and completed it today if he stayed this hyped up. Instead, he used that energy to make fresh rolls to go with the leftover acorn squash soup; you hadn't been that hungry, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. And when dinner had been eaten, you helped him with the dishes; nothing you hadn't done before, but his spirit was lighter and more at ease; he even bumped your hip with his as a gesture of playfulness. After cleaning up the kitchen, he decided that he'd like to take a shower and refresh himself and in the meantime, you stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the beauty of the night. In this part of town, despite the light pollution, you could see a fair amount of stars.

You had never studied astronomy, but Rick had shown you in diagrams and in textbooks of their names and explained how they were formed; to him, their complexity was like poetry, and it made them beautiful. You couldn't recite it by memory, but you had a feeling that beyond your current comprehension perhaps there was life amongst those heavenly bodies, despite the heat or deadly gases; if you had learned anything about space, it was that worlds were more along the lines of art and beauty than fields of science which were easily explained. Yet, in the air, where there was a sweet perfume, thick, but intoxicating, only where you were currently mattered; you saw that in the leftmost part of the yard there was jasmine which was currently in bloom; its blanket of flowers reminding you of snow. Hadn't you read of this somewhere before? Maybe.

In the grass near your feet, grasshoppers leaped away, and crickets chirped their songs. And you relished the strong breezes and the song of the night which may consume a melancholic heart if it were searching for tragedies instead of sweet dreams. And it had only been a few hours ago when you had thought that all of which transpired might've been a dream. Though, whatever truths that had come to light in the hours after the simulation, you were glad of them.

In the dark, sights and sounds were heightened and mesmerizing, albeit curious in its own right; if it hadn't been for the sound barrier Rick had on his property, you would've heard the obnoxious sound of the next-door neighbor's TV as they watched infomercials. Still, it was a beautiful night. Sitting on the bench which overlooked the whole yard, you thought of what wonderful things you'd like to share with Rick, and then he found you. For his part, he had changed into something more relaxed; into a light blue button-down that was similar to the one he was wearing earlier, but this one was softer, and it was paired with navy pants; it reminded you of blue pants Rick with his attire, but it was cute and suited him. With him, he had brought over a tray of goodies and you two ate cookies and cakes and drank earl grey under the moonlit night.

The pause in conversation gave allowances for observations. For example, you took a good long look at him as he sipped his tea; admiring how casual he appeared tonight. Without his labcoat or sweater, his identity seemed separate from that of his dimension jumping, scientist self; making way for the person deep inside; the friendly neighbor who won your heart without even trying. He noticed eventually that you had been staring at him, and he broke the silence with his inquiry. "What are y-you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about you cutie. You um….you look really good in those blue pants of yours. Thinking of taking up modeling anytime soon?"

"N-no," he answered with an air of obliviousness that you found endearing. "not unless my next work assignment requires it. Gee, why do you ask?"

"Hmm, it's because you wear your clothes well. I always thought you did, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it."

He ruminated on what you said for a few minutes, before setting down his cup. "Did you - did you always find me attractive?"

"No," you confessed. "but you're the only person I've ever really been attracted to. I…..I always liked the fact that our relationship was built on something more substantial. You see, the more I got to know you, the more irresistible I found you. Though," you winked. "those teeth of yours were always too cute to resist."

This truth of yours made him comfortable enough to relinquish one of his own. "C-can I tell you a secret?"

"It's not much of a secret if you tell me dear, but you can tell me anyway."

Wringing his hands together, he confessed solemnly. "That day y-you tripped on the sidewalk nearby my house, I-I almost decided not to cross the road."

Not cross the road? Hmm, it had been an option. In your mind's eye, you could imagine it; the tall, lanky figure of a man debating against his better judgment on what he ought to do; so close but so far; knowing that he was altering the course of his future and putting yours at risk. Poor man, having to wallow over a moral dilemma like that. "Why is that?"

"Gosh, y-you….I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."

It could've been taken that way, but you never thought so. "So what changed your mind?"

"I thought you were going to cry, and I-I didn't… I didn't want you to suffer anymore. I thought t-to myself, that if I got t-t-to know you, then you wouldn't have to be lonely anymore."

When he said this, you nearly couldn't look at him; not because he knew more than he let on, but because who knows what paths you two would've taken if he hadn't shown up that day. Tears bit at the back of your eyes, and your nails bit into your palms. "Dear, love isn't always a cure for heartache," He tensed up at this, but you knew you had to tell him. You weren't upset because you had guessed as much, but being assured of it cemented the fact. "but I'm sure that without you, without your friendship, I might not be here right now. I think I was depressed, and from time to time I still feel that way. I…I have thought of ways to make my troubles end, ways you might not have been proud of, but you've shown me a better way to live. I think…no, I know that by expanding my horizons, I understand now that there's so much to look forward to, and not to take life for granted. Why," you paused, fighting the tears which threatened to fall. "you reminded me that I gotta make the most of this crazy, unpredictable life, and I'm happy that I'll get to do that with you."

He understood and accepted this answer and gave you a look of adoration and pride; the like that you hoped you'd always remember. And when you two were done with tea, you both took a walk about the garden. The sweet perfume of jasmine intermingled with that of the scent of his soap, and combined with the candor of his speech made this place feel like a well of comfort. He followed behind you as you two spoke, and you were conscious of the fact that with his freshly washed hair brushed back, it made him more appealing. His hands were in want of yours as he matched your pace, and you felt slightly mischievous as you'd skip or teased him to catch you; it wasn't long until he gathered you in his arms and laughed, and you asked without much seriousness for him to let you go, but while he loosened his grip, he didn't let go entirely. "Gosh, y-you make me feel so young. It - it feels so good to have you in my arms."

"Oh, really?" you giggled. "That's great to hear."

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he sighed. "It's unfortunate that I'm so old."

"That's okay. I like you as you are. It goes well with your personality."

"Thank you mi corazón. It feels good to hear that. However, can I-I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"¿Si hubiera s-sido más joven, habría marcado la diferencia?"

"If you had been younger? I don't know. Possibly," you admitted. "I might've been less reluctant about my feelings at the beginning, but I truly don't know. I'd like to think that I'd still would've fallen for you anyway. You're a wonderful man Ricardo, you don't have to doubt that, anyone can see that. It doesn't matter how old you are, but it's who you are."

"Y-you're right." With reluctance, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, and he wondered. "It um - it's getting late. Should I-I walk you home?"

Was he forgetting that he didn't have to? Maybe not. Perhaps he needed a sign; one that said that any suggestion of further intimacy was alright. "I thought I was home." you answered, "Don't you want me to stay?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yes, I-I-I-I do."

"Then it's settled. We'll have a big sleepover," you brightened. "and it'll never have to end. I'll borrow a pair of your pj's and hog all the blankets because I'll get cold."

"And in - in the morning," he added warmly, "w-we can have pancakes."

"Yeah, and watch enough interdimensional cable to make us go blind."

"But I-I might have to work tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll just have to eat all your snacks until you come back. We might have to take a trip to Costco at some point because they sell these mushroom crisps that are to die for."

Standing under the persimmon tree, he stepped forward and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Y-you can have whatever you want," With a strong arm slipping around your waist, you felt almost shy at the way he smiled protectingly down at you. His warm breath ghosted about your ear, and his voice was above a whisper as he confessed. “because I-I-I finally got you princess and I'm not - I'm not going t-to let you go.”

At the sound of this pet name, you felt a slight warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn't laugh it off as you had once but agreed with warmth. “You may do as you please, Mr. Sanchez.”

And so he did. Without hesitation, he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. His eyes sparkling with humor, promise, and a confidence that was somehow so very appropriate on his face. "I love you. I-I-I always have. From the time I first held your hand, I knew it had to be you. I would've been a fool if I - if I hadn't tried. Even now, it's hard to believe, but it's starting to sink in."

"Me too. It's unbelievable, but it's true and we have the paperwork to prove it."

Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips. It was so gentle, it was as though you might break if he tried otherwise. Kissing you again, he sighed against your lips. "It's beautiful out t-tonight."

"It is."

Pressing a hand to his cheek, you softened. "But I think I'm ready to call it a night. Why don't we go in?"

Weaving his fingers with yours, he softened. "Okay."

You used to think to yourself and wonder if his house would ever be ready to receive you, but what you now realized was that it had always been ready, and only you had been waiting for it all to catch up; for him to know what he wanted and to be courageous and say; for you to know what you needed, and to accept that being yourself didn't make you any less attractive or unique and that you weren't alone; you had never been alone, for he had always been waiting. His home, why it was always home, but it was always home because he was what grounded you and you were what grounded him. And you felt so married to him then, and everything felt as it should. Nothing had really changed, except for a title, and a promise; for you two were friends as you had always been; him the happy go lucky old man, and you the silly neighbor who met him by accident, but you couldn't deny that you loved him with your entire being and so did he. As promised, he intended to do everything in his power to protect you, even as you two were getting ready for bed. His body seemed to curl around you as to shield you from whatever monsters could be hiding in the dark.

So, when it happened that you rested your head upon his chest and felt the temptation of sleep washing over you, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and confessed softly. "I can't wait to wake up next to you."

Fin

#doofus rick #doofus rick x reader #rick sanchez x reader #J19ζ7 #j19z7 #rick j19z7 #Rick and morty #Rnm #rnm fanfic #rnm fanfiction #rick and morty fanfiction #rick and morty fanfic #multi chapter #marriage #my fanfiction #my works #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfic

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antpernas · 4 years ago

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12/30/20

Today was meh!

So, because I went to sleep so late, I set my alarm to 10:00 AM instead of my usual 7:00 AM. This was fine, other than the fact that I woke up and then went back to sleep after about 30 minutes of trying to convince myself to get out of bed. Then, I woke up at 3:00 PM, and I didn’t end up finally getting out of bed until 5:00 PM. However!!! In the time I was in bed, I responded to some metal detecting hobbyists about coming over to find my earring that had messaged me while I was still asleep. One guy and I made plans for him to come over later in the day.

When I got up, I microwaved some pizza and made tea for “breakfast,” and also texted my sugar daddy. My brother was watching Supernatural, and as soon as the episode he was watching was over, I switched it to My Hero Academia because I refuse to subject myself to that kind of torture.

My dad got home and then he and my brother started getting ready for a dinner with my dad’s boss. I was going to go as well, but I wanted to wait until the metal detecting guy had come since he was already on his way. When my mom got home, they all left. Ironically, at the same time they were leaving, the guy pulled up! I led him out to the sand court and we got to work.

The metal detecting itself was pretty cool! It was my first time seeing a metal detector in action in person, and it’s as interesting as I’d expected to be! The sounds the machine made were my favorite. He used the earring I still had as a reference to calibrate the machine’s signal. Unfortunately, because the earring was so small, and that it’s made of titanium, it returned a very weak signal. We looked for about 45 minutes before we decided to turn in for the day. It was raining too, which was annoying. He told me he’d come back tomorrow to try and find it again. He definitely thinks it’s possible, but that he’d need some of the more appropriate equipment and calibration settings to find it. I thanked him and told him I’d be looking forward to tomorrow!

After I was done with that, I washed off and got dressed, grabbed the stuff my parents had left in their hurry to get there (a box of beer and some medicines), and went on my way. The drive was cute, I always like driving further north.

It’d been a while since I’d seen my dad’s boss, and it was my first time meeting his new wife, but we all had a great time! We had lasagna and ziti, salad, and garlic bread for dinner, and I told some pretty funny stories and got everyone to laugh. I also got to show them some music, so it was great! Also, their dog was ABSOLUTELY adorable!

After about an hour there, me and my brother called it a night and headed home. We put in gas on the way home, but other than that the drive was pretty uneventful.

Once I got home, I watched some more My Hero Academia with my brother and also had a brookie (brownie cookie) with some milk! I also cuddled my cat a bunch, which is always nice! When I finally felt like moving (once I had finished the Sports Festival Arc), I got up to go shower and take all my pics/vids for my sugar daddy. I also shaved, and lined up my hairline for the first time. I don’t think I did too bad of a job!

After that, I did my usual facecare (I ran out of two products though, so I’ll have to replace them tomorrow), and took some more pics in a jockstrap. Now I’m writing this, and I’m going to call it a night! Hoping I can be a bit more productive tomorrow.

Good night, be safe, sleep tight, sweet dreams, I love you!

#mydiary

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dana-sculy · 5 years ago

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Vive Ut Vivas - Chapter Two

→ Chapter One

It’s been 84 years since I wrote the first chapter of this story, I know, sorry it took me so long to continue to write it, hope you all enjoy! To read it in AO3 come here :)

tagging @today-in-fic

In this chapter, different from the first one, we'll see the story under Scully's perceptive. It's also a way to better explore her emotions and inner feelings of the situation. Plus, since in season 11 we came to learn more about Skinner's past and how he also had to deal with trauma, I decided to use that background in the conversations between him and Scully.

Prologue

I remember a time when I was only 5 years old. It was an ordinary day of summer, and mom had decided to take her children for a picnic in the park not far away from our house. She had little pots of everything with too much sugar and more packaging than the space-shuttle. Dad had been away on the sea for a long period of time, and even under the naïve perceptions of myself as a kid, it was possible to see how much she missed him. I don’t know if the picnic was an attempt of cheering the mood more for herself or for us. I should’ve been worried, but instead I just gave her my best smile and pulled out the fresh baked baguettes with brie and cranberry.

The air was warm that day, the beams of sunlight glowed on my skin. Melissa liked to sit close to the flowers and inspect them, under the freshly cut green grass. Charlie and Bill would start fighting with each other any time soon; it was sort of their motto. And that was my cue to go get and adventure by myself.

Looking back today, I wonder how could I and Melissa get along so well together. We were opposites in everything: she was the model, girly girl, who loved dresses, flowers, dolls and the piano lessons mom made sure we attended to. I was never that way. I loved dogs, sports and comfortable pants. I would only come inside home when mom called me with that tone of threat, which is the reason to my abundancy of freckles, due to hours and hours under the sun, climbing trees, running and playing around.

I was the tough child, I guess. Mel was the soft, popular one. That hasn’t changed much now that we’re adults. I still don’t go very well with softness; I keep it under tons of labored layers, deep inside.

This was mainly the reason I feared so badly to come here and stay with my sister. She has always had this thing of hers that somehow goes straight into your heart and sees everything. I’m a private, reserved person, and I like keeping my feelings only to myself. But that never really worked with Mel. Let’s say she would be very good at interrogations.

---

After what felt like an eternity, my tears, which eventually turned into little sobs, finally went away. At some point, Melissa’s tightened her hold on me; there wasn’t much else she could do about the whole situation for now. I ran my fingers through her knuckles, and she released me slowly.

“I guess I’ll be going, Mel.” – I feel terrible for leaving her after such an intimate moment, and especially because I know she’ll have a lot of other questions for me now.

“Work stuff you said, right?” – She sounds discouraged, but not mad, at the very least.

“Yes. Skinner had called me in the morning and he’s expecting me at the Bureau. So… I’d better be on my way.” – I rise from the couch and start to collect my things, stuffing them in my purse. It feels weird, not having my badge with me.

I say goodbye to my sister without turning to look back at her. If I did that, she would find her way into convincing me to stay. Even so, I can still feel her eyes burning on me, absorbing each detail, each movement I do. I close the door quietly and follow my way down the stairs of her building.

---

FBI headquarters - 3:00 p.m.

There is a feeling: it starts when you enter a place you’ve already been a thousand times before, and yet, when you look around, you feel like it’s not the same, even though nothing’s really changed. You try desperately to find out what is different, but the only thing you find is a bitter taste in the back of your mouth, a feeling of intrusion, as if you were the wrong peace of a puzzle, trying to fit in.

I enter through the front door, the big cement columns threatening to smash my tiny figure as I pass them to go through the metal detector machine.

As the elevator doors open, I feel a sense of relief as I notice it’s empty. I am aware that my abduction has made me quite a popular person in the bureau, as if being part of the X Files division hadn’t already granted me that. Mulder talked with me about how a few people, whose existence he’s never known before, had stopped him at the corridor to ask if Mrs. Spooky had been taken by his fellow aliens, or simply to know what really happened to me.

Being a woman in a field that is predominantly occupied by men has taught me that the standards are never equal when it comes to gender difference. I had to work harder than most of my male colleagues at Quantico to stand out, and now as an agent, I feel more than grateful to be Mulder’s partner, because, unlike the others, he treats me like an equal, recognizing my work as an agent without making me feel less capable due to being a woman, and protecting me when it’s needed without making me feel like I couldn’t handle myself.

The problem in that is that it often makes me forget how mean the rest of the bureau can be. I realize I wasn’t that lucky when the elevator doors open again, now in Skinner’s office floor, and I see a very crowded hall ready to swallow me up.

The loud noise of my high heels coming in contact with the floor fill my ears and I feel my body threatening to throw up all the remnants of the cheap lunch I had back at the hospital. I walk silently, looking straight away and trying my best to avoid the curious eyes that follow me. I hear whispers too, but my ears don’t register any words being said. My mind is way too busy fighting to keep me standing and moving forward. Thank God Skinner’s office is not so far from the elevator itself, and I get there quickly enough.

Arlene’s attention is instantly drawn to the creaking door as I open it, increasing considerably as she recognizes my singular figure entering the precinct. She tries her best to be discreet, though. She even gives me a little smile, embarrassed with the whole situation.

“Agent Scully, you can go inside. Mr. Skinner is already waiting for you.” – with that, she returns to typing in her computer.

Skinner is indeed expecting me as I walk to a chair in his conference table. Different from the others, he doesn’t show any sign of curiosity or pity. I feel immensely thankful for that, so I give him a smile. I’m well aware that the evaluation is merely standard procedure, not to mention that it’s just me and Skinner there, but, still, the knot in my stomach doesn’t subside a bit. I guess after all that’s happened, my mind had gotten a little susceptible to Mulder’s paranoia of breaking The X-Files division, and shutting our careers down along with that. Let’s not think about that right now, Dana. I turn the focus of my mind on taking long, deep breaths.

“Agent, Scully, it’s a relief to see you well.” – Skinner is sincere in his words, as he looks straight into my eyes to show me he means it. – “I hope you understand the need of this procedure. You were under a highly stressful situation and that requires a bureau evaluation, to make sure you’re ready to go back to field”.

“Thank you, Sir, I understand. I just want to go back to work as soon as I can.” – And forget this nightmare, I think to myself. For a moment, I wish Mulder could be here. His crack jokes and sassy faces would certainly help lighten the mood.

I remember Mulder with that thought, how he was worried with me coming back so soon, how he couldn’t help himself in hiding his desire to have my company back, despite that. My memory traces the lines of our office: the dusty shells of stuff Mulder makes sure to keep there, his table, his geek poster I came to like with time, the silly green alien key chain he bought me last summer, while lecturing me about how aliens are actually grey. It gives my heart some comfort to remember something so familiar to me.

“Good to hear that, agent. So, let’s begin, shall we?”

Thereby, Skinner starts to present me a series of routine questions, then about standard FBI procedure, and, finally, questions with, I suppose, a more psychological approach. Turns out it’s not that bad, after all. I feel relieved.

After I give my last answer, he pauses, closing his eyes for a bit. He uses the tips of his long fingers to massage his temples, and then takes a deep breath.

“If you allow me, Dana, I’d like to talk to you, off the record.”

I realize I won’t escape personal interrogations today, so I give him a week nod.

“Listen… Your test shows no reason to keep you away from work. That said, I’m letting you know you can return to work any time.”

“I see a ‘but’ coming” – I attempt to make a joke, but he doesn’t alter his serious face.

“Well, yes, indeed. As your boss, I’ll tag along with the evaluation, but as your friend, I’d like to advise you to go home, Dana. You’ll continue to be paid normally even if you take some more time off, and you really should do that. Go be with your family, go rest and give your body and soul time to heal. Trust me, I know the feeling. Your strength is increasing and your body seems better, so it feels like you’re ready to go back to action, but these wounds, Dana, they’re bigger than they look. They can threaten to unsettle your spirit in the most inconvenient of times, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if that caused another risk to your life, or to agent Mulder.”

He was probably right; I knew it in my heart. But how could I tell him that taking time was consuming me, that it was making me mourn over and over again all the things I lost during my abduction? I could no longer rest unless I was under the effect of my sleeping pills, or drowsy due to my strong medication, because when their effect passed away, all I could see in my mind was the same nightmare over and over again. I must've let out something, because when I turned my eyes back to Skinner’s, he had a bigger frown on his face.

“Don’t fight me on this, Dana. You’re the bravest agent I know, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need help.” – He waited for a response, so I opened my mouth in an attempt of an answer.

“Sir, I appreciate your concern, but I really need to work.” – I sigh – “I need something to focus my mind on. I’ll be careful, plus, Mulder will be there to help me.” – I try to give him my best sad-puppy face. It seems to work.

“That’s not the answer I hoped for.” – Now it’s his turn to sigh. – “But I know you well enough to understand that trying to convince you otherwise won’t make any difference.”

“Thank you for understanding that, Sir.” – As I rise from my seat, he speaks once again.

“Agent, as you’re released to come back to work, I want you to be aware that, due to the circumstances of your case, you’ll have to go through periodic psychological counseling. That is not negotiable, agent Scully, but don’t worry, everything you say during session will remain private, these routine sessions are just to make sure you recover from your experience.”

I nod to him and find my way to the door, but he calls my name when I’m about to leave the room.

“Just one more thing, Dana.” – I turn to him. – “As you return, if you feel like you can’t stand a situation, anytime, my offer stands. Promise me you’ll accept help from the ones closer to you.”

From all the times Mulder and I had to count on Skinner’s assistance, I’ve learned to trust him and to believe in the fact that he really cares for us both, but now, from the way he says this words and the look on his face, I feel like this is more than just concern for me. It feels personal, and I’m inclined to conclude that he’s had his amount of trauma too.

“I promise.” – I tell him and leave, there’s a basement I have to go to.

#the x files #txf #txf fanfic #msr #msr fanfic #my fanfics #foc #mine #dana scully #walter skinner #melissa scully

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shefanispeculator · 5 years ago

Link

Watch how Blake Shelton makes a great Father figure to Gwen Stefani's three boys as Blake teaches the kids many activities and experiences in the vast Oklahoma outdoors . . .

Blake Shelton makes a great father-figure to Gwen Stefani’s three sons including Kingston (13), Zuma(11), and Apollo who recently turned 6 years old. The boys are from Gwen‘s marriage to rocker Gavin Rossdale, which ended in divorce in 2015. In Blake and Gwen’s nearly 5 year of dating, Blake has forged a close relationship with the three boys and truly serves as a father-figure in their lives.

Watch the video below to see the great range of outdoor activities that Blake has experienced with Gwen’s three kids that all grew up in the suburbs of Los Angeles.

Blake and Gwen’s Relationship Journey

“He’s been helping me out a lot,” Gwen shared with TODAY about Blake’s role as a ‘bonus’ parent. “I literally get to the point where I’m like, ‘You gotta get home, I need help.’”

Shelton also opened up to People in November 2018 about how Apollo, Zuma, and Kingston have helped him grow as a person. It’s evident that Blake loves having the boys around. “For a long time, it was awkward trying to figure out what my place is and in their mind too,” Shelton admitted. “The best part for me, selfishly, is discovering a part of myself that I guess I never really knew was in there. It’s definitely an instinct that kind of kicks in.”

“When my marriage fell apart, and then trying to pick the pieces up from being at the rock bottom and trying to move forward, next thing you know, there’s this person that I kind of knew, that I worked with on [The Voice],” Shelton said, “And then all of a sudden, to find out she’s going through the same exact thing at the same time.”

“And this is how my life turned around. And so quickly too, by the way. Like, all of this has to be meant to happen,” he added. “So I made a record about it.”

The Father Figure Role

The definition of “Father Figure” is – an older man who you treat like a father, especially by asking for his advice, help, or support. For the three city boys, they now have a father figure that can teach them new things including: fishing, outdoor cooking, camping, driving trucks, riding all terrain vehicles, planting trees and crops, using a chain with your truck to tow vehicles and remove debris, driving a boat, lighting outdoor fires, riding horses, and searching for buried treasure with a metal detector. Gwen is not the biggest fan of hunting, so it will be interesting to see if Blake teaches the kids how to hunt as the trio of boys grows older. Blake Shelton also makes a great father figure on The Voice TV show and serves as a great mentor to a diverse range of young singers.

Blake Shelton’s Lake House (Lake Texoma in Oklahoma)

The backyard of Blake’s Lake House is the center point of the property with a giant swimming pool and an attached swim-up tiki bar. There are also three hut-style guest quarters complete with grass roofs. The master bedroom features a balcony that overlooks the pool and lake. The tropical-themed home has it’s own private beach shoreline of Lake Texoma as the largest lake in the state of Oklahoma. Blake was born in Ada, Oklahoma that is not far from Lake Texoma. Blake enjoys the tropical feel of vacationing, he decided to bring a bit of that to the heartland and added several palm trees on the property. The all-white tropical home features aqua blue doors and shutters and a great view of the pool and lake. The Lake House supports several activities with the boys including: boating, jet skis, fishing, and swimming in the pool and the lake.

Blake Shelton’s Home on Lake Texoma in Oklahoma

Next, we take a look at Blake’s Oklahoma ranch property that is just a 1 hour drive from the Lake House and 5 minutes from Tishomingo, Oklahoma.

Blake’s Ten Point Ranch

Blake’s ranch is just outside of the small town of Tishomingo, Oklahoma with a reported population of less than 4,000 residents. Blake has called Tishomingo his home for over a decade (after moving from Nashville), and his ranch is an impressive 1,382-acres acre property with a house, horse barn and large shed to store his tractor. The Ranch supports several activities with the boys including: cooking over the outdoor fire pit, treasure hunts, fishing, riding all terrain vehicles, hunting, planting trees, driving trucks, and camping.

Blake is an avid outdoors-man and enjoys hunting, fishing, planting crops, and riding horses. The ranch provides plenty of space do be outdoors and do everything he loves. Gwen Stefani has grown to love the area and enjoys riding horses and escaping the Los Angeles Paparazzi. Blake even planted Gwen her very own wildflower patch, which Shelton prepared for her with his tractor.

Blake’s restaurant and attached “Dog House” music/dance venue is located 214 W. Main in Tishomingo, OK. The small town is close to both the Lake House and the Ten Point Ranch. The Ten Point ranch is currently listed for sale since around 2017, for $4.7M. This appears to be a sign that Blake plans on spending more time at the Texoma shore Lake House. The house on the ranch has 4 bedrooms and 2 baths and is more of a hunting property versus Blake’s Texoma Shore lake property that has plenty of housing for over 20 guests.

Whether the couple decides to get married or just keeps on dating, we wish them the best. Let us know if you think Blake Shelton makes a great father-figure for Gwen’s three sons.

Remember to “share” why Blake Shelton makes a great Father-Figure video with other country music fans.

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pandemicthestory · 5 years ago

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10: confused

Fake it til you make it.

In the middle of the City, fairly close to the Academy, there is a chrome-colored building that is taller than almost all of the rest. Night and Sugar stand in front of its doors, wondering how they’re going to get in.

The building is called “Mecca.” It’s filled with headquarters for top companies--mostly builders, but also fashion and interior designers, medical technicians, and game developers. Thousands of civilians report here for work 5 days a week. But since it’s Friday, as soon as it’s 5 o’clock, these workers will leave their desks and head to the top floor.

At the top floor of Mecca is LOUNGE, an exclusive night and day club where windows are always blacked out and the passing of time can’t be measured. A night club meets speakeasy meets casino, this is where the elites go to unwind. After a long week’s work of building, the business men and women of Mecca can swipe their membership card at the top floor and indulge themselves in the darker parts of life.

And this is exactly where Sugar intends on taking them.

“There’s no way we’re getting in.” Night mutters, hitting his forehead with his palm. This situation feels seriously illegal and seriously stupid. As he and Night stood at the front of this massive building, Night begins to wonder if he’s made a big mistake.

“Hold on now, don’t give up just yet, man. Listen, the separation medical facility is in this building.” Sugar explains.

“So..?”

“People think we’re Vacaters. So, we’ll tell security that we have appointments today, they’ll let us in, we’ll head to the facility and…”

“And what?”

“And figure it out from there? Let’s go dude!”

*buzz*

*buzz buzz buzz*

Suddenly, Night’s phone starts blowing up in his pocket. He can’t ignore it, because it just keeps going.

“Hold on a second, Sugar…”

Night reaches into his pocket and sees that he has several missed texts and calls. From Julian.

Oh god, what does he want from her so desperately? What could be so important that it can’t wait?

This is why he’d tapped Emma’s phone. It wasn’t because he’s creepy or trying to infringe on her privacy, though, he’ll admit, that’s exactly what it looks like. No, it’s because she’s unpredictable, and surrounded by people who don’t know what’s best for her. And because he really needs her to make it here.

JULIAN: where are u

JULIAN: stopped by your house and u weren’t there

JULIAN: ur mom said u were out for a walk, but i don’t think that’s true. Tell me what’s happening

(3 MISSED CALLS)

JULIAN: your friend zoe says that you’re out somewhere with her boyfriend. Care to explain? Wtf is going on...we’re leaving in a few days Emma

(2 MISSED CALLS)

JULIAN: we’re leaving tomorrow

Leaving?

Leaving where?

Night had known that Emma was planning something, just not what. Apparently Julian does.

Sugar taps his foot impatiently while Night composes a response to Julian. With the software he installed on his phone, it will be rerouted through Emma’s number. He’ll have no idea.

“EMMA”: Going where?

A pause, and then Julian is typing.

JULIAN: there you are. Fuck. don’t do that to me

“EMMA”: where are we going, julian?

JULIAN: what are you talking about? Are you trying to distract me from the fact that ur out chilling w Gabriel? The fuck?

Now Night is actually confused. Is this why she didn’t answer him? Because she was busy with Gabriel? And for that matter, who the hell is Gabriel?

What’s going on Emma? Everything you need was sent straight to your doorstep. Couldn’t have been easier. All you had to do was get the mail. So what went wrong?

Sugar yells to him, “DUDE, NOW.”

“Ok ok, I’m ready!” Night says, while composing and sending one last text.

“EMMA”: i’m not going anywhere with you julian. I’ve changed my mind. Don’t contact me again

Night runs after Sugar. He wonders to himself...what does such a smart girl see in such a profoundly stupid guy? Is she that starved of attention that she’ll settle for anyone who gives it to her? Note to self: that question will probably be offensive to her if he were to ask it. So he will not.

But hopefully he’ll at least have the chance. Soon.

Sugar storms ahead, and Night basically has no choice but to follow.

Sure enough, they head through metal detectors on their way in, and are then greeted by a squad of security guards. A guard steps in front of them. How many times is this going to happen today?

“Please swipe ID cards on the way in.”

This guard is nicer than the last one, he said please. He’s still in the way though. Sugar steps up.

“Hello sir, we don’t have ID cards because we don’t actually work here. We’re merely here for our appointments at the separation facility. We’re wearing our uniforms to indicate our status.” Sugar says, oozing with professionalism and aggressively overdoing it. Night fights a laugh under his breath (“merely..?”) and Sugar elbows him discreetly. The guard frowns.

“Is that so? We weren’t told of any separation appointments scheduled today...in fact, it’s rare that they’re ever scheduled on Fridays. What’s the reason you’re here for the service today instead of Monday?”

At this moment, both Sugar and Night are hoping that the other one has more knowledge of who the hell Vacaters actually are and what the hell the separation facility actually does. Unfortunately, neither of them do. Night realizes that he’ll have to throw another hail mary pass and hope for the best.

“Well it’s because, the...service...is going to be followed by a session with some other associates at LOUNGE.”

Now it was Sugar’s turn to try not to laugh. That was officially the dumbest ass response ever, which is why he is the resident debauchery mastermind and Night spends every night in front of a computer and a dead plant.

Night tries to remain confident. He couldn’t bank on these guys not understanding Vacaters, like the last pair of idiots, but he gambled that he could bank on them not knowing much about LOUNGE. From the look of it, these guys don’t seem like the type to be invited to an exclusive, glamorous party. They’re wearing jumpsuits.

“What? Really? That’s so...unusual.” One guard says. The other nods in agreement. They actually seem a bit...jealous? As in, why have these two bratty teenagers been invited to the top floor when we who have worked here for five years never will?

“Well yes, my father is a builder and it’s, uh, a sort of rite of passage for me to be vacated, er, separated, alongside him. In a celebratory way. After work.”

If Night got away with this, he’d owe the forces of the universe one.

The guards just nod in admiration while Sugar looks incredulous.

“Well then, good luck young man. We hope your last night will be a special one.”

The guards exchange nods with Night and Sugar, who head forward to the glass elevator.

“Separation facility is on 43!” Calls one of the security guards from behind, almost wistfully. Maybe one day he’ll get the chance to see what’s up there. But not likely.

Once inside the glass elevator, Sugar hugs Night around the shoulder.

“Ok honestly, I’m a bit shook that you’re a bad ass. Was pretty sure that you were just a virgin computer nerd.”

Night laughs to himself. That’s all that anyone has ever expected of him. But right now, seeing himself through Sugar’s eyes as a genius lawbreaker feels good. Intoxicating, even.

“What floor’d he say? 45, was it? Sugar asks.

“Why not go straight to the top?” Night asks, with a mischievous grin.

He hits the number “100” without waiting for an answer.

* * *

Emma crashes through the front door of her house, ready to have to explain herself to her parents and hoping to get through it painlessly.

But they don’t seem to be home. “Mom? Dad?”

They must be out looking for her. Now it all makes sense...her neurotic mother was blowing up her phone because she couldn’t even trust her daughter to take a walk around the damn block. Then her phone got destroyed in the parking lot. And now, since she hasn’t answered, they’re out looking for her. And when they eventually get back, she’ll probably be sent to prison. Cool.

Emma decides to take this time as a gift. Tune everything else out. This is her shot to save Isabel.

Emma runs upstairs to her room and tears the cardboard off the headset. She tosses the instructions aside because she has enough knowledge to put one of these together without them.

Does it need to be charged? It does not. It’s ready to go.

Now, to check on the download…

7 HOURS REMAINING

She groans. It’s speeding up, but not enough. She needs to plug in now, not in 7 god damn hours. She sees on her computer that there are a shit ton of unread G-chat messages from Zoe. Ugh, she’s probably dealing with some sort of jealousy moment right now and Emma just doesn’t have time to deal with it. So she doesn’t open them. Sorry Zo. You’ll forgive me.

Emma wracks her frazzled brain--there’s gotta be a way for her to get online and contact Emma.

Wait.

Emma runs across the hallway to Isabel’s room, carrying the headset and headphones. Isabel is still slumped over in her chair, alive, looking the same as before. Well at least she’s alive, which is cool. Emma examines the game on the computer--scanning the twisted map view of a city for any sign of her sister. None. Hm, guess it doesn’t work like that.

Emma looks at the game settings.

Ah, input/output. Yes. This is it.

If she can’t join from her own game, maybe she can join Isabel’s.

Emma sits down on a pile of clothes in the back of Isabel’s closet. She might as well get comfy, she could be here for a while. She puts on thick noise-canceling headphones and the headset, and everything goes dark and quiet.

Power on.

Emma wirelessly connects to Isabel’s computer, then sees the icon for the Universe game pop up in front of her eyes. With a nod, she selects it.

Black becomes blue.

Silence becomes ambient drone music.

Isabel’s done VR before, so she expects this. She still feels excitement. This technology never ceases to amaze her.

It’s when the feeling of the laundry beneath her fades away into a rush of cold air...

This, she does not expect.

#write #writer #writers on tumblr #writers #yanovel #yanovels #scifi story #my writing #hackergirl #gamergirl #virtualreality #scifi writing

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jessi-novel-idea · 6 years ago

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The Family Business: Chapter Three - Cardboard Jungle

Description: Jax Teller’s sister makes an unexpected return, will she be able to settle back into the life or will it all be too much?

Warnings: language, not really anything too bad (just a little fluff)

Word Count: 2,723

I woke to the obnoxious sound of my alarm and I all I really wanted to do was throw it at the wall and go back to sleep. 6:00am came too damn early. As I rolled out of bed I stretch and began to get ready for my first full day at work. I really hope today isn't just going to be intern shit, I have had too many years of that. It was inevitable though having to start at the bottom and work your way up, but a woman in Charming surrounded by the men in the DA's office was going to be a long journey to the top. I guess you can say I am a competitive person (not surprising given my family tree). In the Teller family you have to be competitive to stay alive, honestly it is just my mother's influence coming out in me, which is truly unfortunate.

As I pulled into the parking lot at work and gathered my bags, I took a deep breath and headed into the courthouse.

When I got inside the guard standing at the metal detector handed me a name badge as I walked through. He was a tall guy, about 6 foot and muscular, with bright blue eyes. "Have a good first day Ms. Teller."

"Thank you, Mr. Miller" I responded taking my name badge and reading his.

"Call me Danny!" He said with a smile

"Well Danny, I'm Jenna, have a great day" I smiled back at him.

As I continued my journey through the courthouse to my office I started getting nervous. What if they don't like me? What if I mess up? Maybe I'm not ready for this? By the time I fought all those thoughts I had reached the door and turned the handle and entered and was immediately greeted by Wes.

"Good morning Miss. Teller, ready to start?"

"I think so..." I said following him to a desk and trying to sound as confident as possible, I am assuming it was mine giving the fact it is in the corner next to the storage room where they filled all old cases.

"Here is you work space, the first thing I want you to work on is familiarizing yourself with the cases this department has had in the last month and any open cases we are working on, that way you can see the work we do here in the Charming DA's office and the way we like to handle our cases and clients. Any questions?"

"Not that I can think of." I responded thinking of how fun this was going to be, while trying not to roll my eyes at him.

The first hour or so went by fast because I began moving the boxes around in the storage room and tried to get it all organized. Just when I got started pulling cases from second box when I heard my phone vibrate on my desk. Looking down at my phone I noticed I had a text from I number I didn’t recognize.

XXX-XXX-XXXX: Hey Jen its Op, this is my new burner. I was wondering if we could talk about last night?

Me: I am at work right now Op, but we can talk later if you want to meet after I get off?

Op: Of course…are we still going to storage and furniture shopping?

Me: Yep, if you are still up for it

Op: I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to spend the afternoon with you. How is your first full day anyway?

Me: Boring, I am stuck reading old files. Same shit I did in while I was in school.

Op: I'm sorry love, but I will let you get back to work… I will see you at 5.

Love? That's a new one even for Opie I am usually sweetheart or darlin’.

The rest of the day drug on, they had a welcome lunch with the judges and attorneys in the building to let me meet all of them, which was painfully awkward considering a couple of them knew me and my family for our not so law-abiding ways. No one asked questions though so that was a plus, I don’t like explaining the family business to people in the justice system.

As I walked out to meet Opie in the parking lot I was surrounded by the other people from my office, but I still said a goodbye to Danny and told him to have a goodnight and he returned the statement. I was the only one to acknowledge his presence though, typical. Some people experience a little bit of success and look down upon people who are different.

As soon as I walked outside I saw Opie leaning against his bike in the fire lane. He had his cut on and his beanie, his usual look, but I would never complain, because damn he could pull off that look. He smiled at me as I turned to say goodbye to my co-workers, all of which were staring at him like he was the worst person in the world. So damn judgmental, but they probably only see the cut and they don't understand it. Definitely going to be questions about this tomorrow, questions I plan on dodging, because it isn’t really any of their business.

I was greeted by a big hug and an Opie Winston classic smile. "Hey, you ready to go?"

"Yes, very ready." I replied

"Hop on!" He said patting the seat behind him

"I can't ride in this skirt and these heels, I need to change. Plus, I thought you were going to bring your truck? We can go to my hotel and get my stuff, change and drop my car off and head to get your truck, what do you think?"

"I got caught up at TM and didn't have time to run home to get it. But, that sounds good to me, I follow you to your hotel to make sure you are okay."

All I could do is flash him a smile and turned toward my car so he couldn’t see the blush that appear just by his simple statement to make sure I was okay.

I walked across the lot to my car, put my bags in the backseat and climbed in bringing the engine to life. As I drove to the hotel I couldn't help but let my mind race to what I thought Opie would say about last night. A part of me wanted him to be happy about it and the other part was telling me I am crazy and I need to think about Donna and his kids in this situation. I couldn’t be selfish.

When I pulled into the hotel parking lot Opie sped up to park before me and was getting off his bike and he walked over and opened my door, such a gentleman. We were silent as he followed me up to my room. He finally broke the silence once we got in the room and he shut the door.

"Wow, this is a nice place."

"Yeah, it has served my purpose, but I can't wait to be in my own place tonight." I said walking over to my bag down. I walked over to the dresser and pulled out some clothes to change into. Opie had taken a seat at the end of the bed watching me intently.

I walked over to the bathroom to change. I was so glad to get out of these business clothes.

Opie's POV:

I don't think Jenna knows that I can see her right now in the mirror across from the bathroom, and I know I should say something but I love this view. When she slides her skirt down and steps out of it she is left in a matching lace bra and thong set and DAMN she is still smoking hot. When she bends over again to slide the yoga pants on I realize there is an awkward tightness beginning in my jeans.

Shit…OMG… what am I doing, I am a married man and I love Donna. But this is Jenna it is different, no its not, yes, it is I have loved her since I was 15…I continue this debate until I hear her say something, but I didn't know what she said.

"I'm sorry, what’d you say," I say back in her direction, trying to distract myself.

"You said you wanted to talk about last night? What's on your mind?" She asked coming around the corner. Even though she is just in casual clothes I find myself admiring how the clothes hug her curves.

"Oh...umm yeah I'm sorry about the…umm…kiss" I finally stuttered out.

"Sorry? There is nothing to be sorry about, if anything I should apologize to you" she said giving me a quizzical look.

"I just feel so comfortable with you, I can tell you anything and when you gave me that money and I didn't know how to thank you so I kissed you," I admitted

"I feel comfortable with you too. That thank you was certainly enough," she said giving me a smirk.

"Ready to go drop your car off at your apartment?" I asked assuming she was given she had packed up everything.

"Yeah" she said reaching for her bags, but I beat her to it and grabbed her bags as I followed her down to the lobby.

Jenna's POV:

Once we got to my apartment building, Opie carried my bags up and jokingly picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder and carried me back down to his bike.

"Put me down," I yelled, hitting him lightly on the back.

"Yes, your majesty," he said like a smartass as he put me down. I just playfully nudged him slightly.

I hopped on the back of his bike and hugged tight to him as we drove off to his house to get his truck.

When we pulled in the driveway, Donna was walking outside, she must have heard the bike roar as we made the turn onto his street.

"Hey Donna, how are you?" I asked stepping off the bike.

"Pretty good, glad to see you, you look great," she said hugging me.

"Thanks, where are the kiddos?" I said looking around

"With some friends from school."

"Cool, would you mind if I borrowed Op for a little bit to help me move some boxes into my apartment?"

"That's fine with me," she said kissing Opie on the cheek "Oh and Jenna.... Thank you for the money, it means a lot."

"You are welcome, it’s nothing, just let me know how I can help y'all. You guys are family" I said climbing into the truck with Op. We waved to Donna as we backed out of the driveway.

"Jax is at TM we can go pick him up now." Opie said staring out the windshield.

"Okay, I will give him a call to see if he still wants to go."

"I am sure he will, he needs a break from your mom she is driving him crazy about what to get you for your house and what to get for Abel’s nursery" he said laughing.

"My mom does have a way with driving people crazy,” I said with a laugh “But in all honesty, kitchen stuff would be nice, because I literally have nothing."

"Ok, I will inform Gemma." He said with a smirk.

The rest of the ride to TM was quiet, but that was fine I was enjoying just being in his company.

We picked up Jax and headed to the storage unit. When we got there and opened the door, we saw the stacks of boxes and other junk mom had kept through the years.

Jax grabbed what he needed for Abel and I grabbed the few boxes of stuff I had from before I left. When I had put my last box in the back of Op's truck, Jax came over with a box with our dad's name on it. It appeared to be old pictures and old Harley manuals, nothing I am interested in. Jax however loved it.

We left the storage unit and headed to the furniture store where I quickly found a living room and bedroom set that I loved and bought. I think Jax and Opie were mad that I picked the pieces I did…they kept complaining that I bought the heaviest furniture in the store.

By the time we had finished unloading everything it was 8 o'clock and I bought them dinner at the diner on the corner to thank them. When we finished eating and walked back outside I saw Tara pull up to the curb to get Jax. Didn't know they were getting close again.

"She is taking me to see Abel," he said after looking my way, where I am sure I had quite the facial expression.

I said goodbye to Jax as he drove off with her, wow I still really hate her. After all these years you would have thought I would have gotten over her breaking Jax’s heart, but I guess not. If we are being honest I will probably never get over that.

Opie walked me back to my apartment and I asked him to come up. When we got back into the apartment he walked over and started assembling my bed.

"Hey, you don't have to do that. I am fully capable." I said waving the screwdriver he needed at him.

"Oh, I know you are, but I don't want to leave you yet," he admitted looking up at me, but not making eye contact. I know I turned red because I got butterflies in my stomach at the thought of him wanting to spend more time with me. All I could do was smile and go back to unpacking some boxes.

Another hour went by and Op had the bed put together and put on the sheets and comforter, so sweet. That is when he walked over and grabbed my face and kissed me again. I was stunned.

"What was that for?" I questioned, completely shocked

"It was a goodnight kiss, you deserve it and you look so beautiful and I have been wanting to do that since I saw you walk out of the courthouse earlier."

"Thanks for all your help today, I really appreciate it." I blushed not being able to look him in the eye.

"No problem, I would do anything for you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know" walking over to my bed and sitting down. That was an odd question. Of course I know he would do anything for me.

"Well good. I better go though Donna will have my ass if I am too late getting home. I will talk to you tomorrow. Have a great day at work Jen." he said walking over and giving me another kiss on the forehead

"You to Op, be careful going home."

"Always am, love.” He said with a wink.

I closed the door behind him and changed into my pjs and got ready for bed. When I got settled into bed my phone notified me that I had a message.

Op:I made it home; I had a great time today.

Me:Me too, thanks for all your help.

Op: No problem, sweet dreams :)

Me: Night Opie :)

I typed, "Love you" in a new message to him but quickly deleted it. What was I doing, I can't do that to Donna or his kids. We always want what we can’t have, at least that is what they say.

Well this is the first night in my apartment…all alone, before Opie left he made sure I had a gun in the top drawer of my side table and that my bed faced the door. Things that I would have done anyway considering my upbringing. I am honestly surprised that Jax and him didn't make the prospect come guard the door, until we all got use to me being here on my own. But, I am a big girl I can do this, even though I am a little jumpy anytime I hear a noise.

I checked my alarm one more time before laying my phone on my side table, rolling over and drifting off to sleep.

#sons of anarchy #jax teller #opie winston #soa #fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #samcro

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kelsmister · 6 years ago

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Phoenix Fan Fusion 2019 -- Artist Alley Review May 23-26 2019 *Thursday - Sunday* ==Opinions expressed are completely my own, and from my own record. If your experience differed, then good for you. This is how the event unfolded for me. You are more than welcome to write your own review, and even allowed to vend at this event. Keep in mind my opinions are again, of my own accord.== Once again I decided to brave the desert sun and venture out of my comfortable air conditioned room to sell my various wares in the hopes of making a decent buck. After my hard drive crashed two weeks ago I had high hopes this event could at least cover part of those expenses. Oh boy, did this show do a 180 and nose dive into the deep end of the pool without bracing for impact. Where to start? I’ve been doing PCC (as it was formerly known as before the lawsuit involving San Diego vs some weird event in Colorado), for about 6 ish years now. Maybe closer to 10 by now. Point is, I’ve seen this show go from great things to downright lousy. This year was one of the lousier ones. For those who don’t know, or plum forgot, around 2 years back a man brought in real weapons, real bullet proof armor, and had threatened the life of one of the guests at the con. Idiot posted said exploits online where his one and only online chum alerted authorities and he was swiftly apprehended before he could do such vile acts. The next day the con had to crack down hard on security, as the city pressured them to not have one of those ‘mass shootings’ happen in THEIR city. (Hey I don’t want to be shot at either!) The whole scramble to get metal detectors and REAL security personnel (not just teen volunteers) took it’s toll as lines stretched for hours around the buildings in 110+ sweltering heat. Some passed out, others drenched in sweat, it was bad. Many vowed never to return, as last year did show a slight decrease in attendance. However the damage was already done. Last year the increased costs for security left the con with empty wallets and almost zero budget, they fell seriously into the red nearly going bankrupt because of it. So this year they revamped everything by cutting corners wherever they could. First thing- entry points restricted to just 3. I believe the prior year it was 5, so right there it’s not as many personnel you need to hire, or rather pay the company to hire. Secondly, they moved registration back inside the building, so saving on rental tents and such. Third, they really cut corners with the artist alley. They added more artists. Pipe and drape were scraped. Tables were now side by side, no gaps no 2 feet of spacing between you and your neighbors. Now everyone resided in 8 table deep rectangles with taped down walkways behind everyone to ‘allow entry/exit’ for the middle tables with mini pipe and drape at the ends to block out the attendees. Did I mention more artists? Seriously, they squeezed in so many that the aisles did not match up with the vendor aisles. Row 900 was actually row 1000 in artist alley. This confused several attendees walking by who would look up to see a huge banner saying one thing but the ground saying another. Our once nicely printed up table signs, which use to hang off of the pipe and drape backings were now lazily stapled to the front of tables, which fell off rather easily fyi. The rectangle of selling for each cluster of artists left many to just push their now brought from home photo backdrops to the very edge of their space, some not caring at all and just going over these 1.5 feet of ‘walkway’. Many tri-pod legs stuck out, I myself kicked a few out of frustration and even had to yell at a neighbor behind me who somehow thought the double lines were ‘his’ space. Again, no one ever came by and demanded the space be free. If pipe and drape were used instead it wouldn’t have been an issue. But being right up against each neighbor was infuriating to say the least. You couldn’t hang anything on the sides of your display for fear people would think it was your neighbor’s work. Without the pipe and drape the sea of artists looked horrid. Random photo backdrops as far as the eye could see. Some looked good, but others yuck. For those who don’t have backdrops it looked just like a big yard sale. And a lot, and I mean A LOT of tables were left empty. At cons it’s common for a few people not to show up, emergencies happen, but heck even my neighbor didn’t show allowing me to stretch out onto his space (free of charge kind of nice). Besides this they never did closing announcements. You got one at 5 minutes till but nothing else. Not saying every con does this, but at a show this big, and a hall this grand, you have to warn the public. “Hey guys 1 hour until the vendor hall closes!” “Not to alarm you all but the hall closes in 30 minutes!” “Better make those last minute purchases, hall is closing in 10 minutes. Please start making your way to the exit!” Nope, none of this. Also, randomly, on Saturday around noon someone got a hold of the overhead PA system and started blaring music. It was so loud we all were covering our ears. After song number two started to play I rushed over to the exhibit hall manager booth where I kid you not an ARMY of angry vendors were ready to lynch someone. Eventually the music cut off and we all cheered, but never heard how that happened. Maybe a blu-tooth thing?

Security. Oh boy. They had MAJOR problems. This was supposedly the same company hired the prior year, but man they didn’t act like it. Prior year everything ran smoothly, never a problem, but this year it felt like rookies-r-us training camp or something. Day 0 I overheard one of them, as they searched me ask another “Uh.. what do I do again?” Not exactly encouraging to hear. I get not all of them can be trained veterans of this, but most acted like day 1 newbies. Each day their ‘allowed/not allowed’ list changed. Sometimes they allowed bottled water, other days nope toss it. Luckily being a vendor they allowed me all the bottles of soda and water and snacks, but I heard the rumors. Some said they had to toss their sealed Gatorade or sandwiches in bags. And sometimes I was allowed in any entry point, the last two days they forced me to the one furthest away. Again, you guys can’t change the rules EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Pick something stick with it. Heck on one day, I think Friday, I got in the specialty line but the staff pointed me to general and said it “would be quicker”. Ok whatever. So I hoped over, nope. It wasn’t. Guys in front of me reeked of BO, and this was at 9am, and of course had bags in a bag in a bag. So searching took FOREVER. As I’m waiting for my turn a supervisor approaches me and points to the other line saying “Madam vendors are supposed to go through the specialty line-” I cut her off “YES I know, YOUR employee sent me HERE. I’m not hopping lines, I’m staying here. Go yell at her.” She tried to make me go but gave up after a bit. Never had this problem before. Makes me wonder what this company did to suddenly get a bunch of rookies working for them who haven’t got a clue. OH. With the weird ness too, some days they made me open the money box and shuffle through it, other days nope didn’t care! AGAIN IT WASN’T CONSISTENT. NOT ONE BIT. Bathrooms. Another disgusting beast. This convention center has multiple bathrooms, I’m thankful for that, but the one closest to me oh boy, it was busy almost every hour. It reeked by the end of day one and never lost that lovely wretched odor of feces, urine, and chlorine. Did I forget to mention that cleaning staff, fed up with doing their one job of cleaning, almost went on strike during this? They complained to the con saying the bathrooms were too hard to maintain during this crazy event, and had threatened to just up and close the downstairs restrooms as a consequence. Con luckily put their foot down, but it did explain why at one point I saw the barrier up around the bathroom while the cleaning crew gave me the stank eye as I had to walk further down to whiz. So, the take away, if you didn’t bother to read my lovely little rant. PROS: - 8 foot table - 3 badges per table - Largest show in AZ - Easy to get into (application wise) - Big attendance numbers - Several hotels near by - Easy walk from light-rail (public transit)

CONS: - Table cost over $300 (for inline) - Table cost varying $300-500+ (endcaps higher) - Security and flip flop rules - No ‘cheap’ food alternatives - No food trucks, only con center food court - Strict food ban (cannot bring in whole pizzas) - No free parking - Booth space reduced - Pipe and drape gone (possible cost in future) - TONS more artists now - Guests not best draws - Crowded but not a lot of buyers - Huge homeless problem (it is downtown) - Ticket scalpers, you have been warned - Aisles narrowed - Tables side by side (no exits for some)

#phoenix fan fusion #2019 #artist alley review #confessional #rant #con #convention #pcc #phoenix comic con

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amanda-fior · 6 years ago

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I shared my personal mental health story with my vet class

I shared my very personal story with my classmates for R U OK day in our private facebook group and I received so much love and support. This is a copy of my post:

Today was R U OK day. I thought I would take this opportunity to talk about my recent experience with mental health and trying to find help. Sorry in advance for rambling. Also, just a warning that this is a pretty full on post. I just want to share it because mental health is something that most vets and vet students will struggle with at some point. It is important to know that you’re not alone and to speak up if you think it might help someone.

A few months ago, I had suicide ideations. I knew I had to go to the hospital to remain safe. Starting that conversation with my mum was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I have attempted suicide in the past and my partner at the time convinced me to tell my mum, who reacted very badly. She didn’t understand depression or anything like that at the time and her mind went straight to my brother who died when I was younger. He had been in a car accident and spent his 19th birthday on life support before it was switched off. My suicide attempt brought all that back for my mum and she yelled, “How DARE you?! Your brother fought as hard as he could for his life and you just want to throw yours away?!”

The second reason I was scared to get help, was the way the mental health nurse in Armidale treated me last time. She did not appear to care at all and clearly didn’t believe me when she asked if I had been sexually assaulted as a child. She asked me that same question several times and then made a face when she finally wrote my answer (”no”) on her clipboard.

Thankfully, this time my mum and the hospital staff were much more supportive.

I was admitted to the low care mental health unit, which is a locked ward. It is a secure and safe place but it did nothing to actually help me mentally.

The first thing that I was required to do, was very confronting. The mental health nurse that I was assigned to, along with a student nurse, led me into a conference room to meet with the psychiatrist. There was also a psychiatrist registrar and 2 other students in the room. 6 strangers. We sat in a semi circle and everyone looked at me. I couldn’t make eye contact but I knew some people had their hands posed, ready to write or type. The psychiatrist asked me why I was there. I thought it was pretty damn obvious why I was there. I had already been interviewed by about 5 nurses who kept repeating the same questions. Surely someone had passed along the message. I mumbled that I wanted to hurt myself.

“Yes. And when you say you want to hurt yourself, what do you mean exactly?”

I told them that I wanted to end my life. He still wasn’t satisfied. He wanted to know all of the details. How. With what. When. How far into my plan had I got? So I tried my best to answer his questions while my answers got scribbled and typed down.

After that, I assumed I would be bombarded with help. Pamphlets for programs, mental health workers, counsellors, support programs, group therapy, art therapy.... but there was none of that.

The psychiatrist told me he would increase the dose of my anti-depressants to see if it made a difference. My nurse and the student nurse took me to my room. I had been scanned by a metal detector and had my phone taken away when I arrived. Everything was secured into place to prevent us from hurting ourselves. No electrical items were allowed inside. No shoelaces. No belts. No aerosols. We weren’t even allowed to keep shampoo in our rooms. There was hot water for de-caffinated tea. A sandwich press was brought out at breakfast for making toast and then locked away again.

My nurse asked if I was anxious (lol) and gave me some pills. I didn’t ask what they were. I went to sleep until someone woke me for dinner. I had a new nurse. Another consumer (that’s what they call patients in the ward, consumers) gave me a whirl-wind tour of the facility, not that I can even remember what her voice sounded like, I was too out of it. But I did learn that there is a whiteboard in the nurses station that has our room number, name and our nurses name on it. There were about 4 nurses on at a time and we had to go to them for every little thing. But they changed shift regularly, so if you had to arrange something like a CSU medical certificate, it was hard because once you got somewhere with the last nurse, you had to explain the whole thing over again to the new nurse.

They checked on us every hour. All through the night. It wasn’t very dark in my room but each hour a blast of fluorescent light invaded for a few moments, disrupting whatever sleep I had managed to find. The night staff started at 10pm and from then on, you could get sleeping pills. They helped a little.

I was woken early the next morning by a nurse who seemed to be running behind schedule. She didn’t wait for my eyes to adjust to the light, let alone for my brain to remember where I was before rolling down my sleeve.

“Just taking some blood,” she explained hastily.

“Oh, I had bloods taken yesterday.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she replied, ripping the tiny, circular band-aid off.

Each morning, we were woken at 7 for breakfast, medication and we had our temperature and blood pressure measured. I don’t know what their obsession was with blood pressure but mine was measured several times each day. After breakfast, there was nothing to do. We could watch TV, colour-in (if we asked our nurse to get us the pencils etc) or we could pace the hallway. I just went back to bed and reassured the nurses each hour that I wasn’t dead. Eventually, it would be time for me to see my psychiatrist registrar. This was the only mental health care we received. He would ask how I was feeling, enquire about my appetite (nil), sleep (disrupted) and asked if I felt safe in the ward (I still don’t know if he meant safe from myself or from the other consumers but I just said yes each time).

On my first morning, my nurse brought me a bunch of paperwork to sign. She explained that I was an involuntary patient. Two days later, I told my brother that I still had no idea what I was supposed to DO in the ward. There was no stimulation whatsoever. It was just me and my own mind. And the nurses kept asking if I was hearing voices so many times that I actually started to question myself. My brother, who had been visiting me daily, asked my nurse how long I was going to be there. She explained that my psychiatrist would review me in a week. A week!!! A different psychiatrist comes each weekday (from Sydney or Melbourne) and the psychiatrist registrars communicate with them throughout the week. The registrar can grant leave for an hour each day but only once you’re a voluntary patient. Only the registered psychiatrist can formally discharge consumers.

The days dragged on after that. I was made a voluntary patient a few days later and the nurse brought me my new paperwork to sign. It turned out that the only real difference between voluntary and involuntary was that they could no longer give me ECT (electroconvulsive therapy) without my consent. So that was a plus. And yeah, they still do that. But it’s now done under anaesthetic. My ex used to complain about all the old people who get it done because their heart rates would suddenly shoot up dangerously high and sometimes it caused strokes.

The psychiatrist registrar asked how I felt about the prospect of returning home. I told him that I didn’t really care where I was but my family wanted me to have a plan and ongoing support. I also wanted to be connected with a counsellor or psychologist before I went home. The registrar and the nurses told me all of that would be arranged before I left.

But it wasn’t. I was discharged the day before my psych was due to see me and it all happened really quickly. I suspect it had more to do with the number of beds rather than an actual improvement in my mental health. Nothing had actually been done in the week I was there except for an increase in my anti-depressant dose. But I was so overwhelmed at the thought of being able to walk more than 10m without turning around and getting to see my animals that I didn’t think to ask about the support I had been promised.

They did put me in contact with a community health worker. I saw her once a week and she asked how I was sleeping, appetite, whether I had self-harmed etc. I told her that I wanted to see a psychologist and she said that was a great idea. She didn’t offer any further assistance. When I questioned her about it at our next meeting, she said that I needed to talk to my GP about getting a mental health plan. Her tone sounded impatient, as if I should have known that already. I started to get angry with the whole system. It had been three weeks since I had walked into the hospital and told them I wanted to kill myself and it still seemed so hard to access any help.

Two days later, I attempted suicide.

This time, I actually tried the method Leigh Ladd mentioned in class the other day - diazepam and alcohol. I had planned to get into the backyard swimming pool for good measure, but I didn’t make it that far. I actually felt validated for the first time when Leigh Ladd talked about this in class. Until then, all of the medical professionals had scoffed at my method and made remarks like, “Ha, that was never going to work. You could take 2000mg of valium and all you’d do is fall asleep.”

Maybe they were ignoring the fact that mixing it with a lot of alcohol depresses your respiratory system, maybe they didn’t hear the part about the swimming pool or maybe they were just trying to talk me out of trying it again, but it just made me feel like a complete idiot.

I woke up in the emergency room, crying and hugging my sister. My memory is very patchy due to the benzodiazepine-induced retrograde amnesia. I had a big bandage on my wrist from where I had self harmed. I don’t remember doing that but I think it was to distract myself from the mental pain during my attempt. My sister later told me that her and my mum had to leave the room when the doctor sutured my arm. Apparently, they didn’t give me any local before suturing it and I was screaming in pain for them to stop. I’m glad I don’t remember that at all.

I was taken back to the low dependency unit and back talking to a psychiatrist. This time, it was a woman. I expected to be spending another week in the unit but one of the first things this psych asked me was about going home. Apparently they didn’t want to “institutionalise” me. I spent just 2 days in the ward.

My family were looking into any and all kinds of programs for me to get help. I asked the registrar psychiatrist about any recommendations. He said there were programs but they were expensive if you don’t have private health insurance. He didn’t elaborate. A nurse signed my family up for some carers help program. They also referred me to a program called Wellways, which is about suicide prevention. Turns out that the only people who can be referred are those who have actually attempted suicide, not just thought about it, which is why I hadn’t been eligible before.

I was eligible for help from Wellways for 3 months. They could refer me to further help if I needed financial counselling, emergency accommodation and things like that. But not counselling or anything.The lady who I dealt with only worked 2-3 days a week and I didn’t find the program helpful at all.

My family were disgusted with the lack of help I got. My sister talked to some people at her work (in community health) and gave me the names of 2 private psychiatrists. I saw my GP and arranged referrals but they were booked out for months. One of them was finally able to fit me in earlier after I pleaded with the receptionist. It cost $800 for the appointment (I could reclaim some of that on medicare but I’m forever grateful that my family were able to lend me money). I wasn’t impressed with what I got for my $800. He asked why I was there. I told him my story and he asked why I had attempted suicide. I told him that I didn’t want to live anymore (it rolls off the tongue more easily the more you say it) but again, he asked why. Every answer I gave him, he said, “But why?”

I left with a script for a new medication that was supposed to help me sleep but has actually given me nightmares and made my sleep pattern worse. It’s also not on the PBS and costs a lot of money so I’m weaning myself back off it. When I told the community health worker about seeing the psychiatrist, she seemed annoyed that I had gone behind her back to get help and told me that there were community health psychiatrists who are very good at what they do. She asked me to get the private psych to forward her his notes. I would have gladly seen a free or cheaper psychiatrist but that was the first (and last) that she mentioned their existence. I again told her that I wanted to be connected with a psychologist and she basically told me to keep her in the loop if I make any more appointments.

I went back to my GP and asked for a referral to a psychologist. But when I rang to book an appointment with the one he recommended, the receptionist told me they no longer work there. They booked me in to see someone else. I was just happy that I was finally going to see someone who might actually help. I have seen her 3 times now and she is really lovely. I complained to her about my GP (I left those details out of this post because it’s already too long!!) and she gave me the name of another doctor that I have started to see. This new doctor is much more understanding and has been doing further tests to see if I have any underlying health problems. I’m now getting cosmetic injections to improve the appearance of the scars on my wrist, I’m getting an iron infusion for my anaemia and she is helping me combat my anxiety as well.

This is the first time in months that I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I’m finally working with a psychologist and I’m willing to try anything. Over the summer, I’m hoping to do an 8 week recovery program. I’m also hoping to do some equine therapy in the future. The most important thing for me, is that people are finally listening.

I’m sorry that this is so long (and a bit confronting) but I didn’t want to censor it. I want people to know how hard it can be to get help. There are so many ads on the TV etc about getting help for depression but I swear most of their money must go into advertising and paying admin because finding actual help was so much harder than I would have imagined. I want people to know how long this road is - because one day you will probably have to be there for a friend, family member or yourself - and it’s not just a matter of making one phone call or having one conversation. It’s an ongoing process and it’s difficult. Some people who work in mental health are complete dicks and they just don’t get it.

Don’t be scared about saying the wrong thing to a friend/family member. I don’t remember what my friends/family said to me - I just remember that they were there. That was the big thing, having my family supporting me and forcing me to keep seeking help even though I wanted to give up.

Please be there for your loved ones. And please feel free to come talk to me, even if we have never spoken before. Struggling with mental health isn’t something that I’m ashamed of (anymore). Hopefully sharing my story might help someone else, somehow.

I received so many private messages from people who shared their own stories and offered support. These were the comments left on my post:

I'm a shy person and did not expect that kind of response. It is amazing how many people really do care and are more than willing to offer support ❤❤❤

#support #mental health #personal #tw #cw #tw: suicide #tw: self harm #self harm #suicide #R U ok day

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