#he pays his share of child support but he left it in his high security dungeon vault and you must retrieve it brave adventurer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

newstfionline · 4 months ago

Text

Thursday, July 25, 2024

In fiery speech to Congress, Netanyahu vows ‘total victory’ in Gaza and denounces U.S. protesters (AP) Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu vowed “total victory” against Hamas and condemned American opponents of the war in Gaza on Wednesday in a scathing speech to Congress boycotted by dozens of Democratic lawmakers and protested by thousands seeking an end to the war and the humanitarian crisis created by it. Netanyahu’s combative speech offered no sign that his visit to the United States could bring some progress in months of U.S.-led mediation for a cease-fire and hostage-release, as the Biden administration has hoped. Speaking for nearly an hour to frequent applause from U.S. lawmakers, as well as stony silence from many leading Democrats in the chamber, Netanyahu said the U.S. has a shared interest in his country’s fight against Hamas and other Iran-backed armed groups. He called protesters “useful idiots” for Israel’s adversaries.

Homelessness Hits Record High, Straining Rescue Missions (Christianity Today) Homeless ministries around the country have said the same thing in interviews with CT: They are seeing big increases in those seeking shelter, but not from migrant arrivals. “Nationally, what we’re seeing is that the highest area of homelessness is single moms and children,” said Tom De Vries, the CEO of Citygate Network, which represents more than 300 faith-based shelters across the country. Asylum seekers are not as much of a factor in the increases, he added. He attributes the rise in single moms seeking shelter to inflation—and to a lack of thick community support a mom could lean on when she needs to work more or take care of her kids.

Parents of kids stranded by Delta scramble to find flights (Washington Post) Sarah Watt was ready to get home to Utah on Friday night after spending three weeks at camp in North Carolina. Then the 12-year-old got one round after another of bad news from Delta Air Lines in the chaotic aftermath of a global tech outage that has left the carrier reeling for days. As Delta canceled thousands of flights between Friday and Tuesday, it suspended travel for unaccompanied minors like Sarah, extending the pause multiple times before saying they would finally be allowed to fly again Wednesday. That left some parents scrambling for child care far from home, spending hours on hold with Delta and searching for their own expensive tickets. Some booked their kids on other airlines or plotted worst-case-scenario road trips. Families complained that Delta did not ask about their children’s individual situations or offer to book flights on other airlines.

Seized Mexican cartel ‘monster trucks’ destroyed (BBC) Officials in Mexico have destroyed 50 “monster trucks” used by cartels in their gun battles. The vehicles, which are also referred to as “Frankenstein trucks” because of the modifications made to them—such as adding gun turrets and armoured plates—were seized by the security forces. As they are not easy to manoeuvre, these “monster trucks” are most often deployed as a show of force or when cartel members expect to be involved in a gun battle. Armourers in the pay of the cartels add bulletproof panels to the sides and sometimes battering rams to their fronts. Reinforced turrets from where machine guns can be fired are also a common feature. The 50 trucks destroyed by the prosecutor’s office on Monday were all seized in the north-eastern state of Tamaulipas, which borders Texas.

Under President Milei, the worst economic crisis in decades puts Argentine ingenuity to the test (AP) In the crush of anti-government protests paralyzing downtown Buenos Aires in the last months, some Argentines saw a traffic-induced headache. Others saw a reaction to President Javier Milei’s brutal austerity measures. Alejandra, a street vendor, saw people with nowhere to urinate. Plazas provided no privacy and cafes insisted on pricey purchases to use the toilet. With little more than a tent and a bucket, Alejandra started a small business that has surged alongside Argentina’s angry rallies and sky-high inflation rate. She charges whatever people are willing to pay. “I haven’t had a job for a year, it’s now my sole income,” said Alejandra, who declined to give her last name for fear of reprisals from neighbors. The political establishment’s failure to fix decades of crisis in Argentina explains the tide of popular rage that vaulted the irascible Javier Milei, a self-declared “anarcho-capitalist,” to the presidency. But it also explains the emergence of a unique society that runs on grit, ingenuity and opportunism—perhaps now more than ever as Argentina undergoes its worst economic crisis since its catastrophic foreign-debt default of 2001.

Thousands of migrant kids have reached the Canary Islands alone (AP) The children sometimes won’t stop crying. Health workers dealing with migrants arriving on Spain’s Canary Islands try to understand if the tears are from illness, injury or, as is often the case, from pure shock. One young Senegalese boy who disembarked recently kept fainting every few minutes, troubling doctors who couldn’t determine the cause. Other migrants finally explained: the boy had witnessed both parents die during the arduous boat voyage from West Africa. Their bodies were thrown overboard into the Atlantic Ocean. “There’s no medicine for that,” said Inmaculada Mora Peces, a 54-year-old emergency doctor who treats migrants arriving on the island of El Hierro. Mora Peces is among a growing number of people sounding the alarm as the archipelago struggles to deal with thousands of teenagers and children traveling alone to the European Union territory from Senegal, Mali, and other African nations, fleeing poverty, conflict and instability.

Violence against women and girls at ‘epidemic’ levels, UK police say (CNN) Violence against women and girls in England and Wales has reached “epidemic levels,” UK police have warned, saying forces should prioritize their response to the issue in the same way as they do terrorism and organized crime. In a major report, police estimate that at least one in every 12 women will be a victim of violence against women and girls (VAWG) every year, amounting to 2 million victims. Meanwhile, at least one in every 20 adults will be a perpetrator of this violence. Crimes including rape, domestic abuse, stalking and harassment increased by 37% in the past five years, the report found—a “staggering” increase that has prompted the UK Home Office to classify VAWG as “a national threat to public safety.”

Paris Olympics: 75,000 troops and a maze of metal fences (BBC) As Olympic fever rises, QR codes are in use on the streets of Paris to gain access to areas within the secured perimeter around the River Seine. Up to 75,000 police, soldiers and hired guards are on patrol in Paris at any one time in the largest peacetime deployment of security forces in French history, writes Paris correspondent Andrew Harding. A Russian man was this week arrested on suspicion of plotting acts of "destabilisation" during the event, as France said it had screened more than a million people as part of the extensive security measures. Roads and metro stations have been closed. Some 44,000 barriers have been erected. It's not just pedestrian and motor traffic around Paris that have been affected. French politics has stalled too, with President Emmanuel Macron refusing to name a new government until after the end of the Games, in August.

Russia is sending house cats to the Ukraine war front lines (Gazeta Wyborcza/Poland) Rodents in the trenches are making life difficult for both Russian and Ukrainian soldiers, and authorities and activists are now sending house cats to the front lines. The U.S.-based news channel CNN recently reported that “The front lines are swarming with rats and mice that spread diseases that cause vomiting and bleeding from the eyes, and also weaken combat effectiveness.” The Ukrainian authorities say the problem has also been brought to their attention. Both Russian and Ukrainian soldiers admit in conversations with the media that animals destroy helmets, damage communication cables, and eat food, medicine, clothing and leather products. They also chew through wires. “Sometimes, in just one unit, the damage caused by mice and rats can amount to tens of thousands of dollars,” they said. Ihor Zahorodniuk, a researcher at the National Museum of History of Ukraine, told CNN that the losses could be much greater. “If they bite the wires, it may lead to loss of communication, which may even cost their lives,” he said.

In Georgia’s Depressed Heartland, Pining for the Soviet Past (NYT) The town of Kazreti, nestled in the picturesque mountains of Georgia near the border with Armenia, once boasted a cinema, a bank, musical fountains, two schools and a kindergarten. Dance ensembles and volleyball teams from across the Soviet Union would come to perform and compete, and central heating and electricity were free. “It was a true Communist oasis,” said Davit Jakeli, 52, who worked as a carpenter in a state-run vocational school in the town of about 5,500 people, about 50 miles southwest of the Georgian capital, Tbilisi. But after the Soviet Union’s collapse in the 1990s, he said, everything also came crashing down in Kazreti. No longer supported by the Soviet command economy, the unprofitable local gold and copper mines and an enrichment plant were shut, putting hundreds of people out of work. They reopened years later on a much smaller scale under private ownership. Now there is just one school in the town and the cinema and bank have closed. The fountains, which once adorned a central square, are long gone. Stray dogs roam potholed roads flanked by decrepit apartments.

Plane crash at Nepal's Kathmandu airport kills 18 (Reuters) Eighteen people were killed when a regional passenger plane belonging to Nepal's Saurya Airlines crashed and caught fire while taking off from the capital Kathmandu on Wednesday, officials said. The plane, carrying two crew members and 17 technicians, was going for regular maintenance to Nepal's new Pokhara airport, which opened in January and is equipped with aircraft maintenance hangars, they said. Nepal has been criticised for a poor air safety record, exacerbated by many airlines in the Himalayan country flying to small airports in remote hills and near peaks shrouded in clouds. Nepal is home to eight of the world's 14 tallest mountain peaks. Nearly 350 people have died in plane or helicopter crashes in Nepal since 2000.

Trash dropped by a North Korean balloon falls on South Korea’s presidential compound (AP) Trash carried by at least one North Korean balloon fell on the South Korean presidential compound on Wednesday, raising worries about the security of key South Korean facilities during North Korean provocations. The rubbish that landed on the presidential compound in central Seoul contained no dangerous material and no one was hurt, South Korea’s presidential security service said. While North Korea likely lacks sophisticated technology to drop balloons on specific targets, some experts say South Korea should shoot down incoming North Korean balloons next time to protect major facilities because they might contain hazardous substances in the future.

Is China building secret commodity stockpiles? (Economist) Last year China’s imports of many basic resources broke records, and imports of all types of commodities surged by 16% in volume terms. They are still rising, up by 6% in the first five months of this year. Given the country’s economic struggles, this does not reflect growing consumption. Instead, China appears to be stockpiling materials at a rapid pace—and at a time when commodities are expensive. Policymakers in Beijing seem to be worried about new geopolitical threats, not least that a new, hawkish American president could seek to choke crucial supply routes to China.

Typhoon Gaemi sinks freighter off Taiwan, barrels towards Chinese seaboard (Reuters) Typhoon Gaemi swept through northern Taiwan on Thursday, killing two people, triggering flooding and sinking a freighter before barrelling west across the Taiwan Strait towards China where it is expected to dump more torrential rain. Gaemi is the strongest typhoon to hit the island in eight years and was packing gusts of up to 227 kph (141 mph) before weakening, according to the Central Weather Administration. The storm cut power to around half a million households, though most are now back online, utility Taipower said.

#headlines #news

1 note · View note

lucygraysboy · 1 month ago

Text

healing from the virginia trip, as he now refers to it, as though it was some sort of tragic, historical event, proves to be a painfully slow and difficult process for billy. he doesn’t want to agree that time heals all wounds because it seems that there will always be a lucy-gray-shaped crater in the place where his heart used to be. however, as the days go by, the snow melts and the grass becomes green again, he stumbles upon the realization that closure won’t come from analyzing the past. all he can do right now is learn how to accept the fact that sometimes even the most meaningful relationships don’t work out. he tells himself that they became buddies because they both needed someone to lean on at the time, remained friends out of convenience and habit even as they began to drift apart in high school, tried to give love a chance but… maybe they were never meant to be. maybe she just needed someone to give her that sense of security that she never had as a little girl. a man who’d take care of her. maybe they were the definition of right person, wrong time? not that any of it matters now…

instead of falling back on alcohol, cigarettes and parties with girls to get him through this life without lucy gray, billy focuses on the only thing that he’s still got left and can control — his acting career. he’s always been an ambitious person and so he throws himself into work, relying on routine and structure to keep himself from losing what little sanity he’s still got left. it pays off in the end. and gradually, he even begins to come out of his shell and open up to his flatmate, charlie, and charlie’s girlfriend, manuela, sharing bits of his heartache and finding comfort in their support, and the virginia trip becomes a distant memory. lucy gray still haunts him from time to time, of course — she’s almost everywhere he turns. but he’s come to accept the fact that the ghost of her will always be a part of his life. what he can do is distance himself from everything that he felt when he was with her, the vulnerability and pure, unbridled love, the instability and unpredictability and excitement of it all. he flips his life upside down and becomes a new man. (or so he tells himself)

by the time it’s been five years since billy last saw lucy gray, he finally feels like he’s got his life all figured out — he graduated from juilliard, landed his first serious role in a TV show, rebel of the west, bought an apartment in manhattan, and gained that stability that he’d never had as a child. the only regret that he has is that he hasn’t really stayed in touch with his younger brother over the years, but there’s no way that he’s missing his 16th birthday. even though he wasn’t there for his 15th or 14th or 13th birthday and didn’t see a problem with that at the time. he wants to reconcile with joe and back to tennessee for the weekend, buys him a splendid gift but… joe doesn’t really wait for him with open arms. he slips out of the barn, in which the party’s raging on, to breathe some fresh air, his heart feeling oddly heavy… and doubts anyone will notice his absence, or care for it.

“yeah.” voice comes out quiet, arms falling to her sides when he wraps her up in his arms the same time she gets her limbs through her warmer shirt, “i love you, too.” like she said, she will always love him, not guess she’ll love him. even when he’s gone and stabbed her in the chest. “but— we can’t. i can’t until you learn to understand me instead of blame me. until you learn to listen to me. until i can trust you. until you learn to grow.” because this will never be the love she daydreamed of having as an adult when she was a child, healthy love doesn’t look like this and trust is important to her. it’s more heartbreaking when she was so sure billy would grow to be the best man she’d want to be with, since he was the best boy she ever knew. that’s never going to not be baffling and devastating, how he changed so much. it’s hard to just recover from him lying to her and then acting like she was crazy for acting the way she did. if she forgives him, all she will be doing is enabling him and giving him room to lie to her and make her feel crazy again. so she won’t, she’ll learn to keep living life without him and live life for herself.

#billysgirllol #i skipped shbfjs I WANTED TO LEAVE IT VAGUE #LMK IF YOUD LIKE ME TO CHANGE SOMETHING #also lets pretend hes not holding anything in that gif lol #just standing outside bhsjefcse ignore the G*N #rebel of the west LOOOOOOL I HAD NO BETTER IDEAS FJKSNDC so lets just go with it im

303 notes · View notes

lenbryant · 11 months ago

Text

Modern Love

(Long post/nytimes) Never Rely on a Man’s Money

Divorce was a shock that led me to a new vow: financial independence.

This essay is a preview of a Modern Love project on the intersection of money and relationships. More stories in this project will appear next week.

The moment I knew I would never again have a joint bank account, I was driving home in a hard rain with a small butterscotch lollipop in my mouth.

I would take the sweetness where I could find it. Nearly an hour before, I had logged in to the savings account I shared with my husband to discover that half of the savings had been withdrawn in one chunk, right after the last big argument my husband and I had.

I called him, and I’ll never forget what he said: His lawyer had recommended it.

He was a lawyer — and now he had a lawyer? This was also a shock. I hung up, wiped the mess of mascara from under my eyes, and drove through the rain to our local bank to withdraw the rest, my two children oblivious in the back seat.

When I left, clutching courtesy lollipops for us three, I knew my marriage was over. I knew I would need to use my half of the savings to hire a lawyer. And I vowed — a loaded verb choice, I know, given the context — never to be financially dependent on a man again.

In my marriage, I had been happy to say, “I’m not great with this stuff,” as I handed the financial responsibilities to my husband. I had outsourced my financial security to him, someone I trusted — and in doing that, I had disadvantaged myself.

Divorce was always going to be heartbreaking, but it didn’t have to be panic-inducing — and it was. What kept me awake, and what woke me in the middle of the night — sweating, heart racing — was fear. I was a poet and he was a litigator. It seemed impossible that I would be able to stay in the house. Even if by some miracle I did, how would I pay the mortgage, the utilities and the taxes each month? (And how much were our taxes, anyway? I had no idea.) I wasn’t sure how I would even afford the divorce itself. I knew all about billable hours from my husband, but this time I was the one being billed.

Sign Up for Love Letter Your weekly dose of real stories that examine the highs, lows and woes of relationships. This newsletter will include the best of Modern Love, weddings and love in the news.

From that day forward, I was determined to become the adult I wished I had been in my marriage, to be the C.F.O. of my own life.

It’s empowering to know what’s in my accounts, even if I don’t always love the numbers. My short-term alimony ended a couple of years ago, but I’m still receiving child support. It helps, in addition to my income from writing, teaching, editing and public speaking. It’s empowering to pay my own bills and see where the money is going. It’s empowering to meet with my financial adviser, even if my outlook for retirement is grim. The stress of knowing is preferable to the stress of not knowing. At least if I have the information, I can act on my own behalf.

Nearly two years after that bewildering evening at the bank, I started a new relationship. In the beginning, when my boyfriend would bring over a pizza, I would immediately Venmo him half the cost. Same for a box of doughnuts on a Saturday morning. He would roll his eyes — “Maggie, are you kidding me with this $8 Venmo?” — but if he was genuinely frustrated by my need to keep things separate and equal, he didn’t show it.

I think he understood that after my marriage, the pendulum had swung wide in the opposite direction, from too much dependence to, perhaps, too much independence.

My boyfriend, it’s worth noting, is a social worker. He helps people manage their trauma, substance abuse issues and anxiety. He understood that I was doing what I needed to feel safe.

I talk openly with him, and with my own therapist, about the grief and cognitive dissonance of my divorce and the impact it’s had on me. As a self-employed writer with sole custody of two school-age children, I feel like a one-woman band. Picture Bert, Dick Van Dyke’s chimney sweep character, at the beginning of “Mary Poppins.” That’s me, cymbals attached to my knees, big bass drum on my back, a vest of horns, a tambourine dangling and an accordion in my hands.

There are some days I tell myself that my ability to manage so much on my own should be a source of pride, and that my insistence upon self-reliance is healthy. It’s good for me to know I can stand on my own two feet. Other days, I wonder if the pendulum has swung too far. I’ve Googled “hyper-independence,” and I’ve watched the autofill provide a list of phrases that seems to call me out: “hyper-independence trauma response,” “hyper-independence coping mechanism,” “hyper-independence betrayal trauma.”

The truth is, I do have trust issues, and it’s hard for me to let go of my white-knuckled hold on life. There have been times when I’ve made my boyfriend feel unimportant and have pushed him away. Feeling needed makes someone feel secure in a relationship — and here I am, trying not to need him.

I hire a babysitter for my children when I travel for work, knowing he would happily be here with them. I’m all too aware of the power dynamics that can exist around finances, work and caregiving. I don’t want to fall into the same patterns, married or not, living together or not.

It’s important for me to keep my wants and needs separate. To say, through my actions: I’m in this relationship because I want to be in it, not because I need to be.

After my divorce, my friend Kelly asked, “What’s your top priority now in one word?”

I answered immediately: “Autonomy. What about you?” She and her son’s father had divorced years earlier.

“Community,” she said.

We laughed about how these feel like opposite impulses — one for care and connection, the other for self-sustenance and independence. But they’re not opposite at all. One can be deeply connected to their community and have close relationships with others, but also remain self-sustaining. I believe this.

I think back to the months my husband and I spent in couples counseling, and how hard I had fought to save the marriage. I wanted to keep our family intact for the children, but also a lot of the scramble was about fear. That heart-racing, middle-of-the-night fear: How could I possibly make it on my own?

I’m ashamed to think of that woman now, the one who was so afraid, so dependent and so ignorant about her own finances. I’m ashamed to admit that for a time I tolerated dishonesty and unkindness because the alternative, the one-woman band, felt worse.

It isn’t worse. I don’t always love playing all the instruments myself, but I do trust myself to play them. Is that a hyper-independent, hypervigilant thing to say? I’m working on all of this in therapy, and I do think I’m learning to trust and rely more on others. I still worry about money — retirement, the children’s college tuition, my hundred-year-old house — but I’m not panicking because I know my financial situation.

Now when my boyfriend and I go out, we split the bill, or we take turns — he buys lunch at the vegan cafe, and Chinese takeout is my treat. I don’t Venmo him after he sends me flowers or brings me coffee. There is a difference between kind acts — sharing, giving — and relying on each other. It’s the reliance that still spooks me.

If someone asked me what my priority is in one word, I’d still say, “autonomy.” Being autonomous doesn’t mean being a lone wolf or refusing help. It means building a life in which my ability to do my work and support myself does not depend on romantic partnership.

I need to know that I can thrive on my own, but I also want to love, trust and feel connected. It’s a balance I’m trying to get right. Perhaps the pendulum is swinging back to the center.

I still have a babysitter for my children when I travel for work, but I’m trying not to be rigid about it. My boyfriend always offers to help, and I tend to wave him off with, “I’ve got it.” But recently he stayed here with my children for a night while I was out of town. I knew they were safe, well-fed (my boyfriend’s vegetable curry is legendary) and laughing at his terrible dad jokes.

When I returned (and as I expected, found a huge container of leftover curry in the fridge), I reconsidered the metaphor I’ve been using to describe my life. I don’t have to be a one-woman band. I can be autonomous and still hand off an instrument now and then — the accordion, trumpet, harmonica — and trust him to play.

What will that music sound like? I’m listening.

#refrigerator magnet #divorce #money #women #financial managment #financial independence

0 notes

fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Stepdaddy

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- Its here and now I lowkey wanna write more of this)

Summary- Caught in a lustful attraction, Keanu and his soon to be step daughter, fall victim to their desire. *OFC (Y/n) is over 18. (I beg you, please don’t kill me.)

Warnings- NSFW/SMUT, daddy kink, semi-public sex, infidelity (please just read the title and summary), age gap

Keanu knew it was wrong, with every fiber in his being, from the depths of his experienced mind all the way down to the very tips of his toes, he knew for certain, it was wrong. But he couldn't help himself, for though he’d prided himself on having a strict moral code, he was, at the base of it, a man. A man who could appreciate a gorgeous woman when he saw one. If only that gorgeous woman wasn’t mere months away from being his step daughter.

From the minute they’d met, Keanu had found himself urging resistance, he loved his fiancée, he did. Caroline. She was a notable, and incredibly talented designer and they’d met when the fashion house she worked with had sourced him as the face of their fall line. Falling for hadn’t been instantaneous, instead, they’d spent a few too many nights together and gotten to talking. He’d found something in her, a resting place for his weary soul, a familiarity that had yet to be discovered in anyone else. They were both well travelled, old souls and no matter where they were, as long as they were together, it felt like home. When they’d gotten together, Keanu was positive that he’d never have eyes for another. That was, until he met her daughter.

The spitting image of her mother, thought minus twenty something years in age, Y/n was jaw-droppingly stunning. From the minute she’d walked into the room, that night when she’d returned from a month-long trip to Paris with some of her friends, Keanu found it hard to tear his gaze away. She was magnetic, far more melancholic than her mother and had this sort of dark princess, too moody to be the life of the party kind of vibe. But still, there wasn’t a soul that didn’t gravitate towards her when she entered a room. Y/n was a paradox of sorts, wildly mysterious yet disarmingly charming.

After their initial introduction, just some seven or eight months prior, she’d become a staple of their Malibu household- he and Caroline had agreed that they would move into her place on the beach; it was the one thing she’d held on to after her husband’s untimely passing and where she’d raised her only child. At first, Keanu welcomed the idea, anything for his dear Caroline, though, months later, he was slowly beginning to regret it. Especially when work had taken Caroline to Italy, leaving him to often find Y/n lounging near the poolside, with her model friends and whatever lucky man had been in her good graces at that point.

They never seemed to last; the men, and every time one stopped coming around, Keanu would breathe a sigh of relief. It was ridiculous really, but he’d somehow developed the notion that if he couldn’t have her, no one else should. He wanted her, physically he ached for her, especially after seeing how the scarce fabric of her bikinis would hug her curves. And then to add insult to injury, during the stretch of her mother's absence and the short stint of one of those overly pompous surfer boys, he’d stumbled upon the most vulgar thing on his way to his and Caroline's shared bedroom.

Well, maybe ‘stumbled upon’ might have been too generous. Maybe he’d followed the sounds of strained yelps and heavy grunts all the way to a slightly ajar door that led to Y/n’s bedroom. A peek in had proven to boil his blood upon finding her with her back pressed against the dresser, panties hanging off one of her ankles and her nameless companion jerking her body into the furniture. Part of him was illogically enraged, jealous. But another part had stiffened, hardening in his pants and when he’d found the will to rip his eyes away from the scene, Keanu had stolen to his room, taking himself in his hand after a pumping some lotion from a bottle on the nearby nightstand into his palm, grunting Y/n’s name through clenched teeth as he fucked himself. After that, it was hard to look at Y/n without thinking of what he'd seen, without wishing it had been him with her that afternoon instead.

That night, long after Caroline’s return, when they had made reservations at a nearby restaurant to celebrate the green light on her latest line, Keanu, for a few dear minutes, had been able to give his fiancée his full attention. He wished it could have lasted longer, because every time his mind wandered, it made him feel guilty, but they were just heading out through the front door when Y/n sauntered in, from a hallway off to the side, head down and loose tresses, curtain her face as she secured her phone in her large clutch. She swayed her hips slowly and thin heels thumped quietly on the hardwood. “Sorry,” she breathed absently, not looking at them.

“Glad you decided to join us,” Caroline huffed and unlike Y/n, all Keanu could do was stare. And try to not drool. Her black dress was skin tight, sporting a high slit at her left thigh as if its already lacking hem didn’t boast her smooth legs. Spaghetti straps supported a dangerously low neckline and he had to actively avoid ogling at how her full breasts seemed pushed together. A bright ruby pendant drew attention to her cleavage, while similar stones shone on the ear that she’d tucked some of her hair behind, though, none of the exquisite stones were as deep or dark as her full lips, caught in a perpetual pout.

As she lifted her head, Y/n rolled her eyes, sighing softly as she met her mother’s fallen expression, her own softening as she spoke next, “I said I was sorry,” Y/n sighed again, approaching her mother and seemingly ignoring him at her side. As Y/n leaned in to peck Caroline’s cheek though, her bare arm brushed his, and Keanu could have sworn electricity passed between them. “You know I wouldn’t miss this mom, it’s important to you.”

“I know,” Caroline smiled softly, slipping her arm into Keanu’s, “Isn’t Shane joining us?” She inquired absently as the slipped through the front door, the steps illumined by yellow, glowing porch lights.

Scoffing, Keanu barely missed the way Y/n brushed some hair out of her face as she did. “He’s…..we’re done.”

“So soon?” Keanu was the one who spoke up that time, his interest peaked. Shane had been around for longer than the others. They’d actually met him and Caroline seemed to like him well enough for her daughter.

“Mm hmm,” Y/n hummed, being the first to get into the back of the black, heavily tinted sedan so he and her mother could sit together, “He was boring.” She never came off as one interested in offering many words, and as far back as Keanu remembered, they’d only had a handful of full conversations. If it weren’t for Caroline telling him, he wouldn’t have even known that she had a job outside of lounging by the pool almost everyday; she was a fashion curator, whatever that meant.

“He’s a doctor!” Caroline defended, knitting her brows, “A doctor for Doctors Without Borders, what’s so boring about that?”

Shifting so she could look out the window, Y/n propped her chin on her hand, her elbow stationed on the door, “I don’t know,” she shrugged half heartedly, already off in her own world, “He just was.”

Keanu threw Caroline, who’d realized that Y/n wasn’t really entertained by the conversation, a sympathetic look, effectively hiding his satisfaction with how unattached her daughter was. “Alright dear,” she gnawed on her lower lip and Keanu affectionately squeezed her hand in his, “Whatever you say.”

Vacantly, Y/n stared at her half finished meal, fork held loosely between her fingers. Occasionally, when she’d raise her head to take a sip of her wine, she’d meet the sight of her mother leaning into Keanu’s embrace as they shared innocent pecks ever so often. She liked seeing her mother happy, it had been years since her father’s passing after all, and Keanu was the first person she’d let get that close, but despite it all, Y/n was still jealous. Not jealous of her happiness, but really, who she'd found happiness with; Keanu.

He was smolderingly attractive; the specs of salt in his beard, the dark locks falling perfectly over his rugged features, his broad shoulders and towering stature. Y/n could see the appeal, and she could see it well enough to want her chance at him. It was twisted, immature and he should have been off limits, but there was just something about his rich pools of whiskey that sent shivers up her spine when he laid eyes on her. And Y/n went out of her way to make sure he laid eyes on her.

It was particularly hard either; half her time back at the house was spent in a swimsuit anyway, and she’d been especially sure to wear her skimpiest pieces when she knew for sure that he'd be out on the balcony for his late night smoke. It wasn't overtly obvious, but Y/n could tell her efforts were paying off. Sometimes, depending on what she was wearing and if they were alone in a room, she could feel his eyes following her around, and then, there were some more…….unsavory things that she'd been privy to.

It had never been Y/n's intention to hurt her mother, or steal her boyfriend, but who could resist a man as magnificent. Keanu was every girl's wet dream, older, hunky and no doubt experienced, in all respects. Besides, it wasn't like she was trying to snatch him away forever, at most, she wanted to show him a good time, what her girl her age could do before he and her mom got hitched.

Speaking of the wedding.

"Y/n?" Her mother roused her attention, just as her eyes had started straying towards the ocean view offered through the window, "I’ve waiting to ask you something when we were all together, as a family," Caroline reached across the table for her daughter's hand, "I know that we haven’t been as close as we used to be before you left for college. But you're still my daughter, my little ballerina," at the words, Y/n blushed, memories of a simpler time flashing across her mind, "And I'd love it if you'd be my maid of honor."

Widening her eyes, Y/n's jaw slacked, "Mom…..I'd be honored." Mustering up a smile and doing her best to ignore Keanu. That moment wasn't about him, it was about her and her mother.

"Really?" Caroline cooed giddily, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. For a split second, a pang of guilt stabbed at her chest. Her mother was marrying Keanu. Her mother who'd sworn off dating after a horrible accident vowed her a single parent. Her mother, who'd taken her around the world as a child, along with an armory of private tutors, just so Y/n could have the best of both worlds. Her mother, and there she was, trying to seduce her fiancé. How ungrateful could she be?

Chuckling fondly, Y/n tilted her head, "Of course mom, I'd love to be your maid of honor."

"Oh! I'm so happy to hear that," Caroline sniffled, "Keanu can tell you, I've been meaning to ask since you got back. But we hadn't even started planning the wedding yet, and then I had to go to Italy and I didn't just want to spring it on you either," her smile faltered, and Y/n knew where her mother was going with that, "I know that it's been almost fifteen years, but I didn't want you to think that I'm marrying Keanu to replace your father."

The memories of him stung and Y/n had to clench her jaw as she shook her head, "I know. It's been…..a long time, since he…...doesn't matter," clearing her throat, Y/n was suddenly fighting tears, "You deserve to have love again."

"Y/n's right sweetheart," Keanu pecked the top of her mother's head, "And I'm so happy that I'm the only that gets to love you."

Even if she'd just reprimanded herself, seeing Keanu coddle her mother was still a bit annoying, and coupled with the barrage of memories shared with her late father, Y/n was starting to get the feeling that the walls were closing in on her. She needed air, fast. "Excuse me," the chair scraped the tiles noisily as she stood abruptly, discarding her napkin next to her plate on the table, "I think I'm gonna go for a walk, get some fresh air."

As she stalked off hurriedly, Y/n could hear her mother calling after her, asking if she was okay. But the last thing Y/n wanted to do was talk about it and, as she broke through the glass doors of the establishment, sea breeze blasting her face and the sound of waves crashing against the shore filling her hearts, she sighed heavily, grateful to finally be alone with her thoughts.

Replaying the past in her head, like the best parts of a movie on repeat, Y/n walked slowly along the sand dusted wooden pathway tucked against the side of the restaurant. The area was barren of all other life, and dark void of any other lighting besides what was offered by the twinkling night sky. Usually, she supposed the area was used by workers who wanted to escape the bustle without being caught, but that night, it was perfect for a young girl seeking to escape her reality.

If only for a very short while.

"Is everything okay?" A painfully familiar baritone pierced her thoughts, causing Y/n to turn around as face Keanu. His features were shrouded by the dimness, but she could identify the outline of his frame almost immediately, marveling at how much bigger he looked under the cover of the shadows.

Blinking away her tears, thankful that he could not see her glassy eyes, Y/n nodded stiffly, "Yeah, I'm fine, why?"

Shrugging, Keanu took a couple steps forward, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "You ran out of there pretty quickly," he nudged towards the restaurant, "Your mom wanted to come talk to you, but I offered to do it instead?"

"Yeah?" A sly smile broke through without her permission, and Y/n folded her arms, leaning against the sturdy guard rail, "Why?"

"I just think it's important for us to be able to have these kinds of conversations, I'm marrying your mother in a few months after all," his words seemed to shake and Y/n was beginning to wonder if concern for her was what had brought him out there. As much as people wanted to believe it, she knew that Keanu was hardly a saint.

"You're right," Y/n teased, subtly inching closer. Any trace of guilt she'd harbored was gone from the minute he'd called out to her. Maybe he should have stayed inside if he wanted to keep up the good guy persona, and maybe, just maybe, Y/n was a little too used to getting want she wanted. "Soon you're gonna be like…..my daddy," raising her brows, she snatched her lower lip between her teeth, "My step daddy," sure enough, she enunciated the word, ensuring that it dripped with seduction.

"So that's why you came out here?" Keanu scoffed, shaking his head and clearly trying to hide his smirk, "You know, you're not as innocent as your mother thinks you are."

Throwing her head back, Y/n chortled, the sound smooth like a full-bodied red, "I never claimed to be, or tired," shaking her shoulder, she was eventually looking at him again, dark, lustrous gaze unwavering, "You on the other hand…..you might have her fooled. Hell, you might have everyone fooled, except for me."

Licking his lips, Keanu hesitated before humoring her, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't act so coy," Y/n dismissed with a wave of her jewel adorned hand, "Tell me Keanu," she closed the distance between them, leaving a weak few inches between their bodies, "Do you always call my name when you fuck yourself?"

He knew exactly what she was talking about and Y/n could tell. She'd heard him that day, even when the door muffling her words, in particular, had rang through clearly; her name as he came sloppy all over his fingers. "You heard that?" He breathed hoarsely.

"And so much more," Y/n fingers lightly trailed the zipper of his leather jacket, and she gazed up at him through her thick lashes, daring him to make the next move. "Wouldn't you like to feel the real thing?" Y/n hummed, "See if I'm as tight as you're imagining."

"You're a bad girl," he mused, his warm palms ghosting her hips, as if he was scared that touching her would solidify the act. Still, he worked against conscience, "Say it again," he urged, "Call me that again."

Quelling a mischievous soiree, Y/n laid her free hand on his bicep, discarding her last shred of rationality, which screamed that she was possibly among the worst in the world, "Daddy," she purred. "How often do you think about fucking me, Daddy?"

"Too often," he growled, hastily shoving Y/n against the wall. "You walk around in those tiny outfits, like some kind of little slut. And you let frat boys fuck you with the door open. You're practically asking for it."

"And what are you gonna do about that?" Keanu had already hoisted her up, one of Y/n's legs hooking around his hip while the other laid limp. Her arms looped his neck as their proximity had allowed for her breast to be pressed against his chest as she kept a hand planted on her ass.

"I'm gonna give it to you sweetheart," he nipped at her neck, carefully avoiding any marks, "I wanna be a good Daddy."

"Fuck," a lewd moan escaped her lips, and the feeling of his hard-on pressed against her inner thigh was enough to drench her panties. Keanu merely felt deliciously big. When he nipped on her skin, dragging his teeth as he pulled away, she clutched his bulky arms, nails sinking into the soft leather of his coat. Y/n’s body arched into his as she threw her head back, and Keanu’s hands slipped beneath the hem of her dress, the fabric bunching up at her waist as he roamed her body. “I want you,” she whispered huskily, shutting her eyes and lolling her head back against the wall.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he mumbled, pawing at her ass, kneading and squeezing the firm flesh roughly. Wasting no more time, he shoved her panties away, setting Y/n back on the ground so they could slip down her legs and fall in a sparse pool of racy navy lace at her feet. As Y/n nudged them away with the tip of her stiletto, Keanu got started on the buckle of his belt, aided by her lithe fingers.

“What if someone sees us?” She probed, finding the zipper of his jeans and then reaching inside his pants to palm his hardened cock through his boxers, grinning wickedly at its undeniable girth.

“Look around baby, no ones gonna see a damn thing,” he offered, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “We just gotta be quick.”

Hissing loudly as she squeezed, Keanu bucked into her touch, groaning languidly when she rubbed her thumb over his cotton clad head. “Then what are you waiting for Daddy? We haven’t got all night.”

“You’re right,” he snarled, hastily collecting her in his strong arms once again, shoving her against the wall, situating himself between her spread legs. Temporarily, he clumsily squeezed one hand between their heated bodies, pushing down his underwear and freeing his cock. “You ready?” Keanu’s rumbling words didn’t await permission before he jerked into Y/n’s dripping cunt, her response reduced to hitched cry. Immediately, she could feel his veins bulging against her sensitive walls, and the slight curve of his shaft reached so deep she could have sworn she felt him in her stomach. “You cunt’s so tight babygirl, perfect for Daddy’s cock.”

The feeling of Keanu nestled in her drenched sex, his pace steady and guiding, while still bordering intense rabidity, had Y/n gasping for breath, not caring if the salty air would assault her senses. His cock expended her, almost to the point of creating the most pleasurable burn, and his bruising grip on her waist, the only thing supporting her, was like electricity. Desperate to touch him, Y/n clawed at his t-shirt, barely aware that ripping it would be an unexplainable disaster. Though, her patience quickly wore thin and she resorted to sliding her hands down the neck of his t-shirt, reaching for his back.

Keanu’s tongue, dancing around hers, tasted of the beer he’d been having with dinner, and that, coupled with the lingering Merlot on her tongue was astoundingly intoxicating. The act, the danger of being caught, its depraved immorality, was so sweet that it was drunkening. The feel of Keanu drilling into her, leading her to the threshold of sweet release was far above anything she’d ever felt. The top of his jeans, lowered only enough to allow their sin, chafed the underside of Y/n’s thighs, the friction only adding to the unmatched sensation.

“Oh fuck!” She rasped, sinking her nails into his shoulders, the words swallowed eagerly by Keanu as he rolled his hips aggressively, knowing that they didn’t have much time.

“No marks,” he managed, pulling away and pressing her nose to Y/n’s. Shrugging hastily, Keanu tried to nudge her hands off, “She can’t know.” Barely registering his words, Y/n still loosened her grip, sliding one of her hands up to disturb the neatness of his hair. Around his hips, her legs tightened, consequently restricting his pace even as she breathlessly mumbled broken pleas for him to go faster.

As Y/n’s nails scratched his scalp, one of Keanu’s rough palms deserted her hip, roaming her side, yanking down one of the thin, delicate straps of her silky dress down her arm, freeing one of her breasts so he could grope it eagerly, between moments spent rolling her pebbled nipple between his thumb and pointer. Struggling to buck her hips to meet his, Y/n could quickly feel the last threads holding her coherence together getting ready to snap. “I’m gonna…..” Y/n threw her head back, cool night air combating the heat seeping to the surface of her skin. An indecorous cry parted her lips, and she barely got the words out, “I’m close.”

“The come for me,” Keanu gritted, baring his teeth as he buried his face in the crook of Y/n’s neck, “Come all over Daddy’s cock, baby.”

Under the witness of the navy cloak, speckled with twinkling specs of white, and to the melody of foamy water sloshing beneath their shaky feet, the broil in Y/n’s stomach overflowed explosively. Stars, much like the ones teasing them from above, danced on her blurred vision as a rush of slick moisture coated their thighs, bathing Keanu’s swollen member. As she clenched around him, her legs losing sensation, Y/n felt him slow down, his thrusts rigid as Keanu revealed in the feeling.

A vulgar grunt joined their sounds, ending with a series of hitched breaths as Keanu shot generous, hot bursts of his product inside her, coating her slick walls as excess dripped between them. Sloppily and without rhythm, he rode out both their highs, his movements only slowing down almost completely as they came down.

Stumbling back as he pulled out, Keanu braved himself on the banister, catching his breath. Y/n, still disheveled, slouched against the wall, eyeing Keanu intensely as her chest heaved with deep, heavy breaths. The lingering exhilaration roused the tried smile from her and leaning her head back, Y/n let her eyes slip closed.

"We need to head back inside," Keanu declared, putting himself back together. "Tell you what," he beamed wickedly, bending near Y/n's feet to collect her discarded panties off the floor, "I'll keep these," he crumpled her thong, shoving it into his back pocket, "And you can keep this," without warning, he tossed her the same handkerchief he'd used to hurriedly wipe away the evidence from his thighs.

Before Y/n could even sum up a witty response, still in the process of rearranging her dress, Keanu was adjusting his jacket and running corrective fingers through his full, dark mane. "Don't take too long, alright?" He set off for the side entrance, "See you inside Kid."

As he neared their table, nearer to the cost booths and situated perfectly under the intimate lighting, Keanu watched as Caroline lifted her head, a worried, yet hopeful smile etched across her lovely features. He loved her. "Sweetheart," he bent, pecking her cheek quickly before settling in the chair next to her. As he did, a wave of guilt, incomparable to anything he'd ever felt before then, washed over him. He'd betrayed her, the woman he was going to marry, with no other but her own child.

"Is everything okay?" She probed gently and when Caroline looked at him, with those familiar eyes so full of love, Keanu felt like he was bare naked and blasted with frigid air.

"Yeah," he gestured elaborately with hands, trying to suppress his muddled feelings, "Yeah, why?"

"Well my daughter left in the middle of dinner and practically ran out of the restaurant and you told me you were gonna talk to her. So I'm just wondering how it went," Keanu knew it wasn't her intention, Caroline trusted him, even if he didn't deserve her trust, but every question was suddenly an interrogation, a witch hunt for the truth.

Sucking in a breath, the feel of her against him, her part breasts to his chest, the warmth between her silken legs, the taste of her skin, it all came back to him in a rush, as if he were still out there with Y/n, losing himself in the pleasure. It had been a while since he'd been with a woman that age, and with the experience he'd had then, the thrill was exalting. He wanted it- her again. But he shouldn't have had her at all. "It was good," he cleared his throat reaching for his beer in hopes of swallowing the lump in his throat. "We had a nice-"

Before he could finish, Y/n was approaching the table with a cool confidence that suggested that nothing out of turn had transpired between them. When she sat though, even if Caroline was completely oblivious, a heavy tension befell their table. "I'm back," she declared with a soft giggle, hiding one of her hands, presumably the one with his kerchief, under the table.

"You are, Keanu was just telling me that you two talked things through. And sweetie, I just want to apologize, I shouldn’t have brought him up, I know you don’t like to talk about your father,” reaching across the table, Caroline took her hand and Keanu noted how Y/n stiffened, actively avoiding him.

“I should be the one apologizing mom,” Y/n inhaled audibly, her feigned smile faltering, Y/n turned her hand over so she’d have a loose hold on her mother’s manicured fingers, “I’m sorry, about just leaving like that earlier,” for the first time since she sat down, Y/n glanced at Keanu, and he found guilt reflected in her eyes, with something else lingering beneath, desire perhaps. He held her gaze, for a little longer than he was supposed to, and Y/n was eventually the one to turn away, guarding herself as she fixed her attention on her mother once again, “I’m sorry mom.”

*****

Tagging- @crybbyren @cynic-spirit @imagine-the-fanfics

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves x y/n #keau reeves fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #stepdaddy #au

169 notes · View notes

ladykissingfish · 3 years ago

Text

Under the Mistletoe with the Akatsuki // Part Eight // Kakuzu

What is with this group and wasting their free time doing such inane and pointless things? The old guy can think of at least 50 other activities (the majority of which involve making money) that everyone could be doing, rather than lining up to kiss each under a little green plant. When it’s his turn in the spotlight, he tries as hard as he can to back out of his “obligation” ... but Pein (and Kakuzu’s own persistent partner, Hidan) insist that Kakuzu participate. Kakuzu sighs and nods; he’s smart enough to know when he’s been defeated. However, Pein should know that Kakuzu will be adding a little extra money to his paycheck that week, for “hazard pay”.

Pein

Nagato was more interested in Kakuzu joining his group than any of the others. Immortality, money-sense, expertise and wisdom ... this is the man who survived the wars of the past. This is the man who survived the mighty Hashirama, God of all shinobi. Still, Nagato is no fool; he realizes that Kakuzu’s number one priority in life isn’t the Akatsuki, but money. Kakuzu would probably (and had likely thought about) betray them all in exchange for a tidy sum. So Nagato (as Pein) works to keep Kakuzu content enough to remain loyal, including making him the group’s treasurer and giving him complete control over everyone’s finances. And Kakuzu remains highly useful; strategizing, completing missions twice as fast (and ten times as efficient) as his younger teammates. Pein approaches Kakuzu and gives him a light kiss on the forehead, before returning to his room. He reminds himself to speak to Kakuzu later; he has some ideas about weapons he’d like to procure for the group, and needs to see if it would be financially feasible to do so.

Konan

Kakuzu genuinely likes Konan, and appreciates her company. Many men of Kakuzu’s generation were raised on the belief system that women were solely meant to be wives, child-bearers, and home-makers; to call a female a ninja was deemed unthinkable. But Kakuzu was a rarity in that he never saw this as being the case; man or woman, one’s inner strength was all that mattered in regards to being a shinobi. He’s spoken with Konan at length about her childhood, and the trauma she endured, and he knows that this little blue-haired lady is a sight tougher than a LOT of people (and Kakuzu’s met quite a few in his long life). Konan walks up to him and he smiles; it’s rare for Kakuzu to smile, but Konan brings it out of him. “Good evening, Kakuzu-san. I think it’s my turn.” He nods, and slips off his mask so that his lips are exposed. He leans down and very, very gently kisses her cheek. Her blushing skin is soft and her smile is beautiful as she thanks him and steps away, to let the next person go.

Kisame

Nobody knows this about Kakuzu (and he fears he would be mocked if they did), but the old guy puts a lot of emphasis on the idea of exercise. Five hearts is a lot of responsibility, and staying healthy is how Kakuzu intends to keep living forever. So every night, when the others are asleep and after he’s done with his reading, he’ll spend some time in his room exercising. One night Kisame passed by his open door and saw him using a pair of heavy books as make-shift weights. The next evening Kisame came to Kakuzu’s room with a set of real barbells , which he casually gave to Kakuzu with the admonition not to overdo it. Kakuzu greatly appreciated the gesture (and the unspoken support), and the two have been good friends ever since. But ... a kiss between them would just be too strange, so Kisame comes up with a better option: an arm-wrestling match, Kisame grabs the kitchen table and two chairs and sets them up under the mistletoe. Of course the rest of the Akatsuki gathers to watch, hooting and hollering and placing bets on who will win. Kisame and Kakuzu are both fairly evenly matched, so that challenge goes on for a while. Finally, with a final grunt of exertion, Kakuzu is able to slam Kisame’s hand into the table. Everyone claps, and Kisame laughs and tells Kakuzu that he’s “one tough son of a bitch”; high compliment coming from a man who was half-shark.

Itachi

Out of all the members of the Akatsuki, Itachi was by far the least problematic of the younger ones. Quiet, thoughtful, quick and efficient in completing missions. And polite; always forthcoming with “please” and “thank you”, and never failing to use honorifics with the others, even though some of them (ie Deidara and Hidan) don’t show him that same respect back. One time Kakuzu had caught a cold that stubbornly hung on for several days. Itachi came to his room every day with a cup of congestion-easing tea, something that Kakuzu didn’t ask for, but greatly appreciated nonetheless. Itachi comes up to him and nods. “Kakuzu-san.” “Itachi-san.” Itachi leans up and gives him a light kiss to the cheek, and Kakuzu is struck by a particular urge — to hug this kid. Something about him, perhaps everything about him, seems like a cry for parental love and affection. Kakuzu resists this odd impulse, but Itachi seems to sense that it’s something he wanted, because he leans over again and very briefly puts his arms around the older man. “Thank you,” he murmurs, before walking away. Kakuzu watches him go, slightly shaking his head.

Tobi

Tobi gives Kakuzu an uneasy feeling deep within his heart(s). Running around, speaking loudly, eating nothing but candy and sweets, acting like a complete fool — it’s an act. Kakuzu has never been more convinced of anything in his life. The only question is, why is Tobi putting on this act? To deceive them all into a false sense of security, before striking? Kakuzu has hunted bounties a good deal of his life, and a lot of the more difficult ones to catch have acted EXACTLY the way Tobi does, in order to throw off potential bounty hunters. Kakuzu learned to see through them, the same way he sees through Tobi. But to tip one’s hand and give away what you know is unthinkable in the chase and capture game, so Kakuzu never lets on what he actually believes. “Oh boy Kakuzu-san; does Tobi get a kissy now?!” Kakuzu nods, and Tobi slides his mask halfway off (Kakuzu notes the lines on the side of his face; accident, most likely. Possibly a disfiguring one) and the strange glint of his eye. Before Tobi can act, Kakuzu puts a hand on his face and kisses his forehead. “There. Now go.” Tobi slides the mask back on and hurries away with his usual chatter and giggling, and Kakuzu reminds himself to loom through the bingo book later for bounties with visible scarring on the left side of the face.

Zetsu

Five hearts means more blood needed to sustain said hearts. More blood means a stronger scent. A stronger scent means ... Kakuzu smells delicious to someone like Zetsu. Zetsu approaches him and looks around quickly; the two are alone. His brain runs through every possible scenario in which he could successfully kill and eat Kakuzu. He’s victorious in a few ... but most end with him mutilated by the man’s tentacles, and having to face the wrath of Pein on top of everything else. So he simply sighs, flicks out his tongue to taste the saltiness of Kakuzu’s cheek, and walks away again. Just that one taste was almost enough to make zetsu throw restraint to the wind and eat his fill, so he leaves before he can do anything he’ll regret. Kakuzu wipes off his cheek in mild disgust ... in a group full of freaks, Zetsu certainly seemed to take the cake.

Deidara

Kakuzu still remembers the day they brought this kid into the group. And that’s exactly what he was; a kid. Barely 15 years old, with a powerful “gift”, and full of anger at a village he felt betrayed him in not trying to understand his unique sense of ‘art’. Fast forward several years later and Deidara had changed, and most of that change was the better. Kakuzu could only surmise that the kid matured due to the constant council and guidance of his older and wiser partner Sasori; Kakuzu feels mildly jealous that Sasori was able to reign some measure of improvement over HIS young partner, but Kakuzu couldn’t do a thing with Hidan. Still, though, even Sasori hadn’t been able to completely tame the kid, as evidenced by Deidara managing to get BOTH arms blown off in a tussle with some Konoha nin. Kakuzu had been tasked with sewing his new arms back on, but to the kids credit, despite his painful the procedure had been, he didn’t utter a sound. Had even thanked Kakuzu, twice, afterwards. Deidara walks up to him and looks almost shy; 19 years old now and still with the face of a child. Kakuzu leans down and kisses the kid’s forehead, again noting his soft and smooth — and LONG — his hair was. It sways as Deidara walks away, and Kakuzu wonders how much he could get for those luscious locks, from the right buyer.

Sasori

Respect. Out of all the words that Kakuzu could use to describe how he felt about Sasori, Respect was at the top of the list. And the funny thing was, Kakuzu hadn’t even met the REAL Sasori until almost a year of being in the Akatsuki. The two had been sent on a mission, and at night, near the campfire, a soft metal sound made Kakuzu turn his head. It was a small, slender redhead, emerging from the being that Kakuzu had THOUGHT was a real person. The two had looked at each other for a while, and then started a game of cards as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As time went on, the two became closer. They both shared an interest in/knowledge of medical jutsu and procedures, and would often come to one another with questions or with articles on different medicines. Kakuzu nods at him as he walks up, and Sasori does the same. He thinks about it, bends down and kisses Sasori’s left cheek, and Sasori smiles at him, bidding him a quiet Good Evening before going back to his room.

Hidan

“Hey old fuck; you’ve been dying to get your hands on my sexy body all day, haven’t ya, pervert?” Kakuzu would roll his eyes at Hidan’s comment, but at this point, he’s ridiculously used to the things his partner says and does. As he looks at Hidan’s face, he wonders, and not for the first time, whether this is a punishment of sorts. Gaining five hearts and creating a kind of immortality only came for Kakuzu at the end of a long and bloody road, one paved with the unwilling sacrifices of other people. Was it Fate, that the Gods had put THIS man, this loud, overbearing, foul-mouthed heathen, into his path? And as the one person who just might be immortal, too? Hidan often joked about “When all these other assholes bite the big one, me and you might as well get married, bastard.” But what in the world was he saying? Surely he was joking; why would someone as young and attractive as Hidan want to be with Kakuzu? Kakuzu who was heaven knows how many times Hidan’s age, and — “So we gonna slobber each other or what?” “You’ve got a big mouth, brat. Learn to shut up once in a while.” “MAKE me shut up, fuck-face.” So Kakuzu grabs Hidan around the waist, tilts him back, and sinks into his lips. Kakuzu’s mouth is rough and scarred but Hidan’s is smooth and soft, and the contrast creates a dizzying effect for both men. Hidan grasps Kakuzu’s shoulders tighter, leaving slight nail-prints in Kakuzu’s flesh. Their lips are touching but in this moment it feels like everything is touching, even their very souls (if either of them still had one, that is). When Kakuzu finally breaks the kiss and pulls Hidan back up, the white-haired immortal seems fairly disorientated ... but that doesn’t stop his mouth. “You’re an even bigger pervert than I thought, old fuck. Who the hell said you could stick your tongue in my mouth?? And why —” Kakuzu suddenly reaches out and grabs Hidan’s face with both hands, this time pulling him forward into a very soft, closed-mouth kiss. “Better?” Instead of a smartass answer, Hidan simply nods; and now he’s smiling as he walks away. If he were to turn around at any point, he’d surely gasp; because Kakuzu’s smile was even bigger than Hidan’s own. “Stupid kid,” Kakuzu mutters to himself, still smiling as he makes his way back to his room.

#the akatsuki #under the mistletoe #kissing #kakuzu #hidan #konan #pein #tobi #deidara #sasori #kisame #itachi uchiha #zetsu

36 notes · View notes

friggsdc · 4 years ago

Text

Title: little delinquent pt ii

part i | part ii | part iii

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort, language

word count: 4000~

It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

a/n: still no jaybird lmao I’m sorry, but I brought in mamabat duke, because he’s the best at being a mamabat without smothering you like your other siblings. Steph too because she’s your sweet bean partner in crime u v u)9 For my sanity, Metropolis is in Deleware across the bay from Jersey (tho Gotham is still north of Atlantic City).

He wasn’t certain if he should be proud or upset at how quickly you’d turned Tim against him, the two of you now working in unison, playing ‘keep away from big papa Bruce.’ No matter when he tried to approach you, something always seemed to happen or come up, and it was actually starting to get on his nerves. Worse was Damian seemed to be joining in, his rebellious nature being nurtured by the influence of both Tim and yourself.

He knew it would be difficult to deal with you and your ability to hide anything, just like you could hide yourself, but… Now he had to deal with more than just you, and Tim wasn’t going to make it any easier for him. Oh no, this was going to be a headache with you two. And Damian… He couldn’t trust that his son wouldn’t give away anything he did to you, his loyalties giving out to the growing childish nature he was developing. Bruce was again at a loss, should he be happy Damian was acting his age, or upset that he was more interested in working with the ‘opposition?.’

“It’s not a mission,” Damian had commented, so it was “fair game.”

He rested his head in his hands, fingers lightly massaging his temples as his elbows supported him, propping him up on the ornate desk in his study. Fucking hell, he had to outsmart both the tech sleuth and the stealth agent of the family. Information was literally their game. Rather than giving into the growing frustration in his stomach, he stood up, now a bat on a mission as he quickly headed down to the cave. He thanked his moody bat heart that it was just two of his kids (he wasn’t certain of Damian yet, the wild card), and not… more…

The League computers would definitely come in handy right about now.

He was gonna go full fucking vigilante detective bat mode on his kids.

Again.

He groaned.

[bigR] Dad took off for the League, bet you can guess why.

Flipping your personal phone closed with a light snort, you refocused your attention on buckling the toddler into the hand-me-down car seat. You’d definitely have to get him a new one on your shopping trip, you just hoped Duke’s car could fit everything…

Damian was securing his sword between him and the kid before he crawled in, closing the door and putting on his safety belt. You grinned at him as he avoided your smile, looking away instead, “hurry up.” Shaking your head, you leaned in to rub your nose against Terrence’s own, his chubby fingers coming up to grab at your face, hair, clothes, ears, and earrings ohgodstop. Having cooed at him enough, and having been assaulted by his little nails, scratches now on your chin, you leaned back and out of his reach, closing the door softly.

“Are you sure it’s okay to shirk off for the day? You’re the one usually patrolling at this time…” you headed to the passenger side, “Big guy said it was fine, besides…” Duke smiled and nodded his head towards the car with a wink, “wouldn’t want to leave you alone with a bunch of kids.” It’s not like he was wrong, but you were skilled enough to handle your brother and… son… ah… that was going to get some getting used to. A smile and spread on your face with a light laugh as you climbed in, settling, and closed the door behind you, “ready to get going?” Damian glared at you before refocusing his attention on Terrence, ignoring your obviously dumb question, “Pennyworth mentioned Todd having finally gotten back before I left.”

Duke had started up the car and checked over everything before heading down the manor drive, now officially on the road. Meanwhile, you hummed happily, “guess I’ll have to go see him when we get back.” Damian made a face, “gross.” You rolled your eyes in amusement, “you knew what my reaction was gonna be.”

The two were ridiculous in how they treated each other, honestly.

“It’s still gross.”

The ride down the ocean side drive was calming, the windows lowered to let the cool ocean breeze in. Damian was back to his “poking the toddler’s nose” game, having gotten used to the sound of a baby, and no longer acting like it wasn’t his fault when he made the toddler laugh.

Meanwhile,

“So, who made you the baby-sitter?” Duke kept his eyes on the road, the ever-responsible budding adult that he was, “Bruce, actually.” He grinned at the way you looked at him, catching sight from the corner of his eye, “surprising, I know. Woulda thunk Tim’d have asked, huh?”

Nodding, you leaned back, “well, I mean, yeah. He’s been pretty upset since the other day, he won’t leave Terrence and I alone at the manor. He’s been staying over...” You might have felt bad for lying to Duke, but the truth was that you were lying to everyone but Tim at this point. Not that it was the first time you’d lied to them. You told the truth so often that they took you at your word, never catching on when you did fib, but you were pretty certain this would blow up in your face.

They’d catch you eventually.

This wasn’t one of those easy to digest lies either, that was the complicated part. It terrified you how they’d react once they learned the truth.

Then…

Before that happened, you made the silent determination that you’d make your… son a part of the family. They won’t be able to decide anything for him then, they’d be in too deep, you’d make certain.

Yeah, you could be a little… manipulative sometimes.

Probably something you got from your father.

“What’s up?”

“Oh, sorry, nothing. My mind was just wandering,” Duke frowned a little, flipping on his blinker while coming to a slow crawl, “not believing you.”

Turning your head to him, your grin was a bit scary, “okay, so, I was just thinking about if your car can fit everything I’m going to want to buy.” It was enough to distract him, a groan finding its way out as he pulled into the ticketing line for the ferry.

“If..??”

Now, to really drive it home, you pulled something from your purse and waved it at him, “Is… is that…” he eyed it nervously. “Yes, yes it is, dear brother.” His ears burned as he turned his eyes from you, hand now outstretched in your direction.

“You’re paying the ferry, then…” he muttered.

You put your dad’s credit card on his palm,

“Rich little daddy’s girl.”

This time the snort came from the back seat, “I have one as well, Thomas. You need only ask father.”

Duke sputtered and refused to acknowledge either of you till after having crossed the Deleware Bay.

Rich kids. Honestly.

Metropolis always amazed you, honestly, the bright skies overhead and the amount of people without a care in the world was enviable. Still, it just wasn’t… home. By now you’d developed some serious Stockholm for the cesspit that is Gotham. Even so, you preferred to go shopping here, their selection of high-quality stores mixed with less people recognizing you, and your family, were boons.

As you stared up at the towering high rise in front of you, Damian having disappeared inside minutes before, there was one other reason for coming to Metropolis…

“You’re always so slow! I told you to hurry up!!”

“Who’s slow?! You’re the slow one!!”

“Boys, please—”

The loud sound of twin crashes echo’d out the opened lobby door, the two boys in question bounding out with plenty of energy and two very red chins. “That… looks painful…” you smiled, walking over to check Damian’s face for actual injury.

“Tt, I’m fine.” He smacked your hand away, glaring at the super next to him, rubbing his own, already healing chin. “Hey Jon, enjoying Metropolis?” The bright-eyed boy, sans cape, grinned at you from ear to ear, “There’s so much to do here!” he almost lifted off the ground in his excitement, “but I miss the farm.” A chuckle came from the entrance to the building, deep and warm and just as kind as the child now sticking his tongue out at your youngest brother. On the man’s broad shoulder was an overnight bag, and a sheepish smile on his face as if he felt guilty.

He probably did, the two boys were a handful.

Duke was leaning against the roof of the car with a huge dopey smile on his face, waving at the man approaching, “Hello, you must be the chaperone, Duke Thomas?” your newest brother nodded enthusiastically, almost at a loss for words, “Yup! I-I mean y-yes, it’s nice to meet you, sir!” Clark only chuckled, far too used to such formalities, “Clark is fine, our families are… close, after all.” He watched the boys pull at each other’s faces in mock battle.

“Ah, Clark! It’s been a while!” the older male smiled as he stopped a few feet from you and the car, hands resting on his hips, “Miss Wayne.” Near immediately, his eyes shifted to the backseat of the car and he leaned against the door, looking in.

“Bruce has another kid? He looks like how I always imagined him to look as a kid, suspiciously innocent,” you froze, and he would have laughed at the thought of Bruce with more secret kids, but he straightened. Looking at you in concern instead, he started, “I know he’s not… the most affectionate father, but…” you quickly shook your head, attempting damage control. “It… no, he’s not dad’s…” You laughed nervously at the look on his face, his hand raising to point at you as his mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to process.

“Yup. He’s… His name is Terrence, and he’s… my… son…” your tone turned warm and kind, and your eyes settled on the babe in the car with all the grace of a mother, just like Lois when Jon had been born, the older super nodded thoughtfully. “I’m glad it’s you, then. If anyone in that family can raise a good kid, it’ll be you.” The two of you shared an understanding smile, though yours was accompanied by a twitch or two, swearing he enjoyed his little joke, before he turned his head painfully in surprise, as if an enemy had suddenly appeared.

Following his sight, you had to laugh at the dark glare on Damian’s face directed at Clark, “well, I think it’s time I take my leave, then.” He scratched the back of his head, avoiding the kid’s gaze. He wanted to inquire more about the new addition to the family, but it would have to wait. Jon gave his dad a huge hug, getting his hair ruffled in the process as Clark waved at Duke, chucking the overnight bag into the car.

With a last good-bye to you, he turned high-tail and ran, as if he were almost eager to get away. Watching him jog slowly inside the building, you almost swore his steps were far lighter than his build, “probably prefers to float…” looking away, you missed him trip.

“Alright, c’mon you two. Get in.” when you’d opened the door, the two boys stared in horror, “I’m not sitting in the middle.” Damian ground out before Jon pushed him with more force than Damian could resist, “HE’S YOUR BROTHER!!! YOU SIT IN THE MIDDLE!”

“STUPID! HE’S MY NEPHEW!”

“Still, you sit next to him…” Jon pouted, and combined with your stare, Damian crawled in with a grumble, “Stupid super.” Jon ignored him without issue, and you’d have to ask Damian about it later, curious as to why his best friend was so used to his insults like it was a common occurrence? Then he climbed in after, shutting the door behind him.

“Nerves of steel, that one,” you mumbled, getting back in the car as Duke laughed lightly, starting the car up before heading a bit further into the city. After a few minutes and a few stop lights, Duke gave in to the side-glances you kept giving him, having caught them from the corner of his own eyes, “what now?” The growing devious grin on your face had him on edge, “speaking of nerves of steel…” a shiver hit the back of his neck, “please don’t.” His begging stopped nothing, “fanboy,” but of course you would, and he did his best to pay attention to the road, “don’t make me ignore you all day.”

“I thought it was cute though? Haha, Izzy would be jealous.”

“It’s… I mean, he was…” his ears were burning, especially at the mention of Isabella’s name, and he pouted worse than Jon had.

“I know, but still. You know you’ve met him before, right?” Duke looked like he wanted to disappear in his seat, “just… in costume…” you hummed in amusement.

It didn’t take long for Duke to pull into the parking lot at one of the high-end furniture stores, resting his head on the steering wheel for a moment after parking. The two boys were already out of the car, bickering and racing into the store, “you have no taste! It’s all dark! You can’t put a baby in a depressing room!”

“YOU WANT TO BLIND HIM WITH BRIGHT COLORS!”

“YOU WANT TO SCARE HIM WITH DOOM AND GLOOM!”

The two were practically racing at this point, shoving each other back and forth, though Jon often made Damian stumble through raw strength, and Damian often made Jon trip through dirty tricks.

“Aaaaand there they go.” You were already out of the car as you said it, heading to the driver’s backside door. Duke stepped out before stilling, his face falling at the straps in your hand, outstretched towards him, “you have got to be kidding.”

“Nope, you’re the babysitter today, Papa Duke.”

He took the child carrier from you, strapping the pack on with a depressed aura of resignation, “this so doesn’t look cool.” You snickered as you transferred Terrence over to the pack on Duke’s front, “yeah, but people won’t mess with a big guy like you. Besides, I can handle Damian better than you, can you take care of our son?” you teased him.

“Yeah, I can take care of… him…” Duke eyed the child looking around at everything he could, taking in every sight with silent baby contemplation skills, thumb in his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Izzy about us,” you thought for a moment as he ignored your comments, switching tactics. Eyeing him before patting him on the shoulder, you began heading after the two boys, “when you get back, tell Izzy you think she looks like a piece of candy.”

He had a confused look as he followed after you, catching up in a speed walk, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Not only did his ears turn red, but his entire face and neck burned hot at the suggestive smile on your face, “Oh… wait, w-why out of nowhere though?!”

“You forget, I live with nothing but men. Harper’s not around often and Steph is the only female I see on a regular basis.”

“Get some friends,” he groaned.

“That’s what family is for.”

Ugh.

Shopping actually went a lot better than expected, and you were able to get a new car seat at the behest of Damian, “no way you’re using a hand-me-down,” he all but threatened. There were some smaller things you could easily fit into the car, a few boxes, one for a mobile, one for a few bed sets, a giant pregnancy pillow -- regardless that you weren’t pregnant, you wanted the giant horseshoe pillow. Jon was jealous of it, now wanting one of his own, as you picked up some non-essentials.

The bigger things would have to be shipped, a crib for a few months till he was big enough, small bed with side bars so he wouldn’t fall out when ready to swap out the crib. They even had a huge rocking chair! It was probably one of the most comfortable things you had ever sat in, its ability to “rock” you back and forth on its slides without losing much momentum was heaven.

And you could curl up in it.

Somewhere in all the chaos, just as expected, you’d gone and lost both the boys. Or, well, more like they lost you. Duke was still dutiful with Terrence, and he was also really amazing at looking at details and knowing what item was better than the next. Sure, you’d been taught the same skills, but you were preoccupied with Damian and Jon (until you weren’t).

“Hum… hey, I’m gonna go check out next door, okay?” Duke turned to you from the different curtains in his hand, having taken to looking at a few general things for the room; curtains, bookshelves, a desk or two.

Unlike your father and most of your family, you had far more free time to do these small things yourself, never needing to hire an assistant to do all the work. You only needed some help with moving things, of course. It was something you’d picked up from both Alfred and the Kents, the equally uneasy and comforting feeling of being humble.

“Sure, which one?”

“The clothing store, I think there’s a dedicated kid store a bit further down the mall strip, I’ll probably make my way towards that.” Duke pouted, “leaving me alone with the kids?”

“Just one.” To emphasis your point, Terrence decided to start pulling on the same curtain as Duke, though Duke swatted his hands away quickly. A one-sided glaring contest began as the kid kept his frown on Duke, not looking away.

Duke looked around ignoring him, “that’s… true…”

“Thanks Papa Duke!” you gave him a hug, burying your face in Terrence’s and pelting him with kisses, pulling back only when his laughter echoed around the three of you. Duke refused to look at you as you cooed at the child strapped to his chest, awkward, “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

He snorted and went back to picking out curtains, “and don’t you forget it.”

“You have my card still, right?” He nodded, not even bothering to ask if you needed it. He knew you didn’t carry paper notes around, having seen you use your phone to pay for things physically too often.

Taking that as your cue, you turned to leave, “text if you need anything, and keep an eye out for the boys, I’ll… look, too,” and a moment later you were outside the store, stretching in the sun with a big breath of fresh air. Dang you loved Gotham, but also? Dang you loved Metropolis, too.

[steph] hey, herd u like

[steph] have a baby now???!

[steph] ;)))))

The buzzing of your personal phone caught your attention,

[you] tim? also, switching over for a bit.

You switched recipients,

[you] ready.

Turning the phone off and flipping it closed, you began walking in the opposite direction that Duke had been told, popping the back of the case off and pulling out the battery.

You’d asked Tim to redirect a dummy signal for your phone, keeping it within a five-foot radius of Duke for the next forty minutes or so. He’d given you the thumbs up, your telling him everything when you got back being his payment for helping.

He was very curious as to why you were breaking in to the LexCorp building.

The rather fast-paced walk (almost a light jog) to the building wasn’t that long, you’d made certain the stores you chose were close on purpose. Taking out your business phone, you opened it to another text as you started up a rather… illegal app. Your phone’d been rooted from the moment you had it, and it was hooked up to a very specific closed network.

This outing was one of the only chances you’d get, having lucked out with the more lenient Duke, as your other siblings were far more vigilant. Damian meanwhile was distracted by Jon, the two acting more like brawling siblings than best friends. Though Damian preferred the term rivals, but Jon was just happy to have a close friend he could be himself with.

[splr] he couldn’t contain himself

[splr] was vibin’ like flash lol

There were very few people who had access to this phone, and unfortunately for Tim, it was a hazard for both of you to have any kind of connection to him on your work phone. Stephanie however was one of the very few people who got to have that privilege.

[you] remind me to thank him for stealing my thundr

The family had the Bat-computer, Batman had the League’s Womb mainframe, the Robins had their Nest, and you? You had access to something older, reborn too many times, and set up and now maintained by some genius mastermind you’d never heard of.

It was a mostly defunct information network by this point.

You’d met some really interesting people when you used to tail your father, and through repeated encounters, you’d met even more interesting uh... “friends.” Eventually you weren’t stalking your dad, instead, you were learning to do what you did best: Spy-games and recon.

And you’d impressed the wrong people.

But you didn’t mind, you liked the constant link to “their” information hubs.

[splr] lol

[splr] coffee tmrrw?

The Society’s Networks.

You knew your dad suspected some of your activities, but he never approached you about them. Probably because Batman enjoyed your access to these networks often when they were online, having come to you on multiple occasions to see if you could help with his detective work.

You were playing double agent, compiling what you could from the chatter picked up from specific phones hooked into the closed channels. Sure, they weren’t always active and so sometimes you had to go with information from recon, but you did what you could, your bias for your bats, and birds, too strong. For your family.

[you] the same-same

[splr] c u tmrw then ;)

[splr] don’t forget the kid lol

Not that you’d ever shown him, if Batman knew what kind of information the Society had in their databases, well… you were pretty certain the world would burn.

He once said it was best he didn’t know, something about helping to keep a balance between the good and the bad, causing both sides to stay in check.

The database’s app held all kinds of information, and as you downloaded the LexCorp building plans (sans recent modifications), you stared at the towering complex in front of you. Before you went further, you made certain the matrix encryption program was running, after all, “no reason to let anyone know I’m here.”

“Done this tons of times, can totally do this again,” but LexCorp was terrifying, Lex Luthor was terrifying, almost as much as Wayne Enterprises. Here’s to hoping your dad’s technology and Tim’s brain were smarter than anything Lex could cook up.

Besides, wasn’t he under house arrest right now?

It did nothing to calm your nerves.

“Nerves of steel, totally.”

You had to be fast.

#tim drake x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #stephanie brown x reader #duke thomas x reader #bat!sis

72 notes · View notes

bopbopstyles · 4 years ago

Text

1. December 26th, 2016

SERIES RATING: M (sex)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 6.4k

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG | ASK

Y/N promised herself she would never date a musician. It was her one rule–her only rule, actually–when it came to dating. But then, Harry Styles rolled into her life and asked her to break it, just this once. And this is what happened.

A/N: welcome to chapter one of THE ONLY EXCEPTION! i’m so flipping excited i could scream!!!!!! this fic is going to be a long boi so buckle up. also thank you to @meetmeinfleetwood for supporting this fic from the start ilysm!!!! xoxo, willa

pls reblog to spread the word about only exception! 🥰

Y/N’s dad had been having these Christmas parties for the past five years or so, each time on the 26th of December, each time packed with music industry people and lots of bottles of tequila and red wine. Her first time had been two years ago, and she had found it surprisingly enjoyable—she had expected it to be boring and to want to leave after the first hour. Instead, it was full of people she had known since she was a kid, musicians and producers and her dad’s old A&R guys who she had grown up hanging out with in recording studios and backstage at her dad’s shows. They had come to family dinners before and after her parents’ divorce, and so when she ran into them at the parties it was easy to catch them up on her life and suddenly it was after midnight and the party was emptying out.

This year she had volunteered to help set up. Her dad had rented a massive house out in the hills and it came already decorated, but it was on Y/N to make sure there were chairs set up for the music circle, a massive bar laid out and plenty of glasses ready. Her dad’s friend was making the food, eager to use the opportunity to promote the new restaurant he was opening, so when Y/N opened the door it already smelled like garlic and olive oil, her favorite scents on earth.

“Karl!” She called through the house, shutting the heavy oak door behind her. Her arms were laden with boxes of plastic glasses—her dad was too scared of the guests breaking glass ones—and she wandered into the kitchen. The tall ceilings of the entryway where a massive Christmas tree sat adorned with ornaments gave way to a modern, sleek kitchen. Karl twirled around to greet her, a grin on his face. “Smells delicious in here.”

He set down his spatula and came over, grabbing a box and giving her a kiss on each cheek. “Hello, darling. Are there more in the car?”

She shook her head, unwinding her scarf from her neck and placing it on the counter. Karl had been her father’s college roommate and somehow they’d stayed close over the years, every one of Y/N’s birthdays spent at one of Karl’s restaurants with all of her favorite dishes made special, a birthday cannoli with a candle in it for her to blow out. “This is all of the glasses. Dad told me to get the bar ready—he’s bringing the booze in a bit.”

“Hope there’s a glass of wine in there for the chef,” Karl said and Y/N chuckled—there always was a bottle of Karl’s favorite expensive wine set aside when he did one of these things and he knew it. It was part of the pay, her father always said. “Want to taste test?”

“Always.” Y/N joined Karl at the stove, eagerly tasting the sauce he was cooking. It was a simple sage butter sauce, but Karl always excelled at the most simple dishes. “Delicious, as usual,” she said.

Karl jabbered her ear off about the updates on the restaurant—they’d run into problems finding a good sous chef and he was about to do the job himself if he didn’t find someone soon—while Y/N decided where to set up the bar. Finally, she settled on a high table against the glass wall in the wide hallway between the kitchen and the sprawling dining room, which opened up onto the patio. She tugged open the accordion glass doors and breathed in the cool Los Angeles air, thankful for a relatively cold evening, since she always got overheated at parties like this, where people were crammed into every corner. Her dad seemed to know more people every year. Satisfied with the position of the table, she set out the glasses and paper napkins, before asking Karl if he had an extra cooler he’d brought with. She’d forgotten to ask her dad for one before she had left. She filled it with ice and set it next to the table with a scoop, and grabbed the special shot glasses her father had told her to bring, placing them on the table next to a bouquet of flowers.

Her job done, she wandered through the rest of the house. It was gorgeous—she wondered how her father had found it. If she remembered correctly, he had said something about it being an official venue for music and parties, he’d done a private gig here a few years back and the owners had loved him enough to offer it for this party. It’s not like anyone really had gigs on December 26th anyway. She closed all the doors to the back bedrooms, remembering her father’s request, and set up a coat closet of sorts out of the bedroom closest to the front, before heading to change into her outfit for the evening.

“Y/N!” She was securing her favorite pair of earrings in her ears when she heard her father’s voice through the halls of the house. “Where ya at, sweetheart?”

“One sec, Dad!” She grabbed the hanger she had kept her top on and shoved it into her massive purse, settling it into the back corner of the room for safety. Her father was waiting for her in the kitchen with Karl, also getting a sample of the sauce she had tried earlier.

“Hi you,” her father said when she came in. His salt and pepper hair was balding a bit, but his bright smile was what drew people in, olive skin that tanned easily in the California sun. Y/N had selected his suit for the evening, a maroon red and a black tie, something a bit out of the ordinary for him, but Y/N loved it. “Look gorgeous.”

She hugged her father tightly. She had spent Christmas with her mother, as usual, so this was the first time she’d seen her dad during the holidays. “Not too bad yourself, captain.”

“Ha!” Her father pinched her cheek softly, just as he had when she was a child. “I’ve got your present in the car, come grab it with me?”

“Sure.” They had decided to exchange gifts at the party and Y/N had hers tucked in the back pocket of her jeans—dinner on her at Karl’s new restaurant, something she’d discussed with the owner a few weeks ago. Her father’s car sat in the driveway, trunk open where boxes of alcohol laid waiting to be carried inside. “That my gift?”

“You wish,” her dad answered, and Y/N gave him a pouty look that he just shook his head at. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an envelope. Y/N couldn’t help but hope it was cash—she needed a new computer and was running a bit short. She knew her dad would help if she asked, but she hated asking him for money.

She took the envelope and opened it, a sheet of paper and something thicker hiding between its folds. She opened the letter and found a homemade coupon of sorts, just as she had done for him.

TWO TICKETS TO ANY SHOW IN LA - NON-REFUNDABLE, FUN REQUIRED!

“Papa,” she said, giving him a beaming smile. “My favorite!” She threw her arms around his neck and he chuckled, hugging her right back.

“Just give me a few weeks heads up, okay?”

Y/N nodded, and looked back down at the letter, eyes running over her dad’s sweet words of love and pride. It was their thing—homemade cards always, never store bought, despite that neither of them could draw. “Thank you.”

“Welcome, sweetheart.”

“Now yours!” She reached into her pocket and pulled out his envelope, aptly addressed, Dad, and handed it over. Her father read her card as well, and chuckled at her drawing of them at dinner together.

He kissed her forehead gently. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

“Merry Christmas,” she said, squeezing his side. “Now let’s get all this booze out of your car before I drive away with it!” Her dad laughed and followed her to the back of the car, them each grabbing a carton of wine. There had to be enough for over a hundred people, Y/N thought to herself. Who would be new this year?

The party was in full swing, her dad’s favorite music playing softly through the speaker system, people littered all over the house with the alcohol flowing. Karl was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, his food a massive hit, and Y/N couldn’t have been happier for him. She’d caught up with her dad’s friends and people who were essentially her godparents, sharing how her job was going (fine) and her relationship prospects (non-existent), sipping tequila and red wine on rotation.

Y/N leaned against the patio railing overlooking the hills, a glass of tequila on the rocks settled in between her palms. She could hear her father’s voice in the distance calling people to come and start the music, the scrape of chairs and strumming of guitars. It was about time for her to go in, but she lingered, relishing the quiet of the night and the biting air wrapping around her. Since she didn’t play an instrument, despite her father’s attempts, this part of the evening was the part where she just sat back and observed. And also usually got quite drunk since all she had to do was drink and sing along.

“Y/N, right?” She turned around, eyes focusing on the person standing a few feet away. “I’m Harry.”

Harry Styles. How had he ended up here, and how had she not seen him yet? “Nice to meet you,” she answered, standing up straight and taking a sip of her drink. “Not going in to play?”

He shook his head. “Bit nervous, if I’m honest. Lot of talent in that room.”

She cocked her head to the side as he joined her at the railing. “You’re plenty talented,” she told him. It was true. She was a huge fan of his, had been for a while, following his work in One Direction since its inception, and now in the solo career her dad had mentioned. He was recording with some guys out at The Village a few months ago and called her at the end of the day, saying he ran into Harry Styles in the middle of a session doing some solo stuff. Said it sounded good, which she wasn’t surprised by in the slightest.

But Harry just chuckled. “Nah, those people are legends,” he said. She knew who he was talking about, too. One of the Dixie Chicks was there, some guys who had written with John Mayer and Kanye West, a dozen other Grammy-nominated musicians, some record label execs who had practically formed the industry as they knew it today, the A&R people who had found them. It was intimidating, definitely, but for Harry she didn’t think it would be.

“Just people.” She sipped on her drink, studying him. He was in a long black coat, a loose black v-neck silk shirt and red and white plaid pants that tapered at the leg, his cropped curls falling into his face slightly. He also had a tequila on the rocks gripped in his hand, rings adorning every one of his fingers. A skull, a red stone, a silver band, amongst them. “Having fun?”

He smiles at her, thankful for the change of topic. “Loads. Haven’t been at a party like this in a while.”

“What do you mean?”

The breeze passed between them, ruffling his hair a bit. “I don’t know. Just, people who didn’t really give a shit about me, if you know what I mean? Holidays can be a bit much sometimes.”

She nodded as if she understood what it felt like to be a popstar of his fame, which she didn’t, but she could imagine. “Didn’t go home?”

“My mum and sister came here, actually,” he said. “They were craving a respite from the cold English winters.”

“Well, this is definitely a respite,” Y/N said, and Harry chuckled.

Silence stretched between them and Y/N tapped her fingernails against her cup. Maybe it was time to go inside, she thought. “So, Y/N, what do you do?”

His question pulled her out of her head easily. “Brand strategy,” she answered, thankful for a comfortable topic. “I work mostly with fashion and product companies, preferably sustainable ones.”

“You like it?”

“Love it.” She did. She loved her work—she’d gone to school for it and thrown herself into it after school, loving pitching projects for clients and helping them understand their core purpose and how they could grow and evolve most authentically. “It was that or books, but I decided this was a bit more profitable. Also wasn’t too keen on living in New York.”

Harry nodded, twirling his glass in his hands. She took the opportunity to run her eyes across his face—he was gorgeous in this way that you weren’t sure was real. It was interesting to see how much he’d grown up. At 22, his cheekbones were cut and his jaw defined, his former long locks he had recently cut and Y/N liked these more, she decided. “What are your favorite writers?” He asked, pulling Y/N back into the conversation.

“That’s like asking which one of your children is your favorite,” she joked, and he chuckled, the sound music to Y/N’s ears. “Dunno, really. I read so much it’s hard to choose, you know? Reading a Louise Erdrich book right now that’s absolutely stellar. The Round House—you should give it a go if you’ve got the time.”

He pulled out his phone and she watched him type in the name to his Notes app, the action making her smile. “Been looking for a new book,” he said. “Just been reading The New Yorker and my mum about took my head off for not reading enough.” They both laughed, the sound filling the night air.

“Harry!” A man was standing in the doorway to the patio, a guitar in hand. “Come sing, mate.”

Harry glanced back at Y/N. “Coming?”

Y/N nodded and followed him inside, refilling her glass on the way. Harry handed her his, and she did the same, giving them both another glass of tequila to sip on while they listened to the circle of musicians. Someone had decided to do some Christmas tunes she Y/N smiled when she heard her father’s voice—he’d made it a bit country, just like he loved to do with popular songs. He’d grown up on a steady diet of folk music and country, just as Y/N had, and he always joked it was in his blood. Harry took a seat next to his friend who Y/N didn’t recognize—probably some producer her dad had met recently, maybe one of the guys from The Village if that was how they’d connected, and Y/N grabbed the seat her dad had saved for her next to him.

She joined in immediately, knowing this rendition of “The Little Drummer Boy” by heart, since it was the same one he had made up when Y/N was eight or nine. Karl was in the circle too, a plate of food in his hands and his bottle of red wine on the ground, and he gave her a warm smile. This was her favorite part of the night—feeling a part of something her father loved so dearly. When he gave her a kiss to her temple and introduced her to the group, she couldn’t help but find Harry’s eyes, his irises twinkling back at her under the lights.

At one o’clock, people finally began filtering out of the party, and Harry decided it was probably time for him to head. Jeff, who had invited him to come with, had already left, exhausted from the holidays with family, but Harry had stayed, hoping to talk to Y/N for a little while longer. He had unfortunately failed to catch her, though, the music running long and after it had wrapped up people had tugged her in for hugs and conversation. Despite knowing who she was through her father, he was still in awe of how intimately she knew all of these people. He overheard snippets of her conversations, asking about children and partners, parents who had cancer and career-defining moments she’d missed out on because of work. Harry was in this world too, but many of the people at this party were a bit older than his usual set—they belonged to the group of his heroes, rather than necessarily people he felt were his peers. He was still getting his solo career together, still only a boyband member in their eyes. He tried not to feel less than, but sometimes it was hard when you were sat next to Natalie Maines of the Dixie Chicks with utterly nothing to say but awe-inspired ramblings.

Finally, Y/N was alone, the older couple she was talking to having left for the door, and Harry seized the opportunity. “Y/N,” he said, and her head popped up from her phone to look at him. Her dark brown hair was soft against her skin, and he eagerly wondered what it felt like against his skin, brown eyes that searched his soul. “I loved talking to you earlier.”

She smiled and Harry loved it when she did. Lit up the whole room, just about. “Me too. Glad you came—with Jeff, yeah?”

He nodded. “He introduced me to your dad when we were at The Village.” Y/N nodded as well, obviously having figured out the story. “I—I was wondering, would you want to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to chat more, get to know you.” He restrained the urge to bounce on his heels, nervous in front of her. He felt like a kid asking out his crush, but that’s what this was, a crush. Even if it came to nothing, she was kind, interesting, and fit into the world he revolved in. It wasn’t the most important thing, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Oh,” she said, tone somber. “Sorry, Harry, but I don’t date musicians. Get home safe, yeah?” She turned away from him, feet carrying her back into the living room, presumably finding her father.

What? She didn’t date musicians? “I’m sorry—what?”

Y/N turned back to look at him. “I just don’t. Bit of a rule.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Don’t feel the need to explain it. Bye, Harry.” Then, she walked away and Harry was left in shock. The abrupt change in tone was like whiplash—she had seemed so interested, involved in their conversation, only to tell him she didn’t date musicians? What the fuck kind of rule was that?

He huffed and tugged out his phone to tell his driver he was ready, and went outside, leaving behind Y/N and her confusing rule. But this wouldn’t be the last time he saw her, he decided. He wanted to know why she had this rule, this stupid rule that was stopping her from getting to know him. It wasn’t like he even asked her to date him, just to get coffee for Pete’s sake. Harry sat down in the car and pulled out his phone, composing a text to Jeff.

Could I write with Peter? Seemed like a great guy, really talented. Maybe if she got to Y/N’s dad, he could earn some brownie points. Maybe then she’d bend her rules for him, because despite their short conversation, Harry was intrigued.

Definitely, Jeff replied. I’ll text him tomorrow.

Harry closed his phone and smiled. Hopefully this worked, because Harry was dying to know more about this rule of hers.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed when she pulled into her dad’s driveway. There was another car sat in the drive, a black 4-door SUV she’d never seen before, the windows tinted so she couldn’t see in. It reminded her of those cars the FBI drives in crime dramas, which obviously led her to a part of her brain that was not necessarily a hopeful place. She scrambled to grab her bag from work and her keys, launching herself from her car and towards her dad’s door.

“Dad!” She called into the house, slamming the door shut behind her. “Whose car is in the drive? Didn’t tell me we’d be having company!” Gripping the wall for balance she toed off her shoes and set her bag on the floor next to the door, shrugging off her coat and setting it on a hook. “Dad?”

“He’s in the toilet.”

Her head whipped around and found Harry Styles standing in her hallway, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. As much as she had planned to forget about him after the party, never really expecting to see him again, she hadn’t been able to. And now he was in her house, hair pushed back from his face, a grin painted on his lips. It was irritating how gorgeous he was. “The fuck are you doing here?”

A hand went up to scratch the back of his neck and for a second Y/N regretted being quite so aggressive. “‘M writing with your dad,” he explained. “Guess he didn’t tell you.”

“No,” she answered. She brushed past him into the living room where, as Harry had said, it was obvious they had been writing. Her dad’s treasured old Gibson guitar leaning against his favorite armchair where he’d set it, computers out with GarageBand up for recording demos, papers with scribbles strewn across the coffee table. “Good session?” She decided that there was no way he was here just to pursue her—he was there for professional reasons, after all. Her dad and Harry must’ve hit it off at the party last week. There was also the fact that her dad was a really fucking good songwriter, so of course Harry would want to work with him. Ever since he’d stopped touring, her dad had started doing mainly writing, his songs appearing on records from everyone from up-and-coming artists the label found him to John Legend.

Harry just nodded. Her eyes drifted to his own guitar, a soft brown wood that had obviously seen some heavy use and travel. She recognized it from her dad’s own guitars that he used to take on the road with him, the nicks and faded wood at the base of the bridge.

“Y/N!” Her dad’s voice fell through the silence of the room as he re-entered. He was wearing his favorite old UCLA shirt, where she’d just graduated from not too long ago. “Home earlier than usual. Was going to give you a heads up about this one,” he pointed to Harry then, “but I see you’ve already found out.”

Her eyes drifted to Harry, who stood awkwardly next to the couch, unsure if he should sit or stand. “Finished my projects early and didn’t have any meetings, so thought I’d get out early and surprise you.”

“Well,” her father said, giving her a quick hug, “glad you did. I’m getting hungry, how about you?” She nodded, she was always ravenous after work. “Harry, would you want to stay for dinner?”

No, she thought. The last thing she wanted was to sit at a table with a guy she’d rejected and her father and eat an awkward dinner on a Friday night. She just wanted a massive glass of red wine, her delicious romance novel from her bedside table, and maybe lighting a fire in the pit in the backyard.

Instead, Harry said, “Sure. Don’t want to impose though.”

“Nonsense! Y/N why don’t you go change and Harry and I can tidy up from working. We were about done anyway.” Her dad kissed the top of her head sweetly and she just did as he said, Harry a forgotten thought behind her as she went to her room upstairs.

It was her childhood bedroom which she had been residing in for a month now. How her landlord could put her out for this long was beyond her, but she hadn’t had the energy to fight it—plus, it was an opportunity to spend some quality time with her workaholic father. So she was spending her evenings in her light blue colored room, sleeping between her soft pink sheets, and picking her work clothes that butted up against remnants from high school she’d left behind as memories. Y/N pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt that probably belonged to an ex-fling from college—Daniel maybe? Y/N couldn’t remember. Slipping on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm from the tile floors of the kitchen, she left her room, tugging her door shut so if Harry went exploring he wouldn’t stumble into her room.

Downstairs, Harry was sat at the kitchen island with a glass of wine and a smile on his face, deep in conversation with her dad about Fleetwood Mac’s chord progressions. A glass of red was waiting for her on the counter and she picked it up, wandering over to where her dad was cooking

“Whatcha making?” She asked, peeking into the pot.

“Pasta,” he replied. “Now stop being a nosy Nelly and talk to our guest while I try to focus on not burning the pasta.”

“Dad you haven’t even put it in yet.”

Her dad shooed her from the stove and she chuckled, backing away. “Get out of here, ya pest.”

She turned to Harry, realizing her dad was actively trying to get them to hang out. He was so annoying sometimes. “How do you feel about a fire?”

“Positively,” he answered and she led him outside into her backyard.

It was chilly out, but nothing too bad. She set her glass on the table and went over to the stack of wood her dad kept against the fence, picking up some logs and carrying them over to the fire pit they’d had for years. At first it was so Y/N could roast marshmallows at home, her father trying to do anything to get her to come over to his house more after the divorce, and as time had gone on it had become her favorite place in the whole house. When her dad was out of town and she came over to check up on the house in high school, she’d bring her weed and smoke out here under the stars.

Harry sidled up next to her and picked up a few logs, following her to the fire pit. “This is cool,” he said, words breaking their silence.

Y/N dropped the logs into the fire and looked up at him. “Favorite part of the whole house.” A box of matches sat next to the door and she grabbed them, as well as some kindling, and brought it over to the logs, setting the kindling under the logs before lighting them. The fire leaped up, the wood nice and dry from the lack of rain recently. “So, who got in touch with who?”

Harry looked at her in confusion. “Huh?”

She settled into one of the chairs set by the fire, wine tucked between her fingers. “The writing. You or my dad?”

“Oh,” he answered, joining her in the chair next to her. “Me, actually. Through Jeff.”

As expected. “And?”

“He’s really good,” Harry said, to which Y/N chuckled.

“That he is.”

“What was it like growing up with him as your dad?” He asked, breaking the silence between them.

Y/N shifted in her chair. She’d been asked this question so many times over the years, but it still was hard to answer. “Hard, if I’m being honest,” she told him, truth surprising her. But she had a feeling Harry would get it to a certain extent. He was a hugely popular star, after all. She’d heard rumors that he was a part of a movie coming out this year, something historical. “Like, my parents are divorced, which I assume you know.” He nodded, probably having figured it out by now. “And with my dad’s tour schedule when I was in school, I didn’t see him all that much, especially in elementary and middle school. He was gone all the time, even missed my birthday a couple times because of tour dates, so I just didn’t really know him that well, I guess. Fuck, sorry, this is a lot,” she breathed out, realizing she was rambling. Harry was just surprisingly easy to talk to, his eyes steady on her, intently listening to her every word. Boys didn’t usually listen to her like this.

“S’fine,” he replied. “When did it change, if you don’t mind me asking? Seem so close now.”

The fire, having grown by now, crackled in front of them. “Late high school, but mainly when I was in college. My mom moved to San Francisco for a job and I went to UCLA, so my dad was closest. Came over to do my laundry sometimes, have a home cooked meal, he’d take me to dinner, that stuff. Came to football games with me, sometimes, which he always tried to be interested in but never succeeded.” Harry chuckled at that and Y/N smiled at the sound. Harry was obnoxiously pretty. Like, impossibly pretty in this way where you couldn’t help but look at him again to make sure that yes, he was a real person. And it was really fucking distracting. “His touring kind of stopped when I went into college too,” she added, trying to refocus on the conversation. “Started writing mainly, putting out music only when it suited him. He’s a lot happier now, I think.”

“That’s good,” he said, taking a sip of wine. “I’m glad you guys were able to have that kind of relationship, even if it was later.”

Y/N blinked at him, his words so kind and honest. “Me too.”

“Always been one of my fears, if I’m being honest,” he said, words soft in the cool night air. Sun was starting to set and it was getting dark around them, the light of the fire putting an orange ember to his face. “About having kids with my career, you know? I want to be a dad, but it’s like…how do I do that while being gone all the time?” His honesty shocked her, but then again Harry Styles seemed to be excelling at that in every regard. “Sorry, that’s a lot to unload on you.”

“No it isn’t,” she reassured him. “Just told you about all my daddy issues, yeah?” He chuckled, and it lightened the mood just enough. “You’ll figure it out.”

Harry nodded, taking another sip of his wine and she did the same. It was her favorite, the one her dad bought multiple of whenever she came to stay. Even though they’d gotten closer over the years, his desire to make his house perfect for her never seemed to fade. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Shoot.”

“The rule—I—why is that?”

Well, fuck. This was the exact conversation she didn’t want to have, the one she was hoping he wouldn’t bring up. “It’s actually related to what you were just saying,” she said slowly. He’d get it after everything she’d explained and the fears he shared, right? “I don’t date musicians because they’re always gone.”

Harry was quiet, absorbing her answer. It was true, they always were gone—she had every right to her rule, she told herself. She didn’t want a repeat of what her parents had experienced, what she’d experienced. Her dad’s job had ruined everything in their family, ripping her parents apart, keeping him away from her for more of the year than he was home. She didn’t want the same thing for her kids. “That’s a pretty broad stroke, isn’t it?” Harry said though, pushing back against her. “Like all musicians. Kinda a generalization ‘bout us.”

“You said it yourself,” she said, leaning forward in her chair and resting her elbows on her thighs. “You’re gone all the time. How do you build a life with someone who isn’t there half the time?”

“Devil’s advocate,” Harry said, setting his wine on the arm of his chair, “but hypothetically you’re dating someone who tours all the time. But they make you a priority, coming home and seeing you, putting your relationship first. That wouldn’t matter? You wouldn’t even take the chance that it could work out okay?”

This time it was Y/N who was quiet. “I mean, musicians only have so much control over their schedules,” she said, remembering the excuses her dad used to tell her. “Plus, it’s not the relationship that’s the problem. It’s the part when you get to marriage and kids.”

“…So it’s better to just avoid the whole thing entirely?”

Y/N nodded, her logic laid out in front of her. She’d never had to do this before—most times, guys just took her at her word and dropped it all together. Harry pushed though, wanting to understand in a way the others didn’t care enough to do. “It’s safer.”

“But then you miss out on the opportunity to fall in love with someone,” Harry says, his words like rocks in her stomach. “And what if that person was a musician?”

Y/N had a feeling they were no longer talking in hypotheticals. “We can fall in love with tons of different people.”

“No soulmates and shit for you, then?” She shook her head. She didn’t believe in all that crap, never had. Relationships were about work, effort, time. The person was important, but the life that person led mattered more to her. How much they’d prioritize the relationship, the kind of life they wanted to build. “That’s kind of depressing,” Harry said.

The fire crackled and popped. “I don’t think so. It’s…practical.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be practical, Y/N.”

Y/N found herself speechless. She didn’t have an answer for him. She’d never been in love before, that was for sure. Hadn’t found that kind of love that people like Harry write songs about and she’d often found herself wondering when it was going to happen for her. There just hadn’t been any guys that were right for her yet.

“Y/N! Harry!” She turned and her dad was in the doorway, pasta sauce splattered on his shirt. He’d always been a messy cook. “Dinner’s ready.”

Y/N took one last look at Harry before grabbing her wine and heading inside, Harry following at her heels.

After dinner, Harry decided this was his last chance at Y/N. He couldn’t exactly use the same excuse twice and after understanding her rule, he was determined to be the exception. He helped Y/N clear the plates while her dad settled in at the TV in the other room, telling them it was his time to watch the nightly news and they could clean up since he had cooked. Harry had missed being in a home like this, the kind where he got told to clean up from dinner and there was calm and normal conversation at the table, Y/N talking about her day at work and Harry sharing about his activities from his mum’s visit. It brought him a kind of peace he didn’t know he needed.

The plate clattered on the counter as he set it down, Y/N turning, her hands soapy with the water from the dishes. “Gonna break our dishes,” she said with a snort. “Be careful, please.”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. He’d cleared the table, so he grabbed a dish rag from the peg and joined Y/N at the sink, taking the clean dishes from the rack and drying them, stacking them on the counter since he didn’t know where they belonged in the cabinets.

They worked in silence, the only sound her dad’s TV from the other room. He could hear Rachel Maddow’s show on NBC, the same one he liked to watch, learning from her commentary on American politics that he was still trying to wrap his brain around.

“Y/N,” he said when they’d finished the dishes. “I promise I heard everything you said earlier.” She looked at him with curiosity in her eyes, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Harry tried to pick his words delicately, wanting to make sure she knew he did hear her, he was just entranced by her and couldn’t give her up. “But what is the likelihood you would be willing to give it a shot? With me?”

She took the dish towel from his hands and dried her own, considering his words. The waiting was killing him, but he didn’t want to rush her. He knew what her worries were and he was asking her to put them aside.

“We’ll take it slow,” he told her, stumbling over the words. “Promise. You set the pace, you decide about commitments. I just…” Can’t stop thinking about you.

But then Y/N surprised him by saying, “I know. I feel that way too.” His eyes widened, not believing the words from her mouth. “I’ll give it a shot,” she said slowly. “Better make the date good.”

“You sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask again unless you’d like me to change my mind.”

“Can I get your number then?” She nodded and read it off, Harry typing the numbers into his phone next to her name. Then Harry shut up and just smiled at her, following her like a puppy dog into the other room where her dad sat watching TV. She curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket her dad had so it would cover part of her and his heart softened at how sweet she looked. He loved seeing her like this, at home, comfortable in her space. “I’m going to head out,” he said. “Thank you so much for dinner, Peter.”

Y/N’s dad turned from the TV and gave him a wide smile. “Of course, Harry. You’re welcome anytime—wouldn’t want you to get lonely out here!”

His eyes drifted to Y/N and he knew that with her around, there was never anyway he could be lonely.

TAGLIST

@smokeinherperfume @afire-hes @harryinsweatersandbandanas @marinalima3 @havethetimeofyourstyles @ursogoldenshan @inmygardensuit @marinalima3 @amaridon @harrys-watermelons @dontgiveupthedayjob @cronias13 @apples2019

Would you like to know when I update The Only Exception? Let me know here!

NEXT CHAPTER COMING JULY 4TH @ NOON CST

#Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #1dff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #mine

569 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 35

💖first time reader click here💖

Reader and Eddie going on their mission. They're all morons, okay? Some canon-typical violence, bad guys being bad guys. You guys can see that I treat the fighting plot points as total crack, right?

Eddie Brock was pissed, at the Avengers mostly - for not telling him of my accident - but also at me, for the fact that I didn't call him sooner. Venom had taken over at some point, eager to participate in my plan - and it I was being honest, my uncle's space boo was the one I had relied on to participate in the mayhem that was to be caused to finally let my family breathe in peace.

The Avengers wore various expressions of guilt when an angry Eddie stormed the tower, berating them for not getting into contact with him when I was in danger. Venom growled at them, too, just the right amount of teeth and drool for Tony to quickly usher me out to 'take a walk, have some fun, build a snowman' with uncle Eddie and Venom. It was almost too easy, too predictable. The guilt that reared it's ugly head was stomped down by me and two glasses of whiskey in Eddie's rented Airbnb as I went into the fine details of my plan.

Both I and Eddie were equally surprised when Venom dropped their sarcastic, angsty teenager attitude and approached the topic with maturity, giving valuable input. The goth space goo was much, much smarter than their first impressions showed. I belatedly remembered their remark about being an apex predator species... Scary.

The plan was pretty simple.

Eddie was a professional investigative reporter and an unregistered mutant, his files being hidden so deeply due to the alien nature of the symbiote that it was unlikely that underground gangs would have any idea as to who he truly was. His involvement with SHIELD was buried under so much red tape, even Coulson himself had very little idea about Eddie's body-mate.

My uncle would sniff around the mutant underworld, just enough to catch a whiff of the mercenary's whereabouts. It should be enough if he was as famous as Natasha claimed him to be. And if it wasn't enough... I'd be bait. I doubt that the merc knew the box has been retrieved and secured; every now and then, I still caught chatter about the SHIELD agents trailing me catching a person sent to monitor me. They weren't even trying to hide that hard.

I had my suspicions SHIELD was indirectly using me as bait, too, and both Eddie and Venom were inclined to agree with the notion. Over beers and ridiculous amount of chocolate cake, a third side of the operation Baby Thief had been formed. SHIELD played their own game, the Avengers and SI threw a ridiculous amount of resources on their own and then there was me and Eddie, two halves of a whole idiot.

For once, the plan didn't go south immediately off the bat. Eddie and Venom got the information - there was a lot of uproar in the mutant community, rumours about an artifact that would let them assume their rightful place in the world, pushing the pesky humans off their pedestal. I definitely supported mutant rights - but the common notion that violence was necessary to achieve the recognition of said rights didn't sit well with me at all. Eddie agreed with me, his own curiousity pushing him to dig deeper into the situation.

My uncle could be a brilliant investigative reporter with the proper motivation and his significant other at the side. I could never tire of Venom's stories: each and every time they saved Eddie from making a clown out of himself was remembered, documented and brought up at the quickest available opportunity. I haven't laughed so hard in months.

The positives of our plan? We got a hot trail and enough information to know about the mercenary's whereabouts. We possessed the manpower needed to off him in record time, Venom eagerly offering his digestive system for our convenience.

The negatives? We'd need to bring me. Apparently there was a hefty bounty on my pretty little head and the merc himself had given up trying to chase me, hiring a bunch of muscle to do the legwork for him instead. The mercenary, a man who went by the nickname Cadre, was an ex-shield agent, who knew enough to successfully avoid the organisation following hot on his heels.

And neither SHIELD, nor Tony nor Eddie knew who had ordered the retrieval of the artifact. The mysterious person had deep pockets: all of the men were supplied with high grade weaponry and the mutants participating in the missions had equipment specifically tailored to their powers.

Perhaps, I wasn't as clever as I wanted myself to be. There was something big and ugly brewing and the bounty on my head was just the tip of the iceberg. But what was done, was done, and Venom was looking forward to a hefty meal and we set the date of Eddie "kidnapping" me in a few days time.

I hoped I'd make it home for Christmas.

The biggest surprise was that nobody suspected anything. Not even Natasha's watchful eye and inherent knowledge of shit about to be stirred - somehow, Nat always just knew those things - had revealed itself and that's how I knew it was absolutely necessary for me to be successful. There was no room for failure. In the day before my planned trip to Cadre's lair, I forced the team into a movie night and took extra time with everybody, seeing as even the most cheerful people - Thor and Wanda - walked around with sullen faces for most of the time. Perhaps, deep down, I knew that chances of my plan going awry were pretty damn high.

It felt like I was leaving for war. And perhaps, I was. The nervous, anxious energy increased as the hour X drew closer and I couldn't hide it anymore. My insomnia wore Tony's face: I could see his disappointment as clear as day, but I figured he'd forgive me for the betrayal eventually. Every single thing I hid from my newfound family made me feel a traitor. Unfortunately, there was simply no other option.

That afternoon, Eddie picked me up from the tower and drove me to one of the hideouts that belonged to Cabre. He'd tied my hands together and blindfolded me, all for show of course, whilst Venom briefly connected with my body to induce a drowsy state of mind. I didn't actually mind to be drugged and was way more wary of the symbiote's effects on my body but the space pudding extended his tentacles so quickly, I barely had the time to even swear at them.

To my (and their) surprise, it wasn't as bad as we thought it would be. In my hazy state, I briefly head Venom growl that I could be a decent short-term host if something would to happen with Eddie; I did not know how that information made me feel but did not disregard it completely. I was out of my depth on this one yet marched on towards the danger with grim determination.

"Here's the girl," Eddie's voice penetrated through the curtain of chemicals that Venom had dosed me with; I was tossed none too gently on what felt like a mattress, the landing haphazard but not painful. Venom must've dulled my pain receptors, too. "Where's our money?"

I was unceremoniously groped, my face examined by a man with ice-cold hands. Whatever he found, he deemed it satisfactory. "I'm impressed," He whistled. "We've been trying to get her for months. Care to share how you achieved this?" The strange man sounded suspicious.

"WE HAVE OUR OWN TRICKS," Venom's deep voice filled out the room like thick smoke and I just knew that the man who had been groping me was twitching in discomfort. "SO?"

"Alright, alright," The man mumbled, voice unsteady. My drowsiness slowly began to recede and I finally could focus my eyes somewhat; Eddie was partially obscured by the writhing, onyx mass of his symbiote and the man was dialing up the phone, speaking in a rapid-fire dialect I did not know. "Cabre will be here in an hour. Care for a beer?" Just like that, the man was obviously attempting to placate Eddie.

"HOT CHOCOLATE," Venom announced flatly and I had to struggle to hold back my laughter at the image of a seven feet tall tentacle monster sipping hot cocoa from a tiny porcelain cup. My nerves had me feeling ten types of way, as usual, and props to Ven making me unable to speak. I would have already killed myself by running my mouth ten times over.

The hour passed by with me floating in my mindsphere, Eddie loudly playing Candy Crush on his phone and Venom consuming ridiculous amounts of hot chocolate. It was absurd and the eerie calm was beginning to make me suspicious; I had expected... More. Threatening thugs with guns, experiments, blood tests and physical violence. Instead, the man who met with Eddie was sitting with a vacant, bored expression as he practiced card tricks in the corner furthest away from Venom.

Finally, a knock on the door forced all of us to pay attention to the newcomer. It was a tall, massively built man in his early forties. His face was covered in scars, narrow red lines that looked like small cuts; one of his eyes was completely black while the other was blue. He looked like the man at the coffee shop but at the same time, nothing like him at all.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," His voice was low and quiet. If not for the heavyweight weapon hanging over his shoulder, I would have considered him to be one of those men who only look threatening but actually are gentle giants. With steps too quiet for a man his size, he approached me, crouching down to look me in the face. "Hello, child. I've been looking for you for a long time. It's a shame we had to meet this way," He removed the strands of hair sticking to my face. For all purposes, his touch could have been considered fatherly. "Richard, bring the money." With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the man who was babysitting me and Eddie and he promptly disappeared behind the steel door.

"Hello," Eddie briefly shook his hands with Cabre after the merc left me alone. I noted Venom had disappeared into the reporter's body completely. "We are Venom," Eddie introduced himself (they introduced themselves?).

"Cabre," The Merc watched my honorary uncle with a sharp eye, taking note of Eddie's lack of weapons, his worn clothes and the shaggy hair, the bags under his eyes. "Tell me, Venom, what do you know of this child?"

"Not much," Eddie shrugged, convincingly. "Just that the Avengers picked her up for some reason and locked her up in Stark's tower. We're guessing she didn't like it much 'cuz she kept sneaking out and trying to shake off the tail. Had to go through quite a few SHIELD agents to get to her," Just like we agreed, Eddie spoke with slight disdain towards Tony and SHIELD, making sure to let Cabre believe he was on the mutants' side. "We just need the money, man. Not many people will hire us," To top it up, Eddie spread his arms, showing his skin ripple and move on it's own prominently under his ratty t-shirt. Atta boy!

Cabre appeared to have bought the lie, chuffing sympathetically, before pulling out a tablet and typing on it. "Well, not for long. My superiors have found an artifact that, if unlocked properly, will render most of the technology suppressing mutant powers useless. They won't be able to get rid of us that easily anymore."

Eddie nodded eagerly, for all purposes appearing to be ecstatic about the news. "Yeah, heard some rumors here and there. Well, you and your superiors know where to find me. I could always go with some extra cash," He scratched his head, carefully watching Cabre's fingers dance on the keyboard. "What's the kid got to do with it anyway? Seems like an ordinary spoiled brat to me," Eddie threw me a look, blinking twice. The fatigue and wariness, courtesy of Venom, had begun to recede quite some time ago; with Eddie's signal, I knew the shitshow was about to start very soon.

Eddie was smart, however, finding out the bits of information SHIELD hadn't bothered to disclose to me. The residue that the cursed box had left in me was removed, so I could not understand why SHIELD was still guarding me. There had to have been another reason, a reason that neither of us knew for sure.

Cabre paused his typing. "We've been watching her for years. She's a genius. We were hoping she could help us solve a few problems..." The merc paused to rub the bridge of his nose. "We tried to get her to come willingly but her parents forbade her from it. My superiors suggested to use the artifact but something malfunctioned." For all purposes, Cabre was looking apologetic. "I am not overly fond of kidnapping children but some things just need to be done." With that, the man turned around, landing his eyes on me. "Glad to see you're up and about." Something about his smile was unnatural, forced, malicious.

"Charmed to meet you," I sat up, dazed and confused about the turn of events. The things he was saying, they didn't add up. I hadn't received any requests for my participation in ANY kind of project, illlegal or not. No scholarships, no internship offers. Something was very, very wrong.

As soon as Cabre's back was turned, Venom enveloped Eddie, turning themselves into the seven feet tall outer space monstrosity I had seen on the first day. Their combined form was terrifying - but Cabre's fingers merely twitched at the rapid change of the situation as he took slow steps towards me. "Hmm," His voice still quiet, he once again crouched in front of me. "You fought us off once but we are many. There is nowhere to run, child," Cabre's eyes began to darken, his speech turning flat.

I recognized the speech pattern, recalled the expressionless, vacant face that stared at me. Cabre was infected with the Legion from the cursed box; I hadn't prepared for that, hadn't even regarded that, thinking the little epic speech the demon had given me was a mere intimidation tactic. Fear bloomed within me, opening it's jaws like a hungry Venus flytrap but I refused to succumb to it, clenching my fists against the waves of paralyzing terror.

Venom made a confused growling noise behind me, extending a tentacle to push Cabre away; with a sickeningly wet splat, their whole form collided with the opposite wall, sliding down it like a puddle of misshapen goop. "MORSEL, GET OUT." The symbiote growled, reforming itself back.

"Silence, beast!" Cabre shrieked, unstrapping his weapon and aiming it at Venom. No bullets came out as he pressed the trigger but my ear started ringing, eyes watering as the whole form of the symbiote began to morph and ripple. Pained groans and whines came from them. A sonic gun?

"Screw you, man," I attempted to draw Cabre's attention to myself by kicking out a leg towards the gun, disrupting his arm briefly. Things were going to shit faster than a party full of teenagers and alcohol. "Fuck you, listen, FUCK YOU!" I knew antagonizing people was my best skill and that's what I did, figuring the time needed for Venom to reassemble themself could be acquired if Cabre was pissed off enough at me.

The backhand hurt, not going to lie. I saw stars from that one sloppy hit the possessed merc delivered to my face. The adrenaline rush allowed me to stay somewhat coherent and just like that time when I was trapped in my nightmares, I dove for Cabre, winding myself around him as both of us landed on the floor in a heap of limbs.

Despite my best hopes, Venom remained a puddle of black on the floor. I saw something shiny attach itself to Eddie's chest; apparently that something prevented them from combining into one again. My smaller size proved to be a great advantage; I remembered Venom's words about being a suitable short-term host and with a shriek, I placed my palm into the nearest piece of symbiote I could reach, my vision being obscured by blackness a second later.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you

58 notes · View notes

twelvedy7 · 3 years ago

Text

Twisted - One shot

warning: sensitive topics (drugs).

I just wanted to write something a bit different. It might be a bit OCC but I thought it might be a great fit for the manga universe. This story won’t be published anywhere else than tumblr so feel free to save the story if you like it.

Oh and also english isn’t really my native language so sorry if there are incoherences.

Takano had no sense of self-control. From a very young age he has been a witness of the sheer harshness of his mother and the complete indifference of his father towards their family. Despite how much he tried to convince himself of his difference he inherited from most of their flaws, which filled him with anger every time he thought about it.

No wonder that whenever he met someone bright, kind, generous and appreciated he became more aware of his whole dark gloomy personality. That was the case with Ritsu he was still viewing today as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago.

No wonder that when he met this bright, kind and generous highschool kid he had become more aware of his dark gloomy personality. He was still viewing Ritsu as the 16 year-old teen he used to be a decade ago and yet he couldn’t understand for the life of him the reason why such a lovable person would waste their time with him rather than finding another likeable person that would be such a better companion than him.

If all the open rejections from the brunette could make him believe he hated him, he was at least smart enough to read between the lines and see what the other tried so hard to conceal under feigned anger and flustered reactions.

What seemed to be like a bitter-sweet genuine love story from two ignorant teenagers who lost each other from a foolish misunderstanding was driving him straight into madness. Ritsu was constantly on his mind, invading his thoughts at any time of the day, reminding him of the terrible person he was and how he will never be nowhere near enough for him. Even in the poorly credible reality where the younger one would actually build up the courage to admit his feelings, he knew that their relationship was sealed to failure.

One day Ritsu would mature and realise how incompatible they were and how idealistic they’ve been this whole time before leaving him to find another person that could offer him the support and love he needed. Maybe one day Ritsu would find the man of his dreams, different from senpai in every way, to finally live the blissful life he aspired to. That’s what broke his heart the most: they were not made for each other. No matter how hard he tried, it will never be enough because they were simply not meant to.

He imagined Ritsu’s soulmate to be fun, social, caring, communicative and considerate which would make him forget all the turmoil he went through for all this time. His parents might be so enchanted by their personality that the fact they weren’t An-Chan wouldn’t even bother them.

The truth is he was physically and emotionally drained. He couldn’t feel a thing if it wasn’t his love for Ritsu and sometimes he felt as if that was his last tie with sanity. There were times where he would shut down his emotions. When it became too difficult to confront their inevitable fate, he would put himself in a semi-automatic mode working up to 15 hours straight without paying attention to anything or anyone, only accomplishing what he ought to.

Over time, he came to accept that he wasn’t able to love anyone without causing them a great deal of pain and suffering. That’s why he decided to distance himself from the few people who actually cared about him in his life and managed to bring him some split meaningful moments of happiness. It was like a lightning bolt shaking him from side to side, making him surrender to the hope of one day being able to spend the rest of his life with Ritsu and recovering from his long-lost friendship with Yokozawa. He hurt them both and didn’t deserve to be part of their lives.

His phone vibrated. He broke off his thoughts to center his attention on the alias displaying on the screen: “Taisho” along with a message “I’m here.”

He stood up from the floor, came up to the entrance of his apartment and opened the door. A man of average-height in his mid-thirties was waiting for him. At first glance, he gave the impression of being a regular salary-man coming back home to his family after a long day of hard work. However, he came to discover that the man likely had a long history of debt behind him involving matters such as a costly divorce and low paychecks.

Not bothering to greet him, he pulled out 6,000 yen from his pocket and handed it to the fearful looking man who replaced the notes with a small transparent plastic bag containing a white powder.

“Same thing next week?” asked the anxious black-haired man, his light blue eyes too faithful to be a dealer squeezing behind his oval glasses.

“Yeah. See you.”

Without giving him a second glance, he double-locked the door and came back to his dimly lit living room that felt so lonely without Ritsu here. It would take some time, if not forever, to prevent this heavy load in his heart from manifesting every time he would find himself alone without the prospect of his first love joining him any time soon.

It still pained him… Nao came unannounced in the office earlier in the morning and asked Ritsu out for something that too likely looked like a date. A walk in the city center, a restaurant, and a nighttime exposure. That bastard.

The rare times he had managed to take Ritsu out for a date was by forcefully dragging him out of his apartment or bluntly lying by message playing the card of ‘emergency’. He remembered the dull ache he felt in the morning as he realised how easy it was for his “best-friend” to take him out to a full outing while he had to prepare a strategy days ahead just to drink a coffee together.

Opening the tiny bag in his hands, he chased away his dark thoughts and kneeled in front of his coffee table, pouring half of the powder out on its surface and realigned it in two fine lines with the help of an old credit card. He usually didn’t take such high doses in one shot, but tonight he knew that he needed it. The accumulated pain and overthinking were taking a toll on him. Rolling a paper, he brought it to his right nostril and sniffed the first line, ignoring the burning pain in his cavity before passing it to his left one and repeated the action.

A few seconds later he started feeling the tiny molecules flowing through his blood system, noticing the faster pace of his heart beat and the gradual relaxation of his muscles as the drug invaded his mind.

He closed his eyes.

As always, the thrill was exquisite. The far away sounds of ambient city noises echoed and at some point the only thing he could decipher in the absolute silence was his own breath. His body was soft and any psychological pain he felt instantly disappeared. It was as if someone had covered him with a warm fluffy blanket while stroking his hair with a gentle grasp, providing him an endless feeling of comfort and security he so desperately needed.

At that moment, everything stopped and all his troubles went away. Nothing mattered anymore. He was back being a young child pampered by a protective mother he never had with an unconditional sense of love. Pleasurable sensations coursed through his body from head to toes until his spirit went numb and he lost any notion of space and time.

He reached that moment of nothingness that he wished could last forever.

___

“Takano-san!”

...

“Takano-san!”

Who was it?

The voice seemed so far away he wasn’t even sure it was real.

“Masamune!” Why would someone try to break the silent darkness that was surrounding him?

For what seemed like hours, he felt himself trapped in-between the process of gaining and losing consciousness. He didn’t want to be drawn from his deep slumber yet.

He recognized some familiar voices in the background but it was hard to put a name on them as they seemed to continuously echo.

It took him several more minutes to realise that people were present and it shook him. He became hyper aware of his environment.

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a bunch of white blouses around him scampering around the room at a feverish speed.

His mind whirled. The world seemed to be going so fast but his brain was so slow.

His golden eyes blinked several times to adjust to the brightness of the room. In an instant he was blinded by the artificial light of the leds on the ceiling.

In the chaos of all the fast-paced strangers around him, he felt a delicate hand fondling with the hair on the short back of his neck and let out a soft tired moan escape his lips.

“Takano-san can you hear me?!”

He groggily stretched out his limbs while burying his head on the petite body frame behind him and looked up to see who was the kind stranger offering him such soft intentions.

Above him were two wide teary green eyes displaying a worried expression. Despite his blurry vision, he could recognize the refined and familiar traits of the man he loved. It looked surreal, having the both of them like this sharing such intimacy in a restless atmosphere.

Next to him was standing Yokozawa in his usual professional attire. He could only watch them through half-closed eyes all the while trying to figure out what they were doing in his apartment in the first place.

“He’s stable now. Overdoses happen regularly when cocaine and other powerful stimulants are added to the equation. That’s what producers do nowadays to boost the effects”. Said a firm feminine voice. He could see the lady in white gesturing around to her colleagues and immediately realised what just happened. She was staring at him, probably trying to jauge how awake her patient was.

“You were lucky Takano-san. This could have been much more serious.”

He saw his friend sitting next to Ritsu, his usual severe expression ruptured by the deep crease in his eyebrows.

“How did you find me?” asked the raven, his voice so weak he wasn’t sure the two others heard him.

The brunette brought his face closer to his ear, petting his forehead as he replied in a shaky shy voice: “Yokozawa-san found you like this…” he heard a sneeze. “The front door was unlocked and your phone was ringing without you answering it. You… You stopped breathing.”

He felt absolutely miserable.

Trying to shift his position to have a better view of his comrades, he caught the look of utter disappointment and guilt from his older friend. He probably thought that he was long done with this dark hazardous period of his life.

“I’m… I’m sorry... I didn’t want to…”

His battle to stay awake was getting harder and harder.

“It’s okay Masamune. Just rest for now.”

The nurse took a hold of his wrist and stuck the intravenous line with a patch.

“We’re going to transfer you to the clinic as you need to take several tests. You’re safe now but your body needs to recover.”

The hand that was playing with his hair resumed and he let his head fall back on his lap. This combined with the liquid in his body led him to a sleep without dreams.

___

When he woke up again, he found himself buried under the sheets of a hospital bed. It took him some time to become accustomed to the artificial lighting of the room. Gathering enough energy to finally keep his eyes open, he gazed at the clock at his right indicating 4:55AM.

The first thing he felt was an atrocious headache that hit him with a massive chest pain undertaking his whole body. He noticed the numerous wires connected to his skin accompanied with the steady regular bips of a machine.

He heard a light snore on his right. Shifting his head, he immediately saw the small fragile figure crawling up into a ball on the couch. A cheap blanket was covering him from toes to his neck. This sight made him feel so terribly selfish. As seconds went by he started getting back to a normal state of awareness despite a fizzy pang at the back of his skull.

With as much strength as he could gather he sprawled a hand towards him and rested it on the others’ laps. He stroked his thigh lightly with the help of his thumb and stared at his seemingly exhausted resting face. He felt so worthless. He knew he had hurt him badly in the past already and the only thing he could think of is that this was too much.

“I’m so sorry Ritsu…”.

After reuniting with his first love following the 10 years they had spent apart from one another he had started to believe in fate. Yet he had been too trustful, using it as a justification for every one of his impatient and inappropriate moves towards the younger one. Everything became painfully obvious. This whole thing they had was destructive and that was mainly his fault. It was time to finally respect the distance that Ritsu wanted and deserved. He could not go back to these college years pretending that nobody cared about him.

Now Ritsu would need him.

Still, they were nowhere near close from getting into a relationship. Too many mistakes had been made. It was crucial for both men to work on themselves first as jumping the steps one more time would only bring them unhappiness.

That day Takano swore he would stop pursuing Ritsu. He’s forever been broken and finally accepting to get help was a start towards a less twisted life.

“It’s okay Ritsu.”

One day they would be okay. They would get the life they both secretly wanted.

#sekaiichihatsukoi #Sekaiichi Hatsukoi #junjou romantica #Ritsu Onodera #Takano Masamune #yokozawa takafumi

9 notes · View notes

guiltysecretpasttime · 4 years ago

Text

Happenstance

(title edited)

Note: Heads up – this is end game Linumi with a side of Tokka. With very very slight Pema / Tenzin bashing. Zuko and Katara will feature as well but will not be Zutara (nothing against it though haha). This is def not proofread. This is also definitely not my usual so let’s see. 🤓

---

One-shot, Linumi (Lin / Bumi II), pre-LOK AU

__________

Air Temple Island was lit up tonight and the noise level was way beyond its usual.

A slender woman sat at one of the tables set up across the courtyard, clad in a gray and cream hanfu, hair piled up in a bun. While her attire allowed her to blend in among the other guests, the surly expression indicated that she clearly wanted to be somewhere else.

Someone commented to her earlier about the decorations and how exquisite they look; the couple getting married was tasteful in their choices. She simply stared back blankly without responding until the person excused themselves, getting embarrassed.

Ha. That would teach them.

The lady sniffed at the glass that one of tonight’s waiting staff placed at the table. Their dinner plates have been cleared (not that there was anything she found substantial enough of the dishes served to them).

She threw back the glass, an ugly grimace on her face.

As expected, the drinks were bad.

She groaned, leaning back in her seat. When they had planned this day, she envisioned it going differently. For starters, there would have been meat.

Something has to be said about old friends and loyalty. If it weren’t for that, she would not have deigned attending today’s festivities.

She snorted.

Yeah, right. Politics and majority of her adult life spent on civil service practically ensured her attendance.

Most of the attendees were hypocritical brown-nosers. A while back, they had been clamoring and clapping for the union of an airbender and an earthbender. Today, they all stood by and cheered for the same airbender and his young bride.

A clatter and a huff from her side told her that she was not the only one not enjoying dinner.

“I’m going to find my sister.” Her companion announced, pulling back her chair.

She could distinctly feel the emptiness of the other seat at the table. The ceremonies were over and even dinner was nearly over, but the seat remained empty.

“She was not supposed to be on duty today.” Was all she could respond to that. “There were other people who can easily take the job; she insisted leading today’s security team.”

The younger woman simply shrugged. “Of course.”

Toph Beifong could only close her unseeing eyes as Suyin went off to find her eldest, who they last saw briefing the officers on duty some time before the start of the wedding ceremony of the last airbender.

The scraping of the chair and a thunk signaled her to the presence of another person joining their table.

“The food is a bust and the drinks are a flop. Wanna leave before they start dragging people to the dance floor?” The man nudged her shoulder. “I’d have you know that I smuggled in high quality booze on the island; I have bottles that my sister did not confiscate.”

She wanted to ignore the man but the promise of alcohol got her attention. “What kind of booze are you talking about, Sokka?”

The Water Tribe man told her what he had brought over; it was enough to convince her.

“Let’s go.” And she allowed herself to be dragged away.

---

Suyin Beifong had gone down to the docks and back up to the welcoming arc. Yet, she has not found any trace of her sister. All of Lin’s colleagues had told her that she had already gotten to the main courtyard an hour or so ago.

She was about to go back and report to her mother that Lin was missing when she saw that the table was empty.

Great, even Mom has escaped.

Truth be told, Su did not really have to go this hard in searching for her sister. A few months ago, they had not even been on speaking terms (her fault, of course, she admitted to Lin years late).

---

When she opened the newspaper weeks ago and saw the wedding banns announcing Tenzin’s marriage to someone who was not her sister, Su took the first ride to Republic City and boarded the ferry to Air Temple Island…

And promptly punched the airbender on his large and crooked nose.

Before leaving, Su, in true Beifong fashion, let all her power and anger loose and managed to wreck a sizable section of the island.

As she went her merry way in Republic City, towards the familiar path to the Republic City Police Headquarters, with the intent to seek an audience with her sister (hoping against hope that the usually irate metalbender will not throw her out), she spotted her unsuspecting target.

A young (too young! She thought) woman clad in orange and yellow was browsing some produce in one of the market stalls.

Without even looking around and without even a moment of indecision, Su slid her foot on the ground, commanding an almost imperceptible piece of earth to jut out in the direction of the woman.

The next moments of chaos would forever be imprinted in Su’s memory.

The woman she knew from the photos as Pema tripped as she moved to the next stall. Su quickly flattened the earth to avoid detection.

Pema attempted to regain her balance and ended up grabbing the nearest thing she could – which was a chopping board from the fruit stall. This resulted in the fruit on it (sliced watermelons) being flung off and hitting the stall owner across the street. Unbeknownst to them, the two stall owners (both selling fruit) already had an on-going and long-standing dispute.

The flying fruit was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Chaos broke lose.

Fruits, vegetables, feathers and even animal blood started flying around.

Whistles and sirens permeated the air.

With a sense of schadenfreude, Su found herself paralyzed at the edge of the commotion, watching what she intended to be an inconvenience to an individual turn into a full-fledged market fight.

Before long, members of the Republic City Police Department started swarming the area and arrests were happening right and left.

“Little Suyin, is that you?”

Su stiffened, recognizing one of her mother’s captains approach her (Lin’s captain now, she supposed).

“Heeeeeeey, Captain Ryou.” It was all she could say with a smile too innocent to be believed.

“I don’t know why you’re back in Republic City but I have a strong feeling that you’re somewhat involved in this.” The metalbender shook his head.

Su froze her smile on her face.

“Can’t prove it though.” Captain Ryou gave instructions to his second-in-command before continuing the conversation with the youngest Beifong. “What brings you to Republic City?”

“Can you bring me to meet my sister – I mean – Chief Beifong?”

---

“Where is she?”

The door slid open revealing Chief Lin Beifong.

Su immediately stood up and quickly held up a hand to stop the older Beifong from talking. She offered her sincere apologies and she practically grovelled (grovelled! No Beifong has ever grovelled and here she was grovelling) at her sister. She even offered to participate in community service *and* shell out money to pay for damages and/or bail.

Lin looked stunned. It was apparent that it was not what she had expected of their first interaction since her sister was sent away to Gaoling.

To Su's surprise, Lin was quick to forgive. Then again, Lin always was the mature daughter of Toph Beifong (even more mature than she is). She was taken aback.

“But wait -there is something that you should know about what I did earlier today -.”

“I heard and I saw - I'll take you up on covering the damages of Air Temple Island. Tenzin was not pleased when he arrived at the station earlier to report you." Lin frowned. "Then we were both surprised to hear that his bride was in holding."

"Ah." This was Su's opening. "About that -."

"What on earth did you hit him on the face with?"

---

Earthbending.

Right. Kicking herself mentally, Su used seismic sense to look for her sister and quickly found her at the kitchen that the caterers had set up for the event.

Su was relieved to see Lin garbed in the form-fitting dress that she bought the other week specifically for the wedding (eat your heart out, Airhead).

“Finally found me, have you?” Lin lazily spoke, twirling a goblet of what could be that horrible wine being served earlier.

"Enjoying yourself?" Su thought it was a pity that Lin was all dressed up and there was no one to appreciate it.

A shrug. "No security breaches, no gate crashers - I'll say it was a job well-done for RCPD today."

Su rolled her eyes. "Well, of course, they practically hired the Chief of Police to provide security for their miserable wedding."

Another shrug.

“Oh come on.” Su petulantly pulled at Lin's arm, effectively sloshing the rest of her drink on the floor.

"Watch it!" Lin grumbled. "Is the party that good that you want me to share in their joy?"

"No, don't be daft. When was the last time did we have fun at a party that Tenzin threw?" Remembering that maybe her sister and the airbender actually had an engagement party in her absence, Su quickly added. "We are going to have our own beach party."

---

"We didn't do well, did we?"

"Excuse me?" The waterbender was startled from her passive people-watching, uninterested to join the festivities.

"This is the second wedding among our children that seemed to be under duress."

Katara did not deign to reply to the Fire Lord because she agreed.

"Izumi," Zuko nodded towards his daughter who was seated with other Fire Nation dignitaries and her husband, a Fire Nation nobleman who had a position in one of the older colonies. "At least seems to be getting along better with her husband."

Indeed, Katara noticed the difference in body language of the Crown Princess and her husband compared to how they were during their own wedding.

"Enough about my child -what about yours?" Zuko could not miss how stiff Tenzin was on the dance floor as he led his wife for their first dance.

Katara could only shake her head. "He has embarked on his own family life now - all I can do is support him."

They watched as Izumi laughed delicately while her husband whispered something in her ear and gently offered his hand before leading her to the dance floor.

Both of them sat in comfortable silence now when the waterbender's attention was caught by her brother leaving the head table from the other end.

"Are they going public tonight?" Zuko asked, surprise tainting his question as Sokka sat beside Toph and appearing to be wheedling her to stand up with him.

She sighed. "I don't know who they think they are fooling." When they were younger, she struggled to understand how her brother's mind works. Now that they were older, Katara simply gave up.

"Here's hoping they finally get their happy ending tonight." Was all she could say as Sokka was successful in prying Toph from being disapproving at her seat.

---

"I could have sworn there were more bottles of cactus juice." Sokka scratched his head when he got to their meeting place.

They parted ways when they left the reception. Toph had gone off in search for actual sustenance and had returned, clutching several pouches of jerky and fireflakes ("Where did you-?" "Don't ask. Can't tell you.")

"Meh." Toph tore open a packet of jerky, popping a piece into her mouth before grabbing one of the bottles and taking a swig out of it.

Sokka made himself comfortable at the stone bench that was situated at far from the courtyard, a slope semi-hidden by trees. Their seat provided them an excellent view of the bay and the shore below them.

There were well within the private area of the island where only family and close friends are allowed. Most guests probably did not know about the area itself.

…Which made it unusual for two individuals to be walking at the shore at this time.

Sokka struggled to identify them in the dark but snippets of conversation floated up to them.

"Lin -it's okay to be mad. This is the perfect time to let loose!"

"My daughters are down there, aren't they?" Toph's uncharacteristically whispered, holding Sokka's forearm.

Sokka swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yes, your daughters."

---

The older metalbender glared her sister, who sat down on a nearby rock.

Lin curled her bare feet on the sand, one hand holding her shoes and the other hand a bottle of the swill that airhead deemed to serve as wine.

It barely had alcohol in it.

Today was supposed to be her wedding.

But shit happens.

No one really knew the main reason of their falling out - except for her and Tenzin.

Good riddance.

She took another sip.

"Why are you forcing yourself with that? We got the good ones!"

Bumi and Kya arrived from beyond the greenery that hid the path to the beach.

Lin shot scowl at her sister looked as surprised as she did.

"I didn't invite them!"

Bumi guffawed. "No one invited us - we used to live here, you know."

He got a punch to his arm, care of his sister. "What he meant was we saw that the Beifongs had deserted their table and had correctly assumed that you would be here."

Here meant this short stretch of the shore which was inaccessible or unknown to most. Even acolytes who might have lived their entire life on the island were not aware how to get there. This became their go-to place when they were younger, a respite of sorts from their life. It seemed fitting now.

"Wouldn't you be missed?" Su accepted the bottle that Kya offered.

The waterbender snorted. "They're all enthralled by the program."

Lin tossed aside her empty bottle and Bumi handed her a newly opened bottle of cactus juice. "Fancy that."

---

"So that's where my drinks have gone!"

"Well, Snoozles, you probably did not hide them properly."

---

"Come on Lin, be petty! You get a free pass today!"

A cheer was heard from above, where the party was still on-going.

"Damn right you do."

Lin took another gulp. The more she drank, the more she felt relaxed.

The bickering of Bumi and Kya and Suyin goading her… It harkened to their childhood days.

The only one missing was, well, her best friend.

Ex-best friend.

Bumi tossed her a pack of fire flakes.

---

"So that's where you got the fire flakes!"

"I didn't steal it if that's what you think." A sniff. "I ordered boxes of it from Bumi; he did say they were docking at the Fire Nation before heading here."

---

"That's the spirit!"

"You're welcome!" Lin shouted to the bay. "You're welcome for planning all this," She waved vaguely around. "For the past months! This is the thanks I get for your instant wedding and reception!"

"What! No way." Kya's eyes widened. She thought her younger brother was full of it but this was beyond what she expected (and she had low expectations).

"What - why do you think that the color palette?"

"Tenzin said it's because Pema came from the Earth Kingdom…" Bumi said slowly.

Su snorted. "Earth Kingdom colors would not exactly match the Beifong family colors though. But they're quite close."

"The menu, of course, they had to scrap." Lin leaned on her sister as they had all now sat on the sand, facing the water.

"Mom was most disappointed at that; she took all the food tasting seriously."

"I told her we can still order our choices as a set menu one of these days."

"I heard Uncle Sokka griping about meat to Mom earlier as well." Kya added. "So, what else did they repurpose from your wedding plans?"

As if on cue, music was carried over to their spot.

Bumi saw Lin's lip twitch. "Your playlist, huh?"

Lin looked away, eyes glassy.

---

The military man knew what he needed to do. He usually worked on impulse and tonight was no different.

He got up, patted his hands on his pants to brush off the sand that had stuck to his sticky palms.

Bumi extended his hand to the still seated earthbender.

”May I have this dance?"

---

“What if the Chief of Police was never meant to be with the councilman?”

Toph remained silent. She sat straight, bare feet firmly on the ground, sensing with clarity how her eldest slowly stood up to accept the offer of the eldest of the previous Avatar.

What if indeed…

Had they all been blind blind?

Sokka was probably reading too much into the scene below them.

To her surprise, Lin and Bumi began to move in time with the music, more in sync with each other than they had ever been with anyone else. And that was saying something – both had been at the top of their respective classes in their academies. Both had passed team tactical tests with flying colors, where working flawlessly with their colleagues is imperative.

And yet…

“What if she was meant to be with the easily overlooked non-bender?” Sokka’s whisper was now much closer to her ear than it was earlier.

Toph's breath caught in her throat.

Was he still talking about her daughter and his nephew?

---

“I never knew Bumi was a dancer.”

“He isn’t.” Bumi’s sister confirmed. “He probably learned his fancy footwork from the military.”

“Lin always was graceful,” Su leaned forward, enthralled by the movements the pair did on the sand. “Grandma forced us to go to dance class."

---

“You know, Aunt Toph used to call Uncle Aang fancy dancer.”

“Excuse me?” Tenzin unwittingly echoed his mother’s words as he was caught unawares. He quickly faced the person who interrupted his solitude.

“There you are.” Izumi was leaning on the railing of the path that led to the shore. “Hiding out during your own wedding banquet?”

“I needed air.”

“You can create your own air.” The Crown Princess rolled her eyes. “Lin was right, you are an airhead.” She nodded to the group of four dancing, laughing and drinking by the bay.

The airbender let out a sound that was a cross between a snort and a scoff.

The two of them simply watched the group below, unmindful and unaware of their observers.

Izumi heard the man beside her gasp as Bumi suddenly dipped Lin and then lifted her up. “Don’t look like a kicked turtleduck. It's your wedding night. You made your bed and so you better lie in it." With that, she left the brooding groom.

With one last look at the group by the way, Tenzin soon followed, ready to plaster on a smile as he made his way back to the courtyard and guests.

---

Heaving in exertion of the dance, Lin found herself leaning forward, trying to catch her breath. “Where's Kya and Su?”

"They got bored. Maybe." Bumi noticed their sisters were nowhere to be found.

Before Lin could even respond, he let out a loud belch before excusing himself.

She laughed.

He reddened with embarrassment but quickly recovered. He scrambled to the pile of food that he and Kya had smuggled earlier.

Plopping beside him, sand disturbed, she took a drink and rummaged through the junk food (some of which she had vowed never to even touch, an influence of having a vegetarian partner for a long time).

She racked her memory as to the last time she felt this carefree and impulsive; she came up empty-handed.

Lin decided she liked the feeling.

---

"What do you have to lose, Lin Beifong?" He breathed against her lips.

"We don't do commitment well." As though that explained it all.

"You wore it well but he didn't. You would not need to worry about that with me - no strings attached."

That she could live with.

Sometimes things happen because they had to.

But maybe sometimes there was no reason why.

---

The next day had the makings of an auspicious beginning.

Tenzin felt he barely slept when Pema (his wife) began rousing.

Whenever the Fire Lord stays over, his father used to have meditation with him. The years had passed so did his father (and the Fire Lady). The children sought to continue traditions.

Each family would be represented during morning meditation. It just was their custom.

Tenzin thought this would be the best opportunity to introduce his wife to their family traditions.

Surely they'll remember that he would be bringing Pema over?

Apparently not.

When they reached the family pavilion, everyone was in place - Izumi beside her father and the two Beifong sisters.

The Beifong sisters who were bickering at this early hour.

“What are you doing here?” Su’s voice rang clean in the air, almost accusingly at her sister. Said sister simply shrugged.

“Hi Uncle Zuko.” Lin bowed before the Fire Lord.

“Ah, Lin, Suyin.” The old Fire Lord’s eyes twinkled happily. “Two Beifongs for the price of one.”

The older Beifong finally turned to her sister. “Mom told me.”

Su rolled eyes.

Izumi clicked her tongue. “Well, she tricked you both and just wanted to make sure that the House of Beifong is present this morning.”

Tenzin cleared his throat, diverting the attention to him. “Good morning.”

“Ah, the newly-weds.” Zuko remarked, inclining his head.

“I suppose you’re here because we can hardly expect Kya to be up.” Izumi observed.

“Same goes for Bumi.” Tenzin cannot help but quip, observing Lin’s reaction.

“Tenzin, we weren’t expecting you.” Zuko said not unkindly. “Specially for Pema to wake up this early. But it is appreciated. Let us begin.”

Tenzin’s mind wandered.

Pema was fidgeting beside him.

Had she always been fidgety during meditation?

At the opposite end, Lin looked calm and unbothered. He had supposed that she would be bothered by their presence but, she barely batted an eyelash.

And where was Bumi?

Maybe nothing happened…

He knew Lin would have taken the chance to sleep in if ever.

---

To Tenzin’s irritation, the first person they encountered upon reaching the dining area was his brother.

“I’m surprised you’re awake.” He bit out.

Bumi threw him an amused look as he placed a large platter on the long table. “Of course – were you expecting me to be hungover?” He smiled and greeted his sister-in-law.

“You cooked!” Pema exclaimed in astonishment.

Bumi blinked while other people started to filter into the room. “Someone had to help mom, and, no offense, I don’t fancy eating meatless grub.”

“I knew I liked you better.” Toph Beifong entered the room, punching Bumi’s arm, her hair all puffed up from being in bed. “Well done.” She yawned, walking towards the seat in front of her daughters.

Sokka lazily slid beside her, rubbing his eyes and pulling out the chair for Toph.

“Someone had a rough night.” Su snickered at the pair.

A smirk and a blush were exchanged.

“Did not.”

“Please, I sensed what you were up to.” Lin smirked at her mother. “Wanna bet?”

“No, thanks.” Toph ignored her daughter’s dare and reached over to get a cream bun.

Everyone started to dig in when Katara sat at the head of the table.

Bumi hesitated before sitting down at Lin’s other side.

Tenzin looked around the table to see if people noticed it.

No one was reacting.

Then again, he realized it was usually Bumi who picked up on undercurrents like that, being observant himself.

Well, Tenzin considered, Bumi, Toph and Lin.

He had fully expected either Bumi or Lin to give more credence to the night’s romp.

Neither seemed worse for wear though.

Unless…

He frowned.

Kya nudged him and whispered. “You’re a newly-wed, why do you look far too displeased?”

Tenzin then became a little bit more conscious and focused on his plate.

Pema was no help, who was simply quiet and seemingly in awe.

Belatedly, Tenzin remembered that this was the first meal that his wife would have with the entire extended family.

Just then, several acolytes entered the dining room, carrying trays of food.

Katara beckoned them over and asked them to place the food on the table. She turned to Tenzin and Pema almost apologetically.

“We didn’t expect you to be up and I had asked the acolytes to prepare food for you in bed.”

“That was thoughtful of you, Master Katara. Thank you.” Pema meekly responded, dipping her head in deference.

Something twisted in Tenzin’s chest.

It was not a well-kept secret that when Lin was over, they tend to eat breakfast in bed.

---

Tenzin felt everyone was waiting with bated breath.

Every time Pema would shake her head as her courses arrived – well, the airbender could only nod back.

They better try harder.

Tenzin did not know what else to do.

---

The first time was fun.

The second time was on a whim because why not?

The succeeding ones – they barely thought about it, making no more excuses other than that they enjoyed each other’s company.

They could live with this, they reckoned.

Two misfits, Bumi had said. Failures in the eyes of their parents.

Unfit to continue a legacy.

---

One night, Lin had opened up to him – to both of their incredulity.

It was painful to share but at the same time, there was something cathartic about having a non-judging listening ear.

It has been a long time since she had someone like that, Lin mused.

“You’re better off without him.”

The metalbender had looked up in wonder at that statement.

No one had ever told her that before. It was always in the vein of her deficiencies and how she did not measure up to expectations.

Surrounded by air acolytes and the White Lotus, their patriarchal stance and beliefs had woven its way into her previous relationship. Motherhood, apparently, was one of the few things that they see a woman’s way of self-actualizing. Never mind that the wife of the previously last airbender was a master healer and warrior in her own right.

“You’d think growing up under Mom’s parenting would disabuse him of those misconceptions.”

As much as he thought that his brother was spineless, Bumi would not dare disparage him in public. Blood is blood and truth be told, he would never know the pressures of being the last airbender (and the non-bender was forever thankful of that).

Family is family, just as Lin and Su fell into an easy kinship despite years of estrangement.

Nonetheless, the disgust he felt at his brother’s treatment of Lin was propelling him to head on to Air Temple Island to knock sense into him (albeit it would be too late). Lin managed to dissuade him stating that this was why she did not feel comfortable about sharing why it all ended.

“I know you don’t need protecting or saving.” Bumi scooted over the bed, tightening his arm around her. “But I want you to know that someone’s always got your back here.” He placed her palm on his chest (his heart, though he was not about to reveal that to her any time soon).

“I do want kids. I did. I probably still do.” It was a whisper. “I guess it wasn't meant to be.”

She held her knees to her chest.

Bumi moved closer, hugging her unmindful of the tears.

“Hey,” He gently tilted her chin up. “We can always be the cool uncle and aunt these brats have ever seen.”

Lin managed a weak laugh.

“After all, where else can they find an aunt who can rappel down a skyscraper without a safety net?”

---

He wondered.

When had it all changed to something more, something beyond friendship?

She certainly enjoyed his company, at least behind closed doors.

He let her be herself. And vice versa.

It wasn't meant to be a secret. He understood she was burned.

And so he let it be.

He admitted her one time that they were watching the dawn that he liked their arrangement - the thrill in hiding, of being caught.

He wondered if it was just the daredevil in him that sought this excitement in his life.

---

Slowly the press left her alone outside her capacity of being chief of police.

All focus was on the council and its youngest councilman.

She used to see his name on the papers and feel a stab of regret.

Then it dissolved into a twinge.

Then simply a phantom pulse of hurt.

Until it was nothing.

---

“You’re looking at the United Forces new liaison officer!”

It had taken a while but the powers that be had surmised that the overall situation has stabilized. No more pirates and, definitely (to his immense relief), no more cannibals.

“Seriously?” An arched eyebrow was the disbelieving response to his announcement.

He felt hurt but masked it with a grin. “Yes.”

“It wasn’t a jab at your capabilities.” Lin rolled her eyes. His façade did not fool her. Not one bit. “It’s just that – is this what you wanted?”

Bumi was taken aback. It has been a while since anyone cared to ask or know what he wanted.

“Yes, of course.” It was surprisingly sincere.

He didn’t mind that he would be staying put in Republic City for the time being.

He did not mind at all.

---

It has all hushed up.

The public relations guy that Lin hired at Bumi’s suggestion was wonderful at his job.

One of Lin’s trusted staff at her home placed a call to the Bumi’s direct line.

Bumi’s heart caught in his throat and he hurried home to the Beifong manor.

“I'm good.” Lin did what she did best – downplay her injuries or illness.

Leave it to a Beifong to hire a private nurse and doctor to see to her after a fainting spell at work.

Bumi approved of this. None of that hospital stuff – Lin’s reputation as the Chief of Police would suffer and the criminal underbelly might see it as an opportunity to wreak havoc.

Seeking to lighten the air and shake off his concern, “You may be good now, but after I'm done with you I don’t know if you’ll still be good.” He waggled his eyebrows, hinting at a naughty past time.

“Oh, I’m all yours – be as bad as you want to be.” To his delight, Lin quipped back. “I’ll have you know though that that’s what got us into this predicament.”

His jaw slackened, he noticed Lin’s eyes shining.

Could it be?

He gently placed his shaking hands on Lin’s still flat abdomen. He gazed at Lin’s face, a question unspoken.

She nodded, placing her hand over his, smiling.

“I’m going to be a father!”

The man’s howl echoed throughout the manor.

---

Bumi was a superstitious man.

Having encountered various peoples and learned different cultures in travels through the course of his military career, he had picked up practices and folklore along the way. He was adamant that where necessary, they will practice them if only for the health and safety of mother and child.

For the most part, Lin let him do what he wished. She understood at some level the trepidation that the man felt regarding their impending parenthood.

However, after the boisterous man had frightened yet another one of her household staff as he crept into the manor in the wee hours of the morning, carrying yet another exotic fruit for her, Lin had invited him to stay in.

She leaned at her windowsill, enjoying the breeze.

Bumi was chatting with her gardener, a kind old man hired by Toph when she first had the manor constructed years ago.

He had readily assimilated into the life at the manor.

And she, meanwhile, was contented, oddly enough.

---

From Su

It’s your ex’s birthday (Lin looked heavenward at her sister’s juvenile terms) next week and I received this gaudy invitation for his party.

I’d expect you’d be going too? As a family friend, I mean, and don’t you dare use the police card.

Anyway, sending you this book – it’s a good read. It helped me understand Baatar a little bit more.

---

From Lin

I intended to attend in my professional capacity, of course.

But some snitch sent a letter to Aunt Katara to request that I should not be part of the security detail.

And, Su – what is this garbage? This is not going to help me in any way.

---

The Five Love Languages

---

From Su

Oh come on. I’m sure there is someone special in your life. And before you even accuse me of sending spies (not that I didn’t think about that), it’s how you’ve been writing back to me.

You’re less acerbic. And the point is – you have been writing back!

Sweet Agni, even Tenzin wasn’t able to induce you to respond to any of my letters.

---

From Lin

Su: Mind your own business.

---

Nonetheless, she read the book.

---

“Whoa there! What was that?” Everyone paused to pay attention to the blind earthbender who raised a hand, requesting silence. “Who else is there? How many are we in the room?” She volunteered a number to be confirmed.

Sokka counted each individual.

Toph Beifong was off by one count.

---

Katara eyed Tenzin and nodded towards Pema.

The airbender shook his head.

---

Lin gripped Bumi’s arm in alarm.

This was not how she wanted it to be revealed. Not here, not now, not yet.

Not on Tenzin’s birthday.

Toph quickly shot a look at her daughter, no doubt feeling the increased (and additional) heartbeats. Her eyes widened subtly.

Lin and Bumi held their breath.

“I might have been mistaken.” She raised her glass. “Tipsy, you know.”

“Yeah, dear that's likely it.” Sokka laughed. “You must be getting old.”

Bumi saw his mother look shrewdly at their joined hands.

Of course. Mothers knew best.

And mothers knew all.

He caught her eye and nodded – a promise to speak later.

---

Then came the toast.

Drinks were provided around to the guests, save for the birthday celebrant and the air acolytes who were given another set of drinks.

“To good health!”

“Cheers!”

“Lin, why aren’t you drinking?”

Lin froze.

They had not counted on their uncle.

“You never passed up the chance for wine.” Sokka was oblivious to Toph pinching his arm to stop talking. “Is there something wrong with the selection?” He was taking offense at it since he was the one who provided the libation for the celebration.

“Uncle…” Bumi attempted to intervene.

“You took after your mama here – the only time she stopped was when she was carrying you or Su.”

There was a palpable shift in the room when comprehension dawned on all the guests.

Bumi’s proprietary and protective posture beside Lin did not go unnoticed.

All eyes turned to the airbender who had slowly approached Lin.

Tenzin suddenly hugged her and slid down, kneeling in front of her, causing the metalbender to gasp.

He shook as he had his arms around Lin’s legs.

“Leave us.”

Pema’s stony countenance clearly expressed her displeasure at the request but left nonetheless.

Bumi looked like he wanted to argue but he recognized wordless plea on Lin's face.

His heart sank.

---

I’m sorry.

It’s all my fault.

I was too weak.

I’m sorry Lin.

You did not deserve all that.

Not at all.

I’m the one who was not enough – I’m the one who failed you.

---

I know that now, Tenzin.

I must go.

---

Bumi tossed a rock into the bay.

This was where it all started. How fitting.

On the night of his brother’s wedding.

And maybe, as his hearing picked up the unique steps of Lin, this was where it will end as well.

And on the night of his brother’s birthday.

He sighed. It was good while it lasted.

He supposed he would always be the Avatar’s screw-up son.

“I thought I'd find you here.”

Before he could even form the words to ask how soon he needed to move out, Lin’s lips were on his.

Well, maybe Sokka was right - the Chief of Police was meant for the non-bender.

What do you think? 🤔💭

#linumi #linumi fanfic #lin beifong #bumi ii #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina completed

34 notes · View notes

gophergal · 3 years ago

Text

HEY GOTTA 'NOTHER CHAPTER FOR YA. Thank you to @bucketofcowboys for betaing for me! Without his help, I would be pulling weird shakespeare lines outta my ass. He makes my shit sound smooth lol

I'm Not Lonely - Chapter Three

Word count:4 000+| Rating: M | Michael Myers x OC | M/F

WARNING: Gore, Animal Death

Jean must have fallen asleep at some point while reading to Michael, the book slipping from her hands into her lap. She jolted awake at the sudden weight on her legs, her heart pounding momentarily until her eyes fell on Michael's form, watching as his head tilted inquiringly to the side. He appeared as though he still sat where he had been the night before, still watching her as she slept.

It was strange, obviously, but she couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through her from the human companionship. She was tempted to physically shake the feeling away from her limbs and mind, but restraining herself. The knowledge of why she felt so comforted by him, a man she knew by first name alone and nothing else, filled her with a mixture of shame and annoyance, though she pushed that all to the back of her mind to simmer.

With a yawn, Jean stretched, feeling her back click into place after her poor sleeping position. She stood on stiff legs, feeling the sleep flee from her system as the blood circulated throughout her body. In the kitchen, after a quick bite of breakfast, Jean looked at Michael from the other side of the table, sipping on her coffee as she considered what she had planned for the day.

She'd need to get groceries- the fridge was becoming a bit empty now that she was cooking for two so frequently. That brought another thought to mind, that she really didn't know what Michael liked to eat. Part of her wanted to say, “Fuck it, I'm the one cooking and paying the bills, so what he likes doesn't really matter,” but at the same time she didn't feel like being so harsh.

After cleaning the dishes she and Michael had left in the sink, getting dressed in errand appropriate apparel, and yelling to Michael so he'd know she left, she got in her car and drove toward Haddonfield. The grocery store was relatively quiet today. There were times that it could be a true mad house; hoards of middle aged women being impatient with the young employees of the store while their husbands stood around bored, watching their wild hellions wreck havoc.

Jean shuddered at the image, glad to be in at a slow time as the young cashier greeted her with a smile. The normalcy of this shopping trip was sobering as she placed items into the cart, her mind working slowly to remind her of what was wrong with her current life situation. Unfortunately for that rational part of her mind, she simply continued to mark things off her grocery list. She reached for a pack of Dr Pepper cans, only to bump into an arm. She drew back quickly, pulled out of her muffled thoughts, and looked at the person she bumped into.

“Oh! I'm very sorry, m'am,” the tall woman- no, she was rather young, now that Jean got a look at her, she was simply taller than Jean, who was admittedly quite short. Her fluffy blonde locks swallowed her head as a single mass, the part framing her sharp features. She must be a high school student, Jean thought.

“It's fine, please go ahead. And 'Jean' is fine. I'm not married,” she chuckled, picking a bit at her shirt sleeve.

“Nice to mean you, Jean. I'm Laurie. I... don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new in town, by chance?” The girl asked.

“No, not really. I've lived in the area for my whole life, but I live a bit out of town. Laurie, you seem familiar though.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, I can't place where I've seen you though- Wait, were you one of the people attacked on Halloween night?” Jean asked with a gasp, then immediately wished she hadn't. Laurie looked away quickly, and seemed to struggle for words momentarily and appearing on the verge of tears. “I- I'm really sorry, Laurie. That must have been horrific. Did they ever.... catch the guy?”

“No. He's still on the loose. Sheriff Brackett said he'd do everything he could, but Annie- his daughter- my friend, she-” Laurie cut herself off, not needing to say more for Jean to connect the dots, her shoulder's trembling slightly with the effort to remain composed in this public environment.

“You're a very strong young woman, Laurie. Especially to still be out and about so soon after all of that. I'm sure he'll be caught, too. That type of bastard isn't usually free for long.”

“Thank you. It's been very hard, on everyone.”

“I can imagine.

“Y'know, it may be a weird thing to offer, but if you ever need some help, or someone to talk to, here's my number. I can't say I can truly understand your specific situation, but I've had my fair share of loss, too,” she said, producing a small piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down her home phone number, then handed it to Laurie.

Laurie accepted the paper, dabbing at her eyes slightly with her sweater sleeve, “Thank you, Jean. I might have to take you up on that some time.”

“Don't hesitate, I'd be happy to lend an ear,” Jean replied with a small, warm smile.

The women purchased their groceries and parted way. Talking to Laurie had caused the trip to take longer than intended and now the sun was creeping lower, the brightness slightly too intense to be comfortable. Jean got into her car, the paper bags of food on the passenger side, and she left. The intense, golden light highlighted the trees which were now barren of their leaves. That and the chilly air harbingers of the coming winter. Jean worried her mind with the thought that she would have to fix some of the roofing of her home before the wet snow came down and buried the world.

There would be time to do that, for now she had other things to think about, such as her new housemate. Despite, his impromptu move in almost two weeks prior, she still knew nothing about him aside from his name. She hadn't even seen his face before, she realized, causing a slight hum of anxiety to spread through her body. Something in her kept screaming at her to do something about it, but as she drove toward her home, that voice grew quiet.

There were no lights on when she arrived, and no sign of Michael as she put away the groceries. Aside from a couple empty food wrappers in the sink, which greatly irritated her, it was the same as before he first visited her. Perhaps he'd left for the night. She didn't know where he went when wasn't at her home, but frankly she wasn't his keeper and had no responsibility to keep track of him. He was a grown man, after all. She placed the case of soda on the counter and, with a yawn, piloted her weary body toward the stairs.

She instinctively skipped the creaky step, nearly losing her balance to fatigue. At the top of the stairs, she noticed that her bedroom door was slightly ajar, a sliver of moonlight beaming through the crack, a strange occurrence as her habit was to close the door at all times. She drew closer, cautious and uneasy now, and gently pushed open the door, supporting it with her body and praying that the squeaky hinge would remain silent.

The door now open, she could see a lump under the covers on her bed, poking out from the top a curly, dark mass. She let out a small gasp of breath when she noticed the white, fleshy sheet on her nightstand. Michael's mask. This was Michael who'd stolen her bed. Even at rest, there was a tension to him, eyebrows contorted and face twisted into a slight grimace. Yet, she noticed her hand drawing closer to his hair as if it were magnetic. She pulled her traitorous appendage back, foiling it's mission to tenderly push back a brown lock from his forehead.

A slight glint of reflected light caught her attention, her eye sweeping over the sleeping form to see the metal blade of a kitchen knife in his hand. He had a white-knuckle grip on it that did not waver with the haze of sleep. It chilled her. She began backing away, unwilling to take back her bed that night and unsure if she would even be able to sleep. Still, as she stepped gingerly out of the room, the couch called to her downstairs.

The next few days were uneventful. She worked, she came home, sometimes she had to take the couch. Michael didn't seem to leave at all, yet he seemed out of place in the house, having nothing change around him. Tonight would be her last night of work for the week and she was excited to have some time to rest on her day off. She sat across from Michael at the kitchen table, taking occasional glances at his masked face, imagining the man beneath. He sat like a wax figure, unmoving and unphased.

“I have to work again tonight, I can't really tell you what to do, but I'd appreciate you locking the door if you go somewhere,” she told him. While she awaited his lack of response she wondered what he even did while she was away, though she ultimately decided that ignorance was preferable to knowing something she'd regret. Besides, she had things to do before she left for work that evening. The sun was low in the sky as she put on her dusty pink uniform dress and black flats.

Michael watched her leave the house from his spot in the kitchen, waiting for the security of an empty house. Once the coast was clear he ripped the mask from his face, the latex of it clinging to his greasy brown locks in his haste to eat. He grimaced at the tugging sensation, placing his second face on the table next to him. As food was shoveled into his mouth messily like a child, he decided on what he'd do that day. It seemed a good day to snoop through his host's home because, surprisingly, he hadn't already. If he thought about how different this was from any other time he'd stalked prey for too long, it would only confuse him. At the same time, he was reminded constantly by the Shape that it would all end soon, soon enough the pleasure of killing the woman would outweigh the benefit of keeping her alive.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, putting the plate into the sink rather carelessly with a clink. The house was rather uncluttered, with few items in the cupboards and cabinets. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as he could tell. Still, bland as it was, it was far more welcoming than the white walls and antiseptic smells of Smith's Grove. Of that place, those were all he could remember clearly, everything else was shrouded in a drugged haze, a curtain of accusation and rough hands holding him down when the doctor ordered. A few small moments of kindness from nurses and orderlies peeked through the curtains here and there, but even those paled in comparison to how Jean was. The Shape scoffed at the idea, reminding him that if she knew the evil that everyone else had, she too would end up as another barrier between him and freedom, and such barriers were meant to be torn down.

The stairs creaked as he climbed, and the photos on the wall watched him closely. Upon closer look he saw a woman, looking much like slightly older Jean, alongside a little girl and an old man. He pulled it off the wall for a closer look. Smiling faces, a happy family, though shaped differently than his own had been. The girl looked to be the same age he'd been on that night so many years ago. He tossed the frame onto the carpeted floor after the top step, not caring for what that last thought brought to mind.

On the upper floor, more pictures were on the walls and now he noticed how few actually showed the older woman. They formed a sort of jumbled timeline, the little girl growing taller until he recognized her as Jean at various ages. A few had only her, no sign of the old man or the woman, and he took one from the wall. She was dressed nicely, her back to the glowing sunrise, making her messy blonde hair appear as a fiery golden halo. He decided that he liked it and held onto it as he kept wandering though his host's home.

The Shape became restless at some point, it's voice growing more frantic and incomprehensible with the passing minutes. Michael was tired though, the thrill of the hunt would be dampened by his lack of sleep. The Shape grew louder, demanding blood, gracing his mind with sudden images of what he could do to satisfy it. He ground his teeth, fist clenching and un-clenching as he tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. He needed rest. The Shape could wait, surely. There would be more prey, more chances. The hardest night was over, and he was unlikely to be caught while he stayed with Jean. Frustrated, he relented, giving in to the grating presence of the Shape. He stomped downstairs, muscles growing tense with each heavy breath.

The diner was relatively quiet that night, only two men were at a booth in the front. A not-quite-elderly duo of middle-aged men with greying dark hair, one taller and mustached, the other weaselly in appearance. Jean hurried to the booth to take their order, “Hey, what can I get you two gentlemen tonight?”

“I'll take a tenderloin sandwich, slice o' apple pie, a black coffee,” said the mustached man.

“Cheesecake, black coffee,” the weaselly man said. With that, Jean nodded and smiled, leaving to take the order to Gus, tuning in to their conversation as she walked away.

“Eh, you know about that one bastard that's been on the loose since Halloween?” Asked the weaselly man.

“Yeah, of course I do. I watch the news. What about it?”

“I've heard that he's twenty bodies in now.”

“The police say that?”

“No, they wouldn't and you know it. I've heard it from a few buddies.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Haddonfield's never had so many suspicious deaths, bud. It's gotta be a bit more than a coinkydink that they'd ramp up after this guy starts killin'.” Jean brought the men their orders and they quieted down on the morbid talk for a bit. The weaselly man rubbed hands together excitedly as Jean set down his cheesecake. The tall man shook his head light heartedly.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the tall man said. Jean smiled, holding back the urge to roll her eyes at the unwanted pet name. She left to wipe down the other booth tables in the room.

“Anyway, I heard that the cops are broadening their search to the surrounding area,” said the weasel, “been some sightings of a masked man wearing a blue jumpsuit around some houses on the outskirts of town.” Jean found that the description was unsettlingly familiar.

“C'mon, that could just be some kid in a dime store mask and his dad's coveralls.”

“After halloween?”

“Yeah, y'know how kids are. Not sayin' its good, those kids might get themselves killed.”

“Isn't that what happened to that one highschool football player? Tramer, I think his name was.”

“Yeah, just like that. Police thought he was Michael Myers and he got run over. Well, on accident , of course,” The tall man said, putting air quotes around “accident” and then took a bite of his tenderloin sandwich.

“And what a damn shame it is. Poor kid had so much potential. Might as well add him to the body count.”

Jean stopped wiping the table she was standing at. She felt the blood rush from her face, her heart dropped into her stomach, and bile rose in her throat. It all was too much. Her head spun, making the connections, remaking the connections, denying the truth. Her knees felt weak.

“Woah, miss, you good? If all this murder talk is getting to you, we can stop. You look like you're about to pass out,” the mustached man asked her, voice laced with concern.

“I-” she started, swallowing hard, “I'm okay, I think my blood sugar's just low. I'll be back,” she finished, leaving quickly to go back to the kitchen where Jo and Gus chatted. Jean pushed past, throwing open the back door and pressing her back to the brick wall of the diner outside. She breathed hard, shaking hands gripping her skirt as her legs threatened to give beneath her.

Jo burst out a moment later, worried. She put her hands on Jean's shoulders, words coming out of her mouth, but not reaching Jean's ears. She shook Jo's hands off, reclaiming her composure. “I'm fine, Jo, I guess all that talk about the killer on the loose got to me,” she said. It wasn't quite a lie.

“Are you sure you'll be alright? You live alone and now I'm worried about you,” Jo asked.

“It's fine. I'm fine. I promise.”

“Okay, I'll drop it, but if you ever need anything, you know where I am.”

“I do,” Jean nodded. She wouldn't drag Jo into this. This was her own problem, and Jo might very well get hurt. She considered asking Gus to help her, he was a large guy, someone she could trust, and she was sure he would do anything to help if she asked. Then she reconsidered. She'd never be able to forgive herself if she got him hurt. No, she'd have to take care of this herself, somehow.

There was a creeping feeling on her back as the eerie twilight faded into blackness as she drove. There were no stars in the sky, yet the full moon cast it's silvery glow on the earth below, bathing the landscape in a strange dream-like contrast. It was slightly hypnotic, feeding her unease. Once she arrived at her home, she turned the knob on the front door, now aware of the lights left on in the house. She pushed open the door, breaching the barrier between her feeling of environmental disorientation and her nauseating awareness of the room before her.

A sharp scent of salt and copper was in the air, horrifically mixing with the familiar smells of the house, corrupting them in the dim light from upstairs. Before she could bring herself to flip the light switch, she surveyed the dark room, eyes falling on a dark, crumpled form at the bottom of the staircase. Pooling below it, a reflective, dark liquid that appeared black in the shadow of the heap.

She flipped the switch, eyes screwed shut. She finally found the courage to open her eyes, and regretted it. Tears pricked her eyes, a mixture of shock and disgust, as she looked at the crumpled canine body at the bottom of the stairs. The dog, once a charming golden brown, was now stained with the rust colored blood that had kept it alive. Gruesomely, its abdomen was torn open, broken ribs visible alongside the snaking internal organs.

A sound ripped itself from Jean's lips and she looked around the room. The first aid kit was strewn about on the coffee table, the couch soaked in red. Dried blood was tracked everywhere, shoe prints from the back door to the living room, dried droplets leading up the stairs, a smeared hand print on the wall. At the top of the stairs, her bedroom door was ajar. A horrible, sickening curiosity gripped her, guiding her around the discarded carcass and up the stairs.

Her heart pounded as she froze in front of the door, mind blank, her survival instincts screaming at her to run. Run far away. You are prey. You will die and then you will feed this horrible predator. She swallowed down these instincts somehow, and pushed open the door. Blood had been dripped from the threshold to her bed. Then she saw him. On her bed. Her clean, comfortable bed with the soft, white sheets. His filthy, blood-stained jumpsuit was touching her once clean, comfortable sheets. Her knees no longer quivered below her. Her prey-like instincts cowered away as something snapped within. She was fucking pissed.

“Michael, what the fuck are you doing in my goddamn bed?! My home?! My FUCKING SHEETS, you bastard!” She shook, no longer in fear- no, that ship had passed along with her pure white sheets- her hands shook with the desire to express her feelings violently.

Michael jumped up almost comically as though he'd been stabbed with a straight pin. He nearly fell, then fumbled for the white latex he treated as his face, then pulled it on. The knife he slept with had clattered to the floor in his struggle, and had been kicked under the bed. He whipped himself around to look at Jean, then stalked to her. Jean held her ground. He was a mere two steps from her, the difference in height and mass between them highlighted by the closeness.

“You've got three goddamn choices. First, you could kill me. Go ahead, I fucking dare you. Second, you could leave. Go somewhere, leave me the fuck alone. Or, you could stay here, follow my rules, have a steady supply of food and somewhere to sleep. Make your choice, Michael,” she growled, glaring into shadowed eyeholes of his mask.She bared her teeth, seething as he put a massive hand, covered in dried dog blood, around her neck. He did not squeeze, simply held it there firmly as he waited for the Shape's instruction.

The instruction to snap her neck did not come. The Shape remained silent. He had expected fear. That was common- expected even- in his prey. They would run, or try to fight back. Some tried to submit, begging him not to snuff out their lives. Anger though, that was reserved for the exceptionally stupid. Yet something was beginning to make itself clear, Jean was not stupid, exceptionally or otherwise. Rage continued to flare in her slate grey eyes as Michael released her neck, an alluring red stain coiled around it. He marveled at the mark as she turned away, stomping down the stairs away from him.

Watch that one, the Shape demanded. Michael agreed to the Shape's demand. He would definitely watch her. She had his attention now.

#michael myers #slasher x oc #slashers #michael myers x oc #gopher writes #I'm Not Lonely #it has been.... 4 months

11 notes · View notes

silver-starlight-99 · 3 years ago

Text

Monsters at Work: The Jokester Generation Part Three: Life on the Other Side

There are many parents who’d call their child a miracle. For Liam and Noelle Rae however, they’d come to use that term in a somewhat literal sense. On the night when Mary Susanna Rae came into the world, her introduction wasn’t without… complications. The newborn’s breathing was irregular, her lips and fingers were a chilling blue hue, and she came out gasping instead of crying. The girl was showing signs of respiratory distress, and for the first-time parents, they were in a state of panic fearing their little girl wouldn’t make it through the night. Thankfully, doctors were able to get the newborn to an incubator at lightning speed. And, within a few days, little Mary Rae was stable enough to be returned to her exhausted, but overjoyed parents. She’d need to return a few more times to the hospital, to ensure things were running smoothly. But otherwise, the Raes were cleared to bring their daughter home.

Besides that little scare, little Mary Rae had a rather average infancy, with parents more than eager to smother their daughter in love and as many gifts they could buy. While Liam’s job as an insurance agent didn’t mean the family was rolling in money, he was more than willing to splurge where he could on his little miracle. And, to be fair, the mountain of baby toys, clothes and food they’d received as gifts from friends and extended family members meant the new parents didn’t have to worry as much about supplies for the first couple of months. In spite of all this love and support, there was always a twinge of fear in their hearts, one that had never fully gone away since their daughter’s rocky introduction to the world. While the hospital check-ins were completed, and the two were assured that there should be no further problems with Mary, it’s hard not to shake the fear of something going wrong with their little girl, something spontaneous, something they couldn’t prepare for. For Noelle Rae, this would occasionally lead her to spend nights in her daughter's room, wanting to be sure she could jump in the second something seemed off with her baby’s breathing. But as long as they kept her close and cared for, their fears would slowly start to wane.

By the time Mary was two, the Raes’ worries were nearly dissipated. Which was good, because this high-energy little lady was more than enough to keep them busy without anxiety about her breathing. The toddler would insist on chasing every cat or dog that she came across in hopes of petting it. She’d sing and dance herself to exhaustion with zero prompting. She’d given her parents more than their share of heart attacks during games of hide-and-seek where she accidentally led them to believe she’d escaped the house. Childproof locks in the Rae household were a must. Thankfully, it appeared Mary also inherited her mother’s artistic drive. If someone needed to keep her in place, just put some paper and a box of crayons in front of her and she’d stay still for a solid hour, perfecting each of her masterpieces. Sure, there were nights where Mary would insist on sleeping in their room. But hey, what kid didn’t go through a phase where they were terrified of a monster hiding under the bed or in the closet? As long as Noelle and Liam were able to be there for their girl, there was nothing they couldn’t handle… right?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was an early Autumn morning when Liam Rae heard his wife’s cries. He rushed out of his room to find her frantically scrounging in a closet. According to Noelle, when she’d left to wake their daughter, she was nowhere to be seen. This wasn’t the first time little Mary had gotten up early to try and coax one of her parents into a game of hide-and-seek, so she wasn’t immediately worried. Of course, most games didn’t take over an hour with no sign of the toddler. Starting to worry, Noelle began calling out to Mary, then outright ordering her to come out of her hiding spot. With no daughter to be seen or heard, she began to check the closets and locked rooms, almost hopeful she’d accidentally forgot to lock a room and her baby was just snoring away somewhere. Soon, Liam joined in the search, with both parents entering a state of panic. By the time they’d turned their home inside out, no Mary in sight, and they triple-checked the front and back doors to ensure she couldn’t have gotten out of the house, they finally called the cops.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, a horrible, exhausting blur. Hours were spent in questioning with the police, along with calls out to every neighbor they knew, asking if any of them had seen their daughter that morning, or any suspicious people near the house. The police weren’t able to find any signs of forced entry. And upon re-examination with the parents, with the exception of a few missing blankets and toys, there was nothing that could be considered unusual about Mary’s room. It was as though the toddler had vanished into thin air. Leaving the Raes on the verge of a breakdown. After the initial interviews and investigations were completed, the parents were told it would take a few hours to finalize the missing-child report, leaving them to mull over the day’s events before the police could begin broadening their search. Despite the assurances and messages of support from their neighbors, it wasn’t enough to keep away the air of despair that followed the parents the rest of the day. After almost losing their little girl when she was born, they were facing a potential future where they may never see her again. And once again, there was nothing they could do. It gave Noelle flashbacks to Mary’s birth, the doctors rushing the newborn to get proper treatment. While the exhausted mother was in a state of delirium from the medications taken to help alleviate the pain, and confused terror as to why she couldn’t hold her daughter.

That following night was especially difficult for the couple, just trying to be there for each other as they cried themselves to sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So imagine the shock they felt when Mary popped out of her room the following morning, right the f*ck outta nowhere, asking for a snack. What started as shock shifted to jubilation as Noelle and Liam held their daughter tight, checking her over for injuries through tear-filled eyes. Mary herself seemed fine, with no noticeable scratches or scars, not even a tear in her pajamas. But it’s clear something has happened to her. Her hair is disheveled and in need of brushing. There’s a distinct smell on the toddler, but one her parents can’t discern. She’s missing a sock. And still, the parents can’t find the missing blanket and toys. None of this makes any sense. But in the moment, their miracle is alive and safe, and they’re more than happy to revel in this moment of peace.

“And yes sweetie, Daddy will get you some Cheerios, just let us have this.”

Things however got a bit more complicated when it came to explaining things to the police. The Raes thought the missing toys should’ve been enough to prove that something was in their home and took their daughter. But as the police repeatedly explained, there wasn’t enough evidence to send an APB on someone who, for all intents and purposes, appeared and disappeared out of thin air.

Of course, evidence or not, this event had some crazy ramifications for the people of this quiet neighborhood. There were many families with young children that were suddenly fearful that someone could come for their own, and they’d be powerless to stop them. A lot of households were investing in extra locks and security systems. A Neighborhood Watch was established, but all it really seemed to do was stir up further anxiety and paranoia within the adults. There were those who believed the Raes fabricated the whole kidnapping in a sick ploy for attention. There were petty people who were using the situation as a means to place suspicion on neighbors they didn’t like. A curfew was attempted, but that just made the teens in the area grow restless, many sneaking out in defiance and putting further stress on the parents. What seemed like a quiet, easy-going suburbia was slowly devolving into one of suspicion and anxiety, with everyone trying to find someone they can put the blame on. Things only got worse when one Gabriella Harlin, through a long line of accusations, was discovered to have been laundering money from her job to pay for her family's many extravagances.

Some families were driven to move out because of the harassment they were facing on a daily basis. Time and time again the police were called in to deal with reports of vandalism. Eventually, even the local news caught wind of the chaos and began to ask people for interviews, the Raes especially since they were the ones considered to be the start of the whole situation. It would be months before the chaos would eventually die down, but enough damage was done that after the dust settled, things on Langdale Avenue were never the same. No matter how bad things seemed outside their home, Noelle and Liam Rae were facing something far more distressing inside.

Despite what the police had chosen to believe, something happened to little Mary Rae, and her parents were left to try and comfort their child in the aftermath of whatever she'd been through. No longer was the toddler crawling into their bed whenever she was having a bad night, now her mom and dad were finding her curled up in her closet, eyes with a tinge of red as though she’d been crying. Before, Mary would do the occasional doodle of a strangely-colored creature, but now she exclusively drew monsters and weird mish-mashes of animals. And some of them were… rather disturbing; Mary being chased by a giant spider-crab (Waternoose.) A green beach ball thing with horns screaming in pain (basically 80% of her interactions with Mike.) A purple salamander being beaten with a bat (Randall.) And most distressingly, a blue and purple bear-like monster called Kitty is being choked to death by long purple arms (Randall as he was trying to kill Sully before Mike stepped in with that snowball.) How do they know the monster’s name is Kitty? Because that’s the name she’s been repeating for the last few weeks, always asking where they were? The Raes were quick to make the connection between this strange creature and the girl’s disappearance, but there’s still so much of the full picture they didn’t know.

So yeah, between trying to take care of their daughter and having their neighbors and the local news going nuts outside their home, Liam and Noelle had their hands full for a few months. There was a very serious consideration to move to a new city, even if it meant money would be tight. But one of the things that held them back on this decision, once again, was their daughter. Despite her new habits and her occasional bouts of moodiness, Mary always seemed the most comfortable in her room. Something about the familiarity always seemed to soothe the girl. And Liam and Noelle could tell that in this period of madness, this little room of calm was something their kid needed more than ever. So they agreed to wait things out, but also thought it best to let Mary have some playdates with some of her cousins outside of town, so they could all enjoy a few hours of calm away from the chaos.

Thankfully, things eventually died down. Sure, things were still strained between neighbors, but by then, everyone’s name had been dragged through the mud at some point. So everyone that was left was willing to let bygones be bygones, just to try and return to some level of normalcy. Little Mary had become a bit more introverted since her return, but with time and care from her family, she would soon regain her old chipper attitude, even if she’d become wary around new people. But hey, after everything she’d seen her neighbors put themselves through, the Raes weren’t surprised that their daughter wasn’t as trusting around unfamiliar adults.

In the end, everyone wanted to put this whole affair behind them, and the Raes were more than happy to do so. When asked, Liam and Noelle would usually be as vague as possible in regards to Mary’s disappearance and the explosive aftermath of their neighborhood. To be fair, with as little unbelievable evidence as there was, it wasn’t too hard for either of them to skim over the details. And as their daughter’s attitude began to improve, the Raes also did their best to put her distressing past behind them. Afterall, no matter how much they may have yearned for an answer, little Mary simply wasn’t able to explain, and in a few years, it was likely the whole terrible affair would become a faded memory in the child’s mind. But Liam, always the one to try and think ahead, decided to hold on to some of Mary’s stranger doodles, while he and Noelle usually disposed of the others. Who knows? Maybe once their daughter was old enough to form sentences, something in her old drawings would be enough to spark a memory of what truly happened. But that was no longer important. What was important was that their daughter, their miracle, was alive and safe. And this time, with God as their witness, she was going to have as normal and loving a life as Liam and Noelle Rae could possibly provide, weirdness be damned! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uh… hi

Ok, just a reminder, I was two when everything happened. So if you’re expecting a detailed account of my first time in Monstropolis, I’m probably not the person you want to hear from. Mike and Sully could probably do a better job at explaining how everything went down. But yeah, outside of a few nightmares, everything else just kinda turned into a blur for me. But what I do remember, after coming back home, was being sad. I love Kitty. I spent plenty of nights by my closet just wishing he’d come back, only to wake up without seeing him. It hurt.

And outside of that… I guess I was still causing trouble back then. Because my little disappearing act apparently caused the whole neighborhood to turn on itself. I know my parents and a lot of the older people there don’t want to talk about it, but come on; the local news was so desperate for a spicy story when they heard about people starting to throw dog sh*t at each other's doors, reporters were on us like a toddler to a stray piece of candy. I don’t remember much of it myself, but… you know that old Twilight Zone episode where the whole neighborhood goes batsh*t because they think one of them is an alien that’s messing with the power?

(Yeah, that's it!)

I like to think the whole affair was like that. I guess it makes me feel better about my part in everything. It’s easier to think things on Langdale Avenue went to sh*t because adults are a bunch of paranoid idiots, instead of blaming myself for getting lost in the first place. Maybe this is why mom and dad don’t like talking about it.

Anywho…

Ok, I told you I don’t remember much of what happened back then, right? Well, I definitely remember the day Sully came back.

I was about four and a half. It was a bit before I had to go to bed, so I was just playing with my toys. And suddenly, I heard my closet door creaking open. And who should pop out? James P. Sullivan himself. I remember giving him the biggest, tightest hug I could. And it felt so good to feel him hug me back. He pulled me through his side of the doorway, and I was a little surprised I wasn’t seeing the same scream floor I’d emerged from the first time. I didn’t really care about that at the moment, I was just happy to see Kitty again.

And… I guess that kind of became the new routine for us. Every other night when it was late, we’d just spend time with each other. It took some time for us to coordinate things to find a good time to meet. While time seems to pass at the same rate on both ends, I think my world’s a couple of hours behind that of the Monster world. But once we nailed down 11 O’clock as the best meeting time, me and Sully would hang out at least once a week. Sometimes I’d just show him some of my drawings, or just talk about whatever dumb thought came into my brain that day. Other times I’d bring in some toys from my room and we’d just play. Sully usually just went along with whatever I wanted to do, but he says he was fine with that.

Mike on the other hand, he was a bit harder to connect with at the start. We didn’t hang out as much as me and Sully, but when we did, it usually amounted to him showing off the stuff in his room. The door station was in his room after all. But that wound up being pretty fun too. I think it might’ve been here where my interest in baseball started. And let’s face it, Mike likes to put on a tough-guy attitude, but he’s a sweetheart deep down. There was this one night where I was having trouble sleeping, I don’t remember why, and he just sang me this lullaby he came up with on the spot.

youtube

And then, a little while later, Celia started popping by for our visits. The three of them decided to form a … I think the word for it is a throuple? Whatever the term, they were spending a lot more time together, so it makes sense that Sully would want us to officially meet. Things were kinda awkward at first; she might’ve known kids weren’t actually toxic, but it must’ve been weird either way to be so close to a human. But with Sully helping along with introductions, we wound up getting along pretty well. Mike even taught me how to braid her hair without, you know, accidentally choking her hair.

Since then, my nightly visits were becoming a regular part of my life, and one I looked forward to. They never lasted longer than about 10 minutes at a time, but I cherished them. Apparently since they had to steal the Scream cans to power the door station, they always had to conserve energy. Despite that, I couldn’t help but see these monsters as just another part of my family. Something that was getting progressively harder to explain as I was getting older. When a kid’s four or five, it isn’t too weird to hear them talk about strange beings as though they were real people; what kid didn’t have an imaginary friend phase? When you ask a kid to draw a picture of their family, you don’t really question the weirdly-colored creatures holding the little girl’s hand; she’s just being creative.

It’s when I got older that things started getting complicated.

By the time I was in… I think second grade? Yeah, by then I was catching on that I needed to start keeping things to myself. My parents were telling me, in the kindest way they could, that I was starting to get too old for imaginary friends. To be fair, I think a part of that was because I had gotten into 3 fights by then with other kids because they were telling me my monster family couldn’t be real. I’m not sure what got me to react so violently, and I don’t think that instinct ever went away. I just got better at hiding it around other people.

(...where was I going with this?)

(No I wasn’t!)

(No it wouldn’t! So f*ck off and let me tell my own d*mn story!)

<Alright, geez>

Ok, so, I was starting to act out, and I was finally catching on that others weren’t believing my monster story. Between all that stuff and what went down when I was 2, it was getting hard for a lot of the other parents to feel comfortable with me around their kids. The term “problem child” started getting thrown around, and that just made me more frustrated. Which made me more reliant on my time with Sully, which made me more frustrated that it just wasn’t safe for me to tell anyone the truth.

As I got older, it felt like I was seeing the Monster world less and less. Sully had big plans for his world, and they were taking up more and more of his time. By the time I was in fifth grade, we were meeting maybe once a month. It meant we had more time to talk, but it also felt like so much had to get crammed into the time we had. Me getting onto the baseball team. Mike and Celia tying the knot. Getting my first real friend. Sully meeting up with some kinda monster group for his plans to make Laugh power a thing. Saying goodbye before I spent my first summer away from home. Mike and Sully tying the knot, kinda. It was an unofficial ceremony where they just kinda shared vows and had a lot of cake from some fancy bakery. I actually got to attend that, since they were doing it in Mike’s room.

And… I’m not sure what else to say. Things pretty much kept on like that through high school, and even beyond that. Keeping this secret, it hasn’t been easy, But I can’t imagine a life without my family, all of it.

<… Uh, you’re kinda leaving out a lot of backstory stuff>

(I guess. But they’re not reading this to hear my entire life story)

(OKAY! That’s a little more than they need to know… I think. Who’s even reading this?)

(God, I gotta deal with enough people looking down on me back home. I don’t need a bunch of people online trying to dissect every little detail of my life. Are we done here?)

-Boo grinding her teeth in aggravation-

(…

Thanks Zowie. So… are we done here?)

<Yeah, I think we’ve done enough to leave ‘em hooked for the next chapter>

(And how much longer ‘till I actually get to be in this AU thing?)

<Uh, I don’t know. Silver says it might be another chapter of background stuff before we get things rolling with the real story. And then she still needs time to properly introduce Tylor>

…

(Oh God. Stay tuned folks, looks like it’s gonna be a while

Wait… I thought I was the protagonist of The Jokester Generation, who the f*ck is Tylor?)

#monsters at work #monsters inc #monsters at work: the jokester generation #au #fanfic #video #song #lengthy post #Youtube

7 notes · View notes