#if i turn wifi off i can reach it from the basement

[turbulentscrawl]

HELLOOO could we get ithaqua with a modern Reader too? :33

MWehehe

-Honestly, not the brightest idea for a modern S/O to try and get with his one. Modern social culture is very deep in the anti-toxicity (to the point that we circle back into it without realizing sometimes) and Ithaqua exhibits a lot of red-flag buzzwords. He’s the kind of person reddit would constantly tell you to divorce haha.

-He would be a bit torn over you, though. On one hand, you clearly lived emersed in “society” as a whole, which is what he was generally the most at odds with in life. (In a modern setting, Ithaqua would be an off-grid homesteader. He’s probably against having wifi at his home, even.) On the other hand…you’re a bit of an outcast in the survivor manor. He’s a little crazy, but not BLIND. He can see how people are nervous about you in the beginning, shun you and your magic box.

-He’s got no fucking clue what the magic box is either, but Ithaqua does not believe in magic, religion, or the paranormal. The people who dictate those things called his mother a witch, and himself a demon, and he knows in his heart that they were just two people living life in a way others didn’t like. Superstition is what got him dumped in the snow as a babe, so even if he’s confused as hell by your technology, he’s smart and reasonable enough to know it’s due to a lack of education on his part and not you being some otherworldly, incomprehensible thing.

-He’s likely drawn to you a bit from the above treatment you suffer. Maybe the others are more than willing to use you as bait, hesitant to rescue you, or fail to even explain to you how decoding works. Ithaqua will notice these things even in the middle of a hunt. He thinks you’re pitiful—until you’re not, and that makes you interesting. Ithaqua finds the remnants of whatever your modern-ness makes up your skills. Your phone tucked into a grassy corner, playing a recording of someone shuffling through a chest, maybe, and he picks it up curiously. And then, well, he has to return it to you. Unfortunately for you, he’s one of the faster hunters and this only delays him for a few seconds.

-Ithaqua starts to, frankly, bully you in matches. He’s less vicious with the damage done, and instead of chairing you off the bat, he takes a liking to carrying you around while he hunts your teammates. It doesn’t matter that you struggle free or self-heal sometimes, he can catch you again easily enough. He talks to you while he zips around after everyone, his usual giggles and sighs replaced with questions and commentary for you. You reach a point one day where you self-heal, but don’t bother running…and Ithaqua just grins like a shark and pats you on the head.

-Eventually he notices the others warming up to you better…and it makes him bitter. “They’re all hypocrites,” he tells you in a dark corner of the basement. “I treated you like everyone else from the start, didn’t I?” That’s his argument to endear himself to you. To coil you further around his (admittedly gentle, all things considered) finger. Yes, he hit you, hunted you, but that’s his job. The POINT, he says, is that he likes you and it’s not FAKE because he’s always seen you as an equal to the others. (To the survivors, not to himself, because the manor roles say you’re clearly not.)

-The POINT is that you shouldn’t fully trust the rest of them—they’ll turn on you again if they get spooked—but him? Ithaqua doesn’t get spooked. He gets…possessive. He likes you. He’ll be here, if you need him. And even if you don’t. He’ll take care of your troubles for you, sweet pet.

[jordanstrophe]

Walter, you should punish Cin for using the phone. And maybe Gabriel, too, he’s been a bit too defiant.

I'll have you know Gabriel has been behaving slightly better recently!

Masterlist CW: Creepy parental whumper, punishment, isolation whump, shackled and chained, multiple whumpees, defiance 

The phone got torn off the wall and thrown into the trash outside. Walter returned slamming the door behind him as he crossed his arms at the two guilt-ridden boys sitting on the couch in shame.

"Gabriel, room." Walter snapped, pointing to his bedroom. "What? What did I do!?" Gabriel yelled. "You didn't do what I told you the first time! Now don't you make the same mistake here, young man..." He hissed. Gabriel huffed and collected the chain attached to his leg, carrying it with him so it didn’t get caught. He glared at the man before slamming his door shut.

"And now you." Walter looked down at the last boy on the couch. "It should have gone without saying that the phone was off limits, you knew better."

"But Mister Walter, how am I supposed to make calls now that you've thrown the phone out? Mister Richard says to always keep a phone around in case of emergencies." He recited in Richard’s tone. “CIN! You're not supposed to make phone calls!" He shouted, dragging a hand down his face. "That’s it... Come with me." He reached his hand out as Cin happily latched onto it, obliviously knowing he was being led to the basement. Walter plopped him down in an old antique chair and pointed a finger an inch from his nose.

"You're staying down here until I can trust you again. Do you understand?" Walter snapped.

"Perfectly clear!" Cin chirped.

"No! No happy tune, this is a punishment."

"Oh! Right..." Cin slumped sadly in the chair with an exaggerated frown. Walter shook his head before taking his leave and locked the door. Later at dinner, Gabriel was silent. He stared at the empty seat next to him, knowing full well where the other boy had been sent.

“Can I go back to my room?” He asked.

“No, finish your dinner.” Walter spoke, stuffing in another bite.

“He’s going to starve if you don’t feed him.” Gabriel quietly murmured. He flinched when the man violently slammed his spoon into the plate. ”Well you fed me dinner when I was down there, remember!? Why did I get dinner and he doesn’t!” Gabriel snapped.

Walter clenched his fists, weakly thumping it on the table as he gritted his teeth.

“Gabriel… My precious little dove… You were also there for a week.” He growled.

“Of course I do… But are you really going to keep him there for a week?”

Walter inhaled deeply, the spoon almost bending in his grasp. It took every fiber of his being to not punish Gabriel for his challenge.

“You’re picking favorites…” Gabriel muttered, taking another bite.

“OKAY! Okay fine, I will bring him a bowl! For goodness sake.” Walter rasped, the second his back turned a sinister grin crept across the boy’s face. Walter grumbled and groaned to himself as he fixed a plate and climbed down the stairs. He almost dropped the bowl when he reached the last step-

The entire basement was turned into a fort. Random chairs held up a carpet tent and shredded wood chips used as a pathway.

“What on earth-?!” Walter gasped, seeing Cin poke his head from under the carpet.

“Oh! Mister Walter! Perfect timing, would you like to come in?” He smiled welcomingly. Walter’s eye twitched, the bowl crackling in his grasp.

How? How did he even do this?

WHY did he do this?!  

@digitalart-dwa @mazeish  @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry  @kixngiggles @as-a-matter-of-whump  @five-fictions-5-9 @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @thelazywitchphotographer  @sophierose002 @cowboy-anon @princessofonward  @lonesome–hunter @yet-another-heathen @mylifeisonthebookshelf @whump-cravings @milk-carton-whump  @happy-whumper  @unicornscotty  @flower-whump  @grizzlie70

[whumblr]

Day off

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1 - Continued from Part 16.5

Tagging: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @burtlederp​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​ @hurtmebeautifully​ @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @barbed--wire @susiequaz12 @mnmlover2002 @undertheburrow @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpinggoodtime

-

Jay woke up to the soft morning light shining through his curtains. Soft twittering of birds. The far-off sounds of the morning bustle. Light on his face. Warm and soft bed.

God. He would never take that sunlight, those birds, for granted again. Maybe he was overreacting but just a few days spent underground in a cold basement made him realise how things could’ve been different. His situation was still shit, but could’ve been a whole lot shitter.

He peeked out from under the duvet. The alarm clock informed him it was 9 am. His team would now gather to plan for the day and the upcoming week. Without him. Amazing feeling. Jay turned over and nestled in the warmth. He was so glad he took the day off. Nothing would stop him from getting a few, or a lot, extra hours of sleep.

“Jay, you naughty boy, you didn’t tell me you took a day off.”

At the sound of the voice Jay flew up and turned over. He immediately winced in pain. Zayne stood in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame.

“That’s nice though, we can spend another day together.” Zayne drew closer, radiating menace.

“No, wait, please. I can’t go to work like this, please! Let me have a day to rest.” Jay scooted back on his elbows against the headrest.

“I already went easy on you yesterday, giving you time to catch your breath. If I’d known you had another day, I wouldn’t have granted you that mercy. Let’s make it up. Now.”

“Having me rip my arms off is a mercy?!”

“Don’t exaggerate. I’d say anything that doesn’t make you bleed or break your bones is a mercy.”

He suddenly lunged forward and snagged a pillow away from Jay. Before Jay realised what was happening, Zayne was on top of him pressing the pillow to his face.

“Some might say this is a mercy as well. Shall I give it to you?”

A muffled scream, “nO!” rose up from under the pillow. Jay trashed and kicked, legs trapped under Zayne and under the duvet. Hands found Zayne’s arms which were straining under Jay’s struggles. Fingernails scratched uselessly against the leather jacket, doing absolutely nothing to get Zayne off.

He couldn’t breathe! Couldn’t scream! The last air in his lungs wasted on a weak “Get off!” that was lost in the pillow, as he didn’t have enough energy to shout louder.

Zayne leaned more of his weight onto the pillow.

No… No! Get off! Get…off. His fingers untangled from Zayne’s jacket. Hand falling back onto the sheets with a soft thud. Only then, the pillow was removed.

Zayne trailed a finger along the cuts on Jay’s heaving chest.

“These are nice,” he murmured. Fingers were replaced by a palm, leaning down on the bruises as Zayne pushed himself up, off of Jay.

“Go on, get up. Get dressed.” Zayne said and walked off to the living room. “Brush your teeth,” he said over his shoulder. “I don’t want you screaming your morning breath in my face.”

Sounds of the morning news reached Jay’s ears. Fucker was making himself at home while Jay was still catching his breath. Jay scooted to the edge of the bed, leaning over hands on his face, before he got up. He noticed blood stains on the sheets. Some of the cuts on his arms had reopened in the scuffle. Fuck. The idea that he also had to change the sheets with his body sore and hurting (and with no rest on the schedule) only made his mood sour further.

In the bathroom one glance in the mirror gave a distressing view of his body. His chest, torso and arms littered with bruises and cuts accumulated over the weekend. Some now bleeding again. He quietly set a mental reminder to wear a t-shirt to bed tonight. Waking up and starting the day like this was way too depressing. Also, he doubted Zayne would visit again in the morning but a bit of privacy next time would be nice.

He joined Zayne and crossed the living room to the kitchen to fix a quick bite to eat. Caught a little something of the news before Zayne turned the TV off. Breaking news in Brighton? He’d have to check that later. If he still cared enough at the end of the day.

Zayne joined him at the table where Jay was grumpily munching on some toast. Usually this was Jay’s spot where he would groggily munch himself awake. Well, he was wide awake now. He protested weakly, mouth full, when Zayne snatched a piece of toast.

“Don’t eat too much,” Zayne warned, scraping out the last of Jay’s marmalade from the jar. “Then again, it’s your home to clean if you puke it all up later.”

One piece of toast would do.

“Weren’t you watching that?” Jay gestured his toast to the TV. “What happened in Brighton?”

“Nothing special,” Zayne said between bites. “Now get up and fetch me your belt.”

-

By the mid-afternoon, Jay was starting to wonder if it hadn’t been best if he’d gone to work after all.

He twitched and struggled, smearing his own blood over the polished wooden floor. Another thing to clean later. Zayne had aimed the belt mostly over his cuts and bruises.

“Don’t hold it in, Jay.”

He had to. Had kept his screaming to a minimum, knowing his down-stairs neighbour would be home during the day. A pillow to bite and scream into would be nice now. He didn’t dare ask for it.

“You know, something came to me yesterday. Seeing you all… emotional,” Zayne smirked, “like that.”

Jay’s eyes teared in pain.

“I think I should make you cry more often. Get you a bit more in touch with your emotions. It’s not good to keep it all bottled up. You might snap one day.”

Snap and end you. “So your end goal is self-preservation?”

Zayne laughed at that. “I doubt you’d dare to bare your teeth at me. I don’t think I need to remind you of our agreement?”

Stay in line or watch me kill everyone around you? As if he could forget.

“But if you do snap I think I can handle you. Even when you’re not in a sorry state like this.”

Jay, laying panting on his stomach on the floor, didn’t have a retort to that.

The doorbell rang, interrupting them.

“Someone here to help you?” Zayne asked warily.

“Yeah, my groceries delivery.”

Reassured by that, Zayne turned and walked off to open the door, ignoring Jay’s protest.

Snippets of a soft conversation carried to the living room, an ‘Oh, thanks,” from Zayne who walked back in carrying some bags a moment later.

Jay groaned. He had specifically made the order last Thursday to be delivered on Monday so he wouldn’t have to leave the house.

“Let me put those away for you,” Zayne said with an uncharacteristic gentle smile. “Seeing as you’re… incapacitated.”

He rummaged through the bag, taking out some cartons and vegetables until he found two small boxes of painkillers. Taking them out with a flourish, he gave them a little shake and slipped them into his jacket pocket.

“Will you stop nicking my pills, for fuck’s sake,” Jay groaned from the floor.

The rest of the groceries remained untouched.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Zayne said and stepped over Jay and the smears of blood around him. “Seeing as you still have some chores to do.”

Some blood to clean and to drag himself outside to get new painkillers. Nice.

The front door closed and Jay was left by himself to mourn the loss of his recovery day.

-

Continued here

[happy-whumper]

The Collab of Clueless Chaos - Chapter two

After a lot of struggle (and a lot of help from @whumpasaurus101 xD) i finally finished this chapter xD But i did have a lot of fun with it ngl~

Asher and Rodger belong to @whumpasaurus101

Lee's Masterlist / My Masterlist

First chapter

CW: Cursing (Olivia and Asher...what do you expect xD), slapping, pet whump

Olivia pushed a strand of hair out of her face and let out a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline rushing out of her body, leaving her absolutely exhausted. She always forgot just how much energy these types of things took out of her. At least she had the satisfaction of winning, especially after her opponent had been such a giant pain in the ass. And well, it was nice not having to deal with Nicolas' bad mood for once.

Now she was just sitting in the -luckily empty- changing room trying to gather enough energy to actually move. So far she was rather unsuccessful at that to be completely honest but since Nick was off somewhere doing...whatever it was that he was doing anyways, it didn’t really matter, so she just kept sitting there, staring at the floor in front of her.

Rodger breathed heavily, trying to take control of his anger. He was in the corridor of the fighting building. The door opened and Rodger could hear footsteps getting closer, “Good match. I guess I could say your dog put up an alright fight,” The voice chuckled. Rodger’s head snapped up to see Nick standing in front of him.

Suddenly he smiled, “Nick! How are you doing? I must say, I am very impressed with Olivia. And that trick at the end, genius!” Nick chuckled and bowed his head, “Thank you. I've had her trained tough, let's just say she has a lot of anger she can use to support her.”

“Tell me about it! Jesus Christ, Asher has the absolute worst temper, I have no clue what happened today though. But I swear I'll make him pay for it.” Nick leaned against the wall opposite Rodger, “Hey now, he was quite good, he just had tough competition.”

Rodger laughed, “That is true indeed.” There was a small silence before Rodger spoke, “Say, you wouldn't like to go out for dinner tonight, would you? You seem like a nice enough gent.” Nick smirked, “I'm honoured,” he joked, “That's perfect, I’ll see you tonight at Island Indigo, 7pm.”

“See you then”

And with that the two men went to check on their pets.

*

“God I just cannot with guys like that!” Olivia was pacing up and down in the basement, just as she had been for the past 10 minutes. “You know it's always guys who Think they're the absolute greatest and Think that I don't stand a Chance because I'm a girl. What Kind of bullshit logic is that?! God!”

Rain was watching her with big eyes from his place on the bed and slightly tilted his head to the side. Theo, who was sitting next to him, rolled his eyes and let out a slightly annoyed sigh, “You could also just be happy that you didn’t lose, why are you even still talking about it now?”

She shot him an annoyed glance and turned to him, “Because it is a matter of principal, Theodor. That and because for some god damn reason I have to see him again today. Could someone tell me again why I have to deal with the fact that Nicolas needs to make more friends? Can’t he do that without me having to suffer because of it? But nooo that would just be too easy, wouldn’t it?” She threw her hands up and let herself fall onto the ground, leaning with her back against the wall, ignoring the pain that cursed through her whole body as a result of the sudden movement.

“I mean, at least you could maybe..I don’t know, make a new friend as well?” Rain was still looking at her with a slight smile on his face. Olivia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a slight grin, “Mhm, yeah because we had such a good start to our relationship already.”

*

Olivia stared at Nicolas in absolute disbelief “I am absolutely not-” He made a gesture with his hand, immediately causing her to stop talking. “You are not given a choice here. You did good today, now you wouldn’t want to ruin that, would you?” There was a cold smile on Nicolas face, completely lacking any empathy. “Besides, you should really be grateful if anything.”

It took all of her self control to not punch him in the face right then and there, instead she just took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. “Oh well thank you so much,” she mumbled it more to herself but apparently Nicolas had still heard. Now he was looking at her with raised eyebrows and a dark expression, the warning clearly written over his face.

“What was that?”

Olivia knew that tone well enough by now and she felt a cold shiver running down her spine. She hadn’t completely messed up yet but he was reaching a limit in his patience. Frankly, she was surprised it had even taken that long. “Nothing...Sir.” She had to force the last word out, every inch of her skin felt like it was resisting it. But maybe for once it was better to not make him angry when it wasn’t necessary.

Luckily he seemed satisfied with her answer, a pleased smirk replacing the previous dark look on his face. “That’s what I thought.”

With that he handed her the dress and turned around to leave again.

“You got 10 minutes.”

*

Nicolas looked at Asher’s arm which was now in a sling. The bandages on his shoulder were slightly visible under his button-up shirt. “So, Antonio, that’s Asher’s trainer, right?” Rodger nodded, sipping his glass of wine and setting it back down on the table, “Yes! He’s truly great. Puts up with none of Asher’s bullshit. No matter how hard Asher tries to get out of things or how defiant he tries to be, Antonio simply doesn't put up with him. And puts him back in his place if you ask me.”

Nicolas nodded, thinking to himself, “You know, Olivia actually needs a new trainer.” Olivia’s head snapped over to Nicolas, eyes wide and jaw clenched. She heard Asher snickering quietly from where he sat. “Does she now?” Rodger asked, smirk wide on his face.

“Do you think Antonio could put up with another mutt?” Rodger chuckled, “A mutt who fights as good as her? He’d be more than happy to take her! She’d definitely make more money for him than Asher does.” This time it was Olivia’s turn to laugh quietly at Asher, who shot daggers at her with a death glare.

“Well guess you’re not the favourite anymore, huh Ashy boi?”

All of a sudden there was a burning rage in his eyes and before Olivia could fully register what was happening he leaned over the table, presumably in an attempt to hit her. Before he could really do anything Rodger was quick to react and grabbed his shoulder - the one that was still in a sling -, pulling him back before slapping him hard across the face, causing Olivia to flinch even though she wasn’t the one getting slapped.

But she had been in the past. She had been exactly where Asher was right now and for a moment she felt a sting of guilt in her chest.

That was until she saw the murderous look Asher was giving her now. From the corner of her eye she also noticed Nicolas watching her, as if he was waiting for her to act out as well. But she was not going to give him that satisfaction, instead he just shot him an annoyed look before focusing back on Asher again, who was still glaring at her as if he wanted to punch her. “I just let her win anyways!” Even though he was looking directly at her, he was clearly more talking to Rodger who didn’t really seem to take that statement seriously.

“Mhm, yeah sure you did Ashy.”

Lee's Taglist: @likeit-or-whumpit, @milk-carton-whump, @yesthisiswhump, @as-a-matter-of-whump, @appy-polly-loggies, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @myst-in-the-mirror, @tears-and-lilies

My Taglist: @starnight-whump, @jordanstrophe, @froggywhumpy, @whumpasaurus101, @as-a-matter-of-whump, @jojothepanwithoutaplan, @myst-in-the-mirror, @darklyria, @whumpsweetwhump

[rat-father]

Part 10! I missed my Cub bean so here's a mix of whump and fluff

Cub gets very jealous about another pet Xanzi has

Tagging; @skunkandgrenade @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @alliecat5594

-- tw;; it as pronoun, pet/captivity whump, intimate whumper, blood mention, beating/torture, restrained, hair pulling, drowning --

Master had just come home with a new pet, and Cub was desperate to meet it. It wasn’t particularly social but master had been talking about how they would be a ‘perfect pet’, and it wanted to know why. Apparently master still had to train them, which didn’t seem like a perfect pet to it, but it trusted master.

He had reassured it dozens of times that it wasn’t being replaced or thrown out, that the other pet would only be here temporarily. Still it couldn’t help but feel a bit scared. What if he changed his mind? Decided the other pet was better anyway?

It sat on the floor waiting across from the basement door, master said it was allowed in but it was too scared after what it saw last time. Occasionally it would hear banging and screaming. It was curious to know what was going on, but at the same time it really didn’t want to find out. Eventually Cub started to get bored and worked up the courage to go down.

It slowly opened the door and carefully headed down the stairs. It could hear muffled sobs coming from the middle of the room. The new pet was in a kneeling position with their arms chained up high above them. Master lowered his whip when he heard Cub, and turned to face it with a smile.

“Hey dear, finally came to meet your new friend?”

“No, master. It.. it wanted to see you.”

His smile broadened, it said the correct thing. It didn’t care too much about the new pet anyway, master had been spending hours with them, hours he could’ve been spending with it!

“That’s very nice of ya pet, I do have to say I miss spending time with ya,” He grabbed the new pet by the hair and pulled their head back. “But little Foon here has just been making training harder then it needs to be.” He hissed.

“Can pet help you in any way, master?”

He let go of Foon’s hair and gave a thought full hum. He stared at the shivering pet on the floor for a moment then turned back to Cub.

”Ya can, actually. Go make me a nice hot bath.”

It smiled and hastily ran back upstairs to the bathroom. It could finally be useful! The bath was quite big and it struggled to reach the faucet with its short arms. It leaned over the side even further and finally managed to turn it on. He said he wanted it to be hot, so it stuck its hand in every minute or so to check as the bathtub slowly filled up. Cub thought it was cool seeing it go from empty to full just like that.

The pet checked to make sure it was hot one last time and turned the faucet off, then ran back down to go tell master. It wanted to show that it was a good pet, better then the new one. That way he wouldn’t replace it for them. It slowed down to walking on the basement stairs, they were old and creaky. Master was still beating the other pet ruthlessly, giving Cub flashbacks to their own training. It hit its head with its palms to make the thoughts go away, it didn’t want to think about it.

Xanzi noticed it standing there, hitting it its head again. He sighed and put the whip down. He crouched down in front of it to gently grab its wrist and pull them away. It looked at him with teary eyes, silently pleading. He cupped its face and it instantly leaned into the touch. He should’ve known, shouldn’t have let it come down here again. Now he had to clean up this mess.

“It’s okay dear, you’re fine. I’m here, no one’s hurting you.” He whispered softly. “Did you make that bath for me?”

It nodded. “It..it did, master.”

“Good. You’re a good pet.”

It smiled at the words. Master said it was good. It had been good. It wouldn’t get punished if it was good. Master was generous, it loved him.

“Since you’ve helped me out and behaved so well, how about ya go get yourself a treat.” Xanzi said.

It let out a small gasp. Treats were its favourite, but it rarely got them. Master said they had a lot of sugar in them and they would make it sick if it ate too much. It thanked him and happily skipped upstairs. They were always kept in the same cupboard in the kitchen, so it could find them on its own.

While Cub was distracted getting treats, Xanzi turned around to the half conscious pet behind him. Foon’s back was bleeding and various shades of red. He took off the restraints and carried them over his shoulder to the bathroom, the blood stained his hands, they’d get punished for that later. Right now they needed to be cleaned, a hot bath would do. He put his hand in first to see how hot it was, and was pleasantly surprised at the burning temperature.

He lowered them into the bath. It took them a second to realize what was going on, but then they felt the water burning their skin and screamed. Quickly he grabbed a chunk of their hair and pulled their head underwater. He waited for the struggling to die down before he pulled them back up, grinning at the sound of them coughing and wheezing as they gasped for air. Oh how he had missed training pets himself.

“I wouldn’t have to hurt ya like this if ya just do what I say.” His tone was cheerful.

“No..no never.”

He smiled and pulled them underwater again. This time they passed out.

Cub snacked on the treats, playing with Panda and Narwhale on the couch. It was happy, it always felt happy after master praised it. And it even got a treat this time! It had been really good. The couch made squeaky noises as it bounced up and down where it was sitting. If it kept being so good, master would prefer it over the other pet, and keep it! It could be good, it was good. Master said it was. Master never lies.

Someone stroking its hair made it look up. It was master!  

“Are ya enjoying your treats?”

“Yes master! Thank you.”

Xanzi settled down next to it and let it crawl into his lap. He cuddled with it and lovingly stroked its cheek with his thumb. It relaxed and fell asleep within minutes. He couldn’t deny it looked adorable when it was asleep, holding onto him and murmuring things to itself. He couldn’t wait to have it with him forever.

[a-student-out-of-time]

ASOOT Timeline: September 2012 (We're Not Gonna Take It!)

I’m away on vacation this week, and this is the only time I’ll have WiFi, so don’t expect any updates till I get back. But this is a nice high note to leave off on, isn’t it? Let us finish Twisted Sister!–Timeline Anon

September 9 (continued)

Hajime tells Nikei that he just reset and they need to go to Hope’s Peak now. He also calls Sonia and tells her to bring as many people as she can to meet him at the entrance hall of the school. 

As Hajime and Nikei hurry to Hope’s Peak, they encounter Iroha and instruct her to stay out of the Kanade situation. Iroha reluctantly agrees. She goes back to Makoto, and the pair of them go to his house.

Once he and Nikei make it to the Hope’s Peak entrance hall, Hajime tells his friends that they need to bring the entirety of Class 77-B, plus Hibiki and Juzo, to the basement to take Kanade down.

Kanade reaches Hope’s Peak and enters through a basement window. However, before she can begin her assault on the school, white gas fills the room, weakening her. Hibiki appears in a gas mask, tells her sister to drop her weapons, and slices her gun out of her hand. This is the signal for Class 77-B and their allies to flood the room and lay a smackdown on Kanade. That done, Mikan injects her with a sedative, knocking her out.

Class 77-B moves an unconscious Kanade to the infirmary, where they tie her to a bed. With the school safe once more, Hajime bursts into tears, and both Yoruko and the Cuddle Puddle hug him.

Kokoro goes to check on Mikako in her office and tells her that there was a break-in, but the intruder was dealt with and no one was hurt besides the intruder. Mikako is to stay in Kokoro’s office for now, and she’ll also call Yamato and Hanzo. After confirming that Kokoro is okay, Mikako hugs her.

Hajime finds Yasuke, tells him about the conversation they had before his last rest, chews him out for yanking them around, and punches him.

Mikan and Kyoji search Kanade. They find lots of weapons, illegal stimulants meant to keep her energized, experimental body armor that looks like skin but can’t be pierced by any blade or bullet (she had this armor on her chest and arms but not her legs), and a neural implant in her brain that contains combat information and details about everyone in Class 77-B. Since all of this is super expensive and/or super illegal, they conclude that whoever put Kanade up to this was either extremely rich, extremely well-connected, or knew how to steal these items and get them to her. 

Sora gives everyone an update on the prison break: she, Maku, Emma, Umeko and Setsuka are helping the police, and most of the prisoners have been recaptured. However, a few prisoners are still on the loose, and the police have told everyone to stay home tonight while they search for the remaining escapees.

The Quantum Crew gathers in order to decide what to do with Kanade (who’s still unconscious for now). They won’t kill her, of course, but they can’t give her back to the police either, as Juu’s corruption will no doubt ensure that she will be re-armed and escape again. Yasuke offers to erase her memories and give her a new personality that is neither incestuous nor murderous. This proposal is rather controversial within the Quantum Crew’s ranks, so they vote on it, and in the end, they decide to go through with it. After the decision is made, Hajime dons his Kasugano outfit and leads most of his friends out onto the streets to help track down the escaped prisoners.

At Makoto’s house, Iroha and Makoto are making out when they hear a commotion going on outside. It’s Nikei and Emma, who have just recaptured a prisoner. The three Void friends reunite, and Makoto introduces himself to Nikei and Emma, although it’s a little awkward for him to explain why he’s covered in lipstick marks. Everyone’s cool with the new relationship. As Nikei and Emma depart to kick more prisoner ass, Nikei has Makoto promise to keep Iroha safe.

Hibiki helps Kouhei take down another prisoner. The Quantum Crew has recaptured 18 prisoners so far. 

Over in Akihabara, Tsurugi is trying to recapture a convicted arsonist by the name of Johjima Kazuto, who’s just set a building on fire with molotovs. Hajime, Mikan, Fuyuhiko, and Peko arrive to help. Tsurugi recognizes the Kasugano symbol on Hajime’s mask and demands to know if he had anything to do with the prison break, which Hajime denies. Johjima interrupts to inform everyone that he’s set up a propane bomb nearby. Tsurugi and Hajime go to a nearby apartment building to find the bombs (with Tsurugi telling Hajime that this doesn’t make them allies), while Mikan, Fuyuhiko, and Peko hold Johjima in place. It’s around this time that Kouhei, his backup, and some firefighters arrive on the scene. 

Taira’s been stuck at Byakuya’s penthouse all day.

Tsurugi and Hajime split up; Hajime looks for the bomb upstairs, while Tsurugi checks lower down. Tsurugi finds what he thinks is the bomb tied to a basement wall, but it’s actually a mess of junk and duct tape. Meanwhile, Hajime (with some help from Sora) gets a family of five out of the building, then finds the actual bomb, which is seconds away from going off. He meets back up with Tsurugi, stops him from trying to disarm the bomb, and pulls him into an apartment building. They take cover behind heavy furniture. 

Mikan, Fuyuhiko, and Peko refuse to let Kouhei enter the apartment building; they claim that Tsurugi told them to stop him. Just then, the bomb goes off.

The explosion traps Tsurugi and Hajime in the building. Hajime (who quickly disposes of his disguise) is mostly okay other than some smoke inhalation problems, but Tsurugi is unconscious with a head injury. They are saved by Shinji Kasai and his fellow firefighters. Hajime passes out shortly afterwards.

It’s Setsuka’s birthday. She turns 23.

//Quite a birthday for Setsuka ^^;

[jordanstrophe]

Be a Good Guest, part 4

**I’m tired, so if there’s typos shh, we don’t see them**

CW: Whump, captivity, punishment belting, glass shard wounds, blood, escape attempt, manhandling, dragging, creepy/parental whumper, restraints, forced to repeat rules

MASTERLIST

Night fell as Gabriel sat on the floor, his arms and head laying against the couch cushions. He held the butter knife tucked against the side of his arm. Walter was off in the house somewhere rustling around, moving furniture, hammering nails, rattling equipment. He didn’t tell him what he was making, but he knew it was for him, a “surprise” he called it. His spine shivered every time he thought about it, his heart was constantly elevated and pounding in his chest. It never seemed to calm down since the car crash. 

He slunk off the couch, sitting next to the hook his leg was shackled to as he wedged the butter knife into the wood gaps. Every time there was a loud banging noise from Walter, Gabriel would use the knife as a lever to slowly pull off splinters of wood, some making an occasional cracking sound. 

A big chuck of wood snapped off, flipping in the air as he flinched back. He already had a few splinters in his hand, he would rather not have one in his eye. He pulled at the metal loop, wiggling it around to see if it could come free yet, to his surprise, he felt a faint pop as one side had come loose. He took an excited shuddering breath, unbelieving that it was finally, finally happening.

He desperately jostled it back and forth, as it let out a high-pitch squeaking noise grinding against the wood. He almost got carried away until he noticed Walter’s hammering had stopped. 

Silence.

Please don’t come out. Of all the times, please don’t come out now.

He heard him scooting furniture around again as he took a sigh of relief.

He forced the hook back and forth until one side popped off. He gasped when adrenaline shot through his body, his hands trembled uncontrollably as he slipped the chain off it. He jumped to his feet, wrapping the chain around his arm as he kept nervously glancing down the hall.

He tiptoed to the door, looking up at the dozens of locks clamping it closed. He tried to unlatch them as slowly as possible, light clattering kept escaping with every move. This was impossible to do silently, but he was so close. He wanted so badly to just rip all the latches open and run, but there was still time to mess this up. 

He froze when he realized the house was silent. Too silent. 

“Gabriel?” A voice called. 

He jumped out of his skin when he heard his name being called. He whirled around in a panic until he grabbed the first thing closest to him, a tiny almost doll-like chair as he hoisted it over his head, staggering over to the window. It’s now or never...

He slammed the chair into the glass as hard as he could, it shattered and crumbled to the floor in fractures. He heard his name being yelled as he threw himself out the window, shards of glass remaining around the window slicing his arms and legs. He was still barefoot, as the dirt beneath him was cold as ice. The grass wasn’t any better as he ran, ignoring the blood running down his arm, the freezing air chilling his skin, the heavy chain still clamped around his leg and around his arm. 

It was dark, he was barely dodging the silhouettes of trees but he could just see the break where the road was where his car had crashed. Sure enough the car was long gone. He climbed the hill about half way till his foot slipped, hitting the ground as the chain fell from his arms. He hesitated, glancing behind him at the chain loosely dragging behind him, but pulled himself back up and kept going.

He gasped when his foot was snagged back, turning around to realize the chain had got caught on a root. 

“Gabriel!”

His voice echoed through the woods not far. But he was so close! His heart sunk when the voice called again, getting closer, he could see a faint light in the distance from his lantern. He scrambled and hid behind a tree, back pressed against the rough bark as he gasped for air. He closed his fingers around his mouth to try and quiet his breathing as he trembled. There was no time to go back and unhook it without being seen, his best chance was to stay out of sight until he hopefully passed. 

He jolted when he heard leaves crunching behind him. He felt his hands were soaked with something as he held it up. Was that blood? But nothing hurt... He shook the thoughts from his head as the crunching got closer. It stopped just a few feet behind him, as silence fell upon the woods. Nothing could be heard aside from the crickets chattering and the owl hooting. 

Gabriel shouted with fear when the chain around his ankle yanked him from behind the tree. He skidded to the ground as Walter continued to drag him all the way down the hill. Walter was muttering and grumbling to himself inaudibly as he worked to pull Gabriel's struggling arms behind him, wrapping the loose chain around his wrists. Gabriel was screaming, crying and whimpering with his face in the dirt. Walter kept him pinned down with his weight until he bent him back off the ground, hoisting him over his shoulder. 

“LET ME GO!” Gabriel screamed from his shoulder, pointlessly squirming around. Walter had both arms wrapped around his thighs to keep his legs still as he carried him home, the chain clanging together with every kick. He was dumped onto the floor, slamming the front door shut behind him as Walter stood over him furiously.

“What do you think you’re doing!? Smashing the window, running off like that! How did you even get the hook off?!” He screamed at him.

“Don’t you ever do that again! You me?! Don’t ev-” His voice was cut off as he looked down as his own hands, dripping with blood. “Wha-?” He whispered, turning his hands as with a puzzled look. He glanced down at Gabriel, who was  helplessly collapsed on the ground at his feet, shaking uncontrollably and panting.

“Oh little one...” He gasped, staring at the bleeding man at his feet, blood pooling down his arm with a glass shard poking out.

“What am I going to do with you.” He sighed, shaking his head with a finger and thumb rubbing on the bridge of his nose. 

“Y-you could... L-let me go?” He rasped, his voice shivering. 

“Oh Gabriel, just look at you! You’re a mess! I took my eyes off you for just a few hours, and this happened! You’re bleeding...” He sighed, dropping to his knees, gently taking his hand in his, turning his arm to assess the damage. 

Gabriel let off a whimper, turning his head to hide his face. Walter was silent for a while, before reaching over to take Gabriel's chin to tilt it up. 

“Little one, this can never happen again. I can’t have you running off like that at every chance you get and hurting yourself! This is why you stay here, safe, with me.” He said, his voice stern full of concern. Gabriel's lip quivered as he only stared up at him with sad fearful eyes. 

“So, as much as I want to say you already got a punishment based on your arms alone, to prevent you from hurting yourself any worse, I’m going to teach you a lesson.” He said, abruptly standing to his feet, grabbing hold of his arm and ripping him to his feet.

“Wha-?” Gabriel squeaked out before he was drug into the basement. His feet fumbling behind him as he was pulled down the stairs. 

“Wait... Wait.. Wait, Wait!!” Gabriel yelled, his gut feeling getting worse, and worse the more he realized what was happening. The room was almost pitch black, as he was thrown to the floor, his knees hitting the cold floor. Nothing could be heard but the echoing of his heavy breathing as his arms were tied in front of him to a beam. 

“Now my first instinct is to bandage you up and toss you in a bath.” His voice spoke as he fumbled with something. “But since you’ll just a liiiitle bit more bloody, I’d rather do this now.” 

“Do what?! What are you doing?” Gabriel cried. He didn’t know why tears were already running down his face. But deep down, he already knew what was going to happen, he just wasn’t ready to admit it. He pressed his face against the beam, sobbing with exhaustion. A small light flickered on above him as he squinted around, Walter was behind him somewhere.

“I want you to repeat back what I say.” He instructed, grabbing Gabriel's shirt to pull it up around his shoulders.

“I-I’m not d-doing anything for you!” He shuttered back, the cold getting to him. 

“I want you to say, I will not run.” 

“You’re craz-!” His words were cut off with a cry as a belt struck his back. He broke into a sob as his body cringed, slowly slinking further to the floor.

“Say it.” He hissed. 

Gabriel was silent for too long as another strike slashed across his back. He cried out as he helplessly twisted his body against the restraints around his wrists. 

“One more chance.” His voice growled. 

“I WILL NOT RUN!” He cried, his voice cracking. Walter smiled, letting out a satisfied sigh. 

“I will behave, and do as I’m told.” He grinned. Gabriel's heart sank, how much more did he want from him? He heard the belt rattle in his hands as he flinched, immediately whimpering “I’ll b-behave and d-d- as I’m t-t-told.” He stuttered. 

He let off another flinch when he heard the belt drop to the ground, his back burning and stinging. The man had a strong arm and didn’t hold back, he would give him that. 

He cried hysterically as he was taken down from the beam, the man cradling him in his arms, stroking his hair and thumbing the blood from his face.

“Was that so hard now?” He cooed. 

“Come on, you’re alright. Let's get you cleaned up and taken care of now.”

@alien-octopus @yesthisiswhump  @lave-whump @whumpasaurus101 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hamiltonwhumpdump @just-another-whumper @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @approach-me-and-ill-cry

ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ  Thank you for reading!

[soyforramen]

Old Times

Gladys hadn’t been back in town for a month before Alice showed up on her front porch at four in the morning, tears streaking down her cheeks (makeup looking just as good as when she’d applied it that morning; gotta love a woman who can afford Avon).  A wide-eyed teenager, the spiting image of a younger, more precocious Alice, tagged along behind her.  Without hesitation Gladys ground her cigarette out on the arm of the rocker (saved from Mr. O’Neil’s Tuesday trash pile) and pulled them both inside.

Without a word spoken, Gladys went to change the sheets in her bedroom.  Alice and the girl spoke softly in the kitchen, and try as she might, Gladys couldn’t make out a single word.  Whatever it was, it had been bad enough to bring Alice here and not one of her fancy, high-society friends’ houses (probably put out jello molds and finger sandwiches and food that tasted like creamed dirt).  Something big enough to ruin the entire Cooper household.

The pillowcase hung from the bottom of the pillow, wrapped around its middle in a suffocating grip, as she realized Hal hadn’t been with them.  In fact, she hadn’t seen Hal and Alice in the same place since she’d moved back to town (long-since overstayed, parents basement too crowded with two bickering teens and three shifts at the grocery store, g.e.d. just out of reach).  She’d exchanged enough nods with Hal in the frozen dinner aisle, both pretending the space between them wasn’t mired in ancient history and still raw rivalry.  Her path with Alice was limited to the high school drop-off lane, the one public gesture of maternal affection Jughead still allowed

Now, though.  She sighed.  It wasn’t uncommon for the women around here to lean on one another for comfort and safety.  Sad, really, how often that came on the heels of the men not living up to even the lowest standards.  

After a second thought, she fluffed up pillows and headed back towards the kitchen.  Coming towards her in the claustrophobic hallway came Alice and her child (Betty, she realized with a flash of deja vu, a reminder of when she and Jughead were the ones on the other end of this), and Gladys flattened herself against the wall.

“Thanks, Ms. Jones,” Betty murmured, her eyes downcast.

Gladys hadn’t the heart to tell her she hadn’t been a Jones for almost fifteen years.  

“Not a problem at all, darlin’.  What do you think about strawberry pancakes in the morning?”

Betty gave her a watery smile and Alice shooed her into the bedroom.  The door closed behind them, and Gladys let out a heavy breath.  There was always something going wrong around here.  You expected it, but it still hurt to see it happen.

Filled with a nervous energy (live wired and on fire, as her daddy used to say before the tar and the coal got to him; put a cork in that and you could power the whole nothern half of the states), Gladys flitted around the house, straightening and tucking and dusting, nothing seeming to be enough anymore.  She had another two hours before she had to be at her first shift at the factory down the road.  Then again, maybe she’d return that long ago favor and call in sick.  After all, she was entitled to a few days here and there (nothing like the dump in toledo where they squeezed every drop of your soul, pennies on the dollar, and still demanded more).

Just as she was running a cloth over the television set (only three channels, black and white; older than either of her children who preferred leeching ole’ henry’s wifi instead of -), the bedroom door shut quietly.  Gladys straightened and waited for Alice to appear.  When their eyes met, Alice’s stoic, no-nonsense rock solid mask crumbled into a mess of tears and grief.

“He’s -“

Poor gal couldn’t even speak properly anymore.  Whatever Hal’d done, it was enough to knock the sense out of Alice, and that was a scary enough prospect on its own.  She hadn’t been that thrown for a loop since they’d raided (stole) Mantle’s stash of E (curled up like kittens, high in the dusty sunlight on the trailer floor, alice laying out her future with hal and not her…).

Gladys quieted her and lead Alice to the love seat (third-hand from earl and katie, bless their hearts even though it did smell like that damn cat).  Alice tried to apologize for the interruption, but Gladys refused to let her.  Jughead she didn’t have to worry about - boy slept like a brick in a tornado - and J.B. was at a sleepover with some of her friends (best friends on the first day of school, always did get her daddy’s better traits, while jug soured down into his old records and writing, lost in his own world, too much like his mama to make anything of it).

Once Alice was settled, Gladys poured out a shot of rum and set it on the coffee table along with a box of tissues.  A few steps back, and Gladys was in the kitchen to give Alice a modicum of peace in the tiny trailer.  She poured a glass of water and set it next to the empty shot glass.

“Another one?  I have whiskey, too.”

Alice shook her head, a crumbled tissue in her hand halfway shredded to hell and back already.  On the table lay three more (three bucks a pop here, can you believe) and Gladys couldn’t help but want that to be the remnants of Hal’s body.  

“Hal, he -“ Alice’s words were cut off with a gut wrenching sob, and Gladys rushed to her.

Like she did when the kids woke up from their nightmares, she murmured platitudes and soft words, her arms wrapped around Alice in a cocoon of safety.  After a good long cry (glad she still wore waterproof, cheap, drugstore mascara would have ruined the fabric, though the concealer would do hell on the blouse), Alice steadied herself.

Despite her hair falling out of its unnatural wave, despite the botchy cheeks, red eyes, and snotty nose, Gladys was still struck by how well Alice carried herself.  Likely an armor built up having to suppress anger and frustration in this ticky-tacky town (hoa’s, pta’s, cya’s).  A rose of anger bloomed on her cheeks sent Gladys rocking back on her heels, a thrum of excitement rushing through her.

“I suppose you’ve heard about our town’s little problem,” Alice said, still speaking in polite euphemisms and innuendos.  She reached for the glass of water and primly cleared her throat (cats and spots, zebras and strips, snakes and scales; once, always).

“Depends on which one you mean,” Gladys said.  

She was being sarcastic, she knew, but it was the truth.  Riverdale hadn’t changed much from when they were growing up, damn whatever bullshit Hiram and his developers were trying to sell.  It still had the same pristine front, picture perfect suburban life style, full of well respected men trying to save the village green from its own preservation society, but now the fetid foundation it had been built upon was bubbling out from the seams.  The drugs, gangs, and murders were more visible now, no longer brushed under the railroad tracks into the Southside of town.

Hell, the only new thing about it seemed to be the mafia trying to gain a foothold.  And Gladys had her own plans on how to deal with that.

Mostly, though, she’d missed being able to push Alice’s buttons (eyes narrowed, tongue beneath her teeth, a flash of heat in a pan), to get a rise from her so she was the center of her focus.  If nothing else, it drew Alice’s attention away from her grief at hand.  

“But, if you’re talking about that black hood idiot,” Gladys drawled, wincing at the pins and needles attacking her as she stood, “then I’ve heard a bit.”

“Yes, well.”  Alice cleared her throat and looked away.  “It turns out you were right.  About Hal.”

“Oh?”

Gladys let it hang in the air.  It wasn’t often that Alice Cooper, nee Smith, admitted to being wrong about anything, especially when it came to her life choices.  And yet the juxtaposition of the two - the Black Hood and Hal - had caught her attention like a hook in a trout’s belly.

“About -?”

“About Hal,” Alice snapped.

She stood to pace the thin carpet of the trailer, her hands wrapped tight around her arms, the pastel green cardigan wrinkling under her fingers.  

“He’s been going around these past few months like a god damned fool, playing at being an avenging angel, murdering people who he thought deserved it.  I can’t believe I bought his lie about going bowling. The man can’t even lift a lawnmower, let alone a bowling ball.”

Gladys sat down on the love seat, one leg thrown onto the coffee table and watched Alice stew in front of her.  It was a mirror image of fifteen years ago, almost to the day.  She gently touched the corner of her eye, still bearing a white scar, and cursed the day she’d ever met that man.

“And then the bastard has the audacity to say that our children need to be purified.  That I need to be purified.  It was bad enough that he sent that letter to Polly, what he did to Betty -“

Alice stopped and tugged at her hair (bottle blonde to cover up the slow, steady march of time; at least a week’s worth of gladys’ pay for vanity every month).  Gladys stood and guided Alice back to the love seat.

“How about you start from the beginning?”

Another stream of tears, this time borne of frustration and anger, slipped down Alice’s cheeks as she dove head first into the long tale.  Hal always had thought himself above the rest of the town (secret son, hidden away from the world) even though his own sins bore bitter fruit of their own (alice angry and self-destructive in senior year; drunk on the floor; od’ed in the bathroom; blood running down wrists).   Somehow he’d managed to fuel that into something more productive - a picture perfect nuclear family and modest but plentiful business - until he finally didn’t.  

The first murder attempt, then the second, third, and fourth followed, no longer attempts.  Quit murders in the surrounding counties that went with only a few murmurs of disapproval.  Even his own family hadn’t been immune; daughters, tortured and deceived by the man meant to protect them from such things (kids of all things; for crissakes was nothing sacred?.

And Alice…

When she was done with her macabre tale, ending in Hal’s entrapment of his family and their violent escape, Gladys let out a low whistle.

“Well.  Shit.”

Alice let out a wet, wry laugh.  She curled her legs up under her and hugged a throw pillow tight (bought on a whim at a yard sale - two’fer deal she’d haggled; matched the lace curtains jb couldn’t help but make fun of).  Gladys stood and walked towards where her father’s urn sat on the mantle, a place of honor in a family who had little to do with ghosts of the past.

“What do you want to do about it?” Gladys asked.  

Standing on her tiptoes, she reached in an pulled out a rusted Altoids tin and a lighter.  When Alice caught sight of it she let out a real laugh this time, one that drew memories of simpler, happier times when it had just been the two of them against the world.  Wonder Woman and Sarah Conner, united together.  Until they grew up and out of middle school dreams and into the real world where bills piled up and mouths had to be fed.  

“You know we’re not in high school, right?”

Gladys grinned and fell onto the love seat next to her.  She popped open the tin and held it out to Alice.

“Do you want to do the honors?  You always were better at it than I ever was.”

Alice chewed her lip, the implications and scandal of what Gladys was proposing flashed across her eyes.  It was easy enough to guess the arguments against it, the same old ones she’d heard before (what if your mom/daughter/sister finds out you keep that in there? she’ll be more pissed that she didn’t find it sooner), but her hand was steady when she took the tin. Gladys watched her fingers work, long thin fingers still trapped by a band of gold.  The ring of a promise that fell flat and brought with it a hell of a right-hook in the end.

As she watched, Gladys let her mind wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t allowed themselves to be torn apart in high school.  If she’d only beaten the truth out of Hal in junior year when Alice vanished.  If only, if only, if only.

“What I want,” Alice said with a finality, the lid snapping shut a punctuation to her decision, “is to rip his guts out and feed them to him while that harpy mother of his watches.”

Gladys flicked the lighter, the flame dancing around the end of the joint.  Her eyes didn’t move from Alice’s lips as she took a hit.  Lines ebbed and faded, reminders of their time spent apart, waves of years and youth wasted.  In the poor ventilation of the trailer, the smoke wrapped them in a thin cocoon of safety, a gauzy curtain to shield them against the reality of their choices.

“Might have to lay a tarp down, but I know a few guys.”

The phrase sent Alice into a fit of giggles (ask freddie and fp, they know some guys) and Gladys shushed her with a crooked smile, reminding her that Betty lay sleeping not forty feet away.  Alice took another took and blew the smoke into Gladys’ face, a ribbon that caressed and teased her skin

“Or we could take care of it ourselves.”

“Just like old times?”

“Just like old times.”

(A few months later found Jughead and Betty at Pop’s working on a school project under Gladys’ critical eye.  Jughead, used to his mother’s hovering nature, enjoyed the free fries she dropped off between customers; Betty, it seemed, was far more perturbed by the woman’s sudden closeness with her mother.  It wasn’t until they were writing about Lady McBeth  (‘out damn spot’ seemed to Jughead less of a guilt ridden complex after this Black Hood business and more of an attempt at an evidentiary coverup) that he spoke on a subject that had been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Doesn’t it seem odd?”

Betty hummed and continued to write.  “What seems odd?”

“My father disappears three months before my mother leaves town, never to be seen again.  We come back, and three months later your dad disappears.  And each time, our mothers renewed their friendship just weeks before.”

Any goodwill Betty might have held towards Jughead froze quickly at the implications in his words.  Her fingers gripped the mechanical pencil hard enough her knuckles went white and the plastic cracked.  

“My father was a serial killer,” she snapped.  Blooms of anger rose on her checks and Jughead shifted under her glare.  “It’s not surprising that he’d run away after trying to kill his wife and his daughter in their own home.”

Cowed, Jughead picked at the lukewarm fries.  Her words didn’t change his mind, didn’t move his suspicions a single degree, but it did quiet his need to pry further into her opinion.

The matter was dropped as Macbeth and his realm descended further into madness.)

[uhgoodmoni]

Nothing That Lasts Forever

A BTS Horror Fanfiction

Warnings: Major Character Death, Blood, Demons, Fighting, Verbal and Physical Abuse, Mention of marijuana, Death, Cursing, Fire, Unintentional Self-harm, Gore. Yoongi's injury

Ao3 link - Wattpad link - Soundtrack

Trailer - ch1 - ch2 - ch3 - ch4 - ch5 - ch6 - ch7 - ch8 - ch9

Chapter Eight: 456782

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER INVOLVES HEAVIER TOPICS, as the author I got stressed writing this so if you get anxious easily then I don’t suggest you read any further. The next few chapters are very heavy, especially if you don’t like to see our boys hurt. Please remember that I have tagged Major Character Death. Please remember that this is an act of fiction and I do not mean any harm with my work. 

Last warning: I - your author, genuinely cried writing some of the next chapter(s) . I'm still not trying to spoil anything but from here on out the story gets a lot more serious and heavy. I know I said I wouldn’t put warnings and author’s notes but I think that if you want to finish the story you should know it's not an easy ride. Anyway good luck.

Yoongi’s POV

I wipe my tears, spreading blood about my face. Unable to see through the red I use my sleeve to finally clean myself up. Though I wasn’t able to completely stop the tears. Turning away from the limp body, I look to Hoseok. He hasn’t moved from where Jungkook had pinned him. His body trembles, hands covering his face, soft sobs escaping to the floor. 

“Hoseok.” I barely produce his name, my voice scratching out in the chilled air. He flinches as my fingers faintly tap his thigh. Swallowing, I shuffle over to him. “Hoseok.” This time I whisper, my hand hovering over his arm. His forehead is pressed hard against the floor, reddening his hairline. His eyelashes clump together through his tears, and I let out a weak breath. 

“Hobi.” My hand gently sits on his, which covers his cheek. “It’s Yoongi.” He lets out a hiccup, curling into my knees. Swallowing, I think how I should probably ask him the important question. What is something only he knows about me? But as his tears soak into my pant leg I realize that now is not the right time. 

For a long time I sit there, allowing Hobi to take the time to cry. I probably should too, but I’ve felt a weight lifted off of the room. The heater kicks on, as I squeeze Hoseok’s arm. He’s calmed down quite a bit, his hand falling from his face, revealing a deep blush, and bleeding gash on his cheek. His face is swollen on the left side. I take a pained breath for him, as I touch his cheek. He swallows, ignoring the ache. 

He pushes my hand away, leaning on his arm to sit up. A few more tears trickle down his cheeks. He stares into my chest, eyes wandering in thought. I notice now that pink fingermarks stain his skin on his neck. He must have been choking him hard. My hand reaches up at my own throat, it probably looks the same. We sit together, maybe collecting our thoughts or maybe just trying to recover.

“Your hands.” He whispers, making me bring my eyes down to my palms. Blood, pouring from two slits almost the length of my whole hand. I squeeze them, blood dripping from the folds in my prints. The pain had subsided while I tore at my brain, though now it was returning. My back throbs from being thrown at the wall, and the cuts sting as if the glass were still sliding across my skin. Hoseok slowly wobbles into standing position, going slowly to the kitchen and coming back with wads of paper towels. 

“Here.” He says, pressing them into my hands, and keeping one free of the blood. I nod thanks. “For your face.” He mumbles, holding up the other one. My eyes fall to my hands, blood sopping into the towels already. The towel nears my face, I close my eyes as he rubs at my cheeks and around my lashes. I sigh heavily, my entire body shaking in the breath. 

“Sorry, it’s dried.” His voice is soft, setting the towel to the ground.

“I got contact with Namjoon.” He looks up, eyes slightly hopeful, but falling when they meet mine. “It didn’t last long enough for me to explain.” He frowns. “And then I smashed it with a rock.” 

“My phone is somewhere.” He mutters, reaching to help me up. With the towels in hand, I take his, pulling myself up. Our eyes meet again, and we stand there for a moment. I take a step towards him, but he stops me with a shake of his head, turning around me and heading to the hallway. Slightly disappointed I bite my lip, turning in pursuit of him. I know he doesn’t mean harm, he probably just wants to avoid the… elephant in the room. 

He steps into his room, me following. We shouldn’t split up anymore. After a quick search, we move on to Jungkook’s room. Both of us are hesitant to enter. Eventually, Hoseok goes in, walking around and flipping through drawers in search of it. 

I stand at the bed, as Hoseok reaches Jungkook’s bag that was left behind. His eyes close for a moment, before tearing through the bag as well. He shoves it over in disbelief, unable to find it. 

Unsure of what to do I stare at my feet, the dusty floorboards, and cobwebs much less disturbing now. My eyes widen at a new idea. Painfully I bend over. holding my hands tenderly as I lean down to look under the bed. There is a cell phone. My fingers creep around the frozen block shakily pulling it out. 

I hand it to Hobi, who turns it on and unlocks it. Hovering behind him I see that he has 30%. Not that there is any chance that we could have service. I note that there are no bars, and I shake my head, there was no point in getting our hopes up anyways.

“Wait.” Hobi says, and I barely turn to him. He opens his settings looking for the wifi. There is it.

Glamping189. 

He opens it quickly typing in the password. 456782. It loads, and the two of us stare at it as it spins. Contemplating whether or not to let us get through. Incorrect password for “Glamping189”. Hobi keeps the phone in his hand, staring as the screen for a moment before clicking ok. It doesn't exit the screen. Rather it turns black. 

456782 pops up.

456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 45678 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782.2. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782. 456782.

Hobi’s face scrunches up in anger, his hand clenching around the phone. He doesn’t speak, pitching the phone into the wall. It slaps the floor, looking broken. 

“What were we to expect?” I sigh, voice horse. He swallows, staring down at the phone. I look over him again. Blood is coming right through the towels left on his arms. His eyes flicker with pain. I fight back tears looking at him like this. Some of this is my own fault. I shouldn’t have left him alone. Twice now. 

“So we walk.” He finally manages, turning his glance to the door. I shake my head, looking down at his ankle, the lump of socks still covering it. He looks at me, pulling my eyes up to his. “We don’t have any other choice.” 

After a moment I nod, and together we hobble out of the room. I pull my gaze upwards as we start into the living room. I just can’t. I can’t. I can’t. 

“He’s gone.” My eyes fall, despite my attempt to keep them up. Hobi is correct. Jungkook’s body isn’t there. I bite down on my lip, flipping around. 

“Why?” I mumble, my eyes searching around the room. He isn’t here. But he’s alive. 

Alive.

I didn’t kill him. Maybe we can all still get out of here together? Hoseok’s eyes do not change. Unhopeful. Even if he is alive. It’s. Not. Him. 

“Let’s keep going.” Hoseok whispers, eyes looking towards the door. I nod, hesitant, it doesn’t feel right leaving behind one of us. We can send help. We can get out and send help. He’s alive and that’s all that matters. 

We start towards the door, a breeze rushing through against us. It’s chilling to the bone. A wind that wants to keep us here. Jungkook’s figure hobbles in front of the door. After everything. I can’t be shocked. 

His eyes are shadowed, barely open and glaring to the floor where his blood is smeared. He mumbles something that I don’t hear. I don’t know what to do. I… I stabbed him. I could swear that I brought that shard down into him. His body went limp and…

“We have to burn it down.” He mumbles, barely coherently. How is he even standing? He’s slumped over, leaning on the door frame. Despite being able to stand, he still looks awful. His skin is pale and his eyes barely hold themselves open. 

“Jungk…” He throws something in front of us. A tank of gas, rolling over on the floor. 

Slowly he lifts his head up, dim eyes meeting mine. “We burn it down.” I shake my head. This might not even be Jungkook. Jungkook could still be dead. This thing could be playing with us. How could we even trust him?

“After my graduation, we went out,” He coughs, hand hovering over his mouth, “we went out and you and Namjoon were teasing me about how I wasn’t legal yet, even though neither were Jimin and Tae.” I swallow, unsure of what to say to him. It was true. He slides into the door. “Is that good enough reason for you to help me light this fucked place up.”

I look to Hobi who seems unsure. “But there isn’t any gas, we could use the gas to fill up the car... “ I say remembering what Hobi told me. 

Jungkook grits his teeth. “The car has more than a half tank. I checked.” 

Hoseok doesn’t say anything, but glares at Jungkook. How could he have mistaken that? A lie? But Hoseok can’t lie. He can’t... I swallow noting that his eyes, yet again, look different from before. 

Not again. I bite my lip. Who the fuck am I supposed to trust? I… I don’t understand. Only myself? Do I trust myself? After what happened in the basement? What happened to me during that time? 

“Yoongi!” Jungkook shouts for my attention but it is too late. I gasp at the sharp pain in my abdomen. My eyes drop to the shard of glass in my left side, a stream of blood streaking onto it. My throat contracts as my hands clamp over the wound, looking up to Hoseok who is. Not Hoseok. 

I gulp at the grin plastered on its face. 

“Who? Koo?” It hums, mocking me from before. Fear and anger bubble up inside me. How long was Hoseok not here? How long has it not really been him? This whole time? 

“Yoongi run!” Jungkook shouts from the door, tossing a rock at the forehead of the thing. I take my chance clutching onto the glass unsure of whether to pull it out and dash to the door. We step out into the black. The moon is not in the sky to light the woods. Jungkook pushes forward towards the car, and I race after him.

It’s fast on my heels and something meets my foot, bringing me down to the gravel on my side. I groan, pebbles and muck sticking to my lips. My hand lingers on the glass, if I had fallen on the opposite side it would have been lodged even deeper into my abdomen. Now or never. I take the glass in my grip, and with trembling hands slip it out. 

“Ahhh fuck.” I grunt, pushing myself up from the gravel. 

“FUCK OFF” Jungkook cries wielding a long stick, swinging at Hobi, and keeping him away from me as I recover. The stick in his hand wavers as his hands shake, whether from weakness or fear I don’t know. Hoseok’s smile doesn’t fade, as he looks at the meager weapon that Koo has taken up.  

His hands in turn take the other end of the stick, yanking it and Jungkook forward. He’s weak and tumbles onto his knees. From behind him I see that despite how he looked, the wound that I had left him with was not there. Had I imagined it? Bringing the glass down into him?

Barely lifting his head up to the thing Jungkook bares his teeth. My stomach twists seeing the way Hoseok is looking at Jungkook. Pure lust for his suffering. His eyes glow with satisfaction, knowing that Jungkook is too weak to put up a fight. 

“Hoba stop…” I mutter quietly, unsure of whether he’d listen. He does look over to me as I push myself up. I gulp, my eyes meeting his again. He doesn’t blink as he walks around Jungkook, still slumped. He surely wouldn’t have been able to defend against the strength of it. No. Neither of us can. 

He gets up close to me, pushing my back up against the cold of the car door. His skin is pale, and seems to move on its own accord. I swallow, unable to bear the look of him and shut my eyes. I can feel him getting closer and closer. Do I dare run? Leave Jungkook to fend for himself… again. I grind my jaw. No. No. No.

Still. What can I do against this thing? Absolutely nothing. This is obvious as I am overpowered by him. His hands look frail, skin and bone despite the grip on my arms being stronger than anyone. My breath holds, though this time of my own accord. I can’t give this damn thing any reaction. It doesn’t deserve it. 

“Leave us alone.” I mutter, staying stern as my body presses itself against the freezing touch of the car. He doesn’t respond as his bony fingers press up against my cheek, sharp nails poking at the flesh. 

“Which one?” It asks laughing, taking its other hand and training it down my chest, to my abdomen. Taking its time until it reaches the wound. I swallow preparing for the pain. But with a grunt from Jungkook it never comes. 

Hoseok’s body drops to the floor, and behind him Jungkook stands holding a log from the fire. We both look down to the thing, out cold. Slowly my body slides down beside him. 

“What do we do?” I cough out, and Jungkook leans over himself closing his eyes. “Oh Koo I’m sorry. How are you even standing? Your back, how is it?” I try pushing myself up to see but he just shakes his head.

“Huh? My back is fine, it’s just,” He sniffs, “Something isn’t” He presses a hand against his stomach. “Something isn’t right.” As soon as I am completely up I circle around him, finding that there is no wound from where I had stabbed. A feeling of relief washes over me. So that wasn’t the real Jungkook? I glance down to Hoseok, who looks completely normal passed out on the gravel. So this isn’t the real Hoseok? Then where is he?

“I don’t… I don’t understand but I think we should lay him out in the gravel with some blankets and then burn the house down like I had said before. We double-check that Hobi isn’t in the house and then we drive, and send a rescue team after Hoseok, whether this is the real him or not I… I don’t know.” Jungkook regains his composer and reaches for the arm of Hobi. 

“How will they know?”

“We send them with a pre-prepared question.” He answers before I can even explain myself. I want to disagree. I want to stay and find Hoseok but… if we take any more batterings…

“Okay..” I agree, taking Hoseok carefully by his other arm.

[onceuponanaromantic]

Descending

(Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial​‘s FFF52: Child’s Play! Set in the same universe as one of my other FFF pieces  and can either be read as a continuation or on its own. Enjoy!)

Their footsteps echo as the group walks down the stopped escalators.

             There’s a silence that alights on the group as they climb down the basement. There’s no whir of aircon but the cold air flows around them anyway. Yixin pokes at her watch as it begins to smoke slightly. There’s a sour, almost burning smell that begins to hurt her wrist where the watch is wrapped around it.

             She eventually gives up and takes off the watch. The last thing that’s on the watch is the warping 00:00.

             There’s a loud crash and everyone jumps. The noise scrapes across their already raw nerves and they turn to look at where the sound originated from. Axel is trapped at the previous escalator, surrounded by broken glass where the light above him had just shattered.

             Axel tries to move forward, picking his way around the glass, only for the glass to start moving.

             Mervyn hesitantly reaches out, transferring Kenneth’s bag to his other arm, only for one of the shards to shoot forward and jab him in the leg. Axel nods once and turns away.

             “It’s okay. You go on, I’ll go find Kenneth and Ming Rong.” Axel holds out his arm and takes Kenneth’s bag from Mervyn. “They should still be in the toilet.”

             Mervyn’s hands are large and shaky as he passes the bag over. The class watches, holding their breath, but the glass doesn’t move. Axel grabs the bag and slings it over his arm. He waves once, before heading back up the escalator, climbing it two steps at a time. The class watches until Axel climbs high enough that they can’t see him anymore.

             “Has anyone tried calling them?” Steven asks.

           “Ming Rong went inside to call Ethan to check on him but Ethan didn’t bring his phone.”

             There’s a roar of thunder and the sound of rain starts to drown them out. “DID ANYONE TRY CALLING MING RONG?”

           The escalator starts to move with a loud groan, nearly jerking all off balance, depositing them all at the bottom of the escalator before stopping again.

             “I think there’s something up.” Someone whispers.

           “No shit.”

           “Who isn’t here?”

           “Ethan, Xin Yee, Dora-“

             “Xin Yee and Dora have their phones with them right? So does Ming Rong right?”

           “There’s no signal in the building.”

           “That’s… that’s not good.”

           “There’s no wifi signals at all. Nothing.”

           “Should we try going to the MRT?”

             “OKAY GUYS. EVERYONE PAUSE.” Mervyn calls. “CAN WE TRY AND FIGURE OUT WHAT WE KNOW OF WHAT’S GOING ON HERE FIRST BEFORE WE DO ANYTHING?”

           Everyone quietens. Mervyn looks proud of himself for a moment before sobering.

             “There’s a storm going on outside.”

           “There’s no signal in the building. Or outside the building.”

           “No one who has left has responded to calls or anything in the group chats.”

             “Okay guys, if we’re stuck in a horror story, do y’all want to write down what we’ve tried already and what we’ve seen?” Alyssa suggests.

             “I think I have paper.” Madhu says, pulling out a crumpled receipt. The light above them goes out with a startling crack, and for a moment the only sound is their beating hearts running away from them. The class shivers before pulling out their phones and turning on the flashlights.

             “Okay. Okay so, we start making the list.” Someone passes over a pen and Madhu clicks it.

             “So Ethan first when missing right when he went to get bubble tea for Xin Yee. Then, Kenneth went missing after he went to the toilet and never came back-“

           “No, that was because there was purple fire and the balcony got set on fire.”

           “Right so storm. Then what next? Oh, then Dora and Xin Yee went down to check on Ethan and get everyone else bubble tea. Then, Ming Rong called Ethan? Uh, then, Kenneth never came back right. And then the light exploded, and-“

           “Axel got trapped and went back, yes.”

           “Okay, so we know that the lights are a thing that’s being affected. So uh, keep your phone flashlights on? Go in pairs too. And uh, shall we stay together? It seems safer?”

             “RIP Axel.” Someone mutters.

           “We should go to the basement.” Kylie suggests. “Ethan, Dora and Xin Yee went there and the MRT’s there too, so there might be clues on how to get out of this.”

           There’s murmured agreement and they start moving again. There’s a low howling above their heads, almost mournful and resonating throughout the building. The class starts moving faster down the escalators.

             “Wait, should we even be using the escalators?”

           “What do you suggest?”

           “Stairs.”

           “We’re already on the escalators so we just do that until we run into something else.”

             (The black cat licks its paws, curious and idly malicious. What a fun group to play with! It stretches, cleans the remaining blood off its fur and then hops off the body. It considers the bag the boy is holding for a while but dismisses it. It’ll be there when the cat gets back anyway.)

             The group doesn’t say anything else until they reach the open level of the ground floor. Someone pushes on the automatic door when it fails to open. Steven runs his hands over it, only to jerk back when a sharp shock comes his way.

             “So we’re locked in. What a surprise.”

           “Basement, it is then.”

           “Do you want to try calling again?”

             They sort out who is to call who: Adele agreeing to call Xin Yee, Pearlyn calling Dorathea, Raeanne calling Ming Rong and Mervyn calling Axel.

             They allocate someone to call Kenneth, only for Mervyn to hold up Kenneth’s phone.

             They stay there for ten minutes with the background noise of ringtones going to silent.

             “No answer.”

           As one, they turn towards the basement.

             “This is where we decide that we have no choice but to play this game.” Alyssa says, quietly.

             “You would say this is a game?” Yixin asks, making sure no one else could hear them.

             “It always is.”

[hellfirenacht]

Can’t Be Unseen Chapter 5

Sal Fisher x Reader

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

AO3

Chapter Summary:  You have a DREAM and think back on MEMORIES.

Larry didn’t stay long that night, at least no more than two hours. It was getting late, past midnight, and though he didn’t have an official curfew, he didn’t want to make his mom too worried or suspicious. He put his long-since cast off shirt back on and gave you a hug and a kiss on the forehead before he headed to the basement floor.

You closed the door behind you and made your way back to your room. As you changed into your pjs you noticed a small mark on your collarbone, and felt very thankful that it was sweater season. You didn’t really want to worry about covering hickeys with make-up come Sunday when your parents came home. You’d already had the talk way too many times with your parents. As lucky as you were that they were more than willing to tell you where they kept condoms in the apartment, you really weren’t feeling that right now.

Sleep came easily to you that night, without thoughts of overthinking for once. Though it was mostly because you were so tired from everything that happened that day. Within minutes of laying down you were passed out.

It‘s almost time for school, the late autumn sun threatens to set and yet you worry about being late. You are in the school hall, your class is towards the gym but each turn of the corner puts you between your old elementary school and your current high school. But that’s normal, right? Yes, this is what “school” is.

Travis is in the library giving you a dirty look from behind the help desk. He calls you a dirty harlot for kissing Larry. You aren’t allowed to use the computers anymore.

Class has started and you’re late. You wonder if it’s even worth going to class since you can’t open your locker and you’re late. Oh, you aren’t supposed to be here. This is your old elementary school anyway. It would be best if you left.

You exit the building; something feels off. You are outside of your high school and your childhood neighborhood is right across the street despite it being a few states away.

There’s someone next to you. You tell them you think you’re dreaming as if you are commenting on the weather.

“Oh, that’s cool.” they seem to agree. You ask them what you think you should do if this really is just a dream.

“You should probably leave. It’s not really interesting here.”

School is a dull place for a semi-lucid dream, you decide walking back into the building. If this is a dream, then you might as well find some company.

You walk into the first classroom you see. Larry is sitting on his desk and you tell him that this is a dream and that he should explore with you. He responds by standing up and throwing his backpack across the room before jumping down and following you out.

He asks if you usually know if you’re dreaming and in kind you explain this has only happened a handful of times. You’re outside on the sidewalk, he tells you to try and fly.

You doggy paddle in the air at best for a few seconds before landing on your feet. You know you can’t actually fly and that ruins your dream logic. Larry is still impressed that you did as much.

It’s nighttime and the street lamps are lit. The moon is full and close, way too close. The craters of the moon are more prominent than you’ve ever seen and you feel uneasy. You tell Larry you don’t like the moon.

He makes a big leap over your head, landing easily as though for a moment gravity didn’t bind him. He lands in front of you and you keep walking. It’s Halloween and pumpkins are everywhere. One is carved to look like Sal’s mask.

Larry asks if this is your dream then where is Sal? You aren’t sure. It’s honestly pretty rare that people you know play a big role in your dream. You simply shrug your shoulders and Sal appears in the distance before walking into the shadows of the woods. You cry out for him but he’s gone and you go after him.

Larry has disappeared and you run through the trail and find yourself at the edge of a lake. Sal stands at the edge next to a doc and you approach him.

He asks you, if he’s Jason-chic does that mean he should jump in the lake and scare children? You deny his request, noting that the stuffed animal you won him so many months ago (which he isn’t even holding) would be ruined. You tell him you’re dreaming and he nods, unphased.

He says that even if it is a dream he’s real and you agree. Of course he’s real, and you’re sure that when you wake up that both of your friends will remember this adventure. It is science and a fact.

You feel Larrys’ arms around your waist and you look at Sal who’s still staring out into the lake. This is normal, right? You close your eyes and someone kisses you and you kiss back. Larrys’ nose pressed into your cheek. The lips on yours turn hard and unmoving like plastic. Sal’s hands were so nice and cool. No, wait Larrys’ hands were warm. No-

You open your eyes and gasp in horror taking a step back. Sals’ mask is gone and his face is distorted, glitching, loud, static-

Larry asks if you’re really going to look at his best friend like that. You can barely hear what he’s saying over the static. Sal says’ something but his voice is distorted. Sal reaches a hand out but you push it away as the world around you starts to pulse. You don’t deserve Sal You don’t deserve Larry You don’t deserve You don’t deserve You don’t deserve you don’t deserve-

The world was quiet as you woke up, the distorted sounds of the dream halting in an instant. Outside the sun was just starting to rise but still you found yourself unable to move from the nightmare. You took a few slow breaths and began to relax back into your bed, reassuring yourself that it was only a dream.

You don’t deserve-

No, you weren’t going to think about it. You were not going to let some stupid dream tell you what you did or didn’t deserve.

Sal deserves better. You claim to like him yet kiss his best friend.

‘Shut up.’ you think to yourself. ‘I’m allowed to move on!’

You spent the next hour trying to get back to sleep, but ended up tossing and turning instead until you gave up and made your way to the living room. You laid down on the couch and turned on the tv in the hopes that some cartoons would help you turn off your mind.

The couch still smells like Larry.

It took you three minutes to find some air conditioner to make the couch smell like gingerbread. That turned out to be a small mistake when the scent was too overpowering. Giving up on laying around you started putting away all the decorations that you had brought over from the previous night and having some breakfast.

By this point it was 9 am, and you dared to glance at your phone for the first time since you woke up. You didn’t know if you were hoping that Larry would text you or not.

There were no direct messages, but there were a few in the group chat.

ToddFace: Thanks for inviting us to the party, Sal!

SallyFace: glad you and neil could make it!

AshleyFace: Jamie had fun too. Shes looking forward to seeing you all again

SallyFace: lol glad we didn’t scare anyones date off

Had anything with Larry not happened last night, you would have thrown in a “Sal you could never scare me off ;)” but instead you closed the chat. No reason to make things harder on yourself than it already was.

So many times you found yourself staring at individual conversations with your friends. So many times you considered reaching out to talk but you faltered each time. It had never been hard for you to reach out to a friend before this whole mess with Sal and Larry so why was it hard now? You used to pride yourself on letting your friends know when you were hurt or confused or just needed to vent but it felt impossible right now.

The rest of the day went by with nothing to report. There was some scattered small talk in the group about holiday plans, Christmas lists, inside jokes, and questioning about what would be the best way to sneak snacks into a movie theater with increasingly weird food. All good distractions until you found yourself sucked into a computer game that lasted you until bed.

...

Sunday came with your parents waking you up with bright and happy smiles on their faces telling you to get packed because you were all going to the old lake house!

A feeling of excitement and unease spread over you. On one hand, you loved going to that lake house with your parents. After spending so much time moving around as a kid and teen, that lake house was the one consistent place you could go that would be unchanged.

On the other, there was no wifi in the house and even with unlimited data, the signal was spotty at best and non-existent at worst. You’d be cut off from your friends for the next two weeks. It would be after Christmas that you’d see them again. You wouldn’t even really get a chance to say goodbye to them either.

But this is what you wanted, right? A chance to get away from everything to really think things out. You pulled your suitcase and started shoving clothes haphazardly into it. Not like you really needed to dress nice to be around your parents. It’d be two weeks of board games, decorating yet ANOTHER tree, carols, eggnog, and every other cheesy Christmas cliche your parents could think of.

Still though, you grabbed your laptop and charger. When your parents were making kissy faces at each other, this could be a good time to catch up on all those games you’d been meaning to play. Maybe even watch some movies or-

Your phone dinged twice, alerting you to two messages from Sal and Larry and your heart jumped slightly. No, you needed to calm down. It was just the group chat and they’re just shit posting.

It was not the group that.

LarryFace: hey I got some free time today, wanna hang?

SallyFace: So it’s been a while since we’ve got to see each other one on one. Are you busy today?

You could almost laugh at how absurd this whole had become. Why is it that every time you wanted to clear your head, these two managed to have the worst possible timing. It was almost a blessing that your parents came home just to whisk you off on a four hour drive to the middle of nowhere.

You responded to Larry first.

BlankFace: Hey sorry I can’t. My parents are actually taking me to the lake house for a few weeks

LarryFace: oh that’s a bummer. Any idea when youll be back?

BlankFace: Not til after Christmas, looks like.

LarryFace: wanna hang out when you get back?

BlankFace: It’s a date-

You delete the last message, changing your mind.

BlankFace: Sounds like a plan!

Your direct your attention to Sal’s message, hesitating on how you want to approach it. He hadn’t asked to hang out one on one since you two talked things out. There was a slight pang in your chest that you wished so badly would go away. What was it about Sal that was so hard to get over? He wasn’t your first crush, or even the first guy to turn you down.

BlankFace: I’m really sorry, I wish I could but my parents are taking me on vacation for the next few weeks and I’ll be out of town til after Christmas.

SallyFace: They’re taking you today?

BlankFace: Yeah, you know how they are. Overly spontaneous during the holidays. I’m packing now.

SallyFace: Do you want any help?

You typed and deleted the word yes. There was an insistent thumping in your chest, telling you to say yes but you pushed it back. If you saw him right now, after making up with him and making out with Larry, you were sure that you’d end up saying or doing something you shouldn’t.

BlankFace: I’m almost done, thanks though!

You grabbed your backpack and dumped it on the floor before shoving your toiletries in it. Then you reached under your bed and grabbed a shoe box and fitting it into your bag. You flipped through the binder that was in your backpack and pulled out some of its contents, shoving them into a side pocket.

SallyFace: When are you leaving?

“Are you done packing? You’re mother and I are ready to go when you are!” you dad called from the living room.

“Almost done! Give me two seconds!” you replied, shoving your chargers into your backpack, and grabbing your headphones.

BlankFace: Now.

Within moments you were in the backseat of the car as it pulled out of Addison’s designated parking lot. Your headphones were in, but before your music kicked on, you swore you heard something.

Turning behind you, Sal was running after the car before he seemed to run out of breath and wave at you. You waved back, watching his figure grow smaller in the distance. A few months ago he had been a few inches shorter than you, but looking at him now, had he grown a bit? What had you really missed out on in those embarrassing months after the failed date?

‘He came to say goodbye.’ you thought to yourself as his figure disappeared. ‘He came to say goodbye and I snubbed him because I’m still a coward.’

The early morning was a good excuse to lean against the cool window and pretend to sleep. You covered yourself up with the blanket that your parents kept in the car during the cold months and allowed a few tears to escape your eyes.

When did you become someone who couldn’t face their own feelings? A few months ago you had always been so honest with everyone about everything for the most part. Or maybe, that was a lie. Did all that flirting with Sal really count as the truth? Thinking back, you never did have a chance to really say how you felt about him, even as a friend.

Guess you weren’t as mature as you thought. Maybe you just always hid the big truths with smaller, flashier truths.

SallyFace: see u when u get back. I’ll miss u.

‘I already miss you.’

...

It was late afternoon when your parents pulled into the driveway of the small lake house. You’d lost signal a while ago but you’d had it long enough to tell the group chat that you were gone for a bit and that you’d miss out on the next few weeks. Ashley promised to send memes by snail mail, and Todd said to have fun.

The lack of electronic entertainment wasn’t a big deal for the next few hours as you and your parents set up decorations and going out to chop down the tree with your dad.

“So, why did we decorate the apartment as much as we did when we were gonna have Christmas here?” you asked as you untangled string lights.

“Because the holidays should be celebrated in different ways!” said your dad, wrestling with getting the tree to stand straight. “At home we can have a flashy Christmas but here we can be away from it all and just enjoy the simple things!”

You weren’t sure if that was a real answer, but you had no reason to say no to it.

“Tomorrow I think we’ll turn on the fireplace.” mused your mom. “Yes, and we can roast chestnuts and marshmallows. And maybe if you’re good, Santa will come and leave an early gift!”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Though your parents had given you the “Santa isn’t real” talk many years ago, they still liked to believe in the spirit of the holiday to the fullest. You wondered what was it about your parents' relationship that made everything so happy? Normally, you ignored it whenever they started going on and on about how in love they were but after what happened with Sal and Larry, you couldn’t help but wonder; what’s it mean to be in such a loving relationship?

That night after dinner, you decided to ask them. The three of you sat around playing a card game, when you finally managed to spit it out.

“Mom, dad?” you started. “How did you two first know that you wanted to date each other?”

Your dad looked a little surprised. “Well, it all started on the first weekend of December a little over twenty years ago- I saw your mom standing in the park and-”

“‘-Said to yourself “that’s the woman I’m going to marry’. Then you took a chance and asked her on a date and you both went dancing a five star hotel and proposed that very night.” you finished. “I know that, you’ve told me the story a million times but... what really happened?”

He smiled at you. “I guess you are a little too old for fairy tales aren’tcha, kid?” you nodded.

“I was lost.” your mother explained. “It was cold and it was miserable and it was raining- not snowing. I was supposed to check into a hotel for a business meeting that evening but I couldn’t figure out where it was, when your father approached me.”

He took her hand. “She looked like she was having a rough day, so I offered to walk her where she needed to be. Turns out It was at the hotel I was working for at the time.”

“I had graduated college a year before, and your father was working his way through trade school.” your mom added.

“Even half drenched and frazzled, I still thought you were beautiful.”

“I thought you were cute enough for a bellhop.” they both laughed.

“I did ask her out though, the next day. I was clocking out and she was about to leave and-”

“I asked you out, dear.” your mother gently corrected. “I asked if you wanted to grab coffee.”

“And your mother, the charmer, asked me out. She swept me off my feet and was enchanting and funny and wonderful and-”

“Dad. Please.”

“Right, sorry. She was just really something special. Still is, of course! But our first date was us sitting in a hole-in-the-wall cafe, decorated for Christmas with the snow falling outside.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“So how did you know that you wanted to see each other?” you asked. “How did you know it was going to last?”

“We didn’t.” your mother explained, honestly. “We saw each other once, and then wanted to see each other again, and we kept up that pattern until we realized that we always wanted to see each other.”

“Is that what love is?” you asked quietly.

“It’s what it means to us.” your father said, looking your mom and for a moment you didn’t see your parents. You saw two people twenty years younger and madly in love.

“I think I like that story better than the fairy tale.” you admit.

“I wouldn’t trade our story for anything in the world.” your dad said. “Now, does this sudden interest in asking about dating and love have anything to do with... anything?”

“I like Sal.” you admitted finally.

“A fine young man! Very polite though I do wish he’d let us take a peak under that mask.”  Your dad said, taking a sip of his drink.

“It’s a prosthetic, dear. He needs it.” your mom chided gently.

“Sal doesn’t like me.” you added.

“Now I can hurt him for you, though it would be a long drive back.”

“Dad no.”

The floodgates opened at that moment, and you told them everything. About how long you’ve had feelings for him, the date, his face (dad tried to press for details about what you saw, but your mom shushed him), and finally about Larry kissing you. You fudged some details about how much kissing went down, saying it was just a goodnight kiss rather than how far it went.

“I just don’t know what to do.” you said. “I’m so confused and I don’t know how I feel about either of them anymore. I don’t understand how this can be so easy for some people.”

“You’re father and I did get lucky, but that doesn’t mean we both didn’t have our share of past relationships that weren’t messy and confusing.” your mother said, handing you a mug of hot chocolate.

“Lord knows I messed up plenty of good relationships before I met your mother. The main thing you need to do to have any relationship work is to build a strong foundation of trust and communication.”

“If you feel like you don’t know what to say, maybe write them each a letter explaining how you feel.” your mom suggested. “You always did like to pass notes in class.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling a little. “That’s not a bad idea.” you admitted. “Maybe I will.”

“You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Your father said. “But if you’re going to be kissing anymore boys- now I do know that I want grandkids or at least grand puppies someday- but you know the condoms are in the-”

“WELL GOODNIGHT MOM AND DAD, GREAT TALK. SEE YOU IN THE MORNING.” you suddenly stood up and rushed into your room. As gross as your dad could be, the talk had made you feel better, just a little.

You sat at the small desk in the corner and turned on the lamp. Reaching into your backpack you pulled out the shoe box that you had crammed in there and opened it. Your mom was right, you did love to pass notes in school. You loved it so much that you tried your best to keep every single one that had been passed between you and your friends, carefully dated, folded, and set in this very shoe box for safe keeping.

In this box was every memory you had since moving to Addison Apartments; notes between you and Ashley in art, scribbles and doodles from Larry, old tests that Todd helped you study for with encouraging comments in the margins, and misheard lyrics from Sal.

Sal and Larry had been fighting over lyrics to a metal song they had been listening to, each hearing different words through the fried vocals of the lead singer. It had become a game that they’d pass the headphones around to everyone at the table to try and decipher what was being sung. Each time, Todd would look up the song online and announce who had come the closest. Usually everyone was wrong.

There were even a few pictures in the box from Ashley’s old Polaroid; everyone wearing their hair (as best they could) in pigtails on April Fool’s day, Larry and Sal at Homecoming with Sal wearing a stunning yellow dress, all of the boys on top of each other in a dog pile, Maple painting Ashley’s nails, and one of you and Sal.

This was one you hadn’t even shown Sal. In the photo, he was playing a game on his Gear Boy and was attempting to explain how to get through the level. In that moment though, you weren’t looking at the screen, you were looking at him. Ashley had managed to capture you looking so softly at him that you had to make sure that he never ever saw it until you were married with children or puppies.

You never did beat that level.

Looking through all of this, you grabbed a few sheets of paper and started writing.

Sal Fisher, today is the day that I’m going to tell you everything and then I’ll be able to move on.

Next Chapter

[bamby0304]

Spanner in the Works- Ch.5

Series Masterlist

Summary: Your car breaks down, leaving you stranded in a small town. Waiting for your car to get the all clear, you find yourself getting closer to Sam Winchester, the handsome mechanic working on it. Will he be able to break down your walls? Or is this just a pit stop before you continue to run?

A/N: If you want to bring Sam fics alive… check out the scent Sam from @scentsfromthebunker!!

Warnings: Fluff. Angst.

Bamby

The bell above the door chimed as Mary opened it. She took a step to the side and smiled as she gestured for you to walk in ahead of her. Fiddling with your fingers in front of you, you stepped into the diner and then waited before Mary led you over to a booth.

She was a very bubbly woman, so bright and happy. Her smile had never faltered as she drove down the road and into town. She’d greeted each person you came across, with a nod or a wave. She showed everyone with the same kindness she’d shown you.

Not many people had treated you like she did. There were a select few in your past, but the majority of people who crossed your path were entitled, overbearing, rude, dismissive, impatient. Your timid nature hardly brought out the best in people.

“So, what do you want for breakfast, dear?” she asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

Glancing down at your menu, you scanned the offered items before picking something simple and safe. “Coffee and oatmeal is fine.”

Mary’s jaw almost hit the table. “Oatmeal? On our girls’ day out? Y/N, you can have anything you want. Whatever you don’t eat, we’ll take home. Don’t feel like you have to hold back… for any reason.”

Her meaning was clear. She could tell you were trying not to be any more of a burden than you already thought you were. Getting your car fixed, accommodation… taking food from her would just add to your list of things you had to repay.

“Tell you what,” her smile returned, “I’m ordering pancakes. With bacon. And eggs. We’ll get two orders of that and whatever is left over, if you don’t want it, will go to the boys. I bet they’d love some crispy bacon.”

Coming up with no reason to argue, you gave a tentative nod. “Okay.”

“Perfect.” She beamed.

Barely a moment passed before a young red headed woman appeared by your table. “Mrs Winchester!” She looked down at Mary with shining eyes. “I didn’t know you were coming in this morning.”

Mary turned her smile to the young woman. “I didn’t know either. Sam sprung a surprise on me this morning.” She gestured to you. “Charlie, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Charlie, she owns the diner.”

Charlie appeared to be around your age, early twenties and all her life ahead of her. You could tell she was a bundling ball of energy by the way she smiled down at you, all bright teeth and crinkling eyes. It amazed you that someone so close you your age could be so different. So successful in life and comfortable in her own skin.

“Hi!” Charlie offered you her hand. “Not every day we get new people in town,” she noted as you took her hand and let her shake yours enthusiastically. “Don’t let appearances fool you, this isn’t just a diner. We’ve got a comic book store in the basement and all the free wifi a nerd could dream of. The password is on the back of every menu. Speaking of which,” she pulled a notepad out, “what can I get you today?”

You sat there and waited as Mary rattled off your order. Charlie gave a short nod and another smile, promising the food wouldn’t be long, before she hurried off. Once alone, Mary turned back to you.

“Charlie and Sam were classmates. Best of friends. Practically inseparable.” She smiled fondly.

As she went on to change the subject, you only half listened to her story about the pair’s childhood. The rest of you was suddenly focused on the thought of this red headed wonder woman and Sam. Their inseperable bond. How deep did that bond go?

You felt an extra layer of insecurity settle inside you as you sat there, picturing the two together. All you could think about was Sam and Charlie. Holding hands. Smiling. Laughing. Leaning on each other. Sharing jokes. Sharing food. Sharing a bed…

“Y/N?”

Jostled out of your thoughts once more, you looked to Mary with wide eyes. “Sorry… lost my train of thought.”

“It’s all right, dear.” Her smile turned down a notch, going from bubbly to motherly. “You know, I would love to hear more about you.”

“Me?” You couldn’t hide the shock from your voice and face.

She nodded, chuckling lightly. “Yes. You. I’m not going to push or press, but it’s clear you’re a very nervous person, Y/N. I want you to open up, in your own time, and become comfortable with us. We’re here for you, and I want you to believe that.”

You couldn’t remember the last time someone had wanted to get to know you… you couldn’t remember the last time someone cared enough to want to listen.

“I, um… I was a librarian,” you started, offering something small to start. That tiny dollop of information was more than you’d given anyone in years.

Mary’s face lit up all over again. “A librarian? You must love books!”

“Yes.” A smile of your own, albeit small in comparison to hers, tugged on your lips. “I wanted to be a writer.”

“Wanted?” She watched you carefully, smile toning down once more. “You don’t want to write anymore?”

Shrugging, you found your gaze falling to the table in front of you. “It’s had to be a writer when you don’t have any original or exciting ideas.”

“Doesn’t mean you should give up your dreams, dear,” she countered just as Charlie reappeared with your food.

“Here we go!” The redhead plopped the plates in front of you both. “I’m jot it down on the garage’s bill. Make the boys pay for your breakfast.” She gave you and Mary a wink. “You two have a great day. It was really nice meeting you. Hope I’ll see ya again.” She beamed down at you before heading off to go back to work.

“She’s really nice,” you noted, watching her retreating form.

Mary nodded, grabbing her knife and fork. “She really is,” she agreed, not catching the sad and jealous glint in your eyes.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Charlie… more you didn’t like the fact she was this incredible person, and you were, well… you.

Mary had shown you most of the town. You’d stuck to the main street for the most part, considering that’s where all the stores were, but you did venture out a little.

She showed you where the doctor’s office was, and where the library was. She took you to the school and pointed some spots that were significant to Sam and Dean back when they were students. She showed you the park, and showed you the flower patch she and Sam had planted one mother’s day. She even took you to the church where she and John were married.

It was clear Mary was very proud of her home and her family.

You also didn’t miss the fact that everywhere you went, people were always stopping to say hi. Apparently, the Winchester family were very popular.

By the end of the day, you’d met more people than you’d ever known in your entire life time- which wasn’t much, to be honest. Everyone was pretty welcoming as Mary introduced you to them. Just like Mrs Winchester herself, they were all smiles and manners.

It was very overwhelming, so when you were just about ready to crash by lunch time, it wasn’t really a surprise.

Parking the truck outside of the garage, Mary reached into the back to grab the bag of food she’d picked up from Charlie’s. “Come on, dear. Let’s get some food into these boys.” Her smile was still plastered on her lips as she got out of the car.

Dragging yourself out, you followed her with your arms in front of you, hugging yourself close as you kept your gaze to the ground. Your social batteries had well and truly run out, and all you wanted to do now was sleep and recharge.

Walking into the noisy garage, you stay two to three steps behind Mary as she headed right over to John.

“Hey, honey.” She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.

The gruff man softened under his wife’s touch, leaning in for a second kiss. She chuckled and complied, pressing her lips to his cheek one more time.

“Thanks.” John took the bag of food from Mary and turned to the rest of the garage. “Grubs here, boys!”

The noise in the garage mostly stopped, save for the sound of some classic rock softly playing on a radio somewhere. Sam and Dean appeared from behind cars, all covered in grease and sweat.

Your eyes went wide and mouth went dry at the sight of Sam.

His overalls were hanging around his hips, the sleeves tied together to hold it in place. The tank top he wore must have been white once, but was now a dirty grey and covered in much. He had grease and oil splotches all over him, with his skin covered in a sheen of sweat.

As soon as he spotted you, his face lit up. “Hey.”

“H-hi.”

Dean reached John first, reaching into the bag his father offered and pulling out a sub. His eyes quickly turned to you as he ripped open the paper wrapped around the food. Watching you, he took a large bite of his food that made his cheeks puff out.

You squirmed under his gaze, looking away and trying to shift to make yourself disappear behind Mary slightly.

Sam came over to his father and brother then, give Dean a hard punch to the arm. “You’re freaking her out.”

“Noh mah fal she so skiddish,” Dean tried to say as he chomped on the food in his mouth.

“Dean!” Mary glared at her oldest son. “Manners! Don’t talk with a mouth full of food. And be nice to Y/N. She’s our guest.”

“Listen to your mother, boy,” John warned.

Looking to both of his parents, Dean sighed before dropping his gaze back onto you. He took a moment to finish his mouth full of food before saying, “Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Sam argued, coming over to stand in front of you, blocking your view of his brother. “Dean’s a dick. It’s just his personality. You get used to it.” He smiled down at you, his eyes searching yours as you looked up at him. “Have you had lunch?”

You quickly shook your head. “I have a sandwich.”

Turning to his parents, Sam reached out for the bag. Without missing a beat, John handed your sandwich over. Once it was in his hand, Sam looked back down at you. “Wanna go eat on the truck with me?”

Without your consent, your head began to nod before your mouth followed its lead. “O-okay.”

His smile grew as he gestured for you to walk with him, and again, you found your body moving without your mind agreeing. It seemed despite your social batteries running low, you still wanted to be with Sam.

Bamby

[ijustreallylovezebras]

What Would They Say Pt 10

Pairing: mob!Tom x Reader

Summary: The reader is a bartender at a bar owned by Tom Holland - the leader of the most feared mob in London. Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine

Requested: No

Tom’s POV

She wasn’t okay. Three days had passed since we rescued her from Jared’s warehouse and she had yet to speak a word to anyone. She would not allow anyone other than Harrison and I to get near to her and Paddy seemed to feel more guilt every time that she flinched away from him.

She spent all of her time on bed-rest in a spare room that we had adapted to ensure that it had all of the equipment the doctor would need to make sure that Y/N made a full recovery. I didn’t like to leave her side, worried that someone would break in and take her away from me again. Not that they could, no one knew the address of this house anyway.

I had left Jared to my father and the twins to get as much information out of him as possible, he was in one of our warehouses, as apposed to his girlfriend, Jess, who was being kept in the basement of my home, all of us unsure what to do with her.

I hated Jess with every fibre of my being, she was Y/N’s best friend, her only female friend, and she had betrayed her. We had yet to tell Y/N how Jared’s men had managed to locate her little apartment, but Harrison and I were fairly sure she must have figured it out herself, seeing as though she had been tortured by Jared himself for information.

Information she had refused to give up.

That was the conclusion my mother came to when we were discussing her silence.

“But, love, didn’t you say that Jared admitted Y/N had told him nothing?” Mum asked me as I walked down the hallway from my office, which my mother had been waiting outside of.

“Yes,” 

“Then what if she was scared of telling him something that may but you into harms way by giving him your address or letting something slip so she just... stopped talking,” I paused, feeling my heart break at her words.

“That does sound like Y/N, doesn’t it?” I ask with a sigh, hating that she was put into harms way just because I trusted her. “What do I do, Mum?” I ask, feeling like a small boy again, in need of his mother’s comfort. 

Mum is quick to wrap me in a hug, squeezing me tight to her body and it felt as though she was trying to piece me back together. She never wanted me to take over the mob after Dad, she wanted me to have a normal life outside of it, not turn into... whatever kind of monster being the leader of a mob had made me. 

She wanted me to have a normal life with a girl just like Y/N, who I loved and who loved me, even if Y/N had yet to tell me. I told her every day, though, how much I loved her and, each time I said the words, it did seem to put her slightly more at ease.

“You just need to make her feel safe again, Tom,” Mum told me and I nodded, trying desperately to stop tears from falling, I had refused to cry at all throughout the whole ordeal, needing to be strong for Y/N, for Paddy and for Harrison and the twins, who were equally torn up by Y/N’s disappearance. But here, right now, being comforted by my mum as I was visiting my girlfriend who had been harmed so badly both mentally and physically because of her relationship with me, I felt myself break.

“Thanks, Mum,” I mumbled, sniffing and I tried to move away from her to wipe my tears away as discreetly as possible but Mum was having none of it, pulling me back in tighter and rubbing my back as she rocked me back and forth.

“It’s okay to cry, Tom. You love her,” Mum whispers but I shake my head.

“Can’t let my men see me like this,” I disagree, pulling away a few seconds later, coughing and sniffing and wiping away the final few tears. Mum gives me a sad smile.

“You’re a good boy, even if you don’t see it yourself,” she tells me, reaching up and patting my shoulder. I gave a smile back.

“I’m going to go and...” I gestured down the hallway towards Y/N’s door and Mum nods, standing back and allowing me to leave and go to comfort my girlfriend.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my suit trousers, walking with my head ducked down the hallway to the door to my room, which I opened. Harrison was there, as he always was when I couldn’t be and Tessa was lying at the foot of her bed as well, sleeping, as she was often found.

“Hey,” I greet the two of them and they both turn towards me, smiles on both of their faces and Y/N’s seems to grow when she sees me and she holds her arms out for a hug, to which I happily comply before sitting on the edge of her bed, resting a hand on Tessa’s fur. 

“I was telling her about the time we had the waterfight when we were younger and Nikki got so annoyed that we had gotten water everywhere in the house,” Harrison tells me and I laugh at the memory.

“That was a good day,” I agree. “Pads was so young, man,” I remember and Harrison nods, letting out a breath.

“It’s weird thinking about how long ago that was,” he says and I nod.

“Ten, twelve years?” I suggest and Harrison nods.

“Must be,” Harrison’s phone starts to ring and he pulls it out, showing me Harry’s contact photo flashing up on the screen. “I should probably take this,” I nod, looking at my phone too.

“Yeah, I’ve got a couple of missed calls too, actually,” 

“You stay here, I’ll see what he wants,” I nod, moving to sit on the seat that he had just vacated and Y/N’s eyes follow me as I move about the room.

“How are you today, love? You okay?” I ask quietly, taking her hand in mine and giving her a soft smile when she nods and I bring her hand up to my lips to press a kiss against. “Apparently you had a nightmare last night?” Y/N looks away and I give a sad sigh, moving to kiss her cheek. “I’ll stay in here tonight with you if you want, Princess?” I offer but Y/N looks unsure and I can practically hear her thoughts. I don’t want to be a bother. “It would be no trouble, Princess, I love spending time with you no matter what,” at that Y/N gives me an unsure nod of agreement and I smile widely. “You must be so bored here though, with nothing to do other than listen to Haz and me,” Y/N smiles and it feels as though I just won the lottery. “Do you want me to go and get some books for you to read?” I offer and Y/N gives a little nod and I kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back in two minutes, love,” I promise, standing up.

I’ve taken no more than two steps when I hear it. 

Hear her.

“Tommy,” her voice is hoarse and scratchy from not being used for weeks but it still stops me in my tracks, throwing me off guard despite how quiet it is. “L-l-love y-you,”

I turn around and beam at her, retreating my two steps and pressing my lips against her forehead again. She’s staring at her fingers, clearly embarrassed and her cheeks flush red when I kiss her but there’s the beginnings of a smile on her face and I’m just so proud of her.

“I love you too, Princess,”  I tell her, “and I’ll be back in less than two minutes with some books for you to read,” I promise, unable to stop myself from smiling as I walk away, feeling a skip in my step.

My happiness lasts the entire time I’m in the library and walk back to the room but my bubble is burst when I meet Harrison on the route back to Y/N’s room.

“What’s happened?” I ask, noticing his severe expression.

“Jared had Y/N’s room recorded while she was being tortured, in case she let anything slip and they needed to go over it again to make certain,” he tells me, his face set like stone. My fingers tighten involuntarily on the books in my hands. “Harry wanted to know if you wanted to watch them with them or if they should look at them at all,”

“We should watch them, shouldn’t we?” I ask, letting out a breath.

“Just in case she did say anything - not that I think that she did!” He adds quickly at my glare I shoot at him, and I sigh, nodding. “But you don’t have to watch, Tom, they wanted to know what you thought they should do,” I sigh, letting out a breath.

“I’ll think about it and get back to them,” I decide and Harrison nods.

“What were you looking so happy about anyway?” Even knowing what Harrison just told me, the memory of Y/N speaking again, speaking to tell me she loved me, still manages to bring a smile to my face.

“Y/N spoke,” I tell him and Harrison looks overjoyed.

“Seriously?” I nod. “What did she say?”

“Told me she loved me,” I grin and Harrison claps me on the back.

“That’s fantastic, man!” 

“Mixed news today, I guess,” I sigh and Harrison nods, his smile becoming sadder.

“Focus on the good, though, that’s all we’ve got at the moment,” 

I nod before gesturing at the books.

“Told her I’d be back in less than two minutes so she’ll be worrying so I better go,” Harrison laughs and nods, moving out of my way.

“I’m going to go to her apartment later, by the way, to pick up some of her stuff,” 

“Good idea, she’ll like having some of her stuff with her, might make her feel safer,”

“And safe is what she needs right now,” Harrison agrees grimly.

Part Eleven

The tag list for this is temporarily closed as I’m away for a couple of weeks (this post has been scheduled) and so have no wifi so I cannot add you for the moment, I hope that that’s not too much of an inconvenience :)

WWTS TAG LIST

@its-tchalla @fijiangecko @hawaiiantozier @hollandsmuse @stunbarchennyetomlinson @fangirlminds @embracingtom @randomnesss-of-fandomness   @failingclassesinmygucciglasses​ @slowly-gently @i-love-superhero @littletinydevil @randomlytd @emyhonny @casualprincess77@@pignolithecookie @clatite @voidkeery @gracethegeek9902@neverstoppeddreaming @safetypin-inspace @therealwatermelon @book-of-blue004 @yourwonderbelle @electraheart-3174​ @chirpy-bird-woman@finnethdogsoft @greenarrowhead @acociara  @bishoplhemmingbaes @greenarrowhead @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @marvel-th @mac-demarco1 @bluetink2002 @2dreamcatcher8 @omg-i-am-lord-voldemort @practicallylivesonline @p-writes @amren-rhyssecond

MARVEL TAG LIST

@vineisdeadiwishiwas @bodaciousbabygirl  @sea040561

[luminaxandra]

Here's another #RichDekuAu thing

- Deku's pet Informatica can split into 2 (Let's call em Inform(Info) and Mathica(Math)) Info usually goes with Izuku and Math usually goes with Katsuki

-These two are the go to Eyes in the sky, Info likes to go around the Midori Inc like a Flying Surveilance drone while Math likes to perch on Katsuki's shoulder looking at people creepily. It makes them feel tingly in their motherboards (awz).

- The Midori Inc has another way to make money other than information brokers. Hero vs Villain (Hero vs Hero and Villain vs Villain works too) Matched arena fights. They do this on the basement floor thats as big as a small town and as high as a Airplane can go.

-In these matched fights Heros and Villains are required to wear safety bracelets, they will be strapped securely around either their Wrists or their necks anywhere you can find a pulse easily. These willl ensure that there will be no heavy casualties or deaths inside the arena. If anyone dies in the arenatheir families will be given a heafty condolense insurance money+sponsorship for any children under the household name.

-The safety bracelets will monitor their pulse and blood pressure from time to time and their health will be shown as Health bars, if their health reaches low or if the refree deems the contestant unfit to continue (ie excessive bleeding) they will automatically lose by default, another way to lose is to admit defeat but that rarely happens. people can bet for who they think will win and Midori Inc will get 20% of all earnings. And if you lose the bet Midori inc will provide a 5% Refund.

- Every Hero and Villain are obligated to sign a Waiver + an agreement not to bring personal grudges into the arena all fights must be fought fairly (in accordance to the rules) and with caution for breaking the rules will black list you from Midori Inc INDEFINITELY.

-Viewers can watch the show and show support by donating to their Heroes/Villains (Usually Villains who join are Retired/ seeking a good fight with no risks) Midori Inc will not take any of such earnings other than Show Revenue. Which they will take 90% of the 10% will be split To each opponent by half.

- Allmight has participated in a special episode for the arena where anyone and everyone who wants to fight with no huge risks, that episode has over 10M views in the first week. Allmight did not take any of the earnings instead donated them to Orphanages who needed them.

- there is also The Maze in the third upper basement floor where Detectives and Policemen like to participate in where they work together with and without heroes to solve hypothetical Cases with very realistic props. A lot of people like this show. Midori Inc splits all profits 50/50 for this show since the detectives and Policemen come not to gain fame or anything but just to have fun with no real consequences. Tsukauchi comes by sometimes (He's a crowd favorite ;D)

- The second upper Basement is a place where Heroes, Villains, Detectives and Policemen alike can take a rest and enjoy themselves while they wait for their turn on the Arena/Maze, they can get free deserts and food with some complimentary drinks to highten the moral.

- Katsuki likes to appear A LOT on the Arena he's not a certified hero YET, but its a great way to train. (The fans love him (u gotta admit he has the looks))

- Endewhor- I mean Endeavore has joined once or twice it was eh.

- Aizawa instead likes to part in the Maze. He thinks the puzzles are interesting.

-The Arena and Mazes also have Teen Sections where Hero/Villain to bes can spar in and be watched by hundred to test their metal and if some are lucky they can catch a glimpse of the green haired big boss.

-If any trainees look promising they will most probably sponsored by Midori Inc, all their support items and basic neccesities will be funded by Midori Inc, Hitoshi Shinsou has a sponsorship and the Midori Inc has been faithfully supplying his gear ever since (Katsuki's sponsorship is a no brainer)

- Izuku watches the matches Religiously he loves them (Katsuki was the one to think of the idea tho, at first he just wanted to spar and train more so he jokingly suggested an arena "WOW KAACHAN! That's an Incredible Idea" goes to talk logistics with his mom " Wait no Izu-chan.... ugh god fucking dammit"

- The building also has Private Training rooms where you can be assigned your best suited trainer or bring a trainer of your own. Endevore and his son have meticulously used these state of the art facilities and Shouto has his own Trainer (Who Trains him hard but within reason).

- Endevore and his Agency has tried to make contact with the Boss of the Corporation but alas the big boss is too anti social to talk with poop sty so he has to settle with the Madam. Who obviously told him to F off but continue to support the corporation with his Agency's training sessions. Which he still does.

- Shouto has "Met" (more like seen a glimpse of) Izuku but he was stopped (Blocked) midway to talk to him by Katsuki.

-It was a Cat Fight told by many.

- Izuku just wants to watch the world progress but he won't supply his tech to anyone outside the Corporation even AllMight had a hard time trying to convince Izuku to supply his Agency. (In the end Izuku did relent but only if AllMight's Agency is willing to sign the papers to merge with Midori Inc in which they reluctantly did)

- Midori Inc tech is Super si fi, You can find Lazers, Mechanical WORKING wings, Spy gadgets, multi purposed shape shifting Gloves, etc etc.

-and ALL of them have GPS's to make sure they don't go into the wrong hands, if the gps is somehow compromised the tech will Self Destruct there is no failsafe to this.

- Izuku and Katsuki like Sitting on the penthouse balcony just watching the stars

-the Midori Inc building is in fact not in the city but rather is a vast forest Island of which Midori Inc is in the process of Purchasing every inch of, they have currently succeeded in buying 80% of it with the building as its center piece. Theres a Railway connecting the building with the city as to make commute easier.

- Katsuki travels via Private Jet to school since its slightly far away, the first time he arrived everyone thought he was some kind of celeb and others recognized him from The Arena fights he's somehow always won. He avoided signing a lot of Autographs that day.

- The private jet has Wifi, Bookshelves for school books and a 70inch Plasma screen Smart TV which Katsuki treats like his own baby.

- Everyone from class 1-A wants to ride the jet during the field trip but Katsuki rejects saying "If you guys wanna ride my fucking Jet to My fucking house, Your gonna be riding on the roof with a loose string to keep you straped on"

-No body but him and the driver + a few robot attendants came with him back home.

-everyone else took the bus + Bullet Train there.

[seo-workshop-mcdaid-blog]

Conferences for Technical Writers

Looking for a conference to speak at or attend? There are conferences all over the world that cater to the technical communication industry. Plus there are lots of conferences related to our field where we can go and learn some crazy new skills we’d never thought to use before.

Me. Mainstage at LavaCon 2018.

This year, I’ve made it a personal goal to help colleagues get out and speak at conferences. I spent years avoiding conferences until my boss finally dragged me (kicking and screaming) onto a stage with her. Now I feel the urge to return the favor. Sure, the stage fright was (is still) awful. But my peers encouraged me and my industry listened to me. We all just want to hear your story, learn from your lessons. Everyone has something to share... And who doesn’t want an all expenses paid trip somewhere cool? 

Talking to my first couple of (victims) colleagues, it turns out that a big problem is only knowing about 1 or 2 conferences. Someone told me they’d missed the boat for LavaCon this year, so they were going to wait until next year to put in a bid. They didn’t even know about the 4 other conferences that have open calls out as I write this. 

I’m going to attempt to maintain this list and keep it up to date. Please reach out if you know of any conferences I’m missing!! Or if you want advice on submitting a proposal or prepping a talk!

General Technical Communication Conferences

These conferences are appropriate for a wide range of technical writers. 

Winter IDEAS (Jan) - I’ve spoken at this one on a panel with Dell folks. It’s an online-only conference (no video just slide share) held twice yearly. It’s sponsored by CIDM, so sometimes it’s DITA-heavy. Sometimes general. 

MEGAComm (Feb) - Yearly conference held in Israel, appropriate for techcomm, marcomm, and content managers. 

TC World India (Feb) - I’ve spoken at this one. The conference has a lot of personality. It’s the world stage version of LavaCon in that sense. The food was fabulous. The MC thinks he’s hilarious. And evening entertainment included performances and an open dance floor. Conference material focuses heavily on things technical writers can do, in addition to writing, to add value. They love things like chatbots, AR, visualizations, automation, etc.

Tekomm Spring (March) - Bilingual in German and English.

ATTW (Mar) - A little off the beaten path. This is a yearly conference by the Association of Teachers of Technical Writing

Information Energy (April) - Fancy a trip to Amsterdam anyone?

MadWorld (April) - Sponsored by MadCap Flare, but focused on content strategy.

TC Camp (April) - The technical writer’s UNconference. This camp focuses on issues, skills, challenges, and tools for technical communicators. Expect discussions instead of lectures.  

TC World China (May)

Technical Documentation Roundup (May) - New conference from the Content Wrangler.

STC Summit (May) 

Write the Docs Portland (May)

ComTecnia (May) -  Held in Italy in spring (sold yet?), this conference focuses on the latest trends in techcomm.

Evolution of TC (June) - Focused on software documentation innovations. I’ve been to this one, and am speaking at it for the first time this year. It’s a lovely time of year to visit Bulgaria, and the TC industry has exploded in Sofia over the last decade or so. You’re bound to be inspired.

Write the Docs Vilnius (June) 

Soap! (June) - An annual conference for content professionals, held in Poland.

Summer IDEAS (Jul) -  An online-only conference (no video just slide share) held twice yearly. It’s sponsored by CIDM, so sometimes it’s DITA-heavy. Sometimes general. 

Nordic Tekomm (Sept) - I’ve got a bid in for a gig here this year! I’ll let you know how the conference is if I get to attend!

Write the Docs Prague (Sept)

TCUK Conference (Sept)

CIDM Best Practices (Sept) - This is another CIDM conference, so can skew DITA. But it’s intended to be general. You can also enter to win the Inspire Award. Whose boss doesn’t like that kind of industry recognition?

LavaCon (October)  -  The focus tend to be on content strategy for techcomm. I’ve spoken at this one and it’s super fun. They have parades and storytelling and karaoke events! Call for papers is early, and it closes out fast. 

MadWorld Europe (October) - Sponsored by MadCap Flare, but focused on content strategy.

TC World (October) - This is the biggest of the Tekomm events. I’ll be putting in a proposal myself!

TechCommNZ (October) - Yeah, an annual New Zealand technical communications conference. How awesome does that sound? I can speak first hand about NZ being basically a living post card (so beautiful), but I don’t have any first hand knowledge about the conference.

ASTC (October) - Who wants a trip down under? Every year the Australian Society for TechComm puts on a conference. This could be your opportunity to get those flights to the GBR paid for. Not to mention the fabulous techcomm education you’ll be getting.   

DITA Technical Communication Conferences

XML Prague (Feb) -  A conference about XML and markup languages. DITA welcome. Oxygen attends.

CMS/DITA North America (April)

MarkUpUK (June) - A conference about XML and other markup languages. DITA welcome. Oxygen attends.

Balisage the Markup Conference (Jul) -  Another conference about XML and other markup languages. DITA welcome. Oxygen attends.

RIDE Ottawa (Sept) - A regional, single day conference from CIDM. 

DITA OT Day (Nov) - A one day conference dedicated to the DITA Open ToolKit

CMS/DITA Europe (Nov)

User Assistance Conferences

Writers UA West (March)

UA Reloaded (May) - Held in Germany and brought to you by Tekomm. This is conference aimed at bringing techcomm and UA to breakthrough heights. 

Writers UA East (October)

Content Strategy Conferences

Confab (April) - One of my favorite conferences of all time. A range of perspectives, excellent presenters, interesting presentations. Highly, highly recommend. Very competitive for speakers.

IA Conference (April) - Formerly the IA Summit, this conference is under new management after they mishandled a harassment complaint.

Marketing Conferences (that relate to us)

Content Tech Summit (April) - I’m really interested in attending this one. I bet I’d be all sorts of inspired by the technical inroads marketing is making into spaces like analytics and personalization. 

Digital Summit Series - 5 conferences throughout the year. Wide range of topics covering all aspect of customer strategies.

(A couple) SEO Conferences

Search Engine Journal keeps a humongous list of SEO Conferences. Here are two that stand out for me.

OhGMCon (April) - In a basement, no wifi, no sponsor talks. Sounds interesting...

Brighton SEO (April) - Well known conference comes to me highly recommended by people I trust and respect in the industry.

(Some) Conversational Design Conferences

Business of Bots (Feb)

Chatbot Conference (May) 

Chatbot Summit (June)

ConverCon Dublin (Oct)

[worddevdealswithml]

No Ring? No Problem

Chapter 8:

Summary:  Adrien Agreste's greatest secret is that he's the alter-ego of one of Paris' heroes, Chat Noir. His second biggest secret is that he doesn't actually have a miraculous. Not that that's going to stop him from fighting alongside Ladybug.  After all, Paris needs all the heroes it can get.

--

Chloe dropped the phone as Lady Wifi dove out of it.  A single spin around the room, and four of those circular icons like the one he’d seen in her first broadcast were up in the corners.  That was the icon for ‘recording,’ wasn’t it?

“Wh-“ Chloe had time to say, before being frozen in place.

He caught the edge of a grin on Lady Wifi’s face, and then she remembered he was there.

He dove to the side, and she missed the first swipe.  One more, though, and she was prepared, and with this backpack on, he took a lock to the foot, and suddenly found himself rooted to the ground.

“Sorry,” she said, locking up his other foot as well. “I can’t have you running around while I’m broadcasting.  Speaking of which…” She flicked out a few more record icons.  She snapped her fingers and one of them lit up.

“Good evening, Paris,” she said in her best dramatic voice, “You doubtless remember my mission statement from earlier; To bring you the truth about Ladybug.  Well,” she snapped her fingers, and a different one lit up, this one facing Chloe, “let’s talk about that.  We see here a young woman in the suit, the mask, the earrings.  A set of clothes that aren’t even available as costumes on the open market yet, though I’m sure it’s coming.”

“Now,” she said, locking Chloe’s feet in place, “the hair might seem a bit strange, but a wig, may I say, is much easier to come by than the full suit.  Who would doubt, then, that the girl beneath this mask is Ladybug?  But then, who is she?”

She looked at the icon. “Why don’t we find out?  And, just for fun…”  She unfroze her

“-at!?” finished Chloe, and jumped, or, tried to jump, back at the villain’s sudden appearance in front of her.

“Good evening, Ladybug,” said Lady Wifi, “I just thought you’d like to be around for your unmasking, considering what happened this morning.”

“Excuse me!?  This morning!?  What are you talking about?”

A record zipped over and lit up.

“Oh right, that happened when you weren’t being Ladybug,” said Lady Wifi, “We’ll talk about that after we’ve got this mask off.”  She grabbed the mask despite Chloe’s best attempts to avoid her hand, and pulled the mask away. She mock-gasped, “Chloe Bourgeois?”

Chloe didn’t seem to have any proper response to this.

“Now,” said Lady Wifi, “an interview may be in order.”

The door to the balcony slammed open hard enough to crack the glass.  “EXCUSE ME!” said Ladybug, the, he breathed a sigh of relief, real Ladybug, “You-  You just- I-  CHLOE BOURGEOIS!?  That’s really what you think of me!?”

Lady Wifi seemed taken aback.

A different record lit up.  “Well, Paris, it looks like things are getting interesting.”

Adrien, standing silently, was marveling at how relieved it was possible to be while unable to move because of a villain.

Chloe wasn’t Ladybug, but Ladybug was here.

And then Lady Wifi froze her.

“Alright, Paris,” she said, “time for a quick reset, as we find out who the real Ladybug really-

Adrien didn’t do ball sports, but Lady Wifi was a big enough target to work with.  His backpack hit her squarely in the back, and she stumbled forward.  Her hand, already stretched out, grazed the stop icon on Ladybug, and it pulled away.

Ladybug blinked, as she realized what had happened, and then jumped back as Lady Wifi came up with a vengeance.

She didn’t have a choice but to retreat under the barrage of icons.  There was a crash from below, the sound of a window smashing.

“You,” she said, running after her, and then stopping.  Ladybug seemed to already be out of reach.

“I had her,” she said, turning to face Adrien, “I had her, and YOU,” she had the backpack now and had her arm wound up to-

A shadow crossed her face, and her arm silently shook, as if she was fighting the impulse to throw it at him.  Then, with a suddenness that surprised him, she threw it straight through the window, off the balcony, hurtling towards to pavement below.

She sighed, almost a growl, and looked at him.

“You know what?” she said, “you want to help her so much?” she paused for an instant as if to let the question sink in, “you’re going to watch her lose.”  She flicked an icon, this one with the ‘play’ symbol, out into the air in front of him.

“Hah!” said Chloe, “As if.  Even without her sidekick, Ladybug is still far too much for you to handle.”

Lady Wifi took a breath. “First, if he hadn’t thrown a bookbag at my head, I’d have already won, and second,” she froze Chloe.

“Enjoy the show,” she spat at Adrien, walking out of the room.

He watched her go, and then waited.

“Okay,” he said aloud, softly.

So, he was trapped in place. His suit was a hundred or so feet down, along with his baton, and Ladybug was facing off against a villain who only needed one hit to reveal her identity to the world, and take her Miraculous to Hawkmoth.

Well, this was fantastic, and he definitely needed to get to her if he wanted to…

His foot was glued to the ground.

Except… He could still wiggle his toes.  Obviously, that wasn’t saying much, but if he could wiggle his toes, then there was some movement left, right?

He shifted his foot, and found that it moved inside his shoe.

He planted his other foot on the heel of his shoe and pulled.

His foot inched up, and then something snagged.

He looked down.

“Oh no,” he groaned. Apparently, whatever was touching the symbol was glued to it.  The symbol was touching the hem of his pants.

“No, no, no, no.”  He sighed.  Chloe’s eyes were open, but she hadn’t moved.

So… What was he supposed to do once he was out?  He’d said all he really needed was the mask, but that had been a joke. Besides, he didn’t even have a mask, and unless Chloe had a Chat Noir suit in… In her room…

He blinked.

She’d made herself a Ladybug suit.  She clearly thought of him as less than Ladybug, who was to say she wouldn’t fob off Chat Noir on somebody else? It was… Plausible.

He groaned.  Was he really supposed to take off his pants and a shoe on the off chance Chloe would have put in the time to get the full set?

The screen floating in the air in front of him lit up.

“Well hello, Ladybug! Ready for a rematch, I see.  And Chat Noir is…?”

“You think I’d tell you that?”

“Aha!  Got him sneaking up on me?  We’ll have to wrap this up quickly, then.”

Adrien pursed his lips, and hurriedly started pulling off his pants.

He really hoped Chloe couldn’t see anything.

Two shoes and a pair of pants later, and… If he were Chloe, where would he keep a Chat Noir suit?

He doubted she wanted her… costuming choices easily accessible, so probably not in her actual closet. She’d keep it somewhere hidden.  Somewhere…

He mentally thanked the fact that they’d been friends for so long, because he actually had an idea.

When she’d been younger, she’d kept a toy-chest at the foot of her bed, it had been how he’d learned the word ‘mahogany,’ but the point was, when she’d gotten older, she’d put it under the bed.  Out of sight, but maybe not out of mind.

Please.  Please.

When he entered her bedroom, the chest was out, and open.  He let out a sigh of relief.

There, neatly folded, (clearly not Chloe’s work), was a black suit, a mask, and even a baton.

Well, they said to dress for the job you wanted…

--

She’d slipped into the floor below, a large dining room, specifically.

The question was, how to fight someone who only needed one hit to utterly disable you?

Now, if she could break her cell signal, she had a sneaking suspicion that Lady Wifi would be a good deal weaker, but the problem was, how?

If she could get her to the basement…  But how?

The other issue was that Chat Noir was missing, which meant she was only functioning at about half of her full capacity.  She couldn’t afford to wait for him, especially considering that Adrien was up there.

She hissed in a breath. She’d left Adrien up there, alone, with a villain.

Alright.  Alright, she didn’t have time to think about that. Just focus on getting her into the basement.

So, if she could just go to the stairs-

The elevator dinged.

“Well hello, Ladybug,” said Lady Wifi, grinning, as she set a few choice locations to record, “ready for a rematch.  And Chat Noir is…?”

“You think I’d tell you that?”

“Aha!  Got him sneaking up on me?  We’ll have to wrap this up quickly, then.”

Right.  Right, she could do this, couldn’t she?

Do what?  She was alone, against someone she really didn’t want to be alone against.  Chat Noir couldn’t get places as fast as she could, so even if… Even if he knew, there was no guarantee he’d be here fast enough to help.

The thoughts had flickered by in a millisecond, and, with only the fake confidence that Chat Noir relied on daily, said, “It’s just a shame he won’t get a chance to meet you.”

And then the fight began, and everything blurred.

She was on one side of the room, then the other.  She wasn’t counting how many locks Lady Wifi threw, but even if she had been, she would have lost count. They peppered the walls, they were painted across the tables she’d overturned as de facto cover.  She tried to land strikes on Lady Wifi, but either they were weak, or she just didn’t care.

Time passed; seconds, minutes, she didn’t know, but it passed, in a terrifying stalemate.

And then, in a flash, she landed the perfect strike.  The phone went flying, and without a thought, she bolted for it.  All she had to do was-

Even without the phone, Lady Wifi was strong, and the force of her tackle sent Ladybug off course. She was on the ground, and managed to wrestle her way into a position where she could see her enemy.  It was no use, though.  Hawkmoth apparently loved making his villains superhumanly strong.

Lady Wifi grinned, triumphantly, as she fought Ladybug into a position where her arms were above her head.

“Close,” she said, “real close, but not close enough.”

Ladybug looked over. The cellphone was close enough that if she could just reach her arm over, she could…  But her arms were pinned, and Lady Wifi had managed to get one hand free enough to start removing earrings.

“Alright, Paris,” she said, and with a jerk of her head, a record symbol flew over, “the moment you’ve aalll been waiting for.”

But Ladybug had seen what she hadn’t.  Behind the record symbol, barely visible against the darkened room, was a figure in black.

Just a few seconds. If she could just hold out a few seconds.

“No interview first,” she said.

Lady Wifi grinned at her, “interview after.  Now,” and her hand was slipping to Ladybugs left ear.

She jerked away, and managed to buy a fraction of a second, but then, her hand was on her ear, and-

Lady Wifi jumped as something bounced off of her head.

“What!?” she said, turning away for an instant.

It was all the distraction Ladybug needed to pull her hands free, and grab onto her hair.  One good wrench, and she was off.

They both bolted for the phone at the same instant.  Their hands closed around it simultaneously.

She was stronger, but Ladybug knew that if she could open up just an instant for-

Chat Noir had an arm around her neck, and was pulling, which was distracting her enough that Ladybug could-

Ladybug let go of the phone as Lady Wifi’s foot went straight into her stomach.

She slid back against the floor, and, as she sucked in a breath, thanked whoever was responsible for the fact that the Miraculous seemed to let her recover her breath faster.

She dodge Chat Noir, and as he hit ground, pulled him away in the instant between Lady Wifi getting them both off of her and regaining the use of her phone.

She pulled him behind a table, and they sat there for a second, as he caught his breath.

“Alright, you’re here,” she said, “I think that means it’s time for a Lucky Charm!”

Something boxy landed in her hands.

“Oh, thanks!” called Lady Wifi, “putting yourself on a time limit?  Makes my job so much easier.”

“You think she’s coming after us?”

“Don’t know, but what do I use a toolbox for.”

“I don’t know I thought that was your-

“Got it.”

“Oh.  Good.”

“Take this,” said Ladybug, handing him something small and black, “She’ll be looking for it.  Now, can you distract her while I do something?”

The record icon hit a wall.

“There we go,” said Lady Wifi, “Now, let’s see what our heroes are up to.”

Chat Noir slid the ring onto his finger.

“I can do that,” he said, grinning.

He dove out of cover, and popped to his feet.

“Your heroes,” he said, dodging to the side of a lock, “are about to win this fight.”