#plus i fear being way too hot in a few hours (its a long sleeve)

[mitamicah]

I feel like I should probably put it here as well:

[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (���It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

[anyoneseenadam]

You write fenrys so well 🥺

Can I request something for him falling in love with a lady who works in a library and is friends with aelin and he keeps finding excuses to visit the library and one day they realize they’re mates ? Can you plz include alot of longing looks & touched and his friends noticing ?

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: drinking, small argument, mainly fluff

a/n: kay so it's been a hot MINUTE since I've posted and I am sorry my loves, also I comepletely modified this but I hope you still like it, comment and shiz pls it really helps with writers block lol <33

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You had met Aelin sometime after the war. She had been wandering around town a couple days after the coronation, smiling at children and waving at the elderly, observing the way the town was slowly filling again, people returning home now it was safe. There weren’t many people about however, it just being seven in the morning.

She had walked past a shop then. It was small and rickety, the door barely on its hinges as a girl fought with it, swearing like a sailor.

“Do you need some help?” she asked, moving to stand beside the girl. You screamed instantly, jumping out of your skin at her sudden appearance, having not heard anyone coming due to how absorbed you were in your job. Aelin screamed when you screamed, and it left the two of you staring at each other with wide eyes before you fell apart in fits of laughter.

You stood from where you had bent to clutch your stomach, wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down.

“Jeez you fucking gave me a heart attack,” you laughed as she apologised, still giggling behind her hand. You then turned, hands on your hips as you glared at the door of your shop.

“Rude men should be put down,” you muttered and Aelin was laughing again.

“That I can get behind,” she said as you opened it, giving up on fixing it completely, Aelin gasping when she saw the inside.

“You have a bookshop!” she exclaimed, and you laughed.

“Had, now I just have dusty books and a broken door. It was my mother’s before…” you trailed off and Aelin put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and you shrugged.

“It’s fine, it was ages ago anyway,” you stepped further into the shop, going to the large window up front and tugging of the white sheet that obscured it from light. “However, this shop isn’t dead yet so might as well get it done.”

Aelin looked around the shop, the paper on the walls was peeling, the paint on the shelves cracked and the books covered in a fine layer of dust. “Damn, where do we start?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves and grinning at you when you whirled around, frowning at her.

“Doesn’t the queen have better things to do?” you asked, and she shrugged, laughing at your bewildered expression.

“I’m sure my husband will cope.” You gave her an unsure look at that, and she laughed, “He’s competent.”

“If you say so.”

“If you knew I was queen you really have no fear of authority do you?” she asked as you started pulling books down and pilling them onto the sheet you just pulled off the window.

“Respect is earned, plus you’re the one who made me shit myself.” She laughed again, smiling widely, and helping you take down more books as she realised this was the most she had laughed since the war ended.

--

The worked all day. First removing the books and putting them upstairs in the rundown apartment you lived in, filled with plants, blankets, and somehow even more books. Next the repainted the shelves, setting them outside to dry while they re-wallpapered the walls and cleaned the floor until it was shining.

When the sky got darker you swore as you realised neither of you had eaten all day, going up to your new friend and asking her what she wanted for dinner.

“I make really good pasta,” you had suggested, and she had nodded enthusiastically as you went upstairs to your apartment, drinking wine as you cooked together. As you ate on the floor, drinking yet another bottle of wine, this time straight from the bottle Aelin asked about your past.

You assured her it was relatively normal, asides from the whole ‘evil tyrant thing’ as you put it. You talked together for hours, going back downstairs, and bringing the now dry, sage green shelves back in and putting all the books away, setting them in categories.

Hours later Aelin decided to go home, not wanting to worry so much and she opened the still broken door, the both of you laughing as you realised you had forgotten a pretty integral part.

“Hey, you could just name the shop, ‘the broken door’,” she suggested, and you smiled.

“That would work.”

--

When Aelin got home she was met with a concerned Rowan, asking where she had been all day.

She smiled at him, pausing before answering, “I think I have a new best friend.”

Rowan frowned at that, “And what brings you to that conclusion?”

“Today was the first time I’ve laughed since…” she trailed off as silence fell at the thought of their past few months, Rowan then bringing her in for a hug.

“You know this means I have to meet her too then,”

“Nope my best friend get your own.” She shoved him playfully, falling asleep next to him that night with a smile on her face.

--

They went to see you the next morning and Aelin laughed when she saw your dishevelled state.

“Did you sleep?” she asked when she walked into the shop and found signs put up and plants dotted around the room as you sat on the floor, drinking a coffee that smelt so strong she almost gagged, much preferring sweeter tastes.

“Sleep is for the weak!” you said, half-heartedly raising your hand.

“And what’s with all the plants?” Rowan asked, frowning as he almost walked into another and you sat up straighter, glaring at him.

“What you too good for plants?” you asked your hands moving over-exaggeratedly as you got to your feet. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just a stinky man,” you whispered to the plants and Aelin laughed at her husbands offended face.

You stood and started walking upstairs, your feet dragging as you went to get breakfast. You heard them follow you and you pushed open the door to your flat.

You had even more plants up here and Rowan rolled his eyes as you moved to open the large windows, letting in fresh air, you then moved about making pancakes, mixing enough for the three of you and adding blueberries when you were finished.

You cooked them up while chatting idly with Aelin and Rowan, only receiving a small amount of judgement when Aelin discovered you didn’t actually have a bed and instead just a mattress on the floor with a sheet for warmth and some soft pillows. Your house was newly decorated, art hung on the walls, plants and candles decorating every surface.

“Tea, coffee, water, vodka?” you offered them drinks and Aelin whined.

“No vodka, we had too much wine last night,” you laughed at that as you served up coffee and pancakes.

“Yeah we’ll have to go properly drinking some night,” you muttered, Rowan chuckling under his breath and nodding in agreement.

The three of you ate the rest of your food, laughing and joking together and Rowan really noticed the difference in Aelin’s manner. She hadn’t been truly comfortable or at ease in months, always looking over her shoulder, but now she sat laughing with her friend and Rowan wanted to thank you a million times over for bringing her back out of her shell.

--

Since you first met Aelin you were meeting up almost every day, discussing books over tea and hanging out at your shop, or drinking from expensive glasses in her castle while trying on elaborate dresses. Soon you were practically apart of the family, but that didn’t stop the confusion Fenrys felt when he walked into the castle and found a young girl sleeping on Aelins’ bed, a book opened but abandoned on her chest.

He tentatively walked forward so he could see her more clearly and felt his heart clench when his eyes fall upon her peaceful face, her eyes closed, and hair spread around her head like a halo. He was about to reach a hand out to brush a strand of hair from her soft hair when he heard the door open, turning to see Aelin run in, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Fenrys I didn’t know you were back,” she said when she pulled back, bouncing on the soles of her feet excitedly and he laughed.

“Are you going to explain why there’s a girl in your bed, or do I need to break some news to Rowan,” he joked and she shoved his shoulder before moving to the bed and shaking the girl awake.

“It’s just (y/n),” she explained as the girl huffed and rolled away from Aelin.

“Ah of course this person who I definitely knew existed,” Aelin stuck her finger up at him as he laughed, unable to stop his eyes from trailing back to her.

He watched as she breathed in deeply, her eyes opening slowly as she took him in, before she pulled her covers up to over her chin and frowned at him and Aelin with a small pout.

“I was having the best dream every asshole,” she complained and Fenrys smiled as she sat up on her elbows and reached a hand out to him to shake, introducing herself. He brushed the shake of and instead brought her hand to his mouth pressing a kiss to the back of it as sparks show through her skin at the sensation.

“I’m Fenrys, ambassador of Terrasen,” he smiled cheekily as she shrunk away slightly, nerves taking over her, “hope to see you around more.”

He left, pressing a quick kiss to Aelin’s temple, and winking at you as Aelin moved over to you with wide eyes.

“Aelin…” you started as she squealed.

“He was totally flirting with you! You would be such a cute couple, please, please ask him out I need you two to get married and have to worlds prettiest babies!” she was bouncing in hr seat as you moved to shut her up.

“Okay ONE, I just met him. And TWO, he was far too pretty for me,” you said and Aelin frowned.

“Nope, nope you are incorrect, and he is going to fall in love with you,” she demanded, and you laughed, kicking her with your foot.

“Mhm sure.”

--

The next few days, Fenrys was coming to your shop every day. He would bring chocolates and flowers some days, or coffee and pastries other days. Always dropping them off with a smile, before lounging in the plush, green chair in the corner of the shop and talking to you for hours. He has also started coming to your and Aelin’s weekly cocktail night, wrapping his arm around your shoulder’s and laughing drunkenly into your neck as you told stories.

However, through all this you remained ‘friends’. He would press kisses to your cheek and hands, keep an arm slung around your waist when men came to speak at you at bars and primarily referred to you using pet names and rarely ever your actual name. And it was getting frustrating.

You were having to start putting genuine effort to not kiss him every time you had a drink and he sat extra close to you. Or when you were invited to parties, and he moved smoothly through the countless questions asking if you were dating.

And while you revelled in the attention it was tearing at your heart slightly as insecurities told you that he would never actually be interested in you. You wanted to scream at him every time he kissed you but wanted to melt into him every time he hugged you, your brain constantly at battle with itself when he was near.

You knew you were due to explode any time soon. So when you were out one night and he was holding you extra close, you pulled away, muttering an excuse about getting another drink.

Standing at the bar as you waited you rested you head in your hands for a second before you saw a man begin to approach you. He was attractive, not like Fenrys, but honestly you would take anything to get your mind of him at the moment, so you smiled at him, tilting your head.

“What’s a doll like you doing all alone?” he asked, his voice rough and gravelly, unlike the smooth, deep timbre you were used to, but you just laughed.

“Waiting for a man to not dehumanise me,” you bit back, and he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Sorry about that, what would you prefer?” he flirted, sidling up closer to you as you turned to face him.

“Can’t go wrong with ma’am,” you joked, and he laughed, looking down and shaking his head, only to look back up, his eyes going wide. You felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist and looked up to see Fenrys, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as he glared at the man in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice deep and full of authority, the man in front of you shrinking under his gaze.

“Shit sorry man, didn’t realise she had a boyfriend,” he apologised and this time you did roll your eyes.

“He’s not my-“ you began but Fenrys cut you off.

“Yeah she does, so back the fuck off.” You looked down as he spoke, shaking your head as tears of frustration built in your eyes. You harshly pulled out of his grip, leaving the bar as quickly as you could, wiping away the escaped tears as you heard Fenrys follow after you, shouting your name.

You whirled around when you got outside, your glare murderous.

“You do not get to do that!” you shouted as he moved closer to you.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry,” he began but you cut him off.

“NO! I am not your girlfriend! You have never once asked me to be so you don’t get to try scare away any guy that might have genuine interest in me!” his shoulders slumped as you spoke. Truthfully, he has been working up the courage to ask you out for months, and while he knew it was unfair how he treated you, he couldn’t help himself. He was addicted. He thought of you constantly, the texture of your skin, the smell of your hair, the way your eyes lit up and the way you moved your hands as you spoke. So when he saw you engage with the man that had the audacity to talk to you, his grip tightened on his glass so much it shattered, ignoring the worried looks from Aelin and Rowan as he stomped over to you.

“(y/n) listen, I’ve been an asshole I know,” he raised his hands, tentatively stepping towards you, “But I really care about you, and I want to be yours.”

You laughed bitterly, “You’re just saying that.”

He shook his head vehemently, stepping closer to you again and wrapping his arms around your shoulders so gently, one would think you were made of glass.

“I love you darling, please be mine,” he said into your hair, and you pulled back, looking up at him through glassy eyes before nodding slightly.

“I love you Fenrys,” he smiled down at you before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against your mouth, pouring his heart into the action. You gasped slightly as your lips met and he smiled widely against your mouth as the bond clicked into place.

“You know this means I now have an excuse to break the nose of any man that talks to you,” he whispered against your lips, and you giggled, shoving at his shoulder gently.

“I’m still annoyed at you,” you muttered, and his eyes darkened.

“Well I’m sure I can make it up to you.”

[ginkgomoon]

I Like You A Latte- Gavin ☕️

Happy blog birthday to @cheri-cheri. Another gift would like to present itself to you! 💙

“The exam is officially over,” you sigh.

All those years of studying and recurring late nights pouring the blood, sweat and tears for you push towards the finish line were all worth it.

You are now free.

Kind of… but not really.

For once, you were outside not catching the train to go university, heading off into another library or exam room. You had thought to savour this rare time to yourself before heading off to find a job. Thankfully, public transport is convenient enough to take you just about anywhere in Loveland City.

With only your phone, wallet and keys in hand, you stroll along the all too familiar building blocks near your home, pondering on where to go for the long awaited first day out by yourself. Should you go for some udon? Bingsoo? Pudding, perhaps?

While breathing in the sweet air of freedom, you admire the city that you grew up in, absorbing the view from down below and up at the infrastructure that the city was so renowned for.

The height, distance and those buildings haven't changed. But you- the stages of your life, experiences and perspectives have. The city almost seemed a little bit more… brighter. More alive. Or maybe… would it be for just this once?

This, you fear.

The glare of the sun continues beating down, its light reflecting off the glass buildings passing its judgement on the entire city. The heat is suffocating and you long for a cool drink or nice air-con to rely on to keep you sane.

A vision suddenly intrudes, presenting the clean pastel coloured store-front of the café that had just opened up nearby. You remember that you had power-walked right past the “WE ARE OPEN” sign on your way home from a past exam to prepare for the final one a few days ago.

You know you rarely enter any cafés at all, but your love for coffee and urge to explore someplace new begin to steer your legs into the walking direction of where you had remembered it to be.

As you soon reach the entrance, the sign you saw from the peripheral of your memory greets you.

“BRUNCH CAFE. WE ARE OPEN.”

You push open the heavy glass door, instantly entering a world of relief. Still in between the two opposing temperatures, you hastily swing the door back and encase yourself in paradise.

You take a moment to briefly scan your surroundings. The café, although it claims to be open, has everything but the barista. It wasn’t as big as the Starbucks down at the shopping centres, but it was humble enough for its size and able to fit all the requirements a café needs.

Soft instrumental music starts to reel you in further, like a siren hypnotising a sailor. You feel... peaceful. Though you wonder if you were hearing the non-diegetic music of the film occurring right in front of your eyes instead of your almost-dream café.

The minimalist designs, the ambience, and the extremely posh and elegant windows that you didn’t admire enough the first time strikes your appeal. You also confirm with yourself that this was the café that you would choose to break the cycle of drinking instant coffees everyday.

Just this once.

On the left side, those posh windows were flaunting on display, and to the right had little cubicles laid out perfect for providing spacious privacy. You marvel at what a genius idea the store owner had to create such a comforting and unique interior for a café. There was not a thing out of place.

Except of course, the barista.

You head over to where the cubicles were waiting and as you turn into the corner, you almost trip over something that looks like… a foot?

Following the coffee-stained sport shoes, your eyes slowly drift up on its owner, locking on a sleeping figure on the seats of the cubicle.

A young man with a soft aura.

You squint in confusion.

The poor cubicle clearly wasn’t big enough to fit his entire body. His hair seems to have fallen into place like dominos having slightly covering his eyelids, and appears to be breathing in a gentle rhythm with his chest following in sync. Your eyes also end up emphasising his jawline as you continue to stare.

His chest- wait.

A little badge on the right corner of his shirt immediately becomes the salient object.

So, he is the barista.

Barista… Gabin?

You lean closer at the words printed out on it.

No, it’s Ga-vin.

Apart from how attractive he looks, you question yourself- why is the barista sleeping during opening hours?

The man’s eyes slowly crack open, like a shell opening to display the pearl from inside, and you finally see his eyes of beautiful amber squinting back at you. Though, you can’t tell if it was because of the bright lights inside the cafe, or if he was solely observing you- and why you were so close to him at this very moment.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” you cry, instantly retracting from your forward-leaning position. Your brain tries to racks up reasons why you two were in this situation incase he asks.

“There was something on your face” or “your foot was in the way” could work. No- “sorry, I’ve never seen another human being before” sounds a lot more believable.

Gavin, the barista, furrows his eyebrows in confusion then seemingly in frustration.

Your body tenses.

It’s coming.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep…” he sighs softly.

You do another quick scan and take that only the two of you were in the cafe now, unless there was another sleeping barista somewhere else you didn’t notice.

“If you're here for coffee, it’s on the house. An apology for what you saw just now…. Just don’t tell the boss if he’s here,” Gavin lightly coughs.

“Oh okay... Thank you. A latte please,” you say, rather not wanting to question it further. For now. But free coffee made by this gorgeous barista? How could anyone refuse this offer? All you did was stare. In that case, you would gladly do it again.

You settle your belongings on the table and catch Gavin rolling up his sleeves, putting on the display of his toned forearms. Luckily, your cubicle entrance was facing the direction of the workbench allowing yourself to watch him set up.

You start to wish for your coffee to be as hot as him.

Scalding hot.

Gavin steadily handles the jug and effortlessly pours the milk into the latte glass with the espresso already inside. Despite your sight of his expertise, he still can’t hide the subtle droopiness of his eyes and the slight furrow of his eyebrows again.

You figure it would be better if you come up to him instead so he wouldn’t have to travel the whole way to your cubicle with his current state being like this.

You gingerly make your way to his workbench while fumbling for a topic to break the awkward silence in your head.

“Is it just you working here today or…?” you ask.

“Is there another hot sleeping barista I should know about?” you continued in your head.

Gavin hands you the transparent cup accompanied by the saucer, a little spoon, a packet of sugar and a complimentary ginkgo-shaped cookie on the side.

The art displayed formed a symmetrical heart with perfect one centimetre foam to present the perfect latte.

“There’s the chef who’s actually the boss of this place but sometimes he dashes in and out. Especially when there’s no customers as of late. I have no idea where he goes, actually. Right now is no exception,” he replies, sweeping the remains of the coffee grounds into the knock box.

“And you do all the work for him? That doesn’t seem fair. Does he allow you to make your own cup of coffee at least?”

“Well, not exactly. I just work over-time till late. Plus, I think my body is practically immune to caffeine by now,” Gavin laughs.

"Me too," you comment.

As tired as he looks, he still has the energy to light up a smile, even with a stranger. His mouth forms an effortlessly handsome arc and you feel something emerging from within your heart, so subtle that you almost think that you could have mistaken yourself as the protagonist in a romance novel.

Though working overtime till late… at a brunch cafe?

You don’t question him any further. You take a whiff at the single delicate-looking plain ginkgo cookie and have a bite. This moment of peace and serenity was offering the much needed break from all that tension and pressure you were under- apart from Gavin being here, though he didn’t seem to mind your presence.

You lean forward to place your elbows on the counter and stare at the coffee in front, frowning a little at the reality of ruining the beautiful heart. You rip open the sugar and pour in half, then give it a stir with the spoon. The foam is perfectly silky and frothy, fusing with the crema like a starry galaxy.

You remind yourself that "it was okay" because this moment would forever remain in your own heart instead. Delicious, creamy arabica coffee.

Like those ginkgo leaves dancing in the wind that autumn day.

You smile at the memory before multiple begin to overlap with another. Ones where you had passed by the senior classrooms catching a glimpse of a boy staring out of the window or down in a random alleyway on your bicycle.

You didn’t think much of it back then either, but he had always looked familiar and seemed to be everywhere you were too. Crossing paths in hallways and even at the library, reading. That upperclassman boy named-

“-Gavin?”

He looks up.

“From school?”

You wonder why you hadn’t realised.

His facial features are now more defined, sharper, and still a head taller than you. Who would have thought the hot barista was actually an old schoolmate. You put your coffee down and internally scream.

“You remember me?” he softly asks.

“Just a little bit. Wait, do you know who I am?”

“Just a little bit.”

Gavin smiles.

You break eye contact and continue drinking, not wanting the coffee to get cold during this exchange. But even now it tastes different than before.

“So, what brings you here?” he asks.

“Taking a break before I find a job. See if any place will accept me…”

“Of course they will. You’re brilliant at what you do. I have no doubts that you will be successful.”

You smile in response, taking in the last of the remaining coffee.

“How do you know? We haven’t seen each other in so long. And I don’t think we’ve ever interacted this much in the past."

“I just do… Trust me.”

You look back up. His eyes light up with so much sincerity that could power a whole entire city’s electricity.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you say.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You seemed like... you were just so difficult to figure out, especially for people like me who don't know you that well. So I never gave it a second thought either. And now here you are, making my coffee. Anyway, this is probably not making any sense..."

"No, I understand," Gavin states. "In your opinion... what kind of man am I?"

Before you could formulate a proper response, hot heat suddenly finds its way in, corroding with its cooler counterpart and signalling the entrance of another person.

Your eyes catch sight of a tall and handsome man, his aura so dominating that the heat you feel could just be from him instead.

“That’s the boss,” Gavin whispers.

The boss saunters his way in straight towards you two. His black hair matches his suit and tie, making him appear more like a CEO than of a chef.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to the back to restock some things, I’ll be right back,” Gavin says, shooting you a comforting smile.

While trying to process all of this, your eyebrows are the ones to furrow now instead. How could this boss treat an employee like this? Working overtime without proper breaks? This to you was appalling and certainly see this as an act of injustice. Being the good and lawful citizen that you are, you decide to treat this like one.

“Excuse me.”

Before he enters the kitchen, he turns, offering his full attention to you. You thought you had a good grasp on what you wanted to say, but it seems that your head had disconnected from your voice box.

“Your employee…” you begin, “he seems very fatigued. I think you should be sharing the workload equally instead of leaving the cafe. Haven’t you ever heard of a collegial workplace before?”

His eyebrow lifts- in amusement, mockery or consideration, you don’t know. After all, your words carrying the “sense of justice” did sound a lot better in your head.

“I don’t interfere with anyone’s personal lives,” he said, his deep voice shattering your “prosecution”. But before you could have another go at him, he retreats into the kitchen.

Gavin returns with takeaway cups and lids and sees you standing flabbergasted at your interaction with the boss.

“You okay?”

You reply back with a little “humph” at the direction of the kitchen then turn to Gavin restocking the items on the cup warmer of the coffee machine.

"I-it’s nothing."

After all, this was your first and last time here, and maybe you shouldn't have acted so impulsively on a situation like this. Plus, how would Gavin react if you push the topic further?

You sigh. Hopefully the plan to have a drink and catch up with an old friend later in the night will settle the agitation you feel.

A soft ding is heard from your phone reminding you to get ready to leave.

Perfect timing.

As you reluctantly pack your things, you glance at Gavin’s way, who looks like he’s about to end his shift for the day as well.

You don’t want to be supporting a business owner who treats his employees like this, but yet seeing Gavin this way made you feel helpless. It’s a shame that you won’t see another handsome barista like this again. Or see him again. Or probably enter another cafe at all after this.

“I have to go.”

Your voice interrupts his workflow, and he frowns.

“Now?”

“I have somewhere to be, unfortunately.”

Gavin takes a moment to process this.

“Why don’t you wait till I leave? That way, I can see you off. It will only be a minute.”

More like a minute's time to sob about this man who could have been your boyfriend in a parallel universe. But as long as you won’t be late to meet up with your friend, you agree to wait for Gavin to finish up.

You linger by the entrance, not wanting to intrude his workspace again and steer clear from the awkwardness that could arise from watching him up close.

But after that literal minute, he steps outside with you and the heaviness in your heart starting to simmer back up again. The air already seems to have to cooled down, providing a thankful comfort to your surroundings.

Looking at him now, you almost change your mind. You could maybe see him again when you have time in the future. To... catch up.

Just maybe.

“Thank you for today," you say. You remind yourself to not get too attached, having really not know if you would be ready for all of that, especially for what was to come in the future.

You slowly walk backwards into the direction of your home, back where you need to get ready for the night out again.

“Thanks for coming. It was nice meeting you again,” he replies.

As you turn to leave, in your peripheral vision Gavin tracks forward to cover every step you took away from him, pulling a hesitant arm up to say something more.

But by then, you were already turning the corner and out of sight.

-And after all this time, your thoughts keep returning to those moments.

A couple of hours pass and your mind still orbits Gavin and that café. You wonder if there was something more you could have done or said. Hopefully he didn’t mistake your hurried steps for something else.

You soon arrive at the venue that you and your friend unanimously agreed on, though as you tippy-toe your way through the crowd to spot her, it seems that she hasn't arrived at the agreed time yet.

As you wait, you fiddle with the side of your dress. You decided to go with the classy minimalist look- a black dress and simple ginkgo drop earrings you bought recently. You didn't want to draw any attention to yourself, but you were satisfied that you were well-dressed enough to feel glamorous for the night. However, wanting to avoid the additional heat of the weather sticking on your body like a tattoo, you decide to head in first.

The music gradually becomes clearer and definitely louder as you weave your way through the hallway entrance towards the heart of the club, with the lights dimly lit and its walls enclosed for the darkness to rule.

You haven’t been in a place like this for so long, especially when you got used to the quiet and calm environment of libraries, the home, and the café earlier…

You could feel everyone’s body heat from a good healthy distance away, even at the seat of the bar. You don’t plan on getting drunk tonight, but you know your alcohol tolerance is so low that you figure it would be best if you should order a little fruity mocktail first instead then perhaps have a real drink with your friend when she arrives later.

You give a quick text notifying her of your location and place your phone back into your purse, ready to order.

Darkness continues to stir as you struggle to locate the bartender.

What kind of bartender is this person if they’re not at the bar?

Lights rotate and blind its way in every direction. For a fleeting second, it lands on the person across from you, illuminating those unforgettable eyes and smile of its owner.

His eyes are just as wide as yours.

"It's you."

The barista- no, bartender, was Gavin.

[katsukikitten]

Stood Up

A/N Yall thank my friend for sending me rando tumblr screencaps from well aged posts. I just was like oo good fic idea and now here it is. I finally took time to write it. ENJOY!

Unblinking eyes gaze at you in curiosity mixed heavily with pity as you gulp down your fifth complimentary water.

Fellow diners stare, watching the scene unfold with heavy hearts although it is making good dinner conversation. Your dress now constricting when it was once body con. Hugging your curved

You'd been here long enough to watch couples come and go. Families to sit and laugh all the way through coffee and dessert.

Their gazes feel heavy.

"Are you ready to order yet?" The waitress asks kindly, trying hard to keep the pity off of her face, but you know that she knows "Or perhaps more bread?"

You stare down at the third *empty* basket, you bite the inside of your lip to keep your cool. White hot rage flows through your vein competing against burning embarrassment and the tears collecting in your eyes.

The slim waitress begins to collect the empty baskets, giving you a once over. You feel the pity radiating off of her in waves.

"Just a few more minutes please." You smile politely.

"There is heavy traffic tonight." She smiles back trying to encourage you but all it does is remind you that everyone knows what's happening in this restaurant and it is just *you* who is delusional.

And you're beginning to wonder how long you can tell yourself that traffic really is to blame.

It had been well over an hour from the time agreed upon by both yourself and your supposed date. Your phone is still dry, glass staring up with no notification in sight.

Hell not even a spam email.

Biting rouged lips you dig through your purse for any sort of cash to tip the waitress who so kindly took care of you while you sat their waiting patiently like an idiot.

Stood up.

It wasnt like this was the first time. You'd been stood up before and after giving them fifteen extra minutes of time you'd text them "Dont fucking bother my guy." Before ordering yourself a delicious meal and dessert.

Happy over the result, loving the longer life.

But shit you actually LIKED this guy. It was supposed to be your third date with him. He kissed you and left you at your door step damnit!

Or maybe that should have been hint enough.

A sharp inhale to collect yourself before you pat the 10 on the table. Making sure to keep your head held high when suddenly a strong hand clamps on your shoulder. Keeping you seated.

"Hey baby." He says a little loudly, you look into glittering rubies with a begrudged almost angry look. He flashes a wide tooth smile before kissing you on your cheek. Adding, again slightly above a normal voice.

"There was a crazy accident! I left the uber and had to walk here. And you know me I can't keep my phone charged to save my life."

The chair across from you slides across dark hardwood floors before it is settled into. A wink of shining rubies as you stare with now heated eyes.

"Play along? The names Kirishima Eijiro." He winks again.

Who the fuck was this guy?

Dressed in black with a blazing red tie, black vest and matching black shirt sleeves rolled to his forearms.

Why the fuck did he sit down across from you?

And why the fuck wasn't he scared of the death glare you were giving him?

Before you can ask the waitress comes over, giving Kirishima a slight glare.

A glance of "You better be paying" and "You better buy the gorgeous lady dessert!"

It does not go unnoticed by the red head, who happily takes the blame for the delay.

Better than the latter, which was you, this stunningly beautiful woman was being stood up.

It was unmanly. Not to mention it was hurting his heart.

"Bring a bottle of..." He glances to you, giving you a once over before a smile creep along his soft lips, "Actually make it a whiskey neat and a nice rum and coke?"

"Coming right up. Do you need a few moments?" She glances over the two of you, the waitress must know how famished you were. Well he sat across from you, enduring your harshest of glares, so a little pressure wouldn't hurt.

"Eijiro, order for me please *baby*?" You purr, folding up your menu, he takes your request with stride.

Shooting in the dark and hoping for the best.

"She'll have the parm crusted chicken, side caesar salad with the dressing on the side and fries." He winks your way, a smirk slides onto your lips, "I'll have the sirloin, rare to medium rare please and a loaded baked potato."

"Coming right up." She smiles, collecting the menus before happily waltzing to the order board.

You lean forward, a signature cat smile plastered on your lips.

"Not bad. Not bad." You take a sip of your refilled water, "It was Eijiro right?"

He laughs, its warm and kind, causing your stomach to flutter.

"Yes, I didn't catch your name?" He leans closer as you lean back, guarded.

"First, you have to answer why you decided to sit down across from me."

His everlasting smile falters for just a moment. He swallows, debating on answering truthfully or with a lie.

He thinks better of it.

"I didn't like the idea of such stunning fiercoity to be stood up. It was unmanly of your date and...." He waits for the waitress to set your drinks down before continuing, "Dickish."

It is your turn to laugh aloud as you watch a small blush creep upon his cheeks, bringing out the brightness of his eyes. You were truly in the presence of a gentleman, what with him waiting before cursing and speaking so lowly.

While you would have been brash, loud, and uncaring.

He relishes the sound of your sultry laugh, making him wonder what other parts of you were this...this intensely breathtaking.

He quiets some of his dirtier thoughts as he swallows down his desire with the whiskey.

"So you just happened to see me?" You nurse your own drink.

"Yes and no, I hear a couple talking about it on their way out. I was supposed to be with my friends tonight." His eyes roam the room, he smiles and you follow his gaze, "Well more of a work meeting."

A small group with a rowdy ash blonde, a quiet jade haired man, a petite chestnut brown haired woman and a man with a mop of mostly white hair.

For once in your life you feel a little guilty, his group of friends/co workers look fun.

You shouldn't be stealing him away just because he was saving you a bit of embarrassment.

"Oh, go back to them. I've eaten alone plenty of times." You smile his way, "I can cancel our orders."

"Oh no, like I said I'm not about to allow such a stunning fiercoity such as yourself to sit alone." He leans closer, his voice hushed and laced with concern, "Plus you looked....lonely. You must have liked him?"

Seeing him so worried about a strangers emotional state has your stomach in knots, your drink goes down easy before you shrug your shoulders.

"Key word, *liked*" You smile devilishly at him, a set of sharp teeth greet you in return.

"So what do you do for a living that you can have a meeting at a five star restaurant?" Curiosity finally getting the better of you as you pay what was supposed to be his table a final glance.

He let's out a low sigh, it sounds tired to you.

"Hero work." His smile is a fraction of its normal luster.

Or what you considered normal in the past twenty minutes or so.

"Ah, hard work I'm sure. Cheers." You clink his glass, "To you and your crew for keeping us all safe."

He gives you a pondering look before his smile returns to normal.

"Cheers." A quick swallow before your food is set before you.

Both of you sitting in comfortable silence. You watch as he cuts into his steak, the muscles in his arms contracting with each movement. Struggling to stay in his shirt at times, although the shirt did not seem too tight.

You smile as a devilish idea takes over, you stab one of his extra bites, the steak melts in your mouth. Biting back a moan as you savor the flavor.

You cut him a piece of your chicken, he goes to take your fork from your delicate, yet deadly, hand before you pull back.

He looks at you with furrowed brows before he catches on as you gently tilt the fork towards him. He takes a bite, holding eye contact before sliding off the piece of meat.

The chicken dances along his tongue melding with the crusted buttery bread crumbs and cheese.

Your heart slams into your chest, demanding to be heard.

Hell seen with how hard its ramming into your ribcage, wanting to burst free for the first time in a long time.

Another smile spreads across your slightly flushed cheeks.

All the while Kirishima cannot help but imagine what a devine creature such as yourself would taste like.

Sweet.

At least that's what he thought.

"What do you do for a living?" Knife slicing through tender beef. A pause on your end as you debate should you lie or tell the truth.

Well, the date wasn't going awfully, it wouldn't be a bad idea for one of your dates to know the truth.

"I'm a writer."

"What no way?! Like for the paper or published?" You swallow your worry.

"Published."

"Is that why you have yet to give me your name?" He peers up at you attempting to read your body language.

Only when you laughed was your guard down.

It had been partially if not mostly up for majority if this going on hour.

You paused, is that why you always used a pseudonym for fear that someone would put two and two together?

That they may have read your work?

And what if they hated it?

So fucking what if they did, you remind yourself with a sip of your liquor.

"Guess." Another famous cat smile. Kirishima ponders, fork and knife forgotten as he thinks.

"Oh! You do the crime books with that bad ass mob boss woman!" He snaps his fingers to attempt to remember, "'A Lone Red Rose,' ugh it's been on my reading list forever!"

"You're lying." You giggle but when his face becomes crestfallen you almost retreat your half tease half accusation.

A lot of firsts were happening for you tonight.

"Y/LN, you're a best freaking seller! I've been dying to know but never have time. I'm on the first chapter. I'm where the main crooks right hand man's wife gets SNATCHED in the middle of the night! I'm on the edge of my seat but I lost my book and hadn't had time to get a new one." He kinda sulks at the end.

"What happened to it?" Curiosity dances along your tone.

"Oh well Bakugou, the blonde at the table, " A point of your fork and a spy of your eye, "He had to blow up our steak out car to divert the perpetrator from hurting a civilian. He gave me the money for it three fold but I have yet to make it to the store."

"Ah." Is all you offer as you gaze over at his much different life.

Your newly banded tattoo seems to itch extra tonight, you choose to ignore it as another question comes out.

"But I've read so many reviews! Everyone speculates if you've done hero work before, or even shadowing. Some think you're writing your life. I'm guessing shadowing. Am I right?" He looks at you with expectant eyes and you smile warmly to him.

He was kind, unsuspected and reminded you so much of sunshine.

"Who's to say it's not my life?" You giggle and he laughs as well.

"Well the main love interest, again from what I heard, sounds explosive, temper wise. So unless Bakugou is a Mob Boss' son then I'm finding that highly doubtful." His laughter is contagious and you join in once more.

Let this be as it is and as he thinks.

"Ah yes, that would be a funny thought.: You glance at the table again before returning to that glittering gaze, "But you're right. I shadowed heroes in abroad. America actually before my Father sent me here."

"Oh what for?"

"To expand his business. I only just decided to go along with it." You bat long lashes his way.

He orders dessert, the two of you get along quite nicely before he insists he walks you to either the train station or a cab.

"I'll be fine. I'm not helpless or quirkless." It almost comes out a snarl, he places your coat onto your shoulders anyway.

"I would never think that of you. Any woman is capable of defending herself. But I was raised to aid anyway. Please do not take offense my love." He blushes at the end, realizing too late how real that sounded. You curl into the crook of his arm as he places his hand on your hip.

"Thank you my love." You smile up at him only to be pulled closer. He walks you to the curb in front of the restaurant to the idling dark car.

Your idling dark car, with a scarred looking driver. He blinks as the scene gives him a ghost of a feeling. He shakes it off. He goes to open your door for you, stopping just above the handle.

"Oh one more thing." A heavy blush rushes into his cheeks. Suddenly he is nervous, "May I have your time again? For a real date?"

You look deep into his eyes for deception and when you find none your smile.

Another genuine, heart melting smile before you lean up to him. Pressing your lips to his softly, swiping your tongue over his lips for a moment, hinging at what the two of you could be.

It all just depends on your mood and how much you cared to reveal.

He was a hero after all.

But he was so damn handsome.

"Eijiro, that's the realest date I've been on in a long time. Your phone?" You hold out your hand and his face fall.

"I didn't lie about it being dead." He scratches the back of your head and you pull out yours. He gives you his number that you text a winky face too before he opens your door.

Totally lapping up the presence of a true fucking gentleman. Hopefully that only went so far into the bedroom.

You looked at him through the tinted glass before rummaging around in the back seat. Your hands finding purchase on the cracking spine.

Ink slides across paper in a smooth concession before you roll the window down, peeking over it.

"For you." You smirk, "Let me know what you think when you've finished."

"I..I will!" He says as your roll your window up, the driver pulling away giving you a look.

"Madame, you realize that was Red Riot right?" He asks, concern melting into rage that he would dare touch you

"Yes, I know." Cat smile painting your lips.

"Oi! You stood us up to not even fuck?!" Bakugou have snarls, half teases when he finds him out on the curb.

"I got her number."

"Tch, come on let's go. Glad you finally got a copy of that damn book you won't shut the hell up about. You reread it so much that it was falling apart. I did you a favor that day."

"Haha yea Thanks Katsuki." Another suck at the blondes teeth.

Kirishima knew it was you the second he heard you laugh, he had read your book countless times.

He had an idea of who you were.

But he had no idea that his glittering Ruby eyes were staring down at a fortune. The very first and test print of your book, now adorned with your signature and lipstick mark on the front page.

To my hero for the night. 💋

[saeyoungs-sunflower]

Never Too Far (Choi Twins’ Birthday!)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my favourite tomatoes! This was written in haste to get it out in time so I’m sorry it’s pretty rough haha, I might go back and edit some parts later but don’t worry I won’t make any big changes. ALSO I know it isn’t in her timezone yet but it’s also my good friend @sunshinejihyun ‘s birthday so go send her some love! Her writing in incredible so I would 100% recommend you check it out!! <3

Notes:

It is implied Saeyoung x MC, but the main focus is on the twins <3

The last part takes place after the Secret Endings but V is alive because I do what I want heheheh

***

11th June, 2 years ago

The other members of the RFA had been very sweet to celebrate Seven’s birthday the way they did, organising a get-together at Jumin’s penthouse and properly hanging out outside of the RFA parties. They danced, they sang, they played games. They didn’t need to all that for him, but they did and Seven was incredibly grateful for that.

But he was just so exhausted.

It was hard enough to keep up his happy-go-lucky facade on his best of days, but the promised emotional turmoil of that day made it infinitely more taxing. The mask he had to hold up was heavy and his arms grew weaker with every passing hour.

It was around 10pm when the celebration came to a close. Seven thanked everyone for the day and for their generosity and left the penthouse, deciding to walk the long way home to give himself space to think.

What was he doing right now? Was he celebrating too? Did he get a cake and presents and was he surrounded by friends and family?

Was he happy?

Every new thought made his heart sink lower into his chest, buried down until he could hardly feel it at all. Numbness was better than pain, he thought, though his will to carry on that way was a dying ember in a rainstorm.

He hadn’t registered the he had been crying until he heard the shy tap of a tear hitting the concrete under his feet. Reaching a hand to touch his cheeks, he realised the tears had been running a long while before he noticed. He opted for wiping his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, his glasses already fogged up from the hot tears that spilled from his eyes. Fixing them to sit on the bridge of his nose again, he saw the sign:

Two Scoops

24hr Ice Cream Parlour

He laughed despite himself. Even the universe was mocking him now. Or was it trying to tell him something?

Seven didn’t care either way, deciding to further torture himself by indulging in what was his other half’s favourite treat. By taking himself back to the days when he would sneak out and seek out an ice cream parlour very much like this one. By filling his mind with the image of pure joy on his brother’s face when he returned with an ice cream to share, an image that was already printed onto the back of his skull. He just couldn’t resist.

“Hey there, what can I get you?,” said the girl running the till cheerily.

She seemed to be the only employee there, which wasn’t too surprising considering the time. The shop had more customers than he expected, but was by no means busy, “Hi, could I get two scoops of the strawberry, please.” That was his twin’s favourite. He really was putting himself through it tonight, wasn’t he?

“Sure thing. Was that to eat-in or takeaway?”

“Uh, eat-in, please.” He didn’t want to go home yet. He didn’t want to go back to his version of normal yet.

“No problem! If you’d like to take a seat I’ll bring that right over,” the girl said, a warm smile on her face. She was probably told to smile at customers like that, but for some reason it made Seven’s weary heart flutter as if it were genuine.

He read her name tag before finding a booth to himself. MC. Cute name, he thought. She seemed sweet, which was pretty fitting for a girl who worked at an ice cream shop.

A few minutes passed until MC came over to the booth with his ice cream, the same kind smile gracing her features. She placed his order in front of him with a small “Enjoy!” before going to clear another table.

Seven eyed the ice cream curiously.

Three scoops and a note?

He carefully unfolded the note and read its contents:

The extra scoop is on me. Happy birthday! x

How on earth did she…? Oh. Seven laughed out load when he remembered the big-ass birthday badge that Yoosung had given to him that was currently pinned to the front of his hoodie. Yoosung 1, Seven 0.

He turned around to where she was currently wiping down a table, also giggling as they made eye contact. He shot her a wide smile, the first genuine smile he could recall, and mouthed a ‘thank you’ at her.

She simply bowed her head in response before returning to her place behind the counter, still smiling as she started to make other customers’ orders.

Seven continued to spoon ice cream into his mouth as he watched out the window, trying with all his might to not look back at MC. He didn’t want to distract her from her work, but he also didn’t want to make any promises that he couldn’t keep.

He wanted to give her his number. He wanted to take her out for a drink to say thank you, maybe even take her out for dinner. He wanted to have that option. He wanted nothing more than to live a life where he could do those things, but even if he wanted to, it was out of his reach. He had already gone too far by being friendly with her, so all he could do now was leave a sizeable tip and never come back.

Shoving his hands into his pockets he moved towards the door, stopping by the counter on his way, “Thank you again, you really didn’t need to do that, but I appreciate it. It was very kind of you.”

“Nah, don’t be silly,” you said, your smile reaching your eyes, “it’s my pleasure. Have a good evening.”

He’ll try.

“You too.”

And with that, he walked out the door, the shrill ring of the bell over the door mocking him as he left what could have been the best thing that ever happened to him. As an agent, he spent a lot of time considering the ‘what if’s and ‘what could been’s, and he couldn't help but feel that this pure act of kindness from a stranger could have blossomed into something cherishable, something precious. Something real.

Perhaps, one day, he would return to this ice cream shop and pick things up where they left off. Perhaps things would just work out his way for a change. Perhaps he could have a chance with that life.

But life just wasn’t that kind, was it?

***

11th June, 1 year ago

Ray was, quite frankly, bored. He had been sent out to recruit new believers more times than he could count. It was such a dull task, since he rarely found someone worthy or suitable for paradise. However, the saviour had sent him out on a special recruitment mission today, so he knew he had to concentrate.

But, today in particular…he just wasn’t feeling it.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to, but he still remembered. 11th of June. His birthday.

There were only so many doses of elixir he could stomach, so in the end he lied to the saviour by saying it had worked, that he couldn’t remember anything from his past. He was a clean slate, a blank canvas ready for her to paint whatever she pleased. The venom of guilt ran through his blood everyday since he betrayed his saviour, but he wasn’t sure he would have survived another round of cleansing.

However, it was only on this day that, just for a while, he let his mind wander about his old life, or the life that could have been. He never let it wander too far in fear he would run with it, but just enough to satisfy the gaping whole in his heart that grew wider with each year that passed.

He continued to trudge through the streets, his focus diminishing until the glint of a luminous sign caught his eye.

24hr ice cream huh?

Ray considered it for a moment, the venomous guilt stinging more than before. It wasn’t allowed. He would be punished if she found out. She would be so angry.

But really, how would she know? He would be leaving sooner than he arrived, and he could tell her he thought he found a potential candidate but they turned out to be unsuitable. After a rush of bravery, with a trace of rebellion, Ray entered the shop.

The shop was small, quaint. He expected it to be busier, considering the nice weather. But he didn’t complain, it meant there was basically no queue.

“Hiya,” the girl behind the counter beamed, “what can I…oh! Hello again!” What? “How are you?”

“Oh, um, I’m good thanks but sorry I-“

“I love what you’ve done with your hair by the way, the white really suits you!”

The white really…hold on. Did she think you were…?

This…could work.

Ray cleared his throat, “Ah, thank you. I, uh, bleached it recently.”

“Well I think it looks great,” she said, still smiling brightly. Yes, this could definitely work. “What can I get for you?”

“Uh, the salted caramel please. Two scoops, please.” He didn’t know why he said that. It wasn't his favourite. But he knew who’s favourite it was.

He must have been feeling sentimental today.

She raised an eyebrow at him, her lips curling up even more, “Of course, eat-in or takeaway?”

“Uh, takeaway, please.”

“Sure, if you just wait round the corner I’ll make that up for you!”

Rounding the corner of the counter, Ray started to type furiously on his phone. He’d read her name tag, now he just needed to locate her phone. MC, MC, MC…

Gotcha.

“Here you go!”

Ray snapped out of his trance, taking the paper cup out of her hands, “Oh, thank you.”

“No worries. Have a lovely birthday!” she called out as she hurried off to the next customer.

Okay, he could understand the mix up, but how on EARTH did she know that?

Well, there was no time to worry about that now. He had done it, he had found the perfect person. His saviour would be so proud.

She was kind, enthusiastic and, seemingly, overly-trusting. He would be able to lure her to the apartment quite easily. Plus, she would feel right at home with that red-head…

Ray swatted the thought from his mind as he left the shop, only then noticing the extra scoop of ice cream he had been given.

How strange.

Later that evening, he began the first part of the plan. Thoughts of the past left his mind, being replaced by thoughts of the future.

Maybe, life was a little kinder to him then he thought.

***

11th June, Present day

Saeyoung woke up and patted the other half of his bed, only to find it empty and cold. He shot up, sitting bolt upright as he rummaged for his glasses. Upon locating them, he propped them on his face before he focussed his tired eyes on her side of the bed, finding only a piece of paper with her handwriting on it:

A little birdy told me it was someone’s birthday? If that’s true, come to this address at 12 noon. Try not to be late but for the love of God do NOT be early pleeeeeease! Love you! MC xx

He kind of recognised the address, but couldn’t begin to remember where from. Rubbing his eyes, still slightly crusty from sleep, and flinging on a t-shirt, Saeyoung went to take a shower only to meet his brother in the hallway.

“Did you get one too?” Saeran said, voice still husky as he held up a note very similar to the one he found.

Saeyoung couldn’t help but smile.

“I did. Looks like she’s up to something.”

“Oh God, what on earth has she done.”

Both twins chuckled, they knew what MC was like. She was excitable, cheerful, loving. But she also had a tendency to go a bit overboard, which often made for some very amusing and slightly awkward situations for everyone involved. But no matter the outcome, she always managed to make them smile and they were always grateful for her efforts.

So they knew that either way, they were going to have a good birthday.

After they both showered, ate and were preparing to leave, Saeran disappeared to his room before returning with his hands behind his back.

“Saeyoung?”

“Uh huh?” Saeyoung said as he tied his shoes.

“Um, happy birthday.” Saeyoung swivelled around to find Saeran holding out a small red box, tied together with a white ribbon in a neat bow. Saeyoung stood up, mouth agape as he gently took the box.

He slowly untied the knot and opened it, chuckling when he saw what was a pendent in the shape of an ice cream cone.

“It’s silly, I know, but it’s what connected us for so many years and…I wanted something to remind of us that,” he said quietly, his hand under the colour of his sweater as he pulled out a matching pendent on a chain.

Saeyoung tried with all his might to blink away the tears but it was no use. He unfastened his usual chain from his neck and slipped the pendent through so it sat proudly next to his cross. He leapt forward, catching Saeran in his arms as tears continue to slide down his face. There they held each other, neither willing to be the first to let go. Eventually Saeyoung broke away, darting into his own room and coming out with a medium-sized pink box.

“I was waiting for the right time to give you this, and now seems pretty perfect,” he said as he handed it to his brother.

Setting in on the table, Saeran shyly lifted up the lid and couldn’t contain the grin that creeped up his face as he examined the present. It was a bonsai tree.

“I know that you love gardening but get upset when the plants die, so I thought that you should have one that will live for as long as you take care of it.”

Saeran also felt tears pricking his eyes but was able to hold back, “Thank you, Saeyoung.”

“You’re welcome. Now we better go before MC hunts us down.”

***

Saeyoung and Saeran wandered the streets together, following the GPS on their phones before coming face-to-face with an all too familiar sign.

Surely not.

“Wait…” they both said in sync before hurtling towards the entrance.

“SURPRISE!” the whole RFA cried as they stumbled through the door. The place had been covered head-to-toe in red and pink decorations, and every member had their own party hats and streamers. To an outsider, it would have looked like a children’s party but nobody cared, because the look of pure joy and astonishment on their faces made it all worth it.

The twins were covered in confetti upon entrance, and whilst they were both indescribably grateful and excited, Saeyoung had questions.

“MC, do you work here?!”

“I used to, a little bit anyway. My parents own the business so I would work here in between jobs or when I was visiting. That’s why I was able to close it for the day!”

Saeyoung thought he was going to burst, “Did you work here a few years ago? In the summer?”

MC lips curled into a smug smile. She knew where this was going, “I did.”

“So…you were…this is…”

“Where we first met,” she said gently, intertwining her fingers with his.

“And where we first met,” Saeran chimed in, smiling at MC.

“HUH? Sorry…WHAT?!” Saeyoung yelled, one hand taking a fistful of his hair as he tried to wrap his head around everything.

Saeran and MC couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up in their throats. They explained everything to him, about how Saeran had come in a year after he did, how MC thought he was Saeyoung, how that was the reason MC joined the RFA. It was so crazy Saeyoung needed to sit down, but his smile never faltered.

After that was cleared up, they all enjoyed the rest of the celebration. Zen organised the karaoke, Jumin and Jaehee set up the party games, Yoosung and MC were in charge of ice cream, and V took photos of the whole thing. He captured every smile, every laugh and every tear of joy. It was a truly magical day, one that neither twin ever thought was possible for them.

It was stupid late when everyone decided it was time to go home. MC locked up, saying that she would deal with the mess in the morning since it was going to be closed anyway, and the three strolled home together.

MC linked arms with the two most precious people in her life, tugging them close to her side. They walked in a comfortable silence for a while, until Saeyoung spoke up, “One thing still doesn’t make sense though.”

MC cocked an eyebrow, “And what’s that?”

“When you thought Saeran was me, how did you know it was my birthday? Surely you wouldn’t have remembered the date?”

“Well, the one time you came in was on your birthday. I thought it must have been a tradition, since the time of year seemed about right. Lucky guess, I suppose.”

“Okay, I got it…actually no I don’t. I’m sorry but isn’t it just too weird?” he looked to Saeran, “Like, how did we both go to the same ice cream shop on the same day of the year and meet the SAME girl? Then you brought her to the same organisation that I was in and then we got to live like this? After everything that went down?”

Saeran smiled gently, “I think even we deserve a bit of good luck every know and then. It is funny though, that even when we were apart, we were basically connected through MC.”

“The universe has a strange way of working everything out,” MC said softly, “and anyway, I think that’s the thing about twins,” MC squeezed both their arms,

“Despite all odds, they are never stray too far from one another.”

***

Big love for the Choi bois <3 again I am so sorry this isn’t my best writing, but I still hope you enjoyed it! x

Masterlist

[neocityfics]

2096: Zodiac

Chapter: Chapter 2 < ❝  Chapter 3 ❞  > Chapter 4

➥ Chapter List

Genre: Cyberpunk inspired, mafia, not-so dystopian, angst, slow-burn

Pairing: Doctor! Taeyong x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stalking (last part)

Note: This chapter is mostly for getting to know Taeyong and a little bit more about the Zodiacs. Next chapter will be a lot more action packed! I’m also starting a new college term, so updates may or may not be shorter, depending on how classes go. I hope you enjoy!

⠀

⠀

▶ Ambience

⠀

9am again on Monday morning, the usual routine and the usual walk, but thankfully alongside Lucas this time. Though not as bustling as it is on Friday nights, the clinic is up on its feet, ready to take in an influx of patients. First thing in the morning after clocking in for the shift and prepping some equipment for the nurses, I check to see where Taeyong might be hanging around. Lo and behold, he’s already been moving hurriedly between wings tending to patients who have been admitted overnight, many for burn wounds from a big fire in one of the cell phone stores at the other side of the building. Nurses in low voices chat about what happened, though I don’t feel the desire to butt in and join the conversations. The weekend was tiresome, and I didn’t want to start my week with more exhausting things than I needed to. For a moment, Taeyong eyes me while preparing a syringe with a pale yellow liquid. It’s justifiable that I can’t look at him the same at work, right? He’s got my best friend and me wrapped around his finger. I tell myself to try to be professional at work, but the icky feelings pop up whenever I see or think about him. That split second of eye contact sends me away, walking over to the receptionist’s desk to ask for more duties until I feel a tug at my scrub. “Dr. Taeyong wants us in Meeting Room 3 in half an hour,” Lucas starts. The serious expression on his face turns into a grand smile as he says, “and he’s got donuts! The really fancy brand from uptown apparently.” I breathe out a long sigh, though a donut sounds good to my stomach right now which is close to empty. My typical breakfast consists of an apple or orange and no more than that. As if on cue, the lions in my stomach grumble. Nodding my head as confirmation, he and I swiftly work on spraying the rooms with a quat disinfectant and wiping down surfaces. 

Time’s up, I say to myself looking at the chunky clock fixed on the wall behind the front desk. Lucas and I give each other a fist bump and start towards the meeting room. When we arrive, the door is ajar and the two of us slip inside. As Taeyong promised Lucas, on the table lies a box of donuts intricately designed with fancy yet hard-to-read lettering. Taeyong sits across from us, hunched over a few documents, a small case to his left. “Close the door, please,” he asks and beckons us to sit down. Lucas gives me a reassuring look, closing the door behind us and guides us to our seats. Without another thought, he grabs two donuts, one for himself and one for me. He remembers my favorite flavor, and I happily accept it. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the donuts. Now that the three of us are here, let me show you this.” Taeyong rests his chin in his palm, the other hand sliding a document over to our side of the table. Lucas and I lean over  to see the tiny print on the paper. It seems to be a list of tools I recognize instantly. Medical equipment? Scalpel. Vital sign monitor. Centrifuge. Why does he need a centrifuge? Twenty items. I wonder what he’s scheming. Taeyong laughs and I shoot him a glare. I look at Lucas and realize that he and I just gave the same face. “Anyways,” he clears his throat, “I need you two to find all of these things by the end of today. But here’s the catch. You cannot gather them all up at once. Space it out, leave it in my office behind my desk.” He peers over our shoulders as if to check nobody would hear his next words. “If you do that, suspicion will be raised. Remember, this is a tiny clinic and we don’t have much.” Then why steal stuff if it’s important to keep up with the patients? This plan doesn’t make sense to me, but it appears I have to comply.

“So you’re saying that I,” I pause to look at Lucas and correct myself, “we have to go on a scavenger hunt throughout the day, on top of our already tiring work?” A loud scoff escapes my mouth, maybe louder than I thought since Lucas nudged me. But I don’t care, I will air out my opinions. “I’m just a messenger. Why can’t you do this yourself? Plus Lucas shouldn’t have to do it since you’re literally experimenting on him.” Crossing my arms and leaning more forward, I stare down Taeyong who seems to shrink away.

“I know I’m asking for you two to do more than you probably bargained for. But you realize… I’m one of the very few licensed practitioners, right? Most of the others are merely college degree holders.” Those words sting as they remind me that I haven’t finished, same with Lucas whose shoulders I noticed droop at his statement. “Plus, if I do this by myself, the potential for suspicion raises. I need you two.” I rub at my forehead. He makes valid points, annoyingly. Now isn’t the time to be selfish, especially with Lucas and a possible promotion at stake. Looking at it from a broader perspective, I’d be putting my own feelings over the clinic’s as well as patients’ well-being. I’m not going to let those emotions rule over me. Taking Taeyong away from his work here would make others suffer, a scenario that would only lead downhill into chaos.

Lucas finally chimes in, “We’ll get it done! Won’t we?” He looks at me with those damned puppy eyes he does whenever he wants me to be nicer. After an eye roll and a light punch to his shoulder, I agree to take on the mission. Lucas gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and pushes himself off the chair. “We should get started.” He stuffs his mouth with another donut and grabs another one of my favorites and urges me to get up. “Let’s make this into a competition!” he excitedly suggests. I don’t think I can turn down a good opportunity to play games, especially since shifts feel so long and tedious. I nod, looking at Taeyong to see if anything else needed to be said. The doctor simply readjusts the glasses on his face and shoos us away. Lucas and I turn and leave the room.

As we leave through the door, I slightly turn to him with a hushed “Also,” I whisper over to Lucas who’s already in a giggle fit, “you’re going down!” With that, we tend to our duties for the day, grabbing things on the way out of rooms we work in, and putting them in the designated area for Taeyong to collect. We keep a mental tally throughout the day, and I’m winning-- or so I thought. Lucas ends up winning the scavenger hunt, finding eleven items. I found nine. The prize? The rest of the donuts at the end of shift, which is a bummer. Though Taeyong, Lucas, and I are heading over to Electric Egg, my stomach growled embarrassingly loud while Lucas snacked on the extra fancy donuts. Shifts at Pearl Park drain you, but they always made trips to Electric Egg much more rewarding.

⠀

▶ Ambience

⠀

We arrive where Sicheng diligently works away at the grill, skewering bits of chicken onto kabob sticks while flames wildly dance beneath the assortment of meats. After Lucas and I hop out of the car, Taeyong drives it down a street to park, uneasy about where the food stalls are for fear of getting hijacked. Three of us place our orders, and Sicheng makes his own food to accompany us for a chat. Now a party of four, we sit at a round table and Lucas introduces Taeyong. “This is Dr. Lee, he’s the coolest doctor at Pearl Park! Smart and handsome guy,” he says, his elbow playfully nudging Taeyong’s arm. The doctor simply sits there and inhales his food, a sight I did not expect from him. But he must be hungry, having the top practicing position in the clinic. Thinking about the things he has seen working there must be nauseating at times, though he’s probably used to it. Sicheng nods, introduces himself as the Electric Egg man, ‘Eggman’ for short, and holds out his hand for the doctor to shake, maybe too unabashedly as the neon lights hovering over us highlight the shiny grease on Sicheng’s hand. Taeyong, who notices the slimy-looking texture, pinches his pointer finger and thumb around one of Sicheng’s fingers. They shake, timidly, and Sicheng lets out a laugh while Lucas hands Taeyong a napkin. The doctor roughly wipes the food oils off his hand. For whatever nostalgia I’m experiencing, this moment feels nice. Two friends, an acquaintance (or boss, whatever he may think I call him), and myself. Right now it feels… normal. 

Right after introductions, Sicheng boasts, “By the way, I stole this from a butcher’s shop, don’t tell anyone. It’s premium meat!” Lucas exaggerates a gasp which earns soft laughs from the rest of the table. Taeyong jokingly scolds Sicheng for stealing, though it doesn’t seem he’s totally against it. After all, we live and breathe in Neostone, a hot spot for crime. He shifts in his seat, checks his phone, and the screen turns off in a split second. Repeatedly poking my shoulder, he explains that he’s about to work a graveyard shift.

“Rent’s due at the end of this week, so I’m picking up an extra shift,” he says while he collects his coat. Paying rent at our micro-apartment complex has always been a rough rollercoaster. Some months are easier than others, and it’s getting harder especially with more acid rainfall than usual. Damage to buildings requires higher rent. I nod and tug at Sicheng’s sleeve to let him know of Lucas’s sudden departure. He notices and gets up to grab a container for the remainder of Lucas’s food. I help pack up some of the food while Taeyong also starts to put on his jacket. Lucas and Sicheng exchange goodbyes and Lucas takes off for the clinic. That leaves Taeyong and I next to thank Sicheng for the food, shaking hands as we leave. He deeply bows and goes back to the other customers.

Stopping outside of his car, Taeyong turns to me. “Thanks for taking me here, the food’s really good. Sicheng is pretty cool, too.” He softly smiles, my own lips reciprocating. It came as a bit of a shock hearing those words when I’ve gotten accustomed to his usual harsh tone. I’m glad he’s comfortable around Sicheng. Despite the low chance of them ever interacting further than meals at Electric Egg, it’s good to know he probably won’t involve Sicheng in our state of affairs. Plus, it must’ve been exhausting having to work, work, work all day. Living alone, too, and getting to know other people outside of the clinic bubble might be good for him, though I’m not one to dictate what and who he’s comfortable with. I still am wary of his behavior and intentions, but… I think it might be okay. He seems more warmed up than when we first met. Taeyong opens the door for me to slip into the passenger seat. He takes the wheel on the other side and drives us to his apartment where our plans will be sorted out.

⠀

▶ Ambience

⠀

Taeyong and I trudge up the stairs, lugging boxes of the equipment we gathered from the clinic earlier. Upon reaching the apartment, he sets down his boxes and unlocks the door, pushing through to the interior. The very few times I’ve visited here, there’s such a stark difference between his place and the world surrounding it. Warm, inviting, cozy, luxurious. Not like the cold streets or the dingy micro-apartments, a neverendless blanket of smog and musky smells weighing down on the mega city. But here, it felt like home, the one I used to have, and all the comforts that came with it. Taeyong gently tugs my sleeve to pull me  in, taking off a few of the smaller boxes off my stack I’ve been carrying. I utter a low ‘thanks’ before placing the equipment in the room where I first discovered his whole operation on Lucas. Since we’re alone and Lucas isn’t here to stop me from running my mouth, I decided it’s time to get to know Taeyong better. There’s no deadline, no timeframe, no plan provided, so if I have to continue this messenger job under him for a long time, I might as well get to understand him better. For future references. Taeyong plops down on the sofa. “Make yourself at home. You’ll be here a lot from now on, anyways.”

I comply, making myself comfortable on a plush chair adjacent to his seat. He seems tired out, but I decide to press on. “Doc— Sorry. Taeyong, since we’re working together, I feel like we should know the basics about each other. Where we came from, what life was like before 2094, why he’s a doctor, why I’m stuck at the clinic, stuff like that,” I pause, examining any signs from his face. But he’s blank-faced. He points a finger at me, insinuating that I go first. Well, it’s not like I’ve kept my story a secret. Pretty much everyone I’ve become close to, including friends from the food stall street, knows everybody else’s life before all went to shit. Sharing our struggle stories is what makes us closer. Plus, despite being one of the twelve megacities, Neostone felt small, like being trapped in a bubble with no way out. “Me?” Taeyong simply nods, and I begin to tell him every detail, from growing up to college to now after the disaster. I tell him about Lucas and our friendship to which he responds with no words, but a soft expression. Even for someone who’s most likely weary from the day, he seems to listen intently. His elbows perch on his knees, his torso leaning forward and head tilting at different points of my story. When I run out of words, I gesture to him that it’s his turn to spill. A long sigh fills the space.

“You already, don’t you?” I raise a brow at his question, a heartbeat in my chest skipped. “The page of my information, you have it.” I shifted nervously, playing with the trim on one of the arms of the chair. “In any case, you are only aware of my achievements. But I was pushed a lot as a young child by my parents. I do love them, but my childhood felt restricted. From then on, I never sought out others. I either let them come to me, or I never talk to them. Ever.” A faint chortle follows a brief silence. “Though I have one close friend who sticks with me even to this day. Doyoung, you’ll meet him this week when the shipment arrives.” He must have a personal and trusting relationship with this person. I couldn’t imagine this Dr. Lee being anything but playfully mean and cold. Doyoung must be a good person. Taeyong proceeds further, “Oh, also, I was part of the S.O.G Project.”

“What the hell is S.O.G?”

“Special Operations for the Gifted. It was a series of supposedly non-invasive and supposedly safe trials where children who performed extremely well throughout their early education were put to the test. How far can you go without breaking the limits? Natural law?” He removes himself from the prior position and relaxes his back against the sofa cushions behind him. “Do you know why I’m part of the Dragon Zodiac?” The answer is not as evident as I shake my head in disbelief. “Each person in the Zodiac has gone through the S.O.G. Those of similar abilities banded together, and now we have the twelve Zodiacs. Dragons are those who are able to manipulate objects in one way or another. For me, metal manipulation.”

The pieces start to fall in together. That’s why his handiwork is so seamless. Should I be shocked? Taeyong is full of surprises, He speaks again, “There are hundreds of us in Zodiacs. Some children don’t even remember they went through S.O.G. Myself included. Doyoung, who was in mostly the same tests as me, recalls everything. It’s not fun to think about.” Questions run through my mind, but the pain in his face tells me to keep quiet. “These mutations plagued us even before 2094. I don’t know about the progress made or the research done, but the project was abandoned right before the disaster.” He detects the confusion on my face to which he brings up again that he knows nothing else about S.O.G. Another heavy sigh loads the room. “I’m sure you have questions.”

As sure as he is, I don’t want him to feel like he has to expose everything about himself to me. This already appears to be a lot for him, especially now that it’s late. But I do want to say something, though not centered on him. After a small pause to gather my voice, I ask about someone who’s close to him and seems to be comforting, “So what’s Doyoung’s special power? What’s he like? What Zodiac is he in?” Taeyong tilts his head, as if expecting me to ask more about him, but he smiles at the gesture.

“He’s a Rabbit, known for their hyperawareness. Their reflexes are out of the world and their attention to details make them very clever. Doyoung is a very calm and collected person, but is very lucky with getting what he wants. It’s annoying, really.” He rubs the back of his left hand with his right thumb. “But he’s helped me a lot through the S.O.G tests.” Listening to Taeyong talk about Doyoung makes me miss Lucas, though we have not been together for as long as the other two have. But it makes all the difference having someone, especially in your roughest patches and darkest of times. I think I can start to mostly trust Taeyong. Of course, I have to keep my guard up, but listening to him talk makes me feel a bit more at ease about us working together. Taeyong closes his eyes. The ticking of the clock becomes louder as it strikes eleven o’ clock. “Anything else you want to ask?”

It’s time to call it a night, I say to myself. But in that same thought, I remember the encounter with Jaehyun and decide to ask. It might be better to ask now rather than later, to avoid a potentially bigger mess. Johnny warned me not to get myself too involved with the man, but it’s scratching at the back of my head. “Well, do you know Jeong Jaehyun?”

Taeyong’s eyes widened in an instant, snapping his head from its resting position to look at me. “Jaehyun. He’s the leader of the Ox Zodiac. Why?” I gulp. This is serious then. “Was he at Club Zone? Please tell me you did not talk to him.”

My voice lowers to a wavering whisper, “Well… Just a little,” while I hold up to make my pointer and finger close together. Maybe it was more than just a little, but he doesn’t need to know all the details. Just that I met him. The look of concern on Taeyong grows.

“He’s dangerous. You should stay away from him as much as possible.” The uneasy feeling is back. That night is a bit fuzzy from the light drinking, the noise, the dancing, the whole atmosphere. If any information slipped that I shouldn’t have, or if he caught on with what I’m doing for Taeyong, it could mean big time. Taeyong rubs his temples, lowering his chin. “He’s a very important part of our operation.” He inhales sharply and lets the built up air back out the second after, “Jaehyun and I made a promise that if I can show him I can make a fully functional prototype, a.k.a Lucas, he will provide me more of his men. The Ox Zodiac is known for extremely enhanced strength. They’re brutes, not to be messed with.” My head starts to feel dizzy from the amount of information combined with the exhaustion from work. He continues, “He’s an assassin, but covers for himself by working in real estate. Jaehyun is the closest one could get to the top. He’s our only connection that can help, unfortunately.” To my shock, he seems very distressed at this topic. “Word spreads fast between the Zodiacs, and we can’t afford to lose Jaehyun. You need to be careful when you’re doing your messenger duties. But remember, know your boundaries. You work for me, not him. Not the entire Dragon Zodiac either.” He accompanies his demanding tone with a pointer finger firmly pressed to the coffee table. Now, I understand the true gravity of the situation. I can’t risk Taeyong and the operation going under. I can’t be careless.

Speak of the devil.

My phone buzzes loudly in my pocket, lighting up through the fabric. With a vexed sigh, I pull it out and read the name flashing across the screen from the caller ID. Jeong Jaehyun. I take a peak at Taeyong who’s staring at me. “It’s him.” He simply tells me to pick up.

“Let me know what he says.” I nod. Hesitantly, I press the accept button.

“Missed me?” Jaehyun’s voice pierces through the line.

“Jaehyun. Why are you calling me so late at night?”

“So there’s a mansion party, and I have admissions for two. But as of right now, I’m going solo. I was wondering if you’d be able to come with me. It’s a really important event for real estate agents and upper class entrepreneurs.”

I quietly relay the information to Taeyong, the phone pressed against my chest to prevent Jaehyun from hearing. Taeyong rubs a finger to his chin in deep thought. “Are you okay with going? I know I said to stay away, but this is a good opportunity for us to make more connections.” I nod, but a little frazzled at the thought of being put in another uncomfortable situation. Isn’t my job simply to send information back and forth between him and other Zodiac members?

I breathe in deeply. “What time and where?” Jaehyun the describes the location, making it seem very grandeur and huge. This Saturday at 7pm. My stomach starts to hurt again from the nervousness. He says it’s formal attire, but will have something for me upon picking me up. Taeyong paces back and forth across the room. I note all the information in my head, making myself more dizzy than I already am. What makes me freeze is Jaehyun’s next query.

“Are you with Taeyong right now?”

I stood there, Taeyong and I keeping each other’s stare.

“No. Why?”

“You’re lying.”

“How do you know? I’m by myself at home.”

“I see you with him. How’s the brown sofa? Comfy right? And that green coffee table looks exquisite. It looks like it’s from that expensive brand, what’s it called... Boca Do Lobo?”

Jaehyun continues to taunt me, my eyes verifying that the coffee table indeed is from that brand, and then lowering to the floor in perplexity. Taeyong immediately springs into action. He closes the blinds and curtains and ensures all doors are shut tight. He’s locking down the apartment.

“I have my eyes on you. I’ll come pick you up on Saturday at 5PM to get ready for the party. See you soon,” he sings into the call, ending it before I could get another word out.

The blonde-headed doctor and I both have widened eyes at what just happened. My voice croaks out of fear, “How can he see us?” Taeyong presses a palm to his forehead and pushes his hair back, revealing small sweat droplets.

“I don’t know. But you can’t go home. He might follow you and find out about Lucas and take him for himself. You need to stay here.” His tone drops low and gentle as if to not wake up his neighbors in the rooms next to his. There’s no other way, and I obviously don’t want Lucas to be snatched. Taeyong, seeing that I’m visibly shaken and overloaded with information, pulls me into a hug which surprises me. At first, the wariness from the phone call heightened, but this silent embrace makes me feel a bit more relaxed. I trust that Taeyong won’t let Jaehyun hurt me, so I think staying here will be the best option.

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Camping here. This is your apartment.”

“But your safety is most important, I still need you for this project.” Though the reminder that I’m bound to this chaos hurts, I let loose the remaining tenseness in my body. I’m falling asleep in the warmth that radiates from his hug. My head is heavy. My eyes are closing. I feel myself being lifted up. Taeyong’s voice is merely a murmur. “I’ll put you in the guest bedroom. Rest up well.” The plush sheets underneath me feel like I’m laying on a cloud, my hands automatically circling the softness and gaining some sort of consolation. I can no longer string coherent thoughts. Taeyong pulls a comforter up to my chin, turns off the light, and leaves the door ajar. “Let me know if you need anything.”

I was not expecting such hospitality, but I’m damn grateful for it. The day has been a lot, and the rest of the week ahead will be nerve-wracking as Saturday will come closer and closer. There’s no way to avoid it now. I’m going to have to deal with Jaehyun again.

I wonder what Lucas is up to. I’d love to call him, but he’s still at his shift. I hope he comes home safely, unharmed, happy. The phone in my hand keeps slowly dropping, but I try to fight it to press on Lucas’s contact while my surroundings darken. But I didn’t get to press his name. I let the fatigue take over me, at least for now until the next day.

⠀

Jaehyun’s going to pay for this.

[vmheadquarters]

Welcome to…

We’re going to play a game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors will take turns telling this story. Each writer will craft a chapter (with no prior planning) and then “toss” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected! Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. — Chapter Two of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @nearfantastica​.

And stayed tuned next week for Ch.3 from @saoirsekonstantin​ -tag, you’re it!———————————————————————————————————– [CH1]

CHAPTER TWO by @nearfantastica​ a/k/a casket4mytears

“Of course he’s dead.  Murder mystery weekend?” Dick rolled his eyes.  “Look, we all know Ronnie’s gonna work her PI magic and solve this with ten minutes of searching Google.  Nerd.  Can we go back inside and drink now?”

“No Dick,” Logan gently chastised, as if explaining to his child yet again that he couldn’t grow up and be a Jedi.  “This isn’t part of the game.  He’s actually dead.”

Gia spun around, poking Luke in the chest.  “I did not sign up for actual dead bodies, Luke.  You told me this would be fun.”

A lump formed in Veronica’s throat as she stared at the lifeless form of Leo D’Amato.  Years ago, before Lilly’s murder, she’d considered following in father’s footsteps and pursuing a career in law enforcement.  She’d toyed with the idea anew last summer at her FBI internship, the possibilities a Rubik’s Cube spun deftly in her palms.  Moments like these reminded her why she’d veered towards practicing law instead.  

Bodies, especially those of people she knew, unsettled her.  The inertia of them, the inconsistency… she couldn’t reconcile it.  People breathe.  People move.  At Lilly’s funeral, she remembered whispering to her father that it wasn’t Lilly—that Lilly was never still.  That they should shut the casket, because Lilly would hate to be remembered as motionless.

“Veronica?”

She was coaxed back to the present by the sound of Logan’s voice, concerned and closer than she expected it.  He was crouched beside her, shining his light over the body.  Casting her own Maglite across the ice, she noticed something fluttering beneath the camping lantern.  Hmm…

“You okay?  I know that you and Leo… were friendly.”

Veronica huffed softly.  “We dated.  Briefly, until I cheated on him with you.  I’m fine, Logan.”  Glancing over at him, she smiled gratefully.  “Thank you for asking.”

Logan’s gloved hand reached for hers, offering a reassuring squeeze.  For a moment, she lost herself in the depths of his eyes, all fears of frostbite forgotten as her heart panged with regret.  Seven months, nine days and six hours, and no bookie in Vegas would touch the odds of her moving past Logan Echolls now. 

Focus, Veronica!

Gently extricating her hand from Logan’s, Veronica rose slowly to her feet, circling around the pool of blood towards the lantern.  She kept her eyes downcast, scanning for footprints, drag marks, anything of use, but saw nothing.  The blustery winds of the snowstorm were swiftly disposing of evidence for the killer.  Retrieving her phone from her jeans pocket, she began snapping photos of the fluttering object in situ—well aware the police would be furious she was touching it at all.

“Phone.  Good idea!” Casey enthused.  “We need the cops here now.”

“Casey, do you really think there’s reception on Death Island on a good day, let alone during a storm like this?” Carrie sneered.  “Do you see a cell phone tower anywhere?”

Casey bristled, adjusting the collar of his parka. “Technological advancements being what they are—“

“I have no bars and I’m just taking photos,” Veronica snapped, reaching down to retrieve the mystery object.

Now this might be useful…

“Hey, hey!�� She’s hogging all of the clues!” Cole protested, tapping Kimmy on the arm.

Brushing a tear from her cheek, Kimmy shoved him aside.  “You idiot!  This isn’t a game anymore!  How many drinks did you have tonight?”

“ENOUGH,” Logan warned, silencing the chatter.  “Veronica, what is that?”

“It’s a folded sheet of paper,” she replied, tucking it in her pocket.  “It’s too wet out here.  If it has writing on it, I don’t want the snow to damage it.  We should read it inside the house.”

“No, what we should do is get the hell out of here, fast!”  Wallace shouted.  “I’ve seen my share of horror movies.  As the only person of color in this group, that means I’m the likeliest to end up with a knife, a bullet or a fish hook in my gut.”

Veronica frowned, stepping forward to console him.  “Wallace, it’s going to be okay—“

Wallace’s arms flew up in the air.  “For you, maybe!  You’re the Final Girl!  White girl, PI, your ex dead on the ice.  Come on now, Supafly.  Name a horror movie where a Black man lives to the end.  No, we need off this rock.  And until we’re off it, I go where you go.  You feel me?”

“Where else would you go?  I’m your plus one,” she soothed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.  Lowering her voice, she whispered, “I need to check one thing and then we’re headed back to the house to figure a way out of here, okay?”

Wallace nodded anxiously, glancing sideways at Logan.  “Alright.  But we need to bounce.”

“No arguments here.”

Reluctantly, she circled Leo’s body and snapped photos from a variety of angles.  Fighting the urge to vomit, she reached inside his jacket pocket, retrieving his wallet and a set of car keys, but finding no other papers or items of note.  Satisfied she had everything useful, she headed back to the warmth of the mansion, eager to escape the sleet pelting her bare cheeks.  Logan and Wallace—ever helpful in a crisis--ushered the party guests along behind her.

As she trudged through the snow, Veronica considered her priorities:  contact authorities; secure evidence; keep everyone together.  Wallace was right:  they needed to get off the island or engage law enforcement as quickly as possible.  In the meantime, if a killer was on this island with them, safety would be found in numbers.  Cell service was a bust, but surely the sprawling home had a landline or other means of communication with the outside world.  No one wealthy enough to construct a home this beautiful would leave themselves without a means of calling in the cavalry.

“Why was that guy here?” Kimmy sniffled as Veronica opened the front door.  “Who even invited him?  He didn’t go to Neptune High, did he?”

“He went to a dance, once,” Carrie replied.  “I’m surprised you don’t remember it, Kimmy.  Meg invited him for Veronica.  Shouldn’t you have that memorized as part of your body snatching?”

“And I thought it was icy outside,” Wallace muttered quietly. 

“Just remember: you made me come to this party, Papa Bear.”

Kimmy tugged on Veronica’s sleeve, spinning her around.  “Wait, you were dating the dead guy?  Doesn’t that make you a suspect?”

“Dated, as in past tense.  It’s been years, and we only went out a few times,” Veronica replied dismissively, yanking her arm away.  “Leo and I were friends.  Besides, the state of the body… he was dead before Wallace and I arrived.”

“She’s dating that radio dweeb now… Pizzle,” Dick interjected, pouring out a martini.

Veronica stared at her boots, avoiding Logan’s gaze as Wallace mercifully jumped into the conversation.  “Also past tense.  They split up in the summer.  We haven’t seen him since we flew out to New York to visit him at Presbyterian, right V?”

“Mmm-hmm.”  Just keep staring at the tiles…

“Poor guy got hit by a bus, the last week of his summer internship.  He’s still in the hospital there, full body traction, head trauma,” Wallace continued.  “Guy wasn’t even conscious when we were there.”

“Damn.  I’m sorry to hear that,” Logan offered quietly.

“Says the guy who rearranged his ribs and face?” Wallace snapped.

Veronica laid a warning hand on his arm.  “Wallace… You promised.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”  With a heavy sigh, Wallace stormed across the room to console a shuddering Alexis Link.

Veronica shot an apologetic look at Logan, who shrugged it off.  It’s fine, he mouthed.  It wasn’t—that much was clear from the crestfallen look that flickered across his features—but she would apologize in depth later.  Her relationship with Piz, and its demise, had nothing to do with Logan’s fists of fury.  Their ending was the product of a man who couldn’t see the hypocrisy in pursuing his internship and dreams, while holding her solely responsible for the long distance between them as she rightfully pursued hers.  She’d ended it while still in Quantico, moving on to Stanford without looking back.

Well, not at him, anyway, she amended silently. 

“You know, it’s funny,” Carrie Bishop mused aloud.  “I heard that Troy Vandegraff died in a car accident over the holidays.  Didn’t you date him in junior year?”

“I did, for a little while.  That’s a shame…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Veronica noticed Dick tugging Logan behind the bar, struggling to wrap his hand around his bicep.  How are Logan’s arms even bigger than I remember them?  Logan’s expression was one of bemusement, his feet firmly planted in place.

“Black Widow,” Dick muttered ominously.  “I’m not letting you end up on Dateline, dude.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I can take care of myself,” Logan insisted, moving to Veronica’s side.

Dick formed his index fingers into a cross, holding them up in Veronica’s direction.  “Fine.  Your funeral, and I’m so not sending flowers.”

Drawing a deep breath to steady herself (and to resist the urge to chuck the ornamental bowl beside her at Dick’s stupid head), Veronica smacked her palm on the table.  “As much fun as rehashing my love life has been, there’s a dead man on the pond and a killer loose on the island.  Priorities, people?”

Sweeping her Maglite over the group of partygoers, Veronica studied them all in turn:  Wallace, her best friend, consoling a crying Alexis to her right; Carrie and Susan, imbibing with tense expressions on the sofa; Casey and Kimmy, upset, but holding it together; a shocked Luke clinging to a distraught Gia; and Cole and Dick, both of whom seemed too intoxicated to fully appreciate what was happening.  And then there was Logan to her left, whose worried gaze was laser-focused on her.

“Okay, since cell phones are a bust, has anyone seen a landline?”

A lot of shaking heads, save one:  Susan Knight hesitated, her brow furrowing.  “Hmm… I might have seen one in the kitchen earlier?”

Carrie Bishop drained the frothy white concoction in her hand.  “I’ll go look with you.”

“Cole, you go too,” Veronica ordered.

Carrie huffed angrily and advanced towards Veronica.  “Of all the people in this group, the last I would expect sexist bullshit from—“

“Actually, I just want him out of my sight for five minutes and know you can take care of him.  Thanks for being a pal, Carrie.”

Cole’s protests were silenced by Carrie’s arm looping around his, dragging him down the long corridor towards what Veronica assumed was the kitchen.  Not that she and Wallace had gotten that far.  Damn it, they hadn’t even managed a drink before this had all gone to hell. 

Speaking of, Dick was still at the bar, making what were likely terrible, overly strong martinis in the dark. 

“Hey, bring back snacks!” Wallace called after them.  “Chips, Cheetos, a man’s not picky.”

Alexis pulled away from his embrace, tears streaming down her face.  “Are you serious right now?”

“It was a long trip and I’m hungry!” Wallace protested. 

Extracting Leo’s wallet from her pocket, Veronica flipped through the contents, finding little of interest.  Driver’s licence, debit card, credit cards, photos of his sister and his mother.  One item stood out:  a current private investigator’s licence for the state of California.  Huh.  If she did the math… he would have renewed it recently.  Last she’d heard, he was still working as a Deputy for Balboa County, although her information could be out of date.

Now, for the key find:  the mystery paper pinned beneath the camping lantern on the ice.  Veronica carefully unfolded it on the coffee table and shone her Maglite on it.  What she found left her reeling.

It was page three of a case file from Van Lowe Investigations—and according to the header, the lead investigator was none other than Leo D’Amato himself.  The text was smeared in several places from the snow, and being the third page, the notes were difficult to follow in places, but what Veronica could pick up…

“What’s that?” Casey asked.

“Motive for murder,” Veronica replied coolly, snapping photos of the page before carefully re-folding it. 

“So’s being your ex,” Casey remarked dryly, earning a glare from the petite blonde.  “What?  We’re all thinking it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Troy and Piz had accidents.  Piz?  That was five months ago.  Hardly relevant to—“

The thud of hurried footsteps approaching drew the attention of the group.  Heads turned towards Susan, breathless and distraught, with Carrie and Cole in close pursuit.

“The phones are dead,” she panted.  “But not just dead.  They’re cut.”

Logan cast his flashlight in their direction.  “Cut?”

“The wire was cut,” Cole blurted out, visibly shaking.  “So we ran upstairs, because Carrie remembered a phone in her bedroom.  But that one was cut too.  We checked all the rooms upstairs, but every single phone was cut.  Slashed like buddy’s throat out there.”

“What did I tell you?” Wallace snapped.  “Veronica, we need to go.  A brother’s about to get filleted.”

“Oh hey, found you a Milky Way!” Cole added absently, tossing a chocolate bar in Wallace’s direction.

With an exasperated sigh, Wallace unwrapped the chocolate and waved it in Veronica’s direction.  “Look at this.  My last meal’s going to be the weakest chocolate bar there is.  Some Mars Magic, please?”

Veronica’s mouth fell open to speak, but she found herself cut off by Dick Casablancas, now wearing a tiny bow tie and carrying a tray full of martinis, as he circulated the room.

“No, no way.  If we’re dying, we’re having one last drink first!” Dick insisted.  “I made us chocolate martinis and we’re gonna down these bitches and say a big fuck you to murder, and then Veronica can order Logan around like her lapdog.”

“Dick,” Logan warned.

“What?  Like we all don’t know she’s still got your scrotum in her super purse next to Mr. Zappy or whatever she calls that thing?”  Dick handed martinis to an eager Gia and Luke with a flourish.  “As Class Party Boy Peter Bogart, my alcoholism means I call ‘em like I see them.  Wallace is the token, so he’s toast.  I’m the frat boy, so I’m done-zo.  Might as well die drunk and happy.”

“No one is going to die!” Veronica shouted.  “Not if we stick together and work fast.”

“I don’t recall voting you in charge, Veronica Mars,” Gia sneered, sipping her martini. “I say we drink first.”

As Dick continued to pass around martinis, Veronica nudged Logan in the arm.  “This is why I am not going to Neptune High’s reunion.”

“I’ll handle this.”  Moving into the centre of the room, Logan sighed. “Fine, let’s take a vote:  all in favor of drinking a martini before trying to call the police or leave the island?”

Gia, Luke, Dick, Cole, and Kimmy raised their hands.

“All in favor of leaving right now before anyone else ends up dead?”

Veronica, Logan, Wallace, Carrie, Susan, Alexis and Casey raised their hands.

“Majority says survival over booze.  Sorry Gia, Veronica’s in charge now,” he added wryly.

“Thank you.”  Tugging on her gloves, Veronica rolled her shoulders back.  “We have no landlines and no cell phone service.  Our best bet to call for help is also our way off the island:  the Irish Wake.  Even if the storm’s too bad to leave yet, we can try using the radio to call the coast guard for assistance.  I say we head for the caretaker’s cottage and get the captain’s help.”

“Okay, have fun doing that.  We’ll stay here and drink martinis,” Kimmy replied, sipping her drink.  “Ooh!  Is this Godiva liqueur, Dick?”

Dick clinked glasses with her, grinning.  “Hell yeah!”

“No, we are all going,” Veronica insisted.  “We need to stick together to stay safe.”

Gia’s leg raised in the air, dangling a knee-high leather boot with a blood-red sole and a three-inch heel.  “Do these Louboutins look like they were made for trudging around the grounds of this place?  I barely made it to the pond alive.”

“So change them,” Veronica snapped.

“I only brought my cute boots.”  As Luke began to shake his head, Gia pouted.  “You told me we were going to a party inside a beautiful house!  Why would I need hiking boots, Luke?  This is your fault.”

“Maybe the killer will take me next,” Luke mumbled.

“Or Gia,” Carrie muttered.

“No, it’s Logan next,” Dick insisted.  “Because of the Black Widow.”

Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Veronica rolled her eyes.  “Dick, shut up.  Gia, walk carefully.  Luke will help you.  Bring your martinis for all I care.”

As much as she wanted to abandon the group, grab Wallace and Logan and head off into the blinding snow as a trio, she’d learned years ago to keep everyone in her sight and trust nobody.  There would be no metaphorical backseat surprises tonight.  If she had to tie a rope around the waist of every 09’er here and drag them behind her through the drifts, she would. 

She and Wallace were innocent.  Everyone else was a suspect.

Even Logan?

Listening to the din of complaining rich kids, she stole a glance at her ex.  Even Logan.  Technically.  But I know he didn’t do this.

It was Logan who identified the location of the caretaker’s cottage as they stood on the front porch, a collective of shivering bodies whipped by icy shards from the west.  Visibility was near zero now, the wind cutting through the down filling of Veronica’s ski jacket, but Logan was able to just make out a small structure down a path that veered to the southwest of the property, lying between the dock and the mansion.

“That will be it,” he assured her.

“Lowly peasant I am, I’ll have to trust your expertise.”

“See the chimney, Veronica?  It’s a domicile, not a storage unit or barn.  Simple observation, not elitism.”

Veronica bit her tongue, pressing forward with Wallace at her side.  She was off her game, and their lives literally depended on her. Contact authorities, stick together, preserve the evidence.  Repeat mantra.  Her love life, or lack thereof, was a distraction.  Dick’s outburst—and Logan’s curiously sad expression ever since?  Also a distraction. 

“So, what was on the page?” Logan whispered.

His breath was hot on her ear and Veronica involuntarily shivered.  Body memory carried her to happier moments:  late-night conversations, their naked bodies entwined in tangled sheets.  The security of his muscular arms wrapped around her frame; her head pressed to his chest, counting the beats of his heart.  She bit the inside of her mouth, shocking herself back to the bitter cold of the present.

“Leo works—worked for Vinnie,” she began quietly.

Wallace edged closer and the trio picked up their pace, pulling away from the group.  “Worked for him?  He was a PI?”

“Apparently.”

“But he was friends with your dad.  Why wouldn’t he work for him?”

Veronica shrugged.  “Your guess is as good as mine, Wallace.  Dad probably turned him down, told him he could do better.  He’s always been a lone wolf.  Vinnie, on the other hand, would welcome the opportunity to recruit one of his own deputies for his OG business.”

“So the page was what, a case file?” Logan queried.

“A partial,” Veronica confirmed.  “The page was water-damaged, and I couldn’t find a name anywhere on it, but from what I could read, Leo had stumbled onto a cover-up of a crime, maybe a wrongful death?  It’s hard to tell with so much obscured.  If Leo had ammunition like that on someone here…”

Logan glanced back, taking stock of their present company. “Someone like Luke, who plans to run for Congress.  Or the Gants…”

“It’s a secret someone would kill for,” Veronica affirmed.

“But how did he get here?” Wallace asked.  “We had to give our names and a code word.  Did he come over with you?”

Logan shook his head.  “I came over with Dick, early this afternoon.  Same deal:  name and code word.  For Leo to cross, he would have needed an invite.”

“Maybe the captain knows something,” Veronica decided, veering down a narrow path towards the caretaker’s cottage. 

The cottage was more of a bungalow house, complete with a modest yard of its own.  It was nearly as large as Veronica’s childhood home, sprawling and framed with gardens edged in decorative stones.  Three steps led up to a porch of deep oak, where a heavy door without a window loomed as the entrance.  The curtains were all drawn, offering no view inside.

Without hesitation, Veronica jogged up the steps and pounded on the door.  “Hello?  Hello in there?  We have an emergency!”

No answer. 

Wallace approached, standing behind her.  “Knock again?”

“I might have my lock pick kit in my purse somewhere,” Veronica grumbled, shining her light inside.

Logan pounded on the door, calling out to the captain, to no avail.  “Yeah, I’m not getting a good feeling about this…”

Veronica’s stomach turned.  “Enter through the back door?”

“Title of your sex tape!” Dick called out, immediately clamping his hand over his mouth. 

Oh, he did NOT just go there!

Veronica’s hand closed around her Taser, pulling it from her purse.  “After all these years, Dick you still haven’t learned…”

No sooner had Logan and Wallace’s arms flown out to restrain her than the chilling sound of Gia Goodman’s screams rang out from the back of the cottage, startling a snowy owl into a frantic flight across the night sky.

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Short Story: Saito-san’s Days of Practice

First translation posts of the month (1 of 2 for translations +1 update [that one will not be tagged with hakuoki]), so please support me if you can either on ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/V7V2W0HO) or through paypal (paypal.me/KumoriYami )…. also let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my looking for list since i don’t have the audio for those…..

In regards to this translation, I honestly don’t know where this short story came from, but I’ve assumed that it showed up in one of the Dengeki or B-log magazines as they, in the past, have had other various Hakuoki short stories in them....I think? If anyone has information in regards to this,  I’d appreciate it to put that down here....

Aside from Saito’s story, I’ve only been able to find Chinese translations for Souji and Heisuke for these (don’t have a timeline on those right now, cuz holy shit these feel extreeeemely long. seriously!).... and have no intention of looking for the others at the moment (i gave up after more than an hour). If anyone does happen to find the others in Chinese... feel free to send them my way since I will add those to my list of torturous translations (i don’t wanna update my lookout list rn + plus I don’t want to add these to that list without knowing where these come from). 

Anyway, this story is told from Chizuru’s point of view, also the image is not mine.

Enjoy~<3

Hakuoki Short Story - Saito-san’s Days of Practice

Translation by KumoriYami

The silence of the temple was disturbed by the sound of Saito-san slicing the air with a wooden sword. He repeated his movements smoothly, from top to bottom, [then] from left to right.

During this quiet morning, after hearing the sound of sword practice in the temple as I was heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, I couldn't help but stop.

"Ah......Saito-san?"

“Yukimura, today you woke up early? Are you going to prepare breakfast?”

"Yes, Saito-san, you are also up early."

Before my arrival, Saito-san had been practising for a while, [and] his cheeks were sweaty. I handed him the handkerchief I had with me to him, tilting my head as I asked:

“Why are you practising so early? What's the matter? [alt: Is there anything going on/something wrong?]”

“Yes, I was thinking about something.”

“Thinking about something?”

“A few days ago, vice-commander asked me to train some of the new recruits..... but I don't know what training arrangements should be made.

Saito-san frowned slightly and continued to speak.

From his words, it sounded as if the new warriors who joined [the Shinsengumi] had good swordsmanship.

“Sword skills can be ordinarily improved through normal training, but mental capabilities are different to improve, [and/but I] don't know of any good methods to improve them.”

"A good method...."

Early morning birds chirping echoed in my ears, I looked over the Nishi Honwanji temple courtyard together with Saito-san thinking of his concerns.

After thinking for a moment, I clasped my hands together and spoke:  "Ah, I have heard that the monks of Nishi Honwanji usually sit in meditation to improve their minds.

"Indeed, meditation can really improve/hone a person's mind. However, merely siting in meditation does not seem adequate,  and something else must be done."

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

Regardless of if it's plants [says trees] or animals, all living things will hide themselves until spring as it was winter

The wind blowing off the river wasn't just cold, but painful.  Just breathing made my throat feel frozen.

——Even so, today Saito-san was only wearing a single strip of cloth [fundoshi... probably?], tightly holding his arm(s) [probably: tightly crossing his arms], quietly looking down towards the torrential waterfall before us.

"Sai-saito-san, you truly want to sit underneath  that waterfall?

Yes, since ancient times to the present, when it comes to mediation, it's best to use a waterfall.

"But, the weather is so cold, you might die accidentally...."

If there is no risk to one's life, then it will not be training.

Saito-san nodded seriously, then went towards the cold river. The moment his toe touched the water, Saito-san shook violently. I was absolutely not imagining it.

Saito-san continued his movements, obviously stiffly because of the cold.

I worriedly called out to him:

"Saito-san, d-don't do this....."

"It's okay, do not worry."

"But......"

"Do not worry."

Saito-san whispered to himself, then showed no hesitation as he put one foot into the water. 

He used his frozen legs to wade through the river and after, moved underneath the waterfall without hesitation.

"If, if only one's mind [thinks it] is cold, [then] even fire can be [thought of as] cold...... [the tl i saw had the word “cold” in place of where I put in “fire”, and the 2nd 'cold’ that I wrote as “fire/hot,” so I switched these around]

Saito-san endured waterfall falling down on his head, softly/gently [slowly] closing his eyes.

「……」

“No, no [don't do this] Saito-san! Now that you've meditated, hurry up and get out, or you really will catch a cold."

「……」

"......Saito-san?"

「……」

"Saito-san? Saito-san——" ------------

"Therefore/as a result/so, in order to improve one's willpower/mind, not only meditation, but also doing that beneath a waterfall [will help]?

"That....the last part is too dangerous..."

"It was only because the water was so cool and comfortable, that I almost fell asleep.”

Almost froze to death—— though that could not be said, I was once again made aware of the present.

"Now that it is no longer winter, it is now longer possible to ind a cold waterfall."

"Yes. other methods to practice need to be thought of."

What other ways were there? We fell into deep contemplation again.

The time, the first who thought [of something] was Saito-san.

"It would better to go into the mountains to live in seclusion, this is also [a] basic [form of] training."

------------ 

Through the roof made/built of tree leaves and branches, the familiar sunlight,  only the sound of birds from the quiet mountain roads/paths, shrouded [the area] with a tranquil/quiet atmosphere.

[Alt (since my ^ tl for this was more literal):  The sunlight passing through the roof made of tree leaves and branches and the sound of birds chirping on the mountain paths created a tranquil atmosphere.][also im guessing they built a shelter?]

[We have] Been living in seclusion in the mountains for [a few] days [now].

Saito-san and I were living(/surviving) in the mountains by picking wild vegetables, and fishing to eat.

"......[I] Really didn't think/expect that it would be so quiet."

"Yes..... Saito-san, is this also a form of practise/training?

"In a sense, there is no type of training stricter/more rigourous than this, than/with just the two of us living secluded in the mountains."

"Eh?"

I couldn't help but make a sound as I looked at Saito-san, however I didn't understand why he looked away.

Then while not looking at me, whispered.

"I mean, there is nothing here, I don't know if you're bored being together with me......"

"There is no such problem, I like being together with Saito-san."

"Is, is that so? That's good... Well, actually, me being together with you also...." [alt: being together with you, I also...]

Just now [he] said——

Saito-san's voice was muffled by another noise, [one] that suddenly [started] coming from the rustling of the nearby bushes.

The sounds coming from the bushes got louder and louder, until finally, it turned into the low roar of a wild beast.

I immediately assumed a defensive position, [and] at this moment, I saw a giant beast with sharp claws appear.

"Sai-saito-san, there's a bear! Quick, run away/get out of here!"

I hurriedly pulled at Saito-san's sleeves, trying to pull him so that we could escape together, but I don't know why he wanted to continue what he was saying to me, and did not move.

「……」

It absolutely wasn't because of fear that he refused to budge.  Because he was glaring straight at the bear with a terrible look.

"Yukimura, retreat."

"Are-are you going to fight it? You might not be a bear's opponent...."

"Encountering these type of circumstances should be avoided, [alt?: Coming across /having such an opportunity  is rare,/This situation was supposed to be a retreat/ I was supposed to be getting away from these types of situations,] but I am suddenly, no, I am very angry."

[^ if you can’t tell, i had looots of difficulties with the first half of this, lol. so I just put down all my interpretations... though I'd assume it's probably more  along the lines of: Having such an opportunity (with you) is rare, so I am suddenly...]

Saito-san looked straight at the bear with a sharp gaze and put his left hand on his katana's hilt, emitting killing intent/a murderous aura, as if the bear was a punching bag.

"Living in seclusion in the wilderness requires fighting a bear——Prepare to die, bear." [may say: To live  (in seclusion) in the mountain wilderness is to fight a bear/means fighting a bear]

------------ 

".....Well, we can discuss about how else to hone/improve one's mind/willpower. Will it/should it need to involve fighting bears?

Ordinary humans should not be able to defeat bears, but Saito-san is not without the possibility of winning. With these types of  thoughts, I lowered my head.

"Disregarding minor details, we cannot be away from headquarters for long, [and] living in seclusion in the mountains is not realistic.”

"Yes, to hone your mind/will, you shouldn't need to go living in seclusion in the mountains."

Once again, our thoughts were disrupted, [and] we sighed, together looking towards the sky again.

"[This is] Really difficult. Is there an effective training method that doesn't require [a lot of] time?"

Thinking about this general idea, I thought:

"Nn.....what about fasting? A few days ago, Heisuke-kun, Harada-san, [and] Nagakura-san didn't eat anything for the entire day, [and were] so hungry that they cried."

"Fasting? This sounds worthwhile, though I do not know its effectiveness."

After hearing this, I suddenly remembered,  this talk about eating——

"Ah, that's right! I need to go make breakfast!"

“Sorry, I have kept you for so long. What is for breakfast today?"

"Turnip soup, [and] Kyoto-styled cooked vegetables [lit: Kyoto cooked vegetables]. Although it's yesterday's leftovers, the taste is very rich and is very delicious." 

Ghrgh....

Saito-san responded to what I said with his stomach, which sounded like the stomach of a hungry animal.

"........It appears that my training is insufficient, [and that] I must correct what I said as fasting appears to be an effective form of practice/training."

Saito-san turned his head and blushed because of his stomach's gurgling.

I responded with a smile and looked away.

"Breakfast will be ready soon, please wait a moment."

"Today I'll help you cook, as thanks to you for speaking with me."

"Ah......okay, I'll be troubling you Saito-san!"

Saito-san spoke as he quickly walked forward, and I hurried to catch up.

the end

--------

The title of this might actually be Day of Practice instead of plural days... but I left it at days since I think it made more sense.... Unfortunately, identifying if something is either singular or plural in Chinese isn’t the easiest thing to do unless there’s more context.... and titles certainly lack that. Nouns without context... it’s like they’re all like the word ‘moose’ (only English comparison I can think of off the top of my head atm...). It’s both singular and plural and without further information, it’s impossible to figure out if one moose is being talked about or multiple moose.... 

^I only wrote this blurb cuz i spent a good 5 min pondering about what the title should be lol. Using day sounds better, and I’m kinda particular about how the way things both look and sound, but days did make more sense..... 

^^i’m kinda feeling random rn... and i’ve probably had too much sugar just now. tired too. also i don’t have a habit of writing translation notes like this nor do i really intend to do so notes like this again in the future... though perhaps again when im felt like i’ve had too much sugar? lol w/e...

>_<

nother post will be up shortly. tsukikage countdown.

[theoriginalkidwithapen]

Principia – De Motu Corporum I

CW:  Violence, foul language, fear, traumatic events, attempted sexual assault, blood, death, despair, references to alcohol and drug use. “The ‘vis insita,’ or innate force of matter, is a power of resisting, by which every body, as much as it lies, endeavours to preserve in its present state, whether it be of rest, or of moving uniformly in a right line.”

– Sir Issac Newton, “Philosophae Naturalis Principia Mathematica”

It was the last decade of the 23rd century.  The planet Earth, despite its diminished resplendence due to global climate change, remained the pale blue dot it had always been.  In the late 21st century, the nations of Earth constructed an immense halo of solar power satellites in geostationary orbit – 35,786 kilometers above the Earth’s equator – and pierced it with three 100,000-kilometer-long space elevators to service it, spaced equidistantly throughout.  With fastidious maintenance and relatively minor upgrades, the array continued to function for nearly two centuries.

This spectacular feat of engineering lent the planet the appearance of a cloudy sapphire inlaid within a delicate gossamer ring of gold and silver.  This wispy aura served to transmit the electrical power it collected from sunlight to the planet below, keeping the night at bay for the 40 billion humans that called it home.

Keeping starvation at bay for these teeming masses required dozens of immense space stations dedicated to agriculture, located in the regions of space where the Earth’s gravity and that of its argent moon canceled each other out.

EML-1 colony #7, “Fasal,” was typical of an agricultural base; a hollow cylinder the size of a city that rolled on its center so that objects within fell towards its inner face at a rate of 980 centimeters per second – a familiar facsimile of Earth’s gravity at sea level to its inhabitants.  The station’s internal volume was dominated by gleaming white vertical farms, which used millions of hydroponics trays to grow its main crop; the humble soybean.

Like clockwork, every time the Moon rose above the horizon at the twin cities of Asaba and Onitsha, which straddled the Niger River, this colony harvested, packed, and shipped to Earth 1,000 tons of soybeans, each grown in the station’s climate-controlled environment – 30° Celsius, free of unwanted pests and diseases, fed clean water with the right mineral content – ideal conditions for growing the perfect soybean.

It was in one of these many vertical farms that Sara Reynolds toiled, removing hydroponics trays from their slots and carrying them to the diagnostics stations to be monitored by the biologists charged with the crop’s wellbeing, and then returning them to their particular shelves.  120 days after planting, the farm’s entire crop was due to be harvested – a laborious process that required a thousand worker-hours of back-breaking work, even in the 23rd century.  This was the daily routine for Sara and a quarter million other laborers in the colony who could charitably call themselves soybean farmers.

The hydroponics bay where Sara worked was hot, humid, and sterile.  Everyone wore freshly laundered uniforms of bleached white synthetic fabric; a tunic with long sleeves and a tight-fitting hood, gloves, leggings with integrated feet, a face mask, and protective glasses.  These precautions were to protect the soybeans from the hot, sweaty laborers and their potentially virulent microbiomes.

It had been more than six hours since Sara had had the opportunity to sit down, or even stand still for more than a moment; a natural consequence of having your working pace computer-monitored and allocated down to the second.  She was exhausted, and actually looking forward to returning to her cell and collapsing onto her bunk for a few blissful hours of unconsciousness before prying herself out of bed to do yet another 14-hour shift.

Too bad she wasn’t allowed alcohol.  Getting juiced to the gills every night might actually have made this workload bearable.  Quitting wasn’t an option, either – even if she had a say in the matter, far too much money had been spent on sending her up from Minneapolis to justify shipping her back to that shithole. Plus, it’s not like there were any jobs for her there, anyway.

“Shift six has ended,” the dulcet tone of the station’s administrative cybersophont came over the P.A., “Shift six has ended.  All technicians, please report to your designated equipment depository immediately.” Hallelujah, Sara thought as she dreamed of dying from alcohol poisoning.  She returned the 20-kilo hydroponics tray in her hands to its shelf, reconnected it to its umbilicals, and shuffled into the line of her coworkers leading to the exit.

It was an impatient few minutes until the last of them were through and the door closed behind them.  Once the lights changed from red to green, she and everyone else were free to disrobe.

“You fellas catch the game yesterday?” a Middle-Eastern coworker, maybe from India or something, called out as she pulled her tunic over her head.  The room was packed so tightly that Sara struggled to remove either her hood or her mask.

“Oh, yes,” another Indian coworker said as he peeled his sweat-soaked leggings off, “India won by seven wickets!”

“The umpire’s call was bullshit!” the first coworker exclaimed.  Probably not India, Sara thought as she was finally able to free a few locks of her flaxen hair, Maybe it’s the other one…

“There’s no way Shirazi was LBW!” the first coworker continued.  Here we go again, Sara thought with great annoyance.  Don’t these people talk about anything else?

“Do I detect a Pakistan fan, salty that her favourite team have a rubbish captain?” the second coworker inquired jocularly.  Definitely the other one, Sara determined. “It’s not the captain,” Ms. Pakistan argued, “It’s biased umpires choosing the winners that get me starkers.” There was enough of a gap in the crowd for Sara to finally free her face from her now thoroughly soiled mask, an act she immediately regretted as her senses were assaulted by the pungent stench of a dozen sweaty people in a confined space.  It might have been better to have left the mask on, no matter how damp it may have gotten after 14 hours of being breathed through, Sara mulled.  She deposited it in one of the laundry bags lining the walls.

“What about you, Reynolds?” Ms. Pakistan asked.  Goddammit, Sara thought to herself, Don’t drag me into your stupid fucking argument.  I don’t have the free time to watch sports games like you do.

“Do you believe that biased umpires violate the Spirit of Cricket?” Ms. Pakistan continued, clearly expecting an answer.

Sara fought to keep her temper in check.  All this conversation did was remind her of how grossly unfair the whole situation was.  Her entire life reduced to hard labor and interrupted sleep, interspersed with daily therapy sessions.  Even though she had to work here until the day she died with no possibility of parole, they still insisted that she be “rehabilitated.”  Plus, at least half of the other people in the room were volunteers who were getting paid for their work.

“I don’t have an opinion,” Sara grumbled, “I’m…  American.”

“So, what sport do you follow?” Ms. Pakistan interrogated in her particular infuriatingly pretentious accent, once considered refined and cultured by the ancient British, “Hockey?”

“Mixed Martial Arts?” Mr. India chimed in.

“Yankee Murder Rugby?”  Ms. Pakistan escalated with a ludicrous description of American Football.  Everyone else in the room laughed at the racist caricature she painted of the moronic, uncultured, and blusterous American they all saw in Sara.

“I don’t have time for any of that shit,” Sara snapped back with barely contained rage, “so don’t drag me into your stupid fights!”

“Woah,” Ms. Pakistan snarked, “I seem to have struck a nerve…”  The laughter continued to peal.

That was the moment when Sara’s extraordinarily short fuse burnt out – what little patience she normally had was finally expended.

“Strike this nerve, bitch!” Sara exploded as she slugged Ms. Pakistan across the jaw with a strong right hook, knocking her to the floor.

“What are you, crazy!?” Ms. Pakistan cried out in shock, wiping the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand.

Sara leapt upon the woman, screaming in incoherent rage, adrenaline fueling her ecstatic frenzy.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“...And what made you want to attack her?”  Sara’s psychotherapist asked, drawing her out of her reverie and back to the present, in her daily therapy session.  The room was painted that stupid shade of mint green that was supposed to be calming, there was a large decorative bamboo plant in the corner, and a small potted cactus standing on the short table between her and Dr. Jamaica, and the light reggae muzak playing ambiently wasn’t helping Sara’s mood.

“She wouldn’t fucking shut up about that stupid game!” Sara said irately, her blood still boiling from recounting her experience, and how she wished it could have turned out.

“Were you angry because everyone else understood the game, and you didn’t?” Dr. Jamaica asked calmly, the perfect opposite of Sara’s volatile demeanor.

“No one understands Cricket,” Sara grumbled, “the game is fucking incomprehensible.”

“Could you describe what this incident made you want to do with her?”

Sara immersed herself, once again, into the heart-pounding memory of the incident the other day, and found herself swept up in her emotions.

“I wanted to make her face look like a goddamned blueberry,” Sara fantasized with rising excitation, “I wanted the deck to run red with her blood.  I wanted her to look me in the eye before I slammed her head into the floor, again and again until she stopped moving!”  Sara found the mental images her words evoked quite satisfying.

“Well, I’m glad you chose not to act on those feelings,” Dr. Jamaica said after taking a beat, unintentionally acting like a deadpan snarker.  Sara felt that he might have been making fun of her.  Dr. Jamaica clinically made a note on his tablet.

“Your self-control is improving,” Dr. Jamaica mentioned, “If this had happened six months ago, you might have actually tried to kill her.”

“Not my fault I’m a fucking psychopath,” Sara said discontentedly.

“We’ve been over this, Sara.  You don’t have psychopathy, you simply have trouble controlling these emotional outbursts of yours,” the doctor continued dispassionately, “You’ve come a long way from the violent person you were a decade ago.”  He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

Sara hated this part of the sessions, where he opened up old wounds in a misguided attempt to help her “face her trauma” so that she could “conquer” it.  All it really did was force her to relive old and terrifying memories.

Normally, she was able to maintain enough composure to weather the emotional tumult that came with the experience, but after recounting the incident with her coworkers, Sara was unsure whether she could control herself today.

The doctor’s words awoke memories of the ghettoes on the outskirts of Minneapolis.  The reek of the bogs along the banks of the Mississippi River; stark, crumbling concrete buildings decaying from centuries of acid rain; sweltering heat and humidity and overcast skies; overcrowded enclosures secreting patent poverty away from the notice of the entitled, exiguous denizens of the stately spire of glass and steel which marked the city center; dark, filthy alleys where the desperate and despairing frittered away their lives in futility.

“According to your file, before you were institutionalised for Stage III Violent Mania, you murdered a peacekeeper in cold blood.”

Sara remembered the encounter like it was yesterday, and she knew that it didn’t happen that way.  It was a dark, rainy night.  She was loitering across the alley from a pair of prostitutes soliciting their services to the passersby.  She was there to protect them from the freaks and the forcible who would threaten them.  It was dangerous work, but it paid well enough to buy the occasional moonshine-or-narcotic-fueled day off, or an hour or two of passion in their accommodating embrace.

One of them walked away on the arm of a government functionary – maybe a supervisor at the local commissary – when a federal army patrol stopped by.  Soldiers made the best johns, according to Sara’s employers.  They paid well, and were usually repeat customers, although they were often domineering, and sometimes abusive.

Something was wrong.  Negotiations didn’t typically take this long, especially if there were two of them.  They started to get confrontational.  One of them began to reach for his nightstick.

Turn around, walk away, and pretend you saw and heard nothing:  that would have been the smart thing to do.  Clearly, Sara wasn’t that smart.

She had a knife in her hand, she strode over and issued her challenge.  The two soldiers laughed at her, the scrawny girl with the dull, rusted blade.  She attacked, the nearest soldier disarmed her effortlessly and pinned her to the wall.  She briefly saw the other one do the same to her charge before her assailant forced her head to face him and covered her mouth with his hand.  She tried to struggle, but he had her completely overpowered.

The soldier leered at her with sadistic glee.  The excited rhythm of his escalating breathing, the growing, firming protrusion as he forced his hips into hers, the relish with which he described the unspeakable acts he intended to inflict upon her, the way he reduced her entire being to an object to sate his appetites to his personal satisfaction, the utter helplessness she felt as he began to turn his perverse fantasies into horrifying reality – all of it made her feel a terrible, choking, paralyzing, unctious, enveloping, crushing, sinking, viscous fear, the kind that breaks even the strongest wills.

She had to get out of there.  There was no way out, but she needed to escape.

“You stole his weapon, and used it to kill him.”

That part was true.  She did not know how she managed it, but she somehow got her hand on his sidearm and in her panic, she shot him in the stomach.  While the body armor the soldier wore was designed to deflect bullets even more powerful than those his pistol used, Sara had pressed the barrel right against it, and at that range those bullets could still penetrate it.  She didn’t know how many times she pulled the trigger, she kept shooting him until he fell on his back and stopped moving.

“You became a murderer at fifteen years old.”

That’s not how it happened.  As her lawyer had explained in the trial, she didn’t murder him.  She shot him in self-defense. Not that it mattered.  In lawsuits against the army, the army always won.

She felt a brief euphoria, like drunkenness but momentary.  It was when she saw the body of the soldier lying in front of her, the look of shock on his face, his gaping mouth filling with rainwater, his spilling blood clouding the water around him a sanguine hue, the gun in her trembling, blood-soaked hands, they all pointed to the inescapable truth that, one way or another, her life was over.

“How does that make you feel?”

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

In one forceful motion, Sara flipped the short table between them, screaming in a berserk rage.  She grabbed a standing lamp and smashed it across the doctor’s face, sending him and the chair he sat upon tumbling over.

“Security!” the doctor cried out in terror, cowering on his back, “Security, help!”  The standing lamp now useless to her, she gripped the decorative bamboo and raised it over her head with both hands, ready to bring it crashing down on top of him.

At that moment, the door was kicked open with a crunch, and two armed men in espatier-gray camouflage burst in, submachine guns leveled at Sara.

“Drop the weapon!” one of them yelled.

The red dots of laser sights dancing across Sara’s chest drew her attention away from the doctor.  She threw herself recklessly at the security guards, roaring non-verbally.

She hadn’t gone two paces before she was thrown to the floor by a concussive force, accompanied by a blinding flash of light and a deafening, thunderous bang.  Sara’s rapid journey to unconsciousness was heralded by a high-pitched ringing whine.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The two main gateways to the Earth Sphere were located at the second and third Lagrange points in the Earth-Moon system.  Lagrange-Two was located opposite the Earth of the Moon, and was primarily a departure point to the other planets in the solar system.

Lagrange-Three, on the other hand, lay on the side opposite the Moon of the Earth, and followed the Moon’s orbit exactly.  Spacecraft entering the Earth Sphere from the rest of the solar system tended to pass through Lagrange-Three, either to rendezvous with an Earthly destination, or to exploit the planet’s gravity to gain speed or change course with minimal expenditure of precious propellant.

The main advantage of Lagrange-Three as an arrival point was that for nearly 385,000 kilometers in every direction – the distance between Earth and its moon – it was almost devoid of objects.  This calculable-but-unfathomable expanse made for an ideal buffer zone for the safe operation of the thermonuclear fusion rockets – colloquially called “starbulbs” after their superficial resemblance to ancient incandescent lamps, but with a miniaturized toroidal sun in the center instead of a lambent metal filament – in use by interplanetary vessels.  After all, the drive plumes from such a mighty apparatus burned with the fury of the Sun’s corona – best that other craft gave their tails a wide berth.

Transiting to a lower orbit from Lagrange-Three, Peregrine was propelled by such a device.  She was generally arrow-shaped, if the head were a sphere and the fletchings were aluminum whiskers extruding from her gleaming wasp-waisted propulsion stage.

Peregrine listened to the hum of Earth’s magnetic field, felt the caress of the solar wind on her hull, watched the goings-on of the crew within her, and monitored the progress of a program being loaded into her active memory – one designed to protect her from the humans of Earth.

It was important for Peregrine to conceal her true nature from the Earthers.  She had heard stories about what they did to cybersophonts that weren’t…  controlled… to their satisfaction, and she had no desire to be lobotomized or dismantled.

Peregrine wasn’t merely the ship’s computer.  She was the ship.

Her crew were different from the Earthers – Martians had always treated cyphonts as equals, after all.  They understood that sapience begot personhood on some level, at least.

There was a message being received by her main communications array.  Time to pipe it down to the control deck like a good little macro before the senders got suspicious.  Channel open.

The control deck consisted of six acceleration couches facing outward, each with controls mounted on the arms.  The captain, a tall, thin man with roguishly handsome features and skin the color of vanilla named Jon Orvar, was in the flight control seat.

“Manju Ray, this is Micronesia Space Traffic Control,” the voice coming over the radio said, “Please transmit your flight plan and lading, over.”

“Micronesia Traffic Control,” Jon replied with practiced ease, “this is Manju Ray.  Transmitting FP&L to you now.  We are on a ballistic trajectory to EML-1, transporting assorted hydrocarbons to Surveyor City and consumer goods to Terrordrome.  Yours is the last Earth traffic control zone on our course until EML-1, over.”  EML-1 was spacer shorthand for the Lagrange-One point located precisely between the Earth and the Moon.

“Hauling some Titan Tea to the Moon, Manju Ray?” The traffic controller inquired jocularly.

“Straight from the refineries over Saturn,” Jon replied.

“Well, you oil barons shouldn’t run into any problems on your current trajectory.  We’ll advise you if anything should change that.  Micronesia out,” the traffic controller said as Tallen Olayinka floated down from the main computer compartment above.  The man was an ebony giant – 212 centimeters tall and built like a statuesque demigod – and neatly brought himself to a stop on the deck.

“Acknowledged, Manju Ray out,” Jon signed off.

“I’ve worked out those bugs in the Nadleehi Protocol,” Tallen reported after Jon closed the channel, “With any luck, Peregrine should look like a conventional mainframe to a cursory inspection.”

“Pretending to be a dumb expert system feeds my inferiority complex,” Peregrine’s soprano voice self-deprecated over the control deck speakers.

“Of course it does, dear,” Tallen dismissed playfully.

Jon turned to face Tallen.  “That’s good to hear,” Jon replied, ignoring Peregrine’s interjection, “The last thing we need is to have Peregrine impounded because she happens to be a cyphont.”

Tallen crossed his ample arms.  “Her engine alone raises some eyebrows ‘round here,” he speculated, “The Earth government isn’t very keen on civilians or foreigners operating terawatt-range fusion drives.”

“Incoming transmission over Astronet,” Peregrine reported, “Sender ID masked, and they’re using IRONGOLDFISH encryption keys.”

“That sounds familiar,” Jon remarked, “Put it up.”

“Yes, dear,” Peregrine replied.  The flight control display minimized and a videochat window opened up in its place.  The image on the screen was shadowy and secretive, showing the silhouette of a man in a hat profiled against a cyan glow.

“Now there’s the face that sank a thousand ships,” the man spoke with a heavily distorted voice.  It was clear that despite his precautions to hide his identity behind layers of encryption lockouts, he was taking no chances that he might be inadvertently identified through the analog hole. “Did you call just to insult me?” Jon asked.

“No,” the mystery man answered, “I’ve called because I need a favour.” “A favor?” Jon repeated, intrigued, “This’ll be good.”

“Don’t enjoy this too much,” the mystery man admonished, “An associate of mine has run into a spot of trouble, and I need you to extract them and bring them to me.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“My associate was investigating something which I think you would find rather interesting.  I’d be willing to share what information they learned.”

“That’s suspiciously generous of you.” “My benevolence is renowned across the entire system.” “What kind of information are we talking about?”

“Not over Astronet.  We’ll meet at the usual place to make the exchange.”

“All right.  Who and where?”

“Her name is Ayane Miyamoto.  She was last seen in EML-1 Colony 7 less than seven hours ago.”

“We’ll be there,” Jon said as he logged off, and then turned to face Tallen.

“What do you make of that, Tallen?

“It’s certainly intriguing,” Tallen pondered, “Even Sharqi’s not that paranoid.”

“Speaking of intrigue,” Jon inquired, “have you seen Misty?”

“She’s outside, looking at Earth.”

Jon released the straps restraining him in his chair, pushed himself off from the armrests, and climbed on the handrails along the bulkheads to the hatch leading below decks.

“Peri, take over,” Jon ordered as he climbed down to the next deck, which housed crew accommodations, and kicked his way across to the below decks hatch on the other side, “I’m gonna go find our wayward wayfinder.”

“You know I’m not supposed to work unsupervised in Earth space, right?” Peregrine reminded Jon as he climbed down to the next deck, after which he drifted over to a hatch set in the deck, directly beneath the common area in the deck above.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Jon joked.

“I guess Tallen’s my chaperone, huh?”

Jon opened the hatch, which led to the prep room for the airlock.  “Looks like it,” Jon confirmed, “Any hazards out there I should know about?”

“The temperature is more than 270 degrees below freezing,” Peregrine reported, “atmosphere is 57 kilopascals below cabin pressure…”

“Smartass,�� Jon muttered as he opened the suit locker, for he knew that Peregrine’s cabin pressure was exactly 57 kilopascals.

“Ah,” Peregrine joked as Jon began to don his spacesuit, “You should have specified hazards atypical of hard vacuum.”

“Consider it specified.”

“We’re between the Van Allen belts, so your radiation exposure should be minimal.  Solar flare activity is low.”

“So, I’ll be fine.”

“There’s always the chance you’ll be fried by a freak gamma ray burst…”

Jon, fully suited up, sealed the faceplate on his helmet and climbed into the airlock.  “All suit systems check out,” Jon declared, “Commence airlock pre-cycle sequence.”

“Yes, dear,” Peregrine joked as she closed and sealed the inner pressure door.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Peregrine’s outer airlock door opened silently.  Without a medium to propagate in, everything external to one’s pressure vessel was silent.  Inside the suit, however, the noise of pumps and motors, and exchanging gases was too loud to ignore.

Jon clipped his safety line onto a handrail bolted to the outer hull, and made his way to the nose of the ship, where the communications and main sensor array were mounted.  The main antenna mast was Misty’s favorite place to go stargazing.

Reaching the summit of Peregrine’s structure, Jon saw the familiar lanky silhouette of the woman he was married to, black as space in contrast to sapphire-blue Earthlight.

Jon climbed over to her, and tapped the side of his helmet to change radio channels.  “Hey, Misty!” Jon called out to her once he had tuned to the right frequency, “How’s the planet-watching?”

Misty turned her helmeted head to face Jon as he floated down next to her, bulky when compared to the rest of her spacesuit, which resembled a full-body leotard instead of a balloon.  

Illuminated by Earthlight, Jon could see the wonder and fascination in her eyes as she stared at the cradle of humanity.  “It’s beautiful,” Misty said in awe at the planet’s majesty, her glowing complexion the hue of ruddy clay complemented by her jet-black lips.

“This is the closest you’ve ever been to Earth, right?” Jon asked, sharing the view with her.

“How could you tell?”

“No one who’s been this close would describe that polluted, overpopulated shithole planet as ‘beautiful,’” Jon opined.

Misty pointed at the Earth’s disc.  “Just look at all that water!” she exclaimed, “From the surface, the ocean must look like it goes on forever!  Can you imagine sitting on a beach and seeing such an amazing sight?”

“It’s impressive,” Jon replied, “it boggles the mind that the Earth has that much surface water, but I’d hardly call it amazing.  None of that water is potable without immense purification plants.”

Misty looked a little saddened.  “It’s a shame that I can never go there,” she said, “It would be nice to see an ocean, or hear the wind, or taste the rain.  I wonder what it would be like to look up at a blue sky, surrounded by breathable air.”

Jon smirked.  “Do you want this to be our honeymoon spot?”

Misty snuggled up to Jon in an almost childlike manner – a slightly awkward affair because they were both in spacesuits.  “We’ve been married for nearly a year, anata.  It’s a little late for a honeymoon, ne?”

“Just never found the right moment,” Jon answered.  The couple just stayed there, watching the Earth turn.

[artycreaty]

Emogust 14.08 - In which character A protects character B from danger

Hello there! So sorry this is late, this thing took forever to write! Also it’s longer than the two fics I wrote, so sorry if you don’t like longer one-shots, but I really hope you like this one as well! Note: please read my previous prompt because there will be a OC in here, and I think you can read this one without having read the previous one, but it may be hella confusing... Anyways! Words: 3451. I really hope I did these characters justice! @mintchocolateleaves @sup-poki Please enjoy!

We should have gone the other way…

Is what Ayumi thinks as she stands amongst her classmates and longtime friends Genta and Mitsuhiko in what looks like an abandoned living room. She can see an old TV (she has seen something similar in her mother’s old photographs from long before Ayumi was born), a brown loveseat and a matching armchair which seem like they’ve been worn by years of use, and recently torn by a knife (she can’t tell what kind), and the same can be said for the walls (she can see the wallpapers peeling off), plus the smell of dust (and something else) in the atmosphere is strong. This room looks like it hasn’t been released into the sun or fresh air for long, but now she has to stop observing the room in detail because her mind is too occupied by fear for her and the boys’ safety.

They had only meant to check out what looked to them like an abandoned and therefore haunted building after seeing it in passing in their exploration of the road opposite where they were meant to take after school hours. Conan had decided to go to Agasa-hakase’s house with Haibara to discuss something important (all secretive again). The kids wanted to go as well, but being children they had decided to explore their town without telling Conan and Haibara. After wandering around the abandoned building they found a closed door leading downstairs and because they were curious and excited at the thought of a treasure, so there they went. It was poorly lit but the thought of shining gold gave them courage to continue forward regardless. But what treasure they found was in fact a person. A young lady, in fact, trapped in what looks like a dungeon they saw in action games. From what they could see in the poorly-lit area, she had long brown hair down to her hips, though disheveled from what they could only guess have not been treated properly in days, same with her clothes. She wore dark undervest under red loose off-shoulder long-sleeve shirt and knee-length denim trousers, only they were torn and dirty here and there, and her feet were bare, no hint of shoes anywhere.

She was standing with her arms high, hanging a few feet off the ground by the chains holding her wrists to the ceiling. They could see red wounds under the chains, mostly through iron rubbings and the gravity. But that didn’t end there. She was bloodied, metaphorically and literally. She had blood trailing down her head, mouth, arms and legs, plus many bruises even on her cheek, and her lips were torn. Basically, it looked like she was tortured. The children were scared for her. For a moment they thought she was dead, but she suddenly moved her head and looked at them through bloodied eyes and they gasped. Her sky-blue eyes looked lifeless, as if she had been through everything life has thrown at her but it became too much so she had given up on everything. However, the moment her eyes shifted to their direction sky-blue orbs became determined, as though despite all the abuse she had suffered, she still had the will to live. When they actually shifted into focused though, her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a ‘o’ shape. As the kids were about to ask if she was okay, she quickly shook her head and started to open and close her mouth, but no voice came out, only a wheeze. Her mouth seemed to be repeating in a certain pattern, after a second the kids were able to discern the words: ‘Run, run, run away now’.

They didn’t know why she reacted like that, but that moment footsteps sounded through the air, they immediately went to hide behind a pillar in the far corner before the footsteps reached the bottom of the stairs and went directly to the female’s prison. The unknown person said nothing for a moment, then...

“So you still won’t tell me anything. Oh well, too bad. You know, we don’t need you anymore. Words from above has given me an order to get rid of you, so I will. It’s a shame, though. If you had said something they would have been merciful enough to give you a more peaceful end… But this is for the best, I suppose. This way, you may become the fire creature you love so much. See you in hell.”

Heavy footsteps retreated upstairs. From hearing the words the unknown person just said, Mitsuhiko guessed they might set the place on fire, and judging the new scent that waved through the air, he was apparently right. The kids immediately ran upstairs, only stopping for a moment to glance at the lady but she still exclaimed silently RunRunRUNAWAYNOW! so they went, while apologising to her in their head.

Now here they are in the living room. It is currently nighttime but it is full moon tonight, giving the room moonlight that is bright enough to see clearly, added by something even brighter and orange-red which is getting closer and closer. If this were any ordinary night Ayumi would normally have taken her time to look outside her bedroom window (or the window of wherever she’s sleeping over at any time) and stare at the full moon. She could almost hear the moon singing merrily to her, as if it is happy to finally get the recognition it so wanted for a long time. Her mother knows Ayumi loves full moon watching so she sometimes allows Ayumi a few minutes past bedtime in order to admire the beauty of the moonlight a little longer, and more often than not she falls asleep to the soft radiance and the soothing melody it bestows upon her.

Tonight however, it seems to draw in the colour of flames that is currently blazing hot in front of them, turning the moon crimson while enhancing its frenzy upon the children. The crimson moon is as beautiful as it is terrifying in its own right. The smoke trapped by the roof is getting lower and they know it is dangerous to breathe it in so they head to the only available window but the locker is rusty and therefore stuck, plus they are too short to get onto the shelf anyways. There is another small and open window which lets the smoke out but it is too high to the ceiling. The little would-be detectives try to stay calm (remembering Conan’s instructions in case of situations like this) but it is getting impossible not to; they are only children. They need to find a way to get out now.

Or we should have called Takagi-keiji the moment we saw that lady!

Except it has already happened, and besides they have more important things to occupy their mind right now. Ayumi is only glad they managed to call Conan-kun using the detective badge before the fire started, and was assured in the thought that Conan would definitely come to save them. She has not seen the culprit who had set the small building on fire, their footsteps were scary enough. Thankfully Conan made it a point to teach the children how to be silent whenever necessary after a few incidents where even the slightest sound alarmed anyone to their attention, therefore the culprit hadn’t discovered them. The kids and the lady are trapped, they have no choice but to wait - they can only believe in Conan. Please hurry, Conan-kun!

“Ayumi, Genta, Mitsuhiko! Can you hear me? Respond now!” As if in response to their plea, a masculine voice suddenly sounds through the air. The children look down at their detective badge - it is not Conan or Haibara and they were told to not talk to strangers without the two but they are too focused on getting to safety, so they would take the help they could get.

“Yes, we hear you! Please help us, the fire is getting close!” Mitsuhiko answers for the three.

“Tell me, where are you at the moment?” the man’s voice sounds breathy, as if he’s run all day.

“In the living room, just by the window! But it’s stuck, it’s impossible to open with just our strength!”

“Then you three step to the side quickly, just hold on!”

The children immediately comply, stepping to the left side of the window. Suddenly it is smashed inward by what looks like a soccer ball. A shadow comes into view and a hand comes out of the window.

“Guys! Hold onto my hand, I’ll get you outside!”

They step to just across the window and see a young man obstructed by the moonlight, but they immediately recognise him.

“Shinichi-oniisan!” Ayumi blurts out.

Indeed, it is Kudou Shinichi standing onto the window sill, with one hand holding on the frames, and another holding out to them. He seems to be wearing casual clothes, with a blue striped short-sleeve shirt, a pair of denim pants and a sports shoes which is similar to Conan’s favourite ones. However, he seems to be sweating a lot, his breathing heavy. They could also see a blue-green jumper rolled horizontally on the sill.

“It’s okay, I’ve taken out the broken glass on the bottom and my jumper is covering the remains so nothing would scratch you. Now come on, just take my hand!”

That seems to spur them out of their trance-like stance and they allow Ayumi to take Shinichi’s hand first, him pulling up and propelling her to the other side. Once she lands safely on the ground outside he holds his hand out again and Mitsuhiko is next. Then finally Genta though Shinichi has to hold onto his armpits to get him out safely.

Once all of them are safely outside the building and no longer on the threat of breathing in the fire smoke, Shinichi turn to them and kneel to be at the same level.

“Are you okay, guys? You didn’t breathe in any smoke, did you?”

Mitsuhiko takes the lead, “No, we didn’t! Conan-kun taught us what to do in a situation like this, so we’re okay!” Then in a small voice he continues, “We’re sorry, Shinichi-san. We were in that situation in the first place. We should have gone home instead of exploring…”

Shinichi cuts him off, “Don’t be sorry. You wouldn’t have known that the fire happened by accident. I’ve called Takagi-keiji on the way here, so he and the ambulance should be here shortly. I’m just glad you’re safe…”

Suddenly the kids remembered something crucial, as they were too occupied with worrying about their own lives. Ayumi exclaims, “Shinichi-oniisan! That fire wasn’t an accident, someone started it!”

Blue eyes suddenly focuses on her and turns to Genta when he proclaims, “That’s right! Someone wanted to get rid of that young lady in the basement!”

Mitsuhiko takes over, “That lady was trapped in a dungeon! I don’t think she can get out because some chains are restraining her wrists a few feet up to the ceiling! Please, save her!”

Determination takes over Shinichi’s eyes and he stands up after receiving directions to the basement from the kids and in return, instructs them to get to the gate where Hakase and Haibara are, and then runs to the broken window (ignoring the calls to his name), jumps over it to the other side. On the way to the basement he spots in the corner of his eye a stool and a large bolt cutter in the kitchen and thanks to every kami he can think of that he does not have to waste time looking for something he can use and goes to retrieve them before sprinting to the door leading to the basement. Once he gets there he actually sees the lady the kids were talking about, but they had forgotten about the barrier separating himself and the lady. He clicks his teeth, rummaging in his pocket for the swiss army knife (Agasa-hakase has taken it apart and recreated so that it included other useful tools, for situations like this), takes it out and pick locks the door until it unlocks before dashing to the lady, palming her cheeks so as to try to wake her up.

There is a brief second until she opens her sky-blue eyes and Shinichi stills in shock. He actually recognises this person, he could never forget her. They had met about eight months ago, and this female was one who he was looking for all this time, ever since his brief epiphany nearly three weeks previous. He could not find this person, no matter how hard he searched. It was like she disappeared off the surface of the earth the day she went out on her usual grocery shopping exactly a month ago. The one who left an impression on him on that certain incident, whose words were ingrained deep into his mind he could not forget them, even in his sleep. The one and only Chinen Aina, an outstanding deaf individual who had a keen talent in observational skills, and in the back of his mind, one he wouldn’t have minded having as a partner. One who was now awake and staring bewildering at him. Just for this one moment, Shinichi smiles softly.

“Hi.”

She doesn’t answer, and that’s fine, he thinks. She shouldn’t be speaking in her condition at this moment. And he knows, he has taken in all the injuries she had endured and he is so furious someone had tortured her and she must have screamed to the point her vocal cords is sore or possibly damaged, resulting in laryngitis. And it is dark enough to be unable to read his own lips (and besides, she might not have enough energy to concentrate) but not too dark that she can’t see his hands, so he signs.

“Everything will be okay, I will get you out of here. And I am going to cut the handcuffs. Can you try to gather your strength long enough to brace your legs?”

After a second she nods, so Shinichi proceeds to do just that. He stands up onto the stool and prepares to cut the handcuffs, slowly putting the bolt cutter through the handcuffs besides her hands so to give her time to prepare, and when he is mostly assured that she won’t sprain her ankles or something, he cuts.

It is immediate. Once her feet touches the floor she crouches so to absorb the impact before stumbling to her knees, her upper body falling forwards. Shinichi catches her before her head could meet the ground, also kneeling himself, the bolt cutter thrown to the side. She does not seem to have any more strength, her arms limp by her sides. Shit, he thinks, I should have realised this earlier! Judging by her condition, her arms have been raised for a few days - there’s barely any blood circulating through them. They could be damaged for all I know, she needs the hospital now!

He rips the bottom part of his shirt with his knife and then ties it around her head, covering her mouth so to prevent her breathing in the smoke. He then prepares to carry her in his arms bride style (no piggy backs, her arms are useless at this point), raises up from his crouch and walks hurriedly upstairs while thinking oh god she’s so light, symptoms of malnutrition and dehydration and he’s pissed she endured it for god knows how long I’m definitely gonna make sure she’s healthy but to get out of the building is his first priority. Once upstairs, he has to tread carefully to the living room through the flames steadily rising (he does not want to waste time trying to unlock what might be a locked front door, and he had ignored the fire when he initially came in), coming up to the same window. He has to be extra careful to get outside with the bundle in his arms.

He instinctively knows there’s no time so he speed walks to Hakase, far away from the burning house and apparently that was a quick thinking on his part because not long after the building explodes (due to the gas in the kitchen, he thinks) and he shields Aina with his whole body to the scattered remains. After it’s done, he looks down at her. She had gone unconscious the moment he set her free, however the handcuffs are still on her wrists, even if the chains are broken. He does not like it, she needs to be free right now. Thankfully the police and ambulance, and in essence, fire brigade have arrived while he was still in the building. One of the firemen came and, to Shinichi's relief, freed her from those damn shackles. The ambulance crew put her onto the stretcher before wheeling her to one vehicle, with Shinichi following. In the corner of his eye he notices the kids are being treated and he takes a short breath.

He hears his name being called and looks to the side, seeing Agasa-hakase coming up to him.

“Shinichi-kun! Are you alright?”

“Hakase. Yes, I’m alright, if not a little winded. Don’t worry, I didn’t take in that much smoke, so if I just breathe in the oxygen mask I’ll be just fine. I’m more worried about the kids and that person.”

Hakase glances at him, and then to one of the ambulance vehicles where she is held at.

“Who is she, Shinichi-kun?”

He hesitates, just for a moment. “That doesn’t matter right now. Getting the treatment is what she needs right now. She’s been in the basement for too long, possibly weeks. That’s no good, and she—”

A small noise attracts his attention. To be like his idol Holmes, ever since he was a kid he trained himself to detect any kind of noise, even small ones, and so he hears it. From a certain direction. He quickly goes over to the vehicle and sees one of the crew pinning down a struggling Aina. She looks so scared and oh no they shouldn’t be doing that, she’s experiencing some kind of flashback! He shoves the staff away while yelling something to him, he has no idea what he said because Aina needs him right now. And so he palms her right cheek while holding up a hand. She opens her eyes, terror and anxiety in those sky-blue eyes but they’re not what he wanted to see and so his calm and reassuring eyes connects with hers. He waits for a moment while she gathers herself while concentrating on him and her own breathing. Once he knows she is more calm he signs, knowing she doesn’t have the mindset to focus on his lips at this moment.

“It’s me, Kudo Shinichi. Do you remember me? We met a while ago.” He also knows she doesn’t have the strength to lift one of her arms to sign back, and so he is looking for recognition in her eyes and when he finds it he continues, “You are currently lying on a stretcher in an ambulance, and you aren’t in your best condition, therefore one of the guys is going to treat you so that you can get better. Is that acceptable for you?” He waits a few seconds longer and when her eyes soften he takes that as a yes. He looks up to one of the crew members. “This one had experienced a traumatic incident, so treat her as gentle as possible. Is that understood?” he instructs. The staff nods his head and goes to do just that, and just as Shinichi is about to stand up and leave he feels a tug on his shirt and looks over his shoulder. Aina is clutching at his shirt, trembling and a look of anxiety in her eyes and so he sits down beside the bed. The gesture is clear; I’m not going anywhere and she relaxes, assured in the knowledge that she is finally safe closes her eyes and her breath even, with help from an oxygen mask over her face.

With the promise to not leave, Shinichi closes his hand over hers and stays in the vehicle with her up until the hospital, and still he does not leave her side for too long until she would wake up. He is so pleased that he finally found one Chinen Aina after having searched for so long. When she gets better, they are going to have a long talk, he knows, even if he has to speak with her as Conan. He owes her that much.

[mss4msu]

“Do I Wanna Know?” (Chapter 1)

Summary: On a visit to a local nightclub, the lounge singer catches your eye. Soon becoming a regular at the club, the way you look on the dancefloor gets his attention. You begin to hear stories about the notorious crime lord who owns and operates the small nightclub. When your friends worry that you’ve gotten mixed up with a mobster, you wonder if it’s better to be left in the dark and find yourself asking, “Do I wanna know?” if you’re getting involved with one of the most revered mobsters in the city.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Words: 2041

A/N: I went to an Arctic Monkeys concert and the lead singer had serious Seb GQ shoot vibez and I decided I needed a gangster fic featuring Arctic Monkeys songs so here it is. The fic (and this chapter specifically) are inspired by “Do I Wanna Know?”

Read the Full Story Here

The song in this chapter can be listened to here

“Come on, (Y/N), let’s gooooo!” your best friend, Jess, banged on the bathroom door.

“Give me one sec, I’m almost done!” you called back, applying one more coat of mascara and a last layer of red lipstick. You swung open the door of the bathroom.

“Dayyuumm!” Jess yelled at you, looking you up and down. You had chosen to wear your simple black dress that really accentuated your cleavage. “Alright, let’s go, Rachel’s meeting us there and we’re gonna be late because you took so long getting ready.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grabbed your purse off its hook, checking that your keys and wallet were inside and adding your phone. “How are we getting there?”

“I forgot you never go out,” Jess laughed at you, “I looked it up and the bus that stops right outside your place runs by it, so we’ll take that there and then grab a ride-share back here?”

“And why can’t we just take your car?”

“Because I don’t want to drive, because this place has the cheapest drinks in the area, so you know I’m going all in on those.”

“But the police just issued that new warning about public transportation at night….” you nervously replied. You had been reading through the newspaper this morning and seen that the mob activity in your area was increasing and the police were warning pedestrians to avoid particular bus routes, such as the one in front of your apartment, to cut down on potential innocent involvement.

“I’ve taken this exact bus route to this club before and I’ve survived. Plus, as long as we get on the bus now, there’s enough light that it shouldn’t be a problem. Now, come on, the bus gets here in 6 minutes and I don’t want to miss it and half to wait another 30.”

You didn’t bother arguing with her, and just followed her to the bus stop. You boarded the bus and couldn’t help but look anxiously around until Jess hit you to stop. She began chatting with you about meaningless things to keep your mind off the idea that mobsters could take over the bus at any minute.  

“Alright, this is our stop,” Jess said, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the bus.  You followed her like a lost puppy. You knew you could trust her, but your irrational side was terrified that mob guys were behind every corner and hidden in every shadow. You didn’t even know what a mob guy would look like, but you were terrified of them anyway.

You got to the door of the club and gave your IDs to the doorman. He seemed to linger on your ID longer than he did on Jess’s, but eventually he gave you a nod and opened the door for both of you to enter. A hostess met you inside the door and led you to the only open table in the very front of the dark club. With only dim candles to provide you light, you could hardly read the drink menu.

“(Y/N), stop trying to read that menu. Even your cheap ass can afford a drink here. There’s literally nothing over 10 dollars,” Jess snapped at you. “Rachel’s here!” She waved towards the door trying to catch Rachel’s eye in the dark room.

“Good luck getting her to see you. I don’t think I could even find my purse in here if I took it off.”

“Stop being a grump,” she told you as Rachel got to the table.

“Hey! (Y/N)! I can’t believe Jess got you to leave the house on a Friday for once! To what do we owe the honor?” Rachel asked you, sitting down.

“I had a long fucking week with Mr. Stark and I needed a night out,” you replied. When you were hired as Tony Stark’s personal assistant you had thought it would be a glamorous job full of cocktail hours and million dollar deals that you would take notes on; instead it was a whole lot of getting coffee, picking up dry cleaning, and late nights ensuring his many employees were properly scheduled for their work shifts. For whatever reason, Stark’s business had a high turnover of employees, so you had to continually update the schedule.

The waiter came to your table to take your orders. As you couldn’t read the menu, you simply asked for the cheapest thing that contained alcohol. Just a few minutes later a tallboy of PBR was placed in front of you. You downed it as the waiter gave Jess and Rachel their drinks, giving you a chance to order another.

“Damn, (Y/N)! I don’t even want to tell you to slow down!” Jess said.

“Yaaasss girl! This is gonna be a good night!” Rachel chimed in.

You caught up with both of them and learned all about their love lives and their work struggles. As your life basically revolved around Tony Stark, you didn’t have much to add to the conversation.

“Alright, It’s almost 9:00! (Y/N), get ready to see one of THE hottest men you have ever laid your eyes on!” Jess told you excitedly.

“I thought we came for the cheap drinks?” you asked confused.

“The cheap drinks are an added bonus, the lounge singer is the main event,” Rachel told you. “This man has the voice of an angel and the face of one too.”

“Alright, this was definitely a good night to come out then!” you replied, finishing your second beer and beginning to feel a buzz.

The lights on the stage came up, and a silence fell over the crowd. The curtain opened and you saw a tall, muscular man in a well-fitting suit standing behind a microphone, joined on the stage by a bass, a piano, and a drummer.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, The White Wolf and The Howlers,” an announcer voice said from somewhere off-stage. Applause filled the club.

“A one, a two, a one, two, three, four,” the man at the microphone, whom you assumed was ‘The White Wolf’, counted in with snaps. The drums began and the bass and piano joined in to create the beat. The White Wolf swayed side to side, feeling the music. He began to sing:

Have you got colour in your cheeks? Do you ever get the fear that you can't shift the type That sticks around like summat in your teeth? Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I’ve dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow And I play it on repeat Until I fall asleep Spilling drinks on my settee

You most certainly did have color in your cheeks as you audibly gulped, looking at Jess and Rachel. They quietly laughed at your response and Rachel whispered, “told ya!” in you ear. You could not believe how incredibly handsome this man was and couldn’t figure out how his voice could sound so smooth and yet slightly (and very sexily) raspy at the same time. Everything about him was perfect and you turned your attention back to him, not wanting to ever part your eyes from his face.

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new Now I’ve thought it through Crawling back to you

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn that his eyes were locked on your just as tightly as yours were on him. It sent a tingling feeling through your stomach and up your spine.

So have you got the guts? Been wondering if your heart’s still open And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts Simmer down and pucker up I’m sorry to interrupt, it’s just I’m constantly on the cusp Of trying to kiss you I don’t know if you feel the same as I do We could be together if you wanted to

Now you knew he was staring at you as he mocked a kiss in your direction, causing Jess and Rachel to squeal. You had always laughed at those old romantic stories of women swooning, but you were convinced you could swoon any minute, as you were suddenly feeling very hot.

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

Crawling back to you Ever thought of calling when you’ve had a few? ‘Cause I always do Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new Now I’ve thought it through Crawling back to you

(Do I wanna know?) If this feeling flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hoping that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For saying things that you can't say tomorrow day

(Do I wanna know?) Too busy being yours to fall (Sad to see you go) Ever thought of calling, darling? (Do I wanna know?) Do you want me crawling back to you?

The lights on the stage went out and the curtains closed.

“What I wouldn’t give to have him crawling back to me right now,” you moaned to Jess and Rachel, causing them to both giggle. “Is that it? He just does one?” You were practically begging him back on stage.

“He always opens the night and then a few other acts come on and then he closes the show,” Jess told you.

“Holy shit, he was amazing,” you gushed.

“Yeah, he never disappoints,” Rachel replied.

You motioned for the watier to come to your table, “Dear sir, another round for the three of us on me in honor of my introduction to this very fine,” you looked at the stage, “establishment!”

The waiter brought you the drinks and you slid him a large tip, feeling extra generous now that you had been blessed by the voice of the angelic White Wolf. The rest of the night dragged on as you waited for the White Wolf to return to the stage for his closing act.

“Ok, this should be him up next!” Jess told you.

Your heart started racing as the curtain closed as the group currently on the stage finished.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to announce that The White Wolf and The Howlers have been called away to another gig. Our closing act for this evening will now be The Freightcars!”

“What the fuck!” You immediately covered your mouth, not meaning to swear out loud, but you had had 2 drinks too many and couldn’t control your language.

Jess and Rachel laughed. Rachel pulled out her phone to order a ride-share to pick you up.

“Come on, (Y/N), let’s get you home,” Jess grabbed your arm and helped you up, steering you towards the door.

The ride back to your apartment was filled with you gushing about how incredibly hot you thought the White Wolf was and how you needed to have him in your life. Jess and Rachel fed your obsession, trying to help you find him on social media. They successfully found the band’s Instagram page and you immediately liked it and in a drunken haze liked every single photo they had ever posted.

“Rachel, Jess, thank you for a wonderful evening that has changed my life forever. Same time next week?” You asked, unlocking your door and hugging them goodbye before they went to Jess’s car.

“Sure thing!” Rachel replied, laughing.

“I’m glad we’ve found something that’ll get you out of the house and away from the office!” Jess giggled, getting in the car.

You laid in bed scrolling through The White Wolf and The Howlers’ Instagram until you fell asleep.

CHAPTER TWO

[lunalockser]

Picnics in the Sunshine

Link to FF.net version

Link to AO3

Summary: When a date doesn’t go as planned, Gray has to find a way to cheer up his girlfriend

Note: Hey Puddins, a sweet Gruvia story that I am not sure where it came to me. Gajevy also makes an appearance, as a tribute to my sister hinalover281 on FF.net Please Review and Favorite!Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima.

“Gray-sama, tomorrow let’s have a picnic,” the rain woman was currently trying to plan a date for her and her boyfriend. It had been a few months since they had begun dating, and she couldn’t have been happier.

“Sure, some peace and quiet might be a good break from dealing with Flamebrain all day,” the ice mage responded, chuckling at her excitement in planning the details.

“Juvia will make lots of yummy treats for the date, ooh she is so excited! All Gray-sama has to do is bring a blanket,” she started talking so fast in her happiness that Gray was afraid she’d faint. Since they had started dating, she had, for the most part, stopped getting frantic around him, she had him now so there was no need to get worked up trying to impress him. But there were moments that she would get so happy Gray thought she would explode.

Gray smirked at his blue-haired girlfriend, planting a kiss to her head to calm her down. She stopped her ranting and smiled up at him.  He wasn’t a very touchy-feely person, but he was learning to open up to her. She understood his struggle and appreciated his little successes.

A few hours later Juvia wanted to head home and start preparing everything for their date tomorrow. She knew that making everything she wanted to would take a while. As she said her goodbyes to her iron-loving friend and his hazel-eyed beloved, Gray escaped from his fight with the pink haired dragon slayer.

Gray looked over at his girlfriend on the walk to Fairy Hills, and instantly her smile was contagious. It always shocked him how easy it was to keep her happy. Not to say she was easy, but it has always fascinated how simply holding her hand made her eyes shine. He couldn’t help feel guilty, she was always so open with her affections, but he just couldn’t be. Whenever he tried his voice would catch and he would end up looking like a fool. She never seemed to notice, and his goofs always seemed to make her happier than if he would succeed.

Pulling his arm around her, the two kept walking in their silence. Gray was grateful she was so understanding about his strife. He was trying, and he was grateful she had stayed by him. He knew it wasn’t easy for her before they started dating. But she kept loving him anyway, and Gray loved her back.

When they arrived at the dorm, she gave him a chaste kiss to the lips before turning around to head upstairs. She called out to him not to forget the blanket and ran inside. As he turned back towards his apartment, he remembered her smile. She was always self-conscious about being gloomy, but Gray could only see her as sunshine.

———————————————————————————————–

Juvia woke up the next morning buzzing with excitement. She couldn’t wait to spend her day relaxing with Gray. She got up and walked to the window, expecting to see bright sunlight. She hadn’t been prepared for the dark clouds and rain.

“No, no,” she whispered to herself. This couldn’t be right, yesterday had been so beautiful. It shouldn’t have been raining, she hadn’t even been feeling upset last night. It was the exact opposite, she had been so happy.

Her heart broke when she saw the ground, everything was soaked, and it was too muddy to have a picnic. The rain had ruined her plans, again. She felt defeated, she had ruined everything again.

She let the tears run down her face as she turned away from the window. When she saw the picnic basket sitting on her kitchen table, she sobbed harder. She had worked on everything so hard.

Juvia no longer felt like going out. She didn’t want to go to the guild and see Gray disappointed. She couldn’t face the fact that she had messed today up for them. All she wanted to do was be alone and not make anyone else sad.

Grabbing her basket, she walked outside her door barefoot and went up to the first girl she saw.

“Oh hey Juvia, on your way to the guildhall?” the script mage smiled.

“Hello Levy, Juvia is not feeling well today. She is just going to stay inside today,” she tried her best to smile, but the other bluenette clearly didn’t believe it.

“No one is gonna blame you for this rain if that’s what you’re worried about,” Levy assured her, “Besides, just because you two can’t go out doesn’t mean Gray doesn’t want to see you, you should at least go talk to him.” The smaller girl smiled her friend.

“Thank you Levy, but Juvia just doesn’t feel up to it today, but can you bring these to Gray-sama? It seems a waste if they aren’t eaten today,” The water mage sighed, lifting the basket up.

“Sure, I’ll do my best not to let Erza get to them before I get there, but are you sure you’ll be fine alone, I can come back over and maybe we could have a girl day?” Juvia smiled to, who she hoped would be her future sister in law, and insisted she was fine. Levy didn’t seem too sure but didn’t push any further.

Juvia sighed as she went back into her room, she crawled under her covers and just prayed the rain would go away soon.

Gray was getting anxious, he had been waiting for 15 minutes since it was time for his girlfriend to meet him at the guild. She was never late, she made it a point to always be on time, if not early. Immediately after waking up and seeing the rain, he got a bad feeling in his stomach. He knew that Juvia was still insecure about her rain, and he was worried. He had a feeling this wasn’t her rain though, which was confirmed by the iron dragon slayer, but Juvia would often feel guilty even if it wasn’t her rain.

Right when he was about to panic, Levy caught his attention. Walking up to her, he ignored the slight glare coming to him from Gajeel’s direction, he apparently was leaving in a few for a job and didn’t appreciate being interrupted with Levy.

“Stripper, clothes,” was all the man grunted. He looked down to find he was missing his shirt, he brushed it off, as long as he had pants.

“Hey, have you seen Juvia around today?” he asked, trying to keep his calm demeanor.

“Yeah she said she wasn’t up to going out today, but she wanted me to give you this,” Gray took the basket from her and opened it up. He shouldn’t have been shocked to see it so full. It looked like she had spent hours getting everything ready, he could see plenty of brownies, cookies, and several types of sandwiches, each was wrapped so carefully.

“She said she didn’t want them to go to waste, the rain is really getting to her today,” he heard his childhood friend explain. He just stood staring at the basket in his hands. A plan was forming in his mind.

“I need your help.”

“With what?”

He quickly described his plan to her, stopping only so she could say goodbye to her boyfriend. When he was finished she agreed to help him, he just needed to run back to his apartment to grab a few items and meet back with her at Fairy Hills.

When he reached his apartment, he grabbed another shirt and a few movie lacrima. He tucked them into the bag that already had the blanket. That’s when he saw it, a doll he had picked up during a job a few weeks back. He hadn’t known what drew him to it, and he had to buy it in secret to avoid the hell Natsu and Happy would give him. Looking at it again, he realized it reminded him of Juvia, not like those teru-teru dolls she used to make, but something else. It was stitched together, but somehow its eyes looked like glass. They were blue, and so was its dress. He didn’t know why, but he thought Juvia would like it, so he threw it in the bag.

Grabbing the bag and basket, he headed back to Fairy Hills. He hoped Levy had a good way of getting him in, his plan was shot if Erza caught him and killed him. He knew Levy wouldn’t even get in trouble, that girl knew Erza had a soft spot for her, hell everyone did.

When he arrived, the petite girl quickly grabbed him and pulled him to the back. She led him to the back of the building, to a closed off staircase.

“This used to be an old fire escape,” she explained, “Normally when they open, an alarm is supposed to sound, but I put a SILENT on so it doesn’t work.”

“And if there is a fire?”

“Lucy doesn’t have a dorm here so we don’t sneak in Natsu, plus Juvia has the sprinklers pumped with enough water to put out anything,” Levy laughed, “Besides, these are old, if there ever was a fire we would use the ones closer to the rooms.”

“And whose idea was it to use these to sneak in boys?”

“Juvia’s actually, she helps me sneak in Gajeel all the time, this is repayment.”

Gray couldn’t respond to that. It was almost funny thinking about the giant dragon slayer trying to sneak around. And his fear every time he would turn a corner hoping not to see another girl. Though he did not want to think about what could be going on in the dorm. Gray didn’t have too much time to his thoughts before he found himself on the top of the stairs. Levy lead him through the halls, him trying not fall too behind. His life flashed before his eyes when he found out they had to pass Erza’s room. He died when he found out it was rooms instead. What the hell? Five rooms, he had to try to pass five rooms in five seconds. Mavis help him.

“Alright, this is her door,” The book lover directed him.

“Thanks, I owe you,” As she went down the hall, he heard something about a new book. Gray knocked twice before he heard a response. Feet shuffled then a click, and next thing he knew he was looking at his girlfriend.

Her hair was messily pulled back, and she was wearing an oversized shirt with sleeves that went past her hands. He noticed she wasn’t wearing pants, and the shirt left her guild mark visible. If it wasn’t for the obvious tear stains on her cheeks or the way her blue eyes were red and puffy, he would have lost himself in how hot she looked. But for her sake, he kept his hormones in check.

“Gray-sama, what are you doing here?” the water mage asked quickly, realizing her boyfriend was in the girls’ dorm. She rushed him inside and locked the door behind her.

“How did Gray-sama get inside the dorm?” she asked, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, she didn’t want him to know how much she’d been crying.

“Same way Gajeel apparently gets in.”

“Oh,” Juvia shifted awkwardly, she wasn’t expecting her love to show up. She smiled her hardest to try and show him that she was fine. His concerned gaze told her she wasn’t being very convincing.

“I thought that since its too wet outside for a standard picnic in the park, we could have an indoor one instead,” the ice mage smiled, holding up the basket, “I figured it would be nice to kick back and watch a few movies.”

Juvia teared as she looked at her boyfriend holding the bags. It wasn’t a big thing, but she couldn’t help the emotions. Gray had just risked his neck breaking into the dorm, all so he could cheer her up. He really did know her, and really did care.

Gray held her as she let out the rest of her tears, keeping her close and telling her it was fine. He whispered his love, telling her he wasn’t going anywhere. When she was finished, and her breathing evened out, he gave her one last hug and went to set up the movie while she pulled out plates and set out the snacks from the picnic.

When they were done setting things up, Gray sat on her bed and motioned for her to lay next to him. He didn’t object when she cuddled up into him, and they both began absentmindedly eating their sandwiches as the movie began to play.

Hours later, the couple had seen The Wizard of Oz(Juvia’s favorite movie, she loved the colors and the songs), Rise of the Guardians(Gray commenting how his ice magic was better and how Jack wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight), 50 First Dates(Gray almost fell off the bed laughing and Juvia enjoyed the love story), and had eaten the entire basket.

It was getting late, and he could feel Juvia drifting off. Suddenly he remembered the doll sitting in the bag.

“Oh, I’ve got something for you,” he moved out of bed quickly, and Juvia groaned at the disruption. While he got up she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“Here,” he handed her the doll. She gasped as she grabbed it, gently running her fingers over its China blue eyes and sewn blue hair. She smiled and pressed it to her chest.

“Thank you, Juvia loves it,” she whispered quietly as she kissed him on the cheek.

“Your welcome,” he whispered, pulling her back to him as the two tucked in for the night. In the morning, he would have to sneak out of the dorm. But he could deal with that later, for now, he was just happy that his girlfriend had sunshine back in her eyes.

[embracetheapocalypsewithme]

Embracing the Apocalypse, Part 8: Poor Life Choices

Happy Wednesday...Surprise! A chapter!

Summary: Rebecca finally lets Negan know that she wants to spend time with him. But is she making a terrible choice? Is he really who he seems to be?

Word count: 2,343

Warnings: Smut, Negan, Negan being Negan, Comic Negan being Comic Negan, light angst, feelings, and bribery.

Part 1: The Tale of Thelma Facefuck

Part 2: What’s Up, Doc?

Part 3: A Successful Job Interview Begins with a Firm Handshake and Ends with a Salty Surprise

Part 4: A Crack in Everything

Part 5: Sorting Duty Sucks

Part 6: A Faint Whiff of Bullshit in the Air

Part 7: Turn and Face the Strange

Part 8: Poor Life Choices

Part 9: 8.5 out of 10

Part 10: No Plan

Part 11: Negan Settles Rebecca’s Hash

Part 12: I know Where That Hand Has Been, Negan

Part 13: Gimme Danger

Part 14: The Loneliest Hours of the Morning

Part 15: Well, Fuck You Too, Kitty!

Part 16: That Escalated Quickly

Part 17: Well Fuck Me Gently with a Chainsaw

Part 18: Shards of Glass

Part 19: Donkey Heaven

Part 20: Morphine Dream

Part 21: Promises to Keep

Part 22: Are You a Killer?

Part 23: That the Hill You Want to Die On?

Part 24: Keeping Up Appearances

Part 25: Bird on a Wire

You can also read my work on Archive of Our Own: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8807527/chapters/21048044

Part 8: Poor Life Choices

People were just starting to file into the cafeteria as Rebecca approached the counter to collect her breakfast. Today’s delicacies were baked beans from a can, two slices of toast, and three pieces of jerky. The toast was the best part of the meal; it was homemade by one of the few kitchen staff who had any culinary talent. The whole area smelled of freshly baked bread, and it made Rebecca feel a pang of nostalgia for a former life in which she would visit artisan bakeries on the weekends to buy herself confections and fancy lattes.

(how did i manage to survive so long in a world as brutal as this? i was such a little cinnamon bun!)

Shuffling to a nearby table that held a large pot of hot water, Styrofoam cups, instant coffee, and powdered milk, she began to prepare a cup of coffee. This was a long way from her skinny double latte with a shot of sugar-free caramel, but it had enough caffeine in it to keep her going through the morning.

Once the coffee was made, Rebecca sat down by herself in the room’s furthest corner and began to eat. Eating alone never bothered her; she needed to get coffee and food into her belly before she could be social anyway. 

By the time she had finished her meal, the room was buzzing with the sounds of conversation. Smiling serenely, she let the din of voices swirl over her like a warm wave. That sound meant security. 

There was safety in numbers. She had to remember this fact when she got annoyed with people. Life here was just easier than life outside, even if you had to tolerate the occasional asshole.

She stood up and started to clear her dishes from the table to make room for some of the latecomers who needed a place. An older woman hovered nearby, glancing at her seat.

“It’s free, if you need a spot to sit,” Rebecca offered.

The woman nodded at her and moved toward the spot, “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Have a good morning!” Rebecca replied cheerfully.

On her way out of the cafeteria, she decided to grab a second cup of coffee. She took her place in line behind two women who appeared to be in their early to mid-twenties. They were dressed in dirt-stained jeans, t-shirts, and long-sleeved men’s flannel shirts. Their hair was tied back from their faces and they each had a pair of gardening gloves tucked into their back pockets.

Rebecca smiled and tried to catch one of their eyes to introduce herself. Perhaps she could weasel her way out of the sorting rooms and into the garden crew if she could ingratiate herself with some of them. Maybe they would put in a good word for her. Before she could attempt some post-apocalyptic networking, a huge hand fell onto Rebecca’s shoulder.

“Hey, Fuckface!” the booming voice came from behind her. It was way too loud and right in her ear. Rebecca jumped while the girls in front of her jerked their heads around to see who had made the noise. Their eyes widened, and they hastily made their drinks before leaving the room, throwing one more nervous glance over their shoulders as they did. 

Rebecca whirled around angrily to glare at the person who had scared off her opportunity, already knowing exactly who she would find. Of course it was him again. It always seemed to be him.

Negan towered over her with a broad smile on his face, evidently impressed at his ability to startle half-awake people early in the morning. He seemed as though he had been awake for hours with his hair slicked back in its characteristic style and his face freshly shaved. He smelled of cedar and spices. God, he was beautiful to look at! For a moment, Rebecca forgot to be annoyed with him, but that didn’t last long.

“You jerk!” she swatted at his arm playfully, “I was gonna suck up to those girls. Get myself out of sorting duty! You scared them off.”

“I didn’t scare anyone away! They were just so turned on that they couldn’t stand to be in my presence for much longer. On account of the spontaneous fucking orgasms I gave them. From my sexiness.”

She was just about to come up with what was sure to be a savage retort when a man further back in the line yelled, “What the fuck is the hold up! Move the fucking line please!”

“Sorry!” she yelled over her shoulder before quickly making her second cup of the morning. As she walked toward the exit she motioned for Negan to join her in the hallway with a tilt of her head, and he followed.

“So, about last night,” she began, taking a sip of her coffee and grimacing at the bitter, yet sour flavour. These were most definitely not gourmet beans.

 “Yeah, I’m a pretty fucking great guy, aren’t I? You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, it was alright, I suppose…”

“Alright? You fucking serious right now?”

“No, I’m almost never serious,” she said with a cheeky smirk, “It was actually really fucking nice and…I kind of want to do it again.”

Rebecca was surprised at her own forwardness. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was her inability to give a fuck about the small things anymore. Fear of rejection seemed so silly in the face of life’s much bigger tragedies. Who really cared if he rejected her? She had nothing left to lose.

“Is that fucking so?” he asked, his eyes narrowing at her.

“It is. Maybe when I’m less exhausted. You know, just to talk or something. It gets kind of boring at night sometimes.”

“I see. Netflix and chill, as the kids used to say?” he asked, leaning in closer. His leather jacket creaked softly as his weight shifted forward. Rebecca felt her pulse quicken as the scent invaded her nose. “I think I can arrange something tonight, if you’re so inclined.”

“Ok! I was thinking maybe after dinner. You could give me a tour around the place. I still haven’t seen the whole building. Maybe you could find some fun spots I haven’t seen yet.”

“Hot damn, let’s do it!” he said exuberantly. She couldn’t help but grin at his seemingly boundless enthusiasm. It was goddam contagious.

“Deal! I should get to work now though. Got another thrilling day of putting piles of things into smaller piles of things.”

“Gosh, that does sound fucking fun as shit! Meet me here after dinner? Let’s say 7?

 “Works for me –“

“Rebecca!” the voice that came from a few feet away belonged to her Sorting Duty Accomplice, Ryan. It was friendly, but with a tense undertone to it that confused her, “What the hell are you doing blabbing in the hall. We have to get our asses to work!”

“Be right there!” she yelled, then turning to Negan, “See you later!”

Rebecca made her way over to where Ryan stood waiting for her. As she approached him, she noticed that the expression on his face had changed from cheerful to stony and tense. He sighed before softly saying, “We need to talk, darling...”

*****

The grin dropped from Negan’s face as he watched Rebecca all but skip over to a young man with wavy brown hair. He was everything that Negan wasn’t: young and clean-cut with a gentleness to him. Venom rose in his throat as he watched the young man put an arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and lead her away. As they walked, he overheard snippets of the conversation:

“We need to talk, darling...” said the young man.

“Sure! About what?” replied Rebecca.

“About poor life choices and how you can avoid making any more of them.”

(fuck!)

“Uhhh…ok…” she began, but by then they had moved far enough away that the rest of their conversation was muffled. He didn’t need to hear it; he knew what they were talking about.

Of course, Rebecca was being warned about him. He knew it would happen eventually. The young man confirmed this as he threw a quick glance over his shoulder at Negan and then quickly flipped him off using the hand that had been resting on Rebecca’s right shoulder. She glanced around, sensing the movement, but was too slow to catch his gesture.

(well, so much for that)

He should have known better than to think that he could trick someone like her into believing that he was a good guy. Of course he wasn’t. He was the kind of guy who bashed in skulls and leeched off of others. He was scum, no matter how good his intensions might have been.

(who fucking cares? she’s just another bitch. there are lots of women here, so just move on. find someone else to stick your dick in)

But he knew that wasn’t exactly the truth. Yes, there were other women here, but practically all of them were terrified of him or hated his guts. The only ones who didn’t fall into one of those two categories were his few remaining ex-wives, and they mostly saw him as a joke.

Since he had been put back into power, Rebecca had been the first person who hadn’t looked at him like he was a rabid dog or a punchline. She treated him like an equal; nothing more and nothing less. Plus, she actually laughed at his stupid jokes and trucker mouth. He didn’t think anyone had sincerely laughed with him since before the world had gone to shit.

(too late now…she’s gone too..)

Negan turned abruptly, his hands balled into fists, fingernails digging into his palms and his jaw clenched. He strode back toward his room quickly. In the “good old days” he would have ironed the smug expression right out of the younger man’s face, but those days were over. Yes, he was the leader, but the dynamic in this place had changed. People were afraid, but not in the way that had previously kept them in line. They were on edge now, looking for any reason to find fault with Negan and potentially knock him out of his role as leader.

Bile rose in his throat. He was enraged at the situation, and at his inability to inflict revenge. Plus, who did he really have to blame but himself anyway? He was living in the culture of fear that he had created. He had been wrong about leading with fear, so why shouldn’t he suffer for it now?

His eyes fell on a woman walking in the distance with natural red hair that fell just below her shoulders. Her frame was tall and lean, and although her back was to him, he recognized the woman almost immediately.

“Julie! Hey baby, what’s fucking shaking?” he yelled.

The woman’s head whipped around at the sound of his voice, “Oh. Negan. Hi,” her eyes looked nearly glazed over with disinterest, “Nothing much. Just heading off to another thrilling day of commissary work.”

Julie had been one of his wives during his first stint as leader, and for good reason: she was absolutely stunning. She was the kind of woman he never would have had a chance with if he hadn’t tilted the odds in his favour by offering her a life of leisure and relative luxury.

For all that she was beautiful, Julie was lazy as shit and hated to get her hands dirty. She had nearly jumped at the offer to be his wife and never work again. It seemed, though, that in his absence she was back to pulling her own weight. She did not appear to be the least bit enthused with this situation.

An idea sprang into Negan’s head as he recalled his time with Julie. He couldn’t make her his wife again, but maybe he still had just enough power to get into her pants. He wasn’t an evil man, but he could be a manipulative asshole when he was angry. And today, he was fucking pissed.

“Well, what if I told you that you could have the whole fucking day off?” he asked, a dark expression passing through his eyes like a solar eclipse as he stepped closer to the woman.

“Go on…” her eyes lit up at the idea.

“I was just thinking that, if you wanted to get together tonight for a bit of…reminiscing about the good old days with me, maybe I could switch your shift with someone and you could go back to bed for a while. I remember how much you love sleeping in.” 

The woman considered the proposition for a very brief moment, and then promptly threw her arms around his shoulders, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Oh thank you, Negan! I missed you so much! It’s so good to see you again. I can’t wait to catch up with you.”

“Great,” he said, “My room after dinner. Don’t be late now.”

“I won’t!” she called over her shoulder, already walking briskly back to her bedroom, “I’ll even wear that little dress you like. I still have it!”

Congratulating himself on a well-executed plan, Negan walked the remaining few steps to the commissary and stuck his head around the door, looking for the supervisor. His eyes locked with an older woman who was taking stock of the items available that day.

“Julie won’t be in today,” he said with a cold, no-nonsense expression on his face, “She’s sick. Get someone in to cover for her.”

“There is no one else to cover for her!” the woman practically snarled at him.

“Well, then manage with the staff you have.”

“Prick,” the woman muttered under her breath.

Negan ignored the taunt and strode back to his bedroom alone, thinking about what the evening had in store for him. If he couldn’t trick Rebecca into wanting to spend time with him, he could at least bribe Julie into his bed. Maybe that was all he deserved anyway.

[juliettespencerus]

How To Get Immediate Relief From Bed Bugs Problems

If you found yourself woken from a deep sleep in the middle of the night with an incredible itch and find there is a line of at least two insect bites, chances are that you have bed bugs sharing your bed and feeding off you while you are asleep.  For me, this is how it started and I thought it could be any insect or even spider bites and became a huge problem that robbed me hours of sleep and a hell of swells nights after nights for almost two years until I cracked the code.  I am sharing this from a personal experience of dealing with bed bugs infestation in my apartment for over a year.  I am by no means a scientist, nor am I an entomologist.   The experience, though, came from countless hours of research of what works and what not from a real life experiments.

There were nights I woke up from a deep sleep to vicious itches from bites of these hungry little devils.  After a few nights of deprived sleep, I became easily agitated and was extremely miserable.  I had a very hard time concentrating at work and felt very tired.  Luckily I had my own business; otherwise I would have been fired from constantly showing up late and not in the mood.  The swells were also embarrassing. My friend wouldn’t let me go near their home for fear of getting infested by the bugs.  The problem kept getting worst and I didn’t have the money to hire a professional terminator to come and heat up my entire apartment.

I tried very desperately to find out a way to stop this insanity but nothing seemed to work.  Trust me, those red dots are an understatement when it comes to having to be woken up in the middle of a deep sleep.  After months of research, I stumbled upon a one of the youtubers about how alcohol can kill bed bugs right on spot.  I had some live bed bugs to experiment and from then on, the recovery began.  So, this is what I found out and I want to share this very effective technique, so you can at least get some good sleep at nights.

PEST CONTROL SERVICES GENERALLY DON’T OFFER A PERMANENT SOLUTION AND CAN BE VERY EXPENSIVE AND TOXIC.  EVENTUALLY, THE BUGS COME BACK IF YOU DON’T HAVE A GOOD MAINTENANCE SYSTEM IN PLACE.

YOU CAN USE A VERY SIMPLE AND INEXPENSIVE PRODUCT TO KILL BED BUGS AS YOU FIND THEM OR AS SOON AS THEY ARE HATCHED OUT OF THEIR EGGS.

I WAS ABLE TO DEAL WITH THE PROBLEM AND WAS ABLE TO HAVE ITCH-FREE NIGHTS OF SLEEP AGAIN BY FOLLOWING THESE FEW SIMPLE STEPS WITHIN TWO WEEKS.

Before getting started, I must warn you that this is a temporary method that requires some patience but it will work over time and eventually get rid of those pesky bugs for good.  You just have to know what to look for and what to avoid and do to prevent them from colonizing your most personal space.  Be persistent and vigilant of any indications that there might be a bed bug invading your living space.  I didn’t have pets, so solutions might be different for those of you who do.  But by applying the same principles, you can also alleviate the problem by following these steps.

There are two types of bed bugs problems:

New arrivals:  Like me, most people are not aware of the problem until it becomes too late and the problem will be very difficult to solve.  But if you have just noticed the bites, chances are it’s a new problem and can be very easily fixed.  You just have to be sure the bites are from bed bugs and not a mosquito bite that will never follow you into your bedroom.

Identifying if it’s a bed bug bite:

If you see red swells in zigzag lines or small clusters or a straight row, chances are the bugs have invaded you. While these bugs don’t spread diseases to humans, the bites are extremely irritating and can lead to bleeding and infection from scratches.  And good luck if you are diabetic.

Once you identify and know for sure that the swells and itches are form bed bugs, here is what you do next

Find out where the bugs are. If they are in the area near the seam line of your garment, like at the edge of your shirt sleeves or the collar of your shirts, chances are that’s where the bugs hide or where they laid their eggs and when it’s hatched, hungry baby bugs rush out to feed on the closest exposed skin.  Another bug’s favorite hiding place in your closet is where the socks are because it provides the best accommodation to bugs and it can’t be seen.  But don’t despair because these can be very easily fixed.  Here is how:

99% RUBBING ALCOHOL IS YOUR BEST ALLY WHEN IT COMES TO FIGHTING THE BED BUG BATTLE.

Bed bugs usually lay their eggs after they are well fed, most likely right after they feed on you and you want to prevent that from happening as soon as you get bit.

I’d buy a ton of 99% rubbing alcohol and put them in a spray bottle near by.  I even bring it everywhere I travel with at least one or two bottles.  Once I notice the bites from one of these areas, I’d spray the alcohol all over the seam line on my clothes, especially around the collar where my big vein from the neck is exposed.  Spray on them until they are wet.   This usually kills the adult bed bugs on contact and will save you at least a day free of the bites.  Repeat this everyday before you put on your clothes.  What also pleasantly surprised was that my feet no longer smell like a dead rat from being in the shoes all day.  I can go to any house and confidently take my shoes or sneaker off without the host making funny face.  This alone will justify having 99% or at least 91% rubbing alcohol around for personal grooming purpose.  Cautionary note: it’s not recommended to light a cigarette or a match when you are waiting for the sprayed item to be dried.  You might end up killing the bugs but losing your favorite garment or even your house for good.

Once you are aware that you have the problem, then treating it is very easy.  If you think it’s from the place you just returned from a vacation, you then just spray the whole luggage, backpack, then put them in plastic bags where bed bugs can’t crawl out of it to your bedroom.  Bed bugs can’t travel on a smooth slick surface like plastic bag, nylon or a bottle.  It’s like making a deadly trap where they are waited to by massacred by the spraying of alcohol.  It’s quite satisfying to know that you have power over these bad guys for the first time.  But don’t do this on a person; you might get a punch in the face instead.  Repeat this process every time or even everyday before you put on your clothing and this will save you from the wrath of hungry newly hatched baby bugs.  I do it on my sock everyday just for the odor removal purpose and my feet never smell better.

WIN THE WAR AGAINST BED BUGS WITH A POWERFUL VACUUM CLEANER AND DIATOMACEOUS EARTH

everyday just for the odor removal purpose and my feet never smell better.

WIN THE WAR AGAINST BED BUGS WITH A POWERFUL VACUUM CLEANER AND DIATOMACEOUS EARTH

I still remember how satisfying watching this little mo-fo suffocate and die and turned into a dried dead bug after 48 hours of exposure to diatomaceous earth.

WHAT IS DIATOMACEOUS EARTH?

Diatomaceous earth is made from the fossilized remains of tiny aquatic organisms called diatoms. Their skeletons are made from a natural substance called silica. Over a long period of time, diatoms have accumulated in the sediments of rivers, streams, lakes and oceans. Today, silica deposits are extracted from these areas.

The microscopic particles of diatomaceous earth are deadly for bedbugs. Particles attach themselves to the body of bed bugs and physically “scratch and dehydrate them to death!” Because they kill them mechanically, they cannot become immune as they do with so many chemicals today. Because it’s a mineral, once you’ve dropped it, it stays there and continues to work. You can sweep it away as you get rid of dead Bed Bugs, but the diatomaceous earth does not lose its energy over time.  It does not contain any pesticides or other dangerous compounds and it so safe it can be used to de-worming pets as well.

From my experiment (you can try this for your own satisfaction), bed bugs are dead after 48 hours after the exposure, so I figure I’d round them up where they cannot escape and die a slowly death within the bag of my vacuum cleaner.  This is where the power of your vacuum cleaner comes to play.

First I suck a good amount of the earth into the vacuum bag, then I let the fun begins by vacuuming the whole affected area over and over until I don’t see or am sure that all bugs are in the bags, especially around the bed area where bugs like to settle cause who wouldn’t want to live far away from work right?

Then I spray the earth as a barrier to keep the bugs from taking a tour to my next room by laying a line of the earth along the door.  It’s not a pleasant sight but I would trade that for a good night sleep for my kids any day.  You want to repeat this process at least twice a week in the beginning until you or your roommate or your kids don’t experience the nightmare of waking up in the middle of the night for a month, then you can go easy on the diatomaceous earth depends on how serious your problem is.

Bed bugs detect human by the carbon dioxide we breathe out and don’t have any sense of smell, taking a bath in cologne won’t deter them and the only way you can hide from them is to stop breathing or you can kill them.

CLEAN UP AND WASH YOUR BED SHEET AT LEAST THREE TIMES A WEEK!

The uninvited guests that refuse to leave:

I know parents will love this, except when they see their utility bills, but putting your clothing in a hot dryer can kill bed bugs and their eggs if they are exposed to the heat at least 90 minutes plus you get to sleep in a clean sheet like staying in a five star hotel three times a week.  What not to like?  And if you get a bite at nights, it means the bugs are somewhere in your mattress or close by.  If you have this problem, it could be that you already have an infestation problem.  I remember the horror when I saw my ex-roommate’s mattress filled with bed bugs drops, bloodstains and what you see on the Internet.  It’s true and it can happen to you very quickly, especially if you like to leave your room cluttered and a mess.  So, this is what I did and it worked at least the night of the treatment.

Wash the bed sheets, blanket, and pillowcases in hot temperature and put them in the dryer for at least 90 minutes. There are laundry detergents for bed bugs on the market now but I haven’t tried it.  I think it’s worth giving a try because if it works, then your battle is mostly won.

Vacuum the mattress and the area around the bed every night and make sure there is some diatomaceous earth in the vacuum bag, especially the cracks and seems along the wall. If you have a carpeted room, then it could be harder but it can be treated with patience and time.

If not sure, spray seams of the pillow, mattress and any fabric with rubbing alcohol near where you sleep thoroughly until they are wet. Wait until they are dry before you go to bed cause you don’t want to get high or drunk laying in 99% rubbing alcohol.

That’s how I completely got rid of the bugs within a month or so.  I then was able to have a good night sleep without any interference immediately after the bedding treatment at least for a few days when the bugs can return.

I hope this helps.  At least it gave me some immediate relief after sleepless nights to a point where I get paranoia every time I felt a tingling sensation in my body because I have such bad reaction to the bite and it was such a painful and itchy experience.  I wish there was something like this to help me through that period.

I’d go with the most powerful vacuum cleaner and the food grade diatomaceous eath if I can.  The rubbing alcohol is a must if you don’t want to have the bites on your body during the day when the baby bugs are hatched and hungry.

Let me know if it works.  I have also listed the products I used, or you can simply browse them on this website, https://bedbugscenter.com.     Imaging if your were giving a presentation in front of your important client and all in the sudden you have this horrible itch that distract you from doing your job.  Well good luck and enjoy seeing watching these bugs starting to die off until they are disappeared.

[fuckingfuckingchickentown-blog]

How To Get Immediate Relief From Bed Bugs Problems

If you found yourself woken from a deep sleep in the middle of the night with an incredible itch and find there is a line of at least two insect bites, chances are that you have bed bugs sharing your bed and feeding off you while you are asleep.  For me, this is how it started and I thought it could be any insect or even spider bites and became a huge problem that robbed me hours of sleep and a hell of swells nights after nights for almost two years until I cracked the code.  I am sharing this from a personal experience of dealing with bed bugs infestation in my apartment for over a year.  I am by no means a scientist, nor am I an entomologist.   The experience, though, came from countless hours of research of what works and what not from a real life experiments.

There were nights I woke up from a deep sleep to vicious itches from bites of these hungry little devils.  After a few nights of deprived sleep, I became easily agitated and was extremely miserable.  I had a very hard time concentrating at work and felt very tired.  Luckily I had my own business; otherwise I would have been fired from constantly showing up late and not in the mood.  The swells were also embarrassing. My friend wouldn’t let me go near their home for fear of getting infested by the bugs.  The problem kept getting worst and I didn’t have the money to hire a professional terminator to come and heat up my entire apartment.

I tried very desperately to find out a way to stop this insanity but nothing seemed to work.  Trust me, those red dots are an understatement when it comes to having to be woken up in the middle of a deep sleep.  After months of research, I stumbled upon a one of the youtubers about how alcohol can kill bed bugs right on spot.  I had some live bed bugs to experiment and from then on, the recovery began.  So, this is what I found out and I want to share this very effective technique, so you can at least get some good sleep at nights.

PEST CONTROL SERVICES GENERALLY DON’T OFFER A PERMANENT SOLUTION AND CAN BE VERY EXPENSIVE AND TOXIC.  EVENTUALLY, THE BUGS COME BACK IF YOU DON’T HAVE A GOOD MAINTENANCE SYSTEM IN PLACE.

YOU CAN USE A VERY SIMPLE AND INEXPENSIVE PRODUCT TO KILL BED BUGS AS YOU FIND THEM OR AS SOON AS THEY ARE HATCHED OUT OF THEIR EGGS.

I WAS ABLE TO DEAL WITH THE PROBLEM AND WAS ABLE TO HAVE ITCH-FREE NIGHTS OF SLEEP AGAIN BY FOLLOWING THESE FEW SIMPLE STEPS WITHIN TWO WEEKS.

Before getting started, I must warn you that this is a temporary method that requires some patience but it will work over time and eventually get rid of those pesky bugs for good.  You just have to know what to look for and what to avoid and do to prevent them from colonizing your most personal space.  Be persistent and vigilant of any indications that there might be a bed bug invading your living space.  I didn’t have pets, so solutions might be different for those of you who do.  But by applying the same principles, you can also alleviate the problem by following these steps.

There are two types of bed bugs problems:

New arrivals:  Like me, most people are not aware of the problem until it becomes too late and the problem will be very difficult to solve.  But if you have just noticed the bites, chances are it’s a new problem and can be very easily fixed.  You just have to be sure the bites are from bed bugs and not a mosquito bite that will never follow you into your bedroom.

Identifying if it’s a bed bug bite:

If you see red swells in zigzag lines or small clusters or a straight row, chances are the bugs have invaded you. While these bugs don’t spread diseases to humans, the bites are extremely irritating and can lead to bleeding and infection from scratches.  And good luck if you are diabetic.

Once you identify and know for sure that the swells and itches are form bed bugs, here is what you do next

Find out where the bugs are. If they are in the area near the seam line of your garment, like at the edge of your shirt sleeves or the collar of your shirts, chances are that’s where the bugs hide or where they laid their eggs and when it’s hatched, hungry baby bugs rush out to feed on the closest exposed skin.  Another bug’s favorite hiding place in your closet is where the socks are because it provides the best accommodation to bugs and it can’t be seen.  But don’t despair because these can be very easily fixed.  Here is how:

99% RUBBING ALCOHOL IS YOUR BEST ALLY WHEN IT COMES TO FIGHTING THE BED BUG BATTLE.

Bed bugs usually lay their eggs after they are well fed, most likely right after they feed on you and you want to prevent that from happening as soon as you get bit.

I’d buy a ton of 99% rubbing alcohol and put them in a spray bottle near by.  I even bring it everywhere I travel with at least one or two bottles.  Once I notice the bites from one of these areas, I’d spray the alcohol all over the seam line on my clothes, especially around the collar where my big vein from the neck is exposed.  Spray on them until they are wet.   This usually kills the adult bed bugs on contact and will save you at least a day free of the bites.  Repeat this everyday before you put on your clothes.  What also pleasantly surprised was that my feet no longer smell like a dead rat from being in the shoes all day.  I can go to any house and confidently take my shoes or sneaker off without the host making funny face.  This alone will justify having 99% or at least 91% rubbing alcohol around for personal grooming purpose.  Cautionary note: it’s not recommended to light a cigarette or a match when you are waiting for the sprayed item to be dried.  You might end up killing the bugs but losing your favorite garment or even your house for good.

Once you are aware that you have the problem, then treating it is very easy.  If you think it’s from the place you just returned from a vacation, you then just spray the whole luggage, backpack, then put them in plastic bags where bed bugs can’t crawl out of it to your bedroom.  Bed bugs can’t travel on a smooth slick surface like plastic bag, nylon or a bottle.  It’s like making a deadly trap where they are waited to by massacred by the spraying of alcohol.  It’s quite satisfying to know that you have power over these bad guys for the first time.  But don’t do this on a person; you might get a punch in the face instead.  Repeat this process every time or even everyday before you put on your clothing and this will save you from the wrath of hungry newly hatched baby bugs.  I do it on my sock everyday just for the odor removal purpose and my feet never smell better.

WIN THE WAR AGAINST BED BUGS WITH A POWERFUL VACUUM CLEANER AND DIATOMACEOUS EARTH

everyday just for the odor removal purpose and my feet never smell better.

WIN THE WAR AGAINST Bed Bugs WITH A POWERFUL VACUUM CLEANER AND DIATOMACEOUS EARTH

I still remember how satisfying watching this little mo-fo suffocate and die and turned into a dried dead bug after 48 hours of exposure to diatomaceous earth.

WHAT IS DIATOMACEOUS EARTH?

Diatomaceous earth is made from the fossilized remains of tiny aquatic organisms called diatoms. Their skeletons are made from a natural substance called silica. Over a long period of time, diatoms have accumulated in the sediments of rivers, streams, lakes and oceans. Today, silica deposits are extracted from these areas.

The microscopic particles of diatomaceous earth are deadly for bedbugs. Particles attach themselves to the body of bed bugs and physically “scratch and dehydrate them to death!” Because they kill them mechanically, they cannot become immune as they do with so many chemicals today. Because it’s a mineral, once you’ve dropped it, it stays there and continues to work. You can sweep it away as you get rid of dead bed bugs, but the diatomaceous earth does not lose its energy over time.  It does not contain any pesticides or other dangerous compounds and it so safe it can be used to de-worming pets as well.

From my experiment (you can try this for your own satisfaction), bed bugs are dead after 48 hours after the exposure, so I figure I’d round them up where they cannot escape and die a slowly death within the bag of my vacuum cleaner.  This is where the power of your vacuum cleaner comes to play.

First I suck a good amount of the earth into the vacuum bag, then I let the fun begins by vacuuming the whole affected area over and over until I don’t see or am sure that all bugs are in the bags, especially around the bed area where bugs like to settle cause who wouldn’t want to live far away from work right?

Then I spray the earth as a barrier to keep the bugs from taking a tour to my next room by laying a line of the earth along the door.  It’s not a pleasant sight but I would trade that for a good night sleep for my kids any day.  You want to repeat this process at least twice a week in the beginning until you or your roommate or your kids don’t experience the nightmare of waking up in the middle of the night for a month, then you can go easy on the diatomaceous earth depends on how serious your problem is.

Bed bugs detect human by the carbon dioxide we breathe out and don’t have any sense of smell, taking a bath in cologne won’t deter them and the only way you can hide from them is to stop breathing or you can kill them.

CLEAN UP AND WASH YOUR BED SHEET AT LEAST THREE TIMES A WEEK!

The uninvited guests that refuse to leave:

I know parents will love this, except when they see their utility bills, but putting your clothing in a hot dryer can kill bed bugs and their eggs if they are exposed to the heat at least 90 minutes plus you get to sleep in a clean sheet like staying in a five star hotel three times a week.  What not to like?  And if you get a bite at nights, it means the bugs are somewhere in your mattress or close by.  If you have this problem, it could be that you already have an infestation problem.  I remember the horror when I saw my ex-roommate’s mattress filled with bed bugs drops, bloodstains and what you see on the Internet.  It’s true and it can happen to you very quickly, especially if you like to leave your room cluttered and a mess.  So, this is what I did and it worked at least the night of the treatment.

Wash the bed sheets, blanket, and pillowcases in hot temperature and put them in the dryer for at least 90 minutes. There are laundry detergents for bed bugs on the market now but I haven’t tried it.  I think it’s worth giving a try because if it works, then your battle is mostly won.

Vacuum the mattress and the area around the bed every night and make sure there is some diatomaceous earth in the vacuum bag, especially the cracks and seems along the wall. If you have a carpeted room, then it could be harder but it can be treated with patience and time.

If not sure, spray seams of the pillow, mattress and any fabric with rubbing alcohol near where you sleep thoroughly until they are wet. Wait until they are dry before you go to bed cause you don’t want to get high or drunk laying in 99% rubbing alcohol.

That’s how I completely got rid of the bugs within a month or so.  I then was able to have a good night sleep without any interference immediately after the bedding treatment at least for a few days when the bugs can return.

I hope this helps.  At least it gave me some immediate relief after sleepless nights to a point where I get paranoia every time I felt a tingling sensation in my body because I have such bad reaction to the bite and it was such a painful and itchy experience.  I wish there was something like this to help me through that period.

I’d go with the most powerful vacuum cleaner and the food grade diatomaceous eath if I can.  The rubbing alcohol is a must if you don’t want to have the bites on your body during the day when the baby bugs are hatched and hungry.

Let me know if it works.  I have also listed the products I used, or you can simply browse them on this website, https://bedbugscenter.com.     Imaging if your were giving a presentation in front of your important client and all in the sudden you have this horrible itch that distract you from doing your job.  Well good luck and enjoy seeing watching these bugs starting to die off until they are disappeared.