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sylvies-chen · 3 years

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Can you do 64 or 67 for brettsey please?

Prompt 64 can be found here!!

67. “If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

Matt should have seen this coming.

His mom's not exactly young. He doesn't know where she's been or how she's been doing these past few years, frankly. He's had no record of whether she's been staying healthy-- through no fault of his own, seeing as how his mom's always been less than reliable since getting out of prison. Hell, even before getting arrested she'd been letting him and Christie down in smaller ways.

So when he gets the call that Nancy Casey has passed away from a heart attack at the ripe age of 68, he thinks it's just one more way in which his mother has let him down; one more member of the Casey family carrying their overwhelming amount of secrets to the grave.

He should feel sad, he knows that, but all he feels is numbness and a slight annoyance at having to deal with the funeral and all her belongings.

Her belongings aren't actually all that numerous, he realizes soon enough, which he assumes is a perk of being so flakey. All he gets is a box of things. He doesn't know what things, exactly. He'd gone to her place, shoved everything he could find into a cardboard box without paying attention to any of it, and left before he had the change to boil over with rage at all the things she'd kept from him and Christie-- the apartment included.

He should book time off or something. Or maybe visit her grave. He hasn't been there since the funeral a week ago (at which he, Sylvie, and Christie had pretty much been the sole attendants), maybe it'd do him some good in theory. But right now, every normal way of grieving flies out the door for him. He feels himself reverting back to the Casey family tradition: internalizing your feelings and keeping them secret until the day you die. Literally. It's not fun, not pleasant, and certainly not healthy. But in some weird way, it feels like his own way of honouring his mother, so he doesn't fight it. He should, but he doesn't.

Until Sylvie notices, and manages to tear down his walls in one fowl, beautifully agonizing swoop.

She picks up on it pretty quickly. He drifts off a lot during shift, he looks even more serious than usual, and he refuses to talk about it all that much whenever she asks how he's feeling-- which isn't for lack of trying, but how the hell can he put every complex little emotion he's feeling into words? Doing that will take time.

She's over to the loft one night, petting gently at his hair with her legs sprawled across his lap as they mindlessly watch TV, when she notices the box of his mom's things collecting dust by the by the basketball machine. Stella and Severide are out and Sylvie knows he's not paying attention to what's on anyway, so she turns the TV off. It manages to get his attention and he looks to her, confused.

Her attention isn't on him though, only on the box. Its flaps are taped shut at the top, his mom's name in black sharpie fading slowly. "You still haven't opened the box of your mom’s stuff?"

"No," he admits.

“Matt…” she sighs, taking her legs off his lap to sit upright on the couch. “You’ve been retreating into yourself ever since your mom passed away. Please don’t shut me out. I’m here, you know that, right?”

“I do. But Sylvie, I’m fine,” he insists. “My mom knew exactly what she wanted in life once she got out of prison and I wasn’t exaclty a part of that. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her, I probably don’t know half of what’s in that box anyway. She hid her new life from me and Christie. She’s just next in a long line of people in my family who’ve taken their secrets to the grave, that’s all.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it then say so. Don’t lie and pretend to be fine when you clearly aren’t.”

Her tone is sympathetic but has a slight edge to it. She wants him to open up, he knows that. That’s, along with the surprising frustration in her eye, is enough to make Matt want to. So he tries.

“I want to,” he assures her. “But there’s nothing to say. She was gone before, and she’s gone now. It’s just more permanent now.”

“But don’t you think opening that box will give you some— I don’t know… closure?”

“I know it probably will, but I've been busy with contracting work and the firehouse has been busy and... I don't know, it just slipped my mind."

She gives him a look as if to say she doesn't buy it for a second, only it turns quickly into a look of sympathy. Because it always does. Sylvie, through thick and thin, good and bad, just always understands him. That goes both ways, which makes it even better, but it also means he knows exactly what she's thinking right now.

"What's keeping you from doing it now then?"

"Now?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his arm stretching out against the back edge of the couch and rubbing at her far shoulder. "Well for one, I'm having a relaxing night with you, and I'd rather not ruin that with memories of my less than reliable mother. And second, I just... I'm...."

Matt finds himself choking on his words, unable to admit to himself the one word he's looking for. He doesn’t know where this sudden seriousness comes from, this abrupt inability to keep things in. It’s like an old habit, and normally those die hard. Except Sylvie’s lifting a gentle hand to caress his face, is giving him that warm and comforting look, and he knows exactly why it’s hard.

It’s hard because it’s her. It’s Sylvie, and trying to internalize things around her at this point is pointless— even if he wanted to. And he doesn’t want to. He’s stripped of all his walls when he’s around her and honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Scared?” She finishes his sentence for him, giving him an expectant look.

He nods, because yes. Matt Casey, a firefighter who’s faced blazing fires and near-death experiences, is scared of opening a tiny little box. It takes a lot for him to admit that but he’s with her, which makes it ten times easier. “Yeah,” he confirms. “I know it sounds silly, but I can’t bring myself to look at all the things from her life that she left me and Christie out of. I’m scared I’ll look in there and realize just how much of a stranger she was to me— and of how much I miss her anyway.”

Sylvie exhales quietly, eyeing him achingly for a moment while she gnaws at her lip the way she only does when she’s thinking hard. Then, she gives his knee a comforting squeeze before standing up. He shifts on the couch, elbows moving to his knees as he scrunches his brow in a pensive and painful train of thought of his own. He thinks Sylvie is just getting a glass of water or a tissue or something else, honestly. But when he looks up from his brooding, he sees her over by the basketball machine, picking up the box and bringing it over.

“Here,” she says, placing it on the table in front of them and sitting back down in her spot next to him. Their legs press together, leaving no space between them on the couch.

“No,” he shakes his head as he responds. “No, I can’t do it.”

“You can,” Sylvie assures him. “We can do it. Together. You don’t have to go through any of this alone, Matt. So if you have to sit here for a minute before opening it, or ten minutes, or an hour even, then you can do that. I’ll be here the entire time.”

Her eyes twinkle kindly at him and Matt swears, in that moment, that he’s the luckiest man alive. Something about everything she just told him strikes him harder than usual, acting as a sharp and wonderful reminder that they’re meant for each other.

“I am so in love with you,” he utters softly.

Sylvie lets out a quiet giggle, moving to hold his hand and lace their fingers together. “I love you too.”

She presses a tender kiss to his cheek as he sucks in a sharp breath, his attention now turning to the box in front of them. The box looks back at him, almost as if challenging him. Only now, miraculously, it seems more manageable to him. It’s still scary, still carries a lot of emotional weight for Matt. But he feels Sylvie’s hand in his and it gives him the strength to do this.

He lets go of Sylvie’s hand for a moment to tear the flaps of the box open. His hand finds hers again as soon as its done, relying on her for more strength as he moves to peer inside the box.

His heart stops.

With his spare hand, he pulls out the first thing in the box, at the very top— the very thing that made his heart stop. Nothing else in the box matters now, he thinks. Because sitting there, in the palm of his hand, is a picture of him, Christie, and his mom. Nancy Casey sits in the center of the picture, with Matt and Christie at her sides. He remembers the day well; it was his fourteenth birthday, after all. There’s a cake in front of them in the picture to prove it. Matt doesn’t ever remember looking and feeling so young. Admittedly, he doesn’t remember being that happy around his family either. Normally, birthdays were sort of a mess for him, a constant struggle of battling with his father over how they should celebrate it that alwaus left Matt grumpy and hurt. But in the picture, his mom’s hand is tickling his side, as well as Christie’s, and the moment captures the exact moment that he and Christie reflexively lean into her chest from the laughter. His mom’s smile is bright and wide— something he rarely saw around his household.

They were happy once. They were a family, no matter how messed up everything got between them. Maybe Nancy Casey wasn’t such a stranger to him after all. That fact alone sends those million complicated little emotions swirling around in his chest.

Only this time, he doesn’t bury them. This time, they all come pouring out at once and the dam breaks. He doesn’t know when the tears started, but they flow now with a painful ease.

Sylvie lets go of his hand and pulls him in, holding onto him tight and close as his head rests on her chest. He feels tears of her own drip on the back of his head as she strokes his hair gently. He so rarely cries like this and yet now that he’s started— now that he has someone like Sylvie who lets him be vulnerable— he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop.

Only she tightens his grip on him, whispers soothing hushes and gentle reassurances that everything will be okay, and he knows that he’ll stop soon enough.

#y’all enough with the angsty hurt/comfort prompts PLEASEE my emotions can’t take it lol 😭#fanfic prompts #abby writes #prompt requests #abby.answers #brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

Captain Bucheon 03

Warnings: strong language

Word count: 5.9K

story masterlist masterlist

tags: @wooya1224 @to-all-the-stories-i-love @jennxx3 @realllllrica

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Third: Saving is Caring

“Lee Nari!”

Someone was shouting your name but you couldn't tell who exactly because the entire corridor you were residing on - the forsaken fifth floor, also the top floor of the building without an elevator - was flooded with girls. They were rushing to the opposite direction you were heading to, and you frowned deeply at anyone who made even the slightest brush against you - or your chest.

“Come to room number 501!” they shouted again.

“As if,” you scoffed to yourself and dodged one hand that was about to land on your breast.

“Aish, I was gonna try if they were actually real,” you heard the girl whine but her voice got quickly blocked out by exciting squeals.

Finally managing to land in your room, you basically kicked the door open, pissed, to find Yuyeon preparing in front of her make-up mirror. Her eyes were shining and she seemed way too happy.

“What the hell is happening out there?” you grumbled, slamming the door shut with your foot to isolate yourself from the annoying squeals. “It looks like a sect or something.” You dropped your bag in the corner and threw yourself on the bed, needing the relief in your tired muscles.

Running had been taking its toll on you the past weeks, let alone your job was tiring mentally, as well. There hadn't been any slip-ups or issues anymore like last time for which you were eternally thankful. That one time - yeah, you weren't sure you could deal with that again.

“You are coming toooo!” squealed Yuyeon as well and was fast to drop the blusher on her messy table before standing and jumping over to your bed, making you fly up on the mattress too.

You whined again and tried to kick her off your bed but she climbed over you and wiggled her eyebrows at you, a cheeky glint leaving an unease in your tummy.

“We-” she leaned into your ear, “are going to watch porn.”

You gasped and pushed her off of you, pink rising up to your cheeks. “What? Are you nuts? Why would you watch-”

“C'mon, Nari,” giggled Yuyeon, sitting up properly to let you sit up as well. Her shirt slid off her shoulder and her bra strap was showing which made you reach up to bring the shirt back to its original place. “I know you've already experienced it all but-”

This time, a horrified gasp left your mouth and you were fast to shut her up with a: “I haven't experienced those things at all!”

She frowned, pouting. “But you made out with Baekhyun and you said he touched you-”

Your head was starting to spin as you shook it so violently. “No, no, no, don't bring that up. He stopped when he found out I'm a virgin and it doesn't even matter!!”

“But Nari, he is a grown up male that knows eeeeeverything there is to know about, you know, sex, and he was hot and -”

“Yuyeon, please,” you begged, hiding your face behind your palms. You felt attacked at the memories of you and Baekhyun being all touchy. “It isn't that exciting,” you tried but you knew it was a terrible, terrible lie.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You don't have to come if you don't want to but it will be fun with all the girls. We can talk about boys and men and, I dunno, just enjoy.”

You pursed your lips, not so sure. A good rest was what you needed, NOT temptation. Let alone, you wouldn't be able to get Baekhyun out of your mind were you to watch stuff like that. When you were about to speak up, Yuyeon added:

“You know, ever since stuff happened, we didn't really go out like that anymore… I kind of miss fooling around with you and just going against the rules - although now we can't do it since we are old enough to be naughty, but despite that I just miss doing cheeky stuff with my bestie.”

It was heart-warming to see Yuyeon be honest with you. Even the fact that she mentioned Baekhyun was a step forward for neither of you mentioned him unless necessary. Yuyeon was tiptoeing around you for one year in order to give you time to get over the mess that the mentioned male did to you and then she grew accustomed to your indifference towards your surroundings. You didn't talk about it and she didn't want to pry too much, always listening to bits of your thoughts here and there.

Yuyeon didn't feel guilty for mentioning Baekhyun's name; if anything, she hoped that you got over it and wouldn't react to him too much. For her, of course, Baekhyun was still on the “hated people” side like Chul. But he was also your ex and you were talking about girl stuff. Exciting stuff. Mature stuff. Baekhyun's name had to be mentioned for he was the whole package in the past.

“I know, and I'm sorry about that,” you murmured, averting your gaze. Her knees were bent, her skin showing as her shorts had ridden up. “We should start getting back on the track, right?”

The corners of Yuyeon's lip lifted in a small, encouraging smile. “Yes. So how about starting with the porn?”

You laughed out loud, smacking her thigh loudly, making her wince. “Okay, okay, just because it's you!”

“No, it's 'cause you are super curious as well!” she said, sticking her tongue out at you. “How it's all done and stuff.” She was growing red in her face, but her blush looked pretty and made her even more youthful. It made you grin wider and you shook your head at her and also stuck your tongue out, playing the silly one.

“You talk too much! Go finish your make-up, you're friggin ugly,” you rolled your eyes in mock and climbed off your bed, ready to change into more comfortable clothes.

When her slap landed on your butt, you abruptly turned around, glaring at her but both of you eventually giggled. Yes, this will be the best way to get your mind off stuff and hopefully have a good girls' night.

The room 501 was crammed with girls and pink and magazines and make-up and perfumes and smartphones with instagrams open. They were all chatting excitedly while one of the girls, you presumed the person living in this room, was behind her laptop, searching the websites that already screamed porn.

Both you and Yuyeon plopped down on the bed, shimmying yourselves between two girls who immediately took you in, wanting to socialize. That part was a little painful on your side as you weren't looking for new friends; especially not the ones who kept commenting on your chest and choice of clothing.

“Isn't it hard to run for you?”

“Don't people stare a lot?”

“Has anyone touched without asking?”

“How do you buy your bras? Korea is full of A cups and B cups are already considered huge anyway!”

You sighed and ensured the very concerned girl that you were able to get the cup of your size just fine - though, only in a few shops that were designed for ladies that were more blessed. You definitely couldn't just walk into any shop of your liking.

“Okay, girls, it's about to start!” shouted one and smashed the space on her keyboard, starting the forsaken video.

Everyone went silent right away, almost waiting with bated breaths for what was about to go down.

With a small frown, you were focusing on the small story they were trying to fool you with, immediately presenting a beautiful woman with blue eyes, of course. The man, though, wasn't a catch at all - not for you, at least. Some girls' eyes sparkled at the sight of the main male character and the way he was tanned and incredibly muscly.

“He looks like he could crash her bones,” whispered eagerly Yuyeon into your ear while not tearing her eyes away from the screen.

You hummed; the more it went on the more distrubed you started to feel. It was all incredibly bizarre and their love story was faced paced.

Founding yourself zoning out and blocking out the scenes that quickly grew heated and, well, disturbing to you, you spotted a calendar of models on the desk. It wasn't too far and you grabbed it quickly, not wanting to be in the line of vision of other girls who were literally drooling while hiding their faces behind their hands at the rated scenes.

Taking the calendar, you listed through what seemed like an endless amount of sexy pictures of firefighters in Bucheon. Just as expected, they were either shirtless or pants-less or both. Thank God they had underwear. You didn’t deny it; they were so handsome it almost seemed questionable. What were they like in real life? Were they really as passionate about their work as it said on the calendar? And, more importantly, were they really as handsome as the pictures were portraying them to be?

You kept listing through the pages, sometimes stopping to read. When you spotted a familiar face though, you almost fainted. On it, the month of May, was none other than Baekhyun. A black leather jacket was on him, underneath he was shirtless with his dark blue ripped jeans low on his hips, red supreme underwear poking out to tease the eager eye. The way they were hugging his thighs had a strong effect on you. As he had his thumb (the one with the mole on it) causally hooked in the belt loop hole, it brought your attention to the thin, and what looked like very veiny, skin that disappeared in the underwear. He had lean muscle that wouldn’t intimidate a girl. In fact, it would affect her heavily. You noticed a few more moles on his abdomen, the ripped muscles making the skin on it exceptionally tight. Saliva collected in your mouth and you quickly swallowed, averting your gaze to the upper part of his face. His hair was styled like a rock star’s with a comma hanging over his forehead, his dark eyes glaring at the camera, charcoal black eyeliner making them seem deadly. His lips were parted ever so slightly, scarcely revealing his front teeth, and your gaze hooked on them just a little while longer than they should have. You remembered the moments he would bite them. When he would lick them. When he would smile with them; or kiss you with them. He looked stunningly hot and dangerous. You couldn’t believe you once had this man to yourself.

You had heart palpitations.

Slapping Yuyeon’s arm, you tried to get her attention. You needed to vent, otherwise you’d suffocate. Yuyeon was too preoccupied with the disturbing video playing which was why the girl sitting on your other side spoke up excitedly into your ear:

“Oh my god, that’s the captain of the police, Byun Baekhyun! My oldest brother went to the same school with him.” She stared at the picture. “He is so fucking hot.” She was basically salivating over the picture. With her words, you felt something move within you. What it was you weren’t sure, but you didn’t like it. It made your chest tighten up and your mood dampen. “There are many hot guys in that calendar but Baekhyun has his own charm. I’d go for him any minute.”

Not sparing any more time with the picture, you harshly turned over the page, revealing a mediocre looking police officer. He was very handsome, thanks to plastic surgery, but after seeing Baekhyun, all the males seemed dull and boring. Despite your wild thoughts, you muttered: “He’s okay, I guess.”

She nudged you with her elbow. “C‘mon, I can see the redness in your cheeks,” she giggled and just in that moment there was a loud moan coming from the laptop. You felt yourself burning up even more and you squirmed on the bed, warmth pooling in your belly. These feelings were so foreign to you.

“You’re friends with Oh Sehun, right?” She was adamant about talking to you. So you nodded in response. “Well, he is good friends with Baekhyun. Yeonhee, the one who lives in this room, got the calendar from him. She likes Sehun but I feel like she has secondary intentions. If she could get Baekhyun she would not hesitate to go after him,” she giggled into your ear just when another moan resembled the room.

You sighed. “Sehun is a good guy, you know?” you muttered to her and looked at her huge eyes, the way they seemed dilated. “I hope you can tell her not to toy with him.” You looked back down, now a doctor on the cover. A doctor?! “Or else she will deal with me and that won’t be nice.”

The girl went silent. Maybe you came off as rude but you didn’t have many friends; nor were you looking for more. So if someone played with someone that belonged to you, they could rest assured you wouldn’t let it slip. “Do you perhaps know Baekhyun?”

And there it went again. Silently, you cursed your luck. This man seemed to be everywhere you went and mentioned by anyone you talked to recently. You never realized just what power Baekhyun had over this city. Realizing you probably took more time to answer, you quickly shrugged your shoulders. “Just a little bit. He is quite older than us so I doubt he has interest in us, kids.” It hurt to say, but you knew it was the closest to the truth. Baekhyun made the age difference between him and you crystal clear and even used it as a barrier between the two of you. Even though he wanted you, it was a crucial reason for him to stop moving forward with you. Or more like, he wanted to take things slow. You scoffed out loud.

“Well, I guess he just hasn't met the right one. The young ones are always better than the older ones. The older guys are just too afraid to admit it,” she told you and leaned further away, most probably wanting to end the conversation. She must have noticed your defensive, indifferent position and figured she wouldn't get a juicy talk with you.

That was fine by you. Because right now your head was so full of him; you couldn’t produce a single comprehensive sentence without giving yourself away. You so wished to meet him again and talk to him. You so wished things would have gone differently between the two of you.

There were now harsh pantings in the background and you groaned inwardly. You slapped Yuyeon’s thigh to finally get her attention. At the impact, she jumped up and glared at you. “I’m leaving,” you mouthed, not wanting to wait for her reply, but she stopped you abruptly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered in your ear, but the disturbing noises were blocking out each of her words.

You only managed to nod quickly before scooting off the bed and, while ignoring the curious stares of the other girls, you quickly made your way out, desperately searching for fresh air that would hopefully help you clear your foggy mind.

Once out in the corridor, you inhaled deeply, trying to shake off the feelings in your body. How could you become so easily affected by a simple picture? It was the stupid background noise, added your brain and you rolled your eyes. You needed to let out your frustration and even though it was hard to believe, you decided you would make good use of it.

You would go running. For the first time. By yourself.

When you reached the running track, the main headlights of the field were already turned off, throwing the space into a darkness lit up by surrounding street lamps. That was good enough, as you seeked some kind of hiding. Deciding to pour your frustrations into your challenge in jogging, you padded over to the running field, feeling the ground softer under your running shoes. There was a group of boys wrapping up a football game while a lone man, a student, was making laps, unbothered by the minimal lighting.Without paying anymore attention to your surroundings, you slowly increased your walking into a light jog, not wanting to strain yourself too much.

Your hair was flowing behind you in a high ponytail while the remnants of winter were biting into your skin, making your cheeks and nose red. You tried to focus on your breathing, wanting to make sure you wouldn't mess it up and therefore increase your stamina but it was fruitless as your mind immediately wandered off to the picture of Baekhyun in that calendar. It effectively quickened your heartbeat and you grew warm all over your body.

After two laps though, you became quickly tired and out of breath, your lungs on fire. There was an uncomfortable, sharp feeling in your side, the pain dull but making moving difficult nonetheless. The man who had been running the whole time without stopping didn't seem to break a single sweat the whole time.

“Oh, isn't that Lee?” you heard the boys talking to each other as they finally managed to clear up the field.

“The one with the boobs?”

You were fast to roll your eyes, angry tears burning up in your eyes at their careless words. Screw them all. Instead of staying on the field, you went inside the gym next to the field to get some water and try to calm down. Even though it was cold outside, a cold drink would hopefully help quieten the small rage inside of you. People like those were the ones you despised. They didn’t know anything about you and, naturally, you didn’t know anything about them. Yet, you were constantly under their scrutiny and sexualized in more than one way.

“Idiots,” you murmured to yourself, your skin heating up at the change of temperature once you entered the small building.

As you were filling up your bottle with the cold water, you heard the jerks entering the gym as well. They were laughing and joking amongst each other, their throaty laughs reaching your sensitive ears.

Cursing under your breath, you finished filling the bottle and turned to leave, just to stand face to face with all of them. They were grouped up on you, smirking.

Without sparing them another glance, you moved to walk around them but someone grabbed your arm, yanking you backwards, your back hitting the wall next to the water filter. It took you off guard and you managed to hit your head, too, and you scrunched up your face, hissing. “You piece of shit,” you spat angrily, your rage growing more when you noticed the dude’s hungry eyes on your chest.

“You surely are feisty! We heard so much from the seniors about you,” one of them spoke up, his eyes barely visible as they were shaped like slits, thin like pupils of a cat in broad daylight. “We all know you like to go against the rules.” A round of snickers resonated the otherwise empty space and you felt your heartbeat pick up in fear.

“Okay,” was your blunt answer and you once again wanted to step aside but the same jerk grabbed your arm, bringing you back. You gritted your teeth.

“You ain’t leaving just yet, little kitten,” he murmured darkly and this time, you felt like you wouldn’t be able to escape. “We won’t do anything bad. Just give us a little show of what you’re hiding underneath that hoodie of yours.”

If someone was living in your body right now, they’d know in an instant something terrible was happening, for your legs were shaking like a jelly, becoming one with the asphalt and therefore making you unable to move. Despite that, you scoffed, stubbornly insisting on showing your confident side. Those idiots wanted a reaction from you, but you wouldn’t give in. “Then turn on some porn. Though I’m not sure you’re ready to see that either with your tiny, premature, out-of-control dicks,” you said in a levelled voice, cutting each word off to emphasize the meaning so that their small brains would understand. “You ain’t shit,” you added when you saw some dudes growing red.

“You little bitch-“

There was an unexpected shadow that swooshed past and just in that second, too many things happened at the same time; a familiar scent hitting your nose; a sound of skin slapping skin reverberated the empty space followed by a groan. “She said to leave her, so respect a lady’s wish,” a low growl reached your ears and you almost fainted when you spotted short blonde hair and a handsome profile. Even from the side you could detect he was glaring, a stern gaze bringing out his authority and dominance that would make anyone quiver and render into submission. “Just a tip for the future if you want to get your dick wet,” added mockingly Baekhyun. He was staring down the group of young students for a little longer, surprisingly none of them making a fuss, before Baekhyun looked down at you, your shocked expression making your eyes much bigger than they usually were. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait as he started to walk ahead, only a couple of steps later looking behind his shoulder to double check whether you were following him or not.

Your legs had a mind on their own when they moved after Baekhyun, but your heart was beating crazily fast, the unexpected presence of the only male who was able to make you speechless and make you go crazy at the same time still stunning you. Why was he there? How did he know where you were? Oh, was it because you wished to meet him again? If so, then you wished all your wishes would become true this fast.

He led you outside of the gym, the annoyed voices of the boys barely reaching you now that they were out of ear shot. Cold air hit the dried sweat on your skin, making you shiver. Baekhyun stopped abruptly when he reached the track again and turned to look at you with an unreadable gaze. His heavy breathing was condensing into small puffs, his nose a little red. The chilly air biting his cheeks made his eyes water. You couldn’t stop staring at him and at the way he looked in that moment.

“You should-“

“Thank you,” you muttered at the same time as he spoke up.

Both of you went quiet right away and awkwardness creeped into the space between the two of you. Growing red, you averted your gaze, looking at the ground and hoping your wild heart beat would calm down.

“You should have been more careful,” he finally told you quietly, ignoring your word of gratefulness. There was a slight scolding undertone in his voice. “Those jerks are little kids who think with their dicks.”

You grew even more red at his words. Baekhyun must have heard their stupid request. Your throat restricted and your heart once again started to beat loudly. “I would have been okay,” you insisted. “But thank you anyway.” You meant it. You really did.

Baekhyun saw you averting your gaze again and he took the time to observe you. You were still too young, but he definitely noted the way your facial features matured, with each passing year turning you into more of a grown woman while leaving the teen girl behind. Your hair was long and it seemed you lost some weight in your cheeks. He couldn’t imagine how much of a hard time you were having the whole time he wasn't by your side. And then you had perverts following you around.

He cursed mentally, hating the simplest idea of anyone imaging you in a more mature way than you let on to a plain eye. Those bastards should have been thankful he didn’t actually use fists as he so wished. Because when they asked you to undress, he swore white spots of anger were blinding him, his emotions a wild hurricane of rage and hatred. The only thing moving him forward was to protect you even though you would have hated it.

“Just be careful next time,” he added gently, his features softening.

You looked up at him upon detecting the tone of his voice. “What are you even doing here?” Just then you took notice of his outfit and you recognized it. He was the person running when you arrived. He had been here the entire time, but you were swimming in sweet obliviousness. And just like that, the picture of him in the calendar popped up in your mind, making you avert your eyes right away. Heat pinked your cheeks which Baekhyun mistook for the coldness biting your cheeks.

“I come here to run,” he told you in a somber voice. “And we also work out here with Sehun so if you think I followed you here, you’re wrong.”

“I didn’t think you followed me here,” you retorted, wanting to roll your eyes.

“Well, on the contrary, I didn’t know you run too,” he said, a hint of tease present in his voice, though he didn’t smile. Showing his relief of you communicating with him could be a strategic bad step on his side.

You sighed at the mention of running and the reason behind it. “I’m doing a race at the festival so I have to practice. I’m not enjoying it and I’m not doing it out of my own will.”

“Then why would you do it if you don’t want to do it?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m in the student council,” you replied almost in a whine. “They asked me and I couldn’t say no!” You threw your arms around, making it sound like a big deal. And for you, it was a big deal. You didn’t like how you were easily pushed around.

Baekhyun nodded, a small smile stretching his lips when he saw your comprehension. Sweet university life. “You must be very liked by everyone.”

You froze at that. That wasn’t true. How would you tell your ex the reason everyone was all over you was because you had huge tits and you were friends with Chul? “It’s not like that…”

Baekhyun nodded, noting your discomfort but deciding against questioning it. He didn’t think he was anywhere near the position to stick his nose into your business. For all he knew, he’d scare you away like that time in the bar but, frankly, he didn’t even utter a single word that night to give you a reason for your abrupt fleeing.

“So you run here often, huh,” he heard you say and then saw you shuffling your feet, the small stones of the track field rustling under them.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied almost breathily. There was an upcoming question hanging in the air but he already forbade himself to hope.

You bit your lip harshly, bringing Baekhyun’s attention to the action. You were gnawing on it and you felt your body and mind betraying you. You were supposed to be mad at him. You despised this man standing in front of you so why was your heart beating frantically and, at his gentle tone, butterflies fluttering in your tummy? You felt warm just by his presence. He saved you. Yes, he didn’t even touch you, didn’t even take your hand like they do it in the movie. However, you witnessed the rage, the anger, the hatred, the need to fight but going against it so as not to cause problems. He cared about you, and he was still mature about it.

“Okay. Well, then, I guess I’ll see you around,” you muttered eventually, causing Baekhyun to deflate invisibly. An eager question cut through his mind: and when do you come to run here? I don’t like that you run here alone.

“Where do you stay? I’ll take you home,” he spoke up casually.

“I live in the dorms, it’s no biggie,” you shrugged just when the group of boys flooded out of the gym, spotting you and Baekhyun. They were noisy once again and immediately took advantage of the situation when they shouted:

“If it isn’t the love birds! We thought you’d be home and fucking her by now but guess who didn’t get their dick wet now?” They laughed in unison, finding their words funny and mocking.

You pulled a disgusted face, though you reddened in embarrassment at their words, and looked up at Baekhyun who was glaring at them again. “Come, I’ll walk you to your dorms,” he muttered so that only you could hear and this time, he took a hold of your hand, his skin soft and a little dry in your sweaty palm. You were shocked at how quickly your hand clasped around his.

Cat calls reached the both of you as the boys approached you. “Woohoo, they are about to do it-“

Baekhyun was fast. Before you realized the warmth of his hand leaving yours, you heard a loud snap, his fist landing with the dude’s face. You squealed, covering your mouth in shock and just like that, Baekhyun had professionally put the lad down, having both his arms locked behind his back. It vastly made you remember when he did a similar move with your brother in his office at the police station, and chills ran down your spine.

Right. Baekhyun first arrested you, and then your brother who was still in jail until now. Baekhyun lied to you to get closer to you. Right. Right, right, right.

“Don’t ever even imagine her in your filthy mind,” Baekhyun’s voice thundered through the space. It kept growing more distant as you realized the hasty steps you were making backwards before you turned around and started speed walking out of the field and towards the dorms. Angry tears blocked out your vision and you quickly tried to rub your eyes, annoyed that you always let your tough stance sway whenever he was around. He dared to be kind to you. He dared to be soft to you. He dared to-

“Nari! Wait!”

Baekhyun was jogging towards you and your breath hitched in your throat, hearing his fast approaching steps. “Nari!”

Sooner than later he caught your wrist and wanted to stop you but you surprised him. You were now far off the field, not a single soul around. Your palm landed on his cheek and Baekhyun’s face snapped to his right side. “I hate you!” You shouted shakily, more tears spilling down your cheeks, the snot out of your nose. You were a mess. “I hate everything you put me through, Byun Baekhyun! You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?! I loved you!” You shouted again, and squeezed your eyes shut.

Baekhyun slowly turned his head back, your slap still stinging on his cheek. His eyes were wide but he knew exactly what was happening. “C’mon. Don’t hold back. Let it out. Hit me again,” he encouraged in a low tone that made you frustrated even more.

You were breathing raggedly and pushed him in the chest, making him stumble backwards. He could have easily fought you, he could easily stand still, not budging under you, but he let you. He knew you needed this to finally let go of your suppressed feelings and, hopefully, of the heavy past he made you go through. “You fucking liar! You fooled me, played with me, made me dream of something beautiful just for you to crash it! You ruined my family! I hate you! I hate you so much! You make me go crazy with hatred!!!”

Another strong push. He was surprised at how strong you actually were; when emotions spoke, people could be either extremely vulnerable or extremely strong. You seemed to be the opposite, for speaking up about your emotions made you scarily strong. “I hate that you made an idiot out of me! You fooled me and I trusted you the whole time! You locked up my brother! You did it in front of my eyes!! As if I didn’t matter shit to you! You were so fast to let me go when you thought I’m the criminal! That was all my worth to you!” you hiccuped, more cries taking over you as the painful memories kept swimming in front of your eyes, making you relive the emotions, the scenes. Those memories were blinding you and Baekhyun just let you open the Pandora box. You were breaking down.

It hit you too, that you never talked about your feelings. You couldn’t talk for a long while after being in shock at the events, and then you became one with ignorance towards your own emotions.

You took a deep breath and pushed him again just for you to lose your strength that was fueled by deep anger. Baekhyun couldn’t even pretend to step back. Your palms were still, pressing against his sturdy chest but you couldn’t make him move anymore. You were crying now, your voice shaking and your eyes still squeezed shut. “What did I do to deserve this… when all I did was love you honestly, purely,” you wailed, your voice sounding almost like a wolf’s howl in the empty streets of the campus. “I was just seventeen…”

Baekhyun was quiet the whole time, emotions of guilt eating him away just like they had been for the past year. His own heart was in pain and he knew how hurt you were but seeing you like this made his heart split into two. You were a complete, utter mess.

You didn’t know how much time passed without any of you speaking. The only thing you grew to realize was that you were in a tight embrace, the arms of your ex-lover protectively around you as his palm was drawing soothing circles into your back. His breathing seemed much more steady compared to yours, his scent filling your senses with comfort and familiarity you had been looking for ever since you met him a year ago. Your nose was on fire from crying, skin harshly clashing with the cold night air, but Baekhyun's presence made everything seem bearable. Even if it was just for a few minutes that you could pretend all was okay.

Squirming a bit, you moved away from him and he was fast to drop his arms, not wanting to upset you more. Your hand came up to wipe the tears and snot away, not caring you probably looked very un-ladylike in front of your eternal crush. “Leave.” You told him and turned around, heading towards the direction of your dorms. Your head was pounding, making you groan gently at the discomfort.

“Nari, wait,” he tried, making a step after you with a reached out hand but you turned your head as you walked, dismissing him with a single glance.

“I don’t want to listen right now.”

><><><><><><

A/N: sorry it took me a while to update. I hope some people were waiting and looking forward to this chapter even though it took me time ❤️ let me know your thoughts please? ^^

#exowritersnet #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo #CB #mywritings

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wheres-sam · 4 years

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I binge-watched the spn anime because of the brain rot

It’s bad except for the parts that are good, and it’s pretty to look at. Here’s a comprehensive list of pros and cons. Spoilers ahead!

Pros:

- more psychic kid backstories: Max (Nightmare), Lily (Darkness Calling), Jake (Loser)

- more psychic Sam

- more Azazel

- basically if you want more about the psychic/demon kids, watch the anime

- more young Winchesters

- the monsters, the superhuman abilities, the fight scenes, it all looks really cool animated. (But PSA it’s violent. It doesn’t shy away from blood and gore.)

- Sam and Jessica backstory

- more of the brothers being cute and funny together

- Missouri isn’t forgotten

- includes some Japanese legends/mythology

- the impala looks great in every scene. They did Baby good

- the “Supernatural” intro title

- the outro sketches of the boys hanging out with Baby

- Episodes adapted from the original show are different, but I like some of the changes? It’d be boring if it was an exact retelling and the visual medium wasn’t utilized. (I know I said spoilers before, but this is when they get detailed. If you wanna skip over, I’ll tell you where they STOP.)

Nightmare goes more into the abuse Max has suffered. Instead of locking Sam in a closet, Max sends Sam through the floor and covers the hole by breaking his bed in half, and it’s extremely sexy how Sam shoves the 2 halves apart with his mind. Later on Dean puts bandaids on Sam and they talk about demons loudly in front of a fast food intercom.

In My Time of Dying highlights the guilt Sam feels over Dean. In both the og and the anime John verbally blames Sam for not shooting Azazel, but where in the og Sam goes right on arguing, in the anime he reels back for a moment like he was slapped. Dean’s spirit touches Sam’s shoulder, and Sam knows immediately that it’s Dean. He doesn’t even question it. Instead of “Are you here?” it’s “I know you’re with me. I can feel it.” And I love that. Dean figures out right away he’s dealing with a reaper, and the reaper takes on the appearance of Mary to convince Dean to move on to the afterlife. Instead of a Ouija board, Sam uses a laptop to talk to Dean, and the first word Dean types is “Sammy!” Dean is so fond of his little brother and Sam is so baby.

Rising Son is an anime only episode, but it draws inspiration from John’s journal. Dean has a proper breakdown over his dad’s death and the possibility of having to kill Sam. Ms. Lyle, Sam’s favorite teacher who turns out to be possessed, is explored. John takes Dean hunting, and in the journal Dean hesitates to shoot a buck, and little Sam shoots it thinking it was endangering Dean. In the anime, Dean’s cornered by a moose and Sam makes it explode with his mind and it’s so !!! How little Sam’s first words are, “I’m glad you’re okay. It didn’t hurt you?” The boys are covered in blood and guts and Dean’s like ��👄👁 “Why are you here? Did you do this?” And then Sam starts freaking out a little, the shock sets in. “I don’t know. I don’t know, honest.” And he’s staring at his hands, and I am a big fan of Sam showing superhuman signs as a kid. Like in the journal, Ms. Lyle tries to take Sam. She gives Sam the illusion of a choice to come with her or stay with Dean, and Sam chooses Dean. This ep is pretty much when John figures out Sam has demon blood. He kills another hunter that wants to kill Sam.

Crossroad is based on Crossroad Blues, and I love how the crossroads demon shows up. It’s hard to describe, but it’s so neat, like she’s walking underneath Dean in this mirror world, and then the mirror world takes over the regular world, so you really get this sense of otherworldly seclusion, existing outside of time.

What Is and Should Never Be shows Dean is a firefighter in his ‘Mary never died’ world, and Sam got to play soccer growing up like he wanted. The brothers hold each other after Dean is saved from the Djinn.

AHBL part 1. When Azazel shows Sam that he fed Sam his blood, Sam gags and slaps a hand over his mouth, and I like that reaction more than the live action. The psychic kids get to go more anime with their powers, and that’s a lot of fun. They don’t need weapons. Ava slams Sam into the brick side of a building and cuts him without touching him. Jake snaps Ava’s neck with one hand and then catches Sam in his arms. When Jake attacks Sam, there’s no gun or knife. He’s relying on his super strength, his fists. Sam throws his arms up to protect himself, and (accidentally?) pushes Jake back with his mind, and the collision creates a crater in the ground. Jake puts his fist through Sam’s chest to kill him. It’s brutal and it’s rad as fuck. These kids are terrifyingly powerful.

The Sam and Dean reunion before Sam is killed is not as emotional as the live action imo, but what the anime does intrigues me. Hurts in a different way. Because Sam is stunned after he uses telekinesis again, on Jake, and when he hears Dean behind him Sam freezes. He doesn’t look relieved to see Dean, but wary and weary. It’s Dean taking steps towards him, not the other way around, and it has to be because Sam doesn’t know if Dean saw him push Jake back. Sam doesn’t know how Dean’s going to respond to all this, to him, having powers that come from a demon, the demon, Azazel. Sam hasn’t had a chance to process anything. He’s scared. He’s tired. And the way the anime focuses on Sam’s eyes here. Gah. “Dean. Dean, I’m...” I’m sorry. I’m all right. I’m glad you’re okay. I’m a monster. There’s also this one shot between Sam and Azazel that sends me because of how anime it is.

AHBL part 2. I love how Sam brought back to life is animated, with all the color returning to his face and a light wind rustling his hair and his lips parting to indicate his soul returning to his body. Jake attacks Dean, and, a lot like how Sam activates telekinesis to save Dean from Max in Nightmare, Sam gets a burst of superhuman strength. He rips Jake’s arm off and tackles him to the ground and beats him to death, punches holes into his body, and it’s so savage and bloody and scary, and I love it. The Devil’s Gate opening looks so cool animated. Same goes for Dean shooting Azazel with the Colt.

Not to turn this into a meta post, but I also noticed how the last couple times Sam uses his powers they’re colored green-yellow, the same colors as Mary’s ghost when she reveals herself in the anime’s Home, and I don’t know if that’s intentional, but it’s neat how it draws a connection to Sam’s biological family instead of Azazel’s blood.

The Spirit of Vegas is like Bad Day at Black Rock, but Dean has all the bad luck instead, and it shows off the silly cartoony physics that make animation fun. The boys sleep outside and split a chunk of bread for dinner. Also this lil bit of Dean’s hair tied in a bow.

- (STOP) the brothers are pretty. I am not immune to animated Sam and Dean Winchester.

Cons:

- Jensen doesn’t voice Dean until the last 2 episodes

- The English dialogue is really bad sometimes. I wish I could’ve watched the sub, but I couldn’t figure out how to change the language

- Some character designs are really different from the live action, and maybe that’s petty, but if you’re gonna change the characters diversify them? Don’t just make them unrecognizable white people

- Missouri’s design as a stereotypical witch doctor is racist

- Gordon is replaced by some British guy named Jason?? Why

- There’s an LGBT character who is not accepted by her family and, while that bigotry is always shown to be negative and she dies the hero of the episode, she still dies ://

- In the English dub Lily’s gf is made into her roommate instead. Idk about the sub

- Bobby’s pretty much a totally different character

- Sam and Dean are OOC sometimes

- Dean’s hair usually looks darker than Sam’s and it drives me crazy

- The storytelling is, overall, not nearly as good as the live action

- The non-Japanese lore in some episodes makes no sense. Sometimes it’s just plain ridiculous?? Like there’s a giant robot made of cars and scrap metal controlled by a demon? ? I wish I was making this up

- Meg’s role is severely reduced

- No Harvelles or Roadhouse

- Shadows are overused, but maybe that’s because the og show is so dark?

- I don’t mind the art style. I like the aesthetic, but I wish it was a little more expressive. It doesn’t do Sam’s puppy eyes justice.

- AZAZEL’S SHADOW?? PROPORTIONS?? PEA SIZED HEAD

- Idk why they mashed season 1 and 2 together? The story feels rushed

- there’s not as much chemistry between Sam and Dean, but that’s a given without J2 on screen

- Nobody tells you!! That there’s scenes after the credits!! And some of them are important! Why are important scenes after the credits??

The anime would not be good on its own, without the heart and depth the live action brings, but it works as supplementary material you can cherry pick from. I would watch more if there were more episodes.

It hasn’t turned me off from wanting an spn anime. I’d like to see it continued or redone, with updated animation and better scripts. There’s a lot of potential in exploring more about the psychic kids and Sam’s powers, storylines that were cut short in the og show. Animation is a great medium for showing off the supernatural, getting creative and creepier with the designs, dramatic with the fight scenes, without having to worry about bad CGI. I don’t want a live action reboot, but I think a redone animated series could be a lot of fun! (As long as it’s not an excuse to make any romantic ships take over. SPN is a platonic love story, and I like it that way.)

If you made it to the end here and are interested in watching the spn anime, you can watch it for free on the CW Seed app! You can probably stream it elsewhere, but idk where!

#spn anime #supernatural #supernatural the anime #my detailed pros is pretty much me letting you know what episodes are worth watching #and why #its bad but I kind of like it #I like what they were going for. the potential it has #I like sam and there's lots of sam

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sunshinestrand-inactive · 4 years

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You’re The Only One I’ll Ever Know

For @letitialewiss - Kim, I am so blessed every day by your presence. You are so such a positive light. I am so lucky to be able to know you and that I get to call you my friend. I hope you know how truly wonderful you are. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUNFLOWER, I love you! 💛💛💛

Read on AO3

***

TK Strand was going to be the death of Carlos.

He knew that was to be the case on his very first day at UT Austin when he stumbled into his dorm room to find TK, in all his glory waiting for him. TK was all green eyes, messy brown hair and a shining smile; the type of boy that Carlos could see himself liking. But then TK just had to open his mouth and talk. TK had been a New York implant, bitter about being forced to move to Austin with his firefighting father and had not taken kindly to his roommate being a born and raised Austin native with a police officer father. That was all it took for the rivalry to be born. It was incredibly silly, petty even, Carlos was highly aware of that. But the two had slowly grown to dislike each other because of it.

Except that hadn’t been the truth, at least not in Carlos’ case. He had found himself growing quite fond of his roommate, despite their childish antics towards one another. He had found himself staring just a little too long at TK, or would feel himself getting the urge to lean him against the nearest wall and kiss him. But he had restrained that feeling, pushed it deep down within himself hoping one day that he would wake up and be gone forever.

He restrained that feeling now, his pencil twirling between his fingers as he stared across the library where TK sat, deep in conversation with his best friend Marjan. It was the last day of finals week and while everyone should have been studying, he knew for a fact that they were all talking about the parties that they were going to go after.

“You’re drooling, Reyes.”

Carlos startled, dropping his pencil and nearly falling off his chair as he snapped his gaze away from TK. He cleared his throat and looked up just as his own best friend Paul pulled out a chair to sit down next to him. He very well knew that he wasn’t in fact drooling but he couldn’t help but to bring a hand up and wipe at his mouth. Paul watched him, chuckling and shaking his head.

“You are nauseating.” Paul said as he opened his textbook. “Seriously, it has been two years, isn't this whole thing getting a little petty? If you like the dude, why don’t you just tell him?”

Carlos didn’t think that sounded like a good idea at all. “Because he’d probably laugh in my face and then reject me. I’m an Austin boy, remember? He doesn’t like Austin boys.”

“He doesn’t like Austin because he was forced to move here. That was two years ago. The boy has to be over it by now. Besides I highly doubt he’d laugh at you or reject you, if he does, he’s a complete and total idiot.”

“Awe, don’t talk about yourself like that, Paul.” Carlos felt as his body instantly tensed and heated up at the familiar voice drifting into their conversation. He slowly looked up as TK approached the table with Marjan close behind him.

“TK, how totally unpleasant it is to see you.” Paul quipped with an icy tone to his voice.

“Aren’t you just hilarious.” TK’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke and he pulled out a chair to sit down, close enough that Carlos could feel his breathing. “So boys, are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Are you going to be there?” Carlos asked, making the mistake of looking at him, nearly losing his breath at the sight of TK’s incredible green eyes staring back at him. When TK nodded, Carlos shook his head. “That’ll be a hard pass then, Strand.”

TK narrowed his eyes at him, but there was a slight hint of a smile on his lips. “What? Do you not like parties unless they are in a barn or something?”

“Oh wow, that’s a good one, New York.” Carlos said, unable to hold back an eye roll.

TK popped out his bottom lip into a pout and Carlos had to force himself to look away. What he would give to pull that lip between his teeth. “Aw, is that all you got? No comeback? I’m disappointed, you’re going soft. But don’t worry, I get it, you are too cool for the party.”

“If we agree to come to the stupid party, will you please leave?” Carlos asked.

TK pretended to think for a moment before shrugging. “Sure.”

“Then we’ll come.” Carlos confirmed earning a look of discontent from Paul. He then proceeded to shoo TK away with his hand. “Bye now.”

“I can’t believe how much of a joy it is to be around you, Reyes.” TK started as he stood up from his chair. “It’s no wonder you just have people flock towards you.”

Carlos opened his mouth but TK was already turning around and walking towards the exit before he could even get a word out. It took a moment before Paul broke the silence again.

“He is a menace, tell me again why it is you like him?”

“I don’t.” Carlos whispered, watching as TK completely disappeared from sight. He very well knew how fake he sounded with that statement.

“Why did you say that we would go to the party? I thought we were staying in and having a movie night tonight? Besides you hate parties.”

Carlos shrugged one shoulder. “I know but the dude just knows how to get under my skin and I am not about to let him win.”

“Petty.” Paul teased in a sing-song tone that made Carlos glare at him.

“Watch it, Strickland or you’ll be the next one to have a rivalry with me.” Carlos joked as they both stood up from the table, ready to take their final exam for the semester. Carlos just wished that he didn’t have to have TK on his brain at that moment.

“Seriously though, you should tell him.” Paul whispered as they walked alongside each other, towards the exit of the library.

“I’m telling you that I don’t like him. I barely feel anything for the guy.” He mumbled back. But he was lying, to Paul and to himself. But he hoped that the more he had said it, the more it would become the truth.

***

TK walked out of the exam room instantly getting met with a punch to the shoulder, light enough that it wasn’t meant to be malicious but hard enough to make a point. He rubbed at his arm as he turned to find Marjan with a smirk on her lips and arms across her chest.

“Um, ow?” TK said, unsure of what earned him such an attack. “What the heck was that for?”

Marjan didn’t say anything in return, just stared at him in silence.

“Marj? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She starts, the smirk growing. “I was just thinking back to this morning when my best friend TK Strand insisted that we stay in instead of going to - how did he describe it? - some dumb party. I’d like to know where he is because all I see is some lovesick dork who melts to the ground every time Carlos Reyes is in even the slightest vicinity to him.”

TK glared at her, rolling his eyes. “I’m not lovesick and even if I was, I can assure you it wouldn’t be over Carlos. In case you’ve forgotten, I don’t like him.”

Marjan huffs a laugh, shaking her head. “In case you’ve forgotten I’m the person that knows you better than you know yourself, TK. I know what you are like when you are deep for a boy and this, this is a whole new extreme.”

TK sighs, closing his eyes for a moment as he stopped walking. “Do you hate me?” He asks, turning towards her before opening up his eyes. She stared at him for a moment before she smiled, warm and kind.

“Nah. I’m just messing with you. I’m your best friend, what are we for if not to support you in your quest to get a date with your roommate who you have loved - I mean hated - for the past two years?”

TK shook his head, choosing to ignore the second half of her statement. “And that attitude is what makes you, Marjan Marwani, my favourite person ever. You know I love you, right?”

Her smile widened as they began to walk once again. “I do and I know I am.”

“And?” TK pushes.

She rolled her eyes fondly. “I love you too, TK.”

He develops a smile of his own, throwing an arm over her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“You do know that I am not going to ever stop teasing you though, right?”

TK sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah. I know.”

***

“I can’t believe you made me do this.” It was the second time Paul had said it since they left the dorm. They walked down the sidewalk towards the frat house that was undoubtedly having the party as loud music played through the open windows and people spilled out into the yard. Carlos could already feel claustrophobia setting in. “I would so rather be home right now.”

“It’ll be fine.” Carlos assured him as they walked up the front steps. “All we need to do is make an appearance to humour him and then we can leave and go watch our movie. An hour tops.”

“Okay, I’m holding you to that.”

They bumped their fists together as they walked through the threshold and into the house. Immediately, Carlos was reminded of why Paul was exactly right, he had never been a party person; even in high school. He always opted for doing literally anything else but he was eager to prove TK wrong, or impress him, he wasn’t really sure which one.

They weaved through the crowd of people that were mingling and dancing in the house where Carlos knew drinks would be. Once they had finally made it there, Carlos was finally able to breathe again. He reached to grab a bottle of water from the pile of drinks while Paul took one of the beers.

“You’re not going to drink?” Paul asked as he cracked the bottle open.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Someone has to get you home in one piece.”

Paul waved him off. “You worry too much.”

When they ventured from the kitchen after getting their drinks, they walked into the living room. As he glanced around, Carlos found TK standing amongst the crowd, his own bottle of water in his hand. Carlos tilted his head, watching TK as he talked and laughed with the people around him. In the two years that Carlos had known him, he had never seen TK take a single drink of anything alcoholic. He knew that there must have been a reason but he never asked, figuring that if it was something that TK wanted him to know, he would have told him.

Carlos broke his gaze away from TK, quickly throwing himself into a conversation with Paul as a distraction. It was only a few moments before that voice was interrupting them once again.

“Well, look who came after all. I really didn’t think you would.” TK’s voice was incredibly smug as he spoke and Carlos felt his heart skip in his chest as TK threw an arm around his shoulders.

“I’m not about to allow you to think you’ve got the upper hand or anything.” Carlos said, quickly stepping away from TK. “Don’t want you getting too confident in yourself.”

There was a mischievous twinkle in TKs eyes and he smirked. “Too late. I’m highly confident you won’t last more than an hour. Have fun.” And then he was turning back around and walking back to his friends.

“An hour, that’s all we need.” Carlos whispered, confirming what he had promised to Paul earlier. Although, he wasn’t sure if he was trying more to convince Paul with the statement or himself. But he knew that an hour is all he needed to take and then he could go home and pretend his feelings didn’t exist.

***

“Ready to go?”

Carlos looked up from where he was leant by the door as Paul approached him. He had texted him five minutes ago letting him know that it was time and that they could go home. “Yeah definitely, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Before they could move any further, Carlos heard loud yelling coming from one of the other rooms and the music seemed to suddenly stop. As he listened closer, he realised he recognised the voice. TK. He and Paul exchanged a look before they were both rushing into the next room to see what the commotion was about. They rounded the corner just in time to see TK throw a punch, his fist connecting with a guy’s face. The guy, who Carlos recognised as the host of the party Logan Kepner, stumbled backwards before he was throwing a punch of his own. Carlos winced as Logan’s fist made contact with TK’s cheek, throwing him sideways. He had lost count of how many punches were thrown after that and it wasn’t until TK pushed Logan against the wall that Carlos finally stepped forwards and grabbed TK’s arm mid-swing, pulling him backwards.

“TK! Stop!” Carlos yelled when TK tried to pull away from him before he finally stopped struggling, opting to simply glare at the guy. Carlos shook his head as he took in TK’s appearance. “Jesus, TK, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine.” TK snapped, pulling his arm away from Carlos’ grip before turning around and disappearing from the room. Carlos heard the front door slam to punctuate his exit. The party seemed to resume after that as if nothing had happened and Carlos felt someone walk up beside him. He turned to find Marjan.

“What was all that about?” He asked, hoping she would have an idea.

He frowned when she only shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea. One minute they were talking and he was fine and then the next he snapped.”

“You should go after him.” Paul said coming up onto his other side.

“But -”

“Carlos, don’t argue with me. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll just stick with Marjan. Now go.”

Carlos slowly nodded before he turned without another word, pushing himself through the crowd to follow TK out of the door.

***

Carlos had arrived back to their dorm room in record time to find TK standing at the freezer, digging around for what he could only assume was an ice pack of some sort.

“Congratulations, only you can get into a completely sober fight.” Carlos joked, hoping to break some of the tension. He didn’t understand why he felt the need. His and TK’s relationship was built on tension. Although he was sure that the tension he felt towards TK was much different than the form TK felt towards him. If he was lucky, maybe it wasn’t.

“Ha, you’re hilarious.” TK said before he closed the freezer door coming up with nothing. Carlos’ stomach turned with sickness at the sight of the blood dripping from TK’s nose and his split lip, along with the already colourful bruise over his left eye. Carlos watched as he jumped up to sit on the counter.

Carlos let out a deep breath and he silently walked over to the hallway cupboard to grab out a cloth before he made his way back into the kitchen, wetting it under the tap. When he got close to TK, the boy moved his face away from him.

“I don’t need your help.” TK whispered stubbornly.

“Quit being such a tough guy. I promise I won’t tell anyone you let your guard down.”

TK rolled his eyes but nodded and Carlos tapped his knee, stepping between his legs when he parted them. He then began dabbing lightly at the blood that was drying to TK’s pale skin.

“So what happened?” Carlos asked as he worked.

“What do you mean?” TK replied, his eyes closed.

“What did that guy say to make you snap? Something snippy about New York?”

“No. It was nothing.” TK whispered and Carlos couldn’t help but to notice that TK made no move to make a joke back to him and that worried him only slightly.

“Sure, I believe that. Seriously, TK, what was it?”

“He was just mouthing off.” TK said, wincing slightly as Carlos began to clean his nose.

“About what?” Carlos pushed.

“Nothing.”

“TK, come on, that was not -”

“It was about you, okay!” TK snapped, opening his eyes and looking at Carlos. “Are you happy?”

Carlos’ hand fell away from TK's face as he stared, wide eyed at his roommate. “Excuse me?”

TK sighed, looking down as he fumbled his fingers together. Carlos knew for a fact that it was something that he did when he was nervous. “He was saying shit about you and I couldn’t stand there and let him do that. You don’t deserve it.”

Carlos’ eyebrows furrowed. He was in a state of complete confusion at this point. “But TK, why would you defend me? You don’t even like me?”

TK snorted, rolling his eyes. “You actually think that I could dislike you, Carlos? I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Carlos couldn’t help the blush that ran up his neck and hit his cheeks. “But - you - I -” Carlos stumbled over his words before he shook his head, finally settling on “You like me?”

“Of course I like you, you dork. I’ve liked you ever since you stumbled through that door on the first day.” TK said, a smile on his bruised face. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

Carlos frowned. “But we’ve been at each other’s throats every day since.”

“And when we were at each other’s throats,” TK said, putting air quotes around the words. “Did you ever once hold any sort of anger or hatred? Even a little bit?”

Carlos didn’t even need to think about his answer. He knew his feelings. “No, not at all.”

“Exactly, me either. It was fun. But it makes me think that I’m not the only one that has been lying these past two years.” TK said, his voice lowering with the accusation.

Carlos couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and he needed to get away. Fast. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turned to move, desperate to hide himself away but he felt a gentle grip grab at his wrist, holding him in place. He was then forced to slowly turn and look back at TK.

“You think I don’t see the way you look at me? Because I do.” TK whispered, his voice so soft and light. “I tend to look at you the same way when you don’t realise it.”

Carlos could feel himself losing control of his emotions as tears found his eyes. “I don’t understand, why are you just telling me this now? If you’ve known for two years, why now?”

TK shrugged. “Because it just really hit me tonight after that ass tried to insult you. I felt something deep in my stomach and I’ve been feeling it for a while. But tonight it snapped in me and I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. Besides, like I said we were having fun, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Carlos slowly nodded before lowering his head, unable to look at TK anymore. He knew exactly what his roommate was talking about. He had that feeling since the first time he stared into TK’s eyes. “I understand that.”

Carlos felt gentle fingers on his jaw, travelling until they were underneath his chin to guide his face up so that he was staring into TK’s gaze once again. TK then leaned forwards until they were only a breath away from each other and Carlos became highly aware of his heart pounding in his chest.

“I’m sorry that I made you think I didn’t like you.” TK whispered, his breath hot against Carlos’ face. “I do. I really really like you, Carlos.”

Carlos nodded, their lips brushing together. “I really like you too.” He whispered back before he moved to close the small gap between the two of them.

When their lips met, Carlos felt TK wince slightly and he tried to pull away but TK shook his head, whispering “It’s okay, don’t stop” against his lips. Carlos was thankful for that because he thinks he would never want to stop this moment from happening. TK wrapped his arms around Carlos’ neck and Carlos wrapped his around TK’s waist, sliding him closer. Carlos had suddenly felt as though a fire had broken free in his chest, his entire body warming underneath TK’s lips. When TK moved to deepen the kiss, Carlos was happy to oblige, allowing TK in. It was as if every single piece of a puzzle had fallen together, like everything he could have ever dreamt of.

When air was beginning to be a problem, they broke their lips away from each other but they stayed close with TK setting his forehead against Carlos’. “Wow.” TK whispered, breathless.

“Yeah.” Carlos agreed, a smile on his face.

“If I had known that was what I was missing I would have kissed you a long time ago.”

Carlos chuckled. “Trust me, I wanted to so many times.”

“I can’t believe this has been what it was like for two years and neither of us had the balls to say anything to each other.” TK pointed out.

“You’ve got to admit kissing each other would put a dent into the bitter rivalry that we have established with one another.”

TK raised an eyebrow, pulling away slightly. “Bitter?”

“You were pretty bitter.”

“Says the guy that has called me ‘New York’ for the past two years.” TK said.

Carlos grinned, the bickering now seeming more hilarious to him and he moved to pull TK even closer to him so their bodies were pressed hard together.

TK’s smile faltered slightly, shrinking to a smaller, more serious one. “So, where do we go from here?” He asked, his fingers coming up to tangle themselves in Carlos’ curls.

Carlos swallowed hard, his throat growing dry. He knew the answer to the question but it was hard for him to even say it. This had been everything he felt over the past two years and he couldn’t believe he was standing here admitting it. This was something that he never thought he’d be doing. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice low in a whisper. “Well, I think the next step would be to ask you out on a date. But since I think we are beyond that point, I think it’d just be safe to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

TK didn’t answer, only leant forwards to bring their lips together again. This kiss only lasted a few seconds before they were pulling away. “I would like nothing more than to be your boyfriend, Carlos Reyes.”

Carlos’ smile grew, his nose scrunching up. “Can you believe that it took you getting into a fight to make us realise this?”

TK chuckled. “Well you always did say I was impulsive and reckless.”

“You do have an unimaginable talent of getting yourself into trouble.” Carlos teased. "And while I'm flattered that you wanted to defend me, maybe we should try keeping fist fights to a minimum."

“Deal.” TK agreed before, “Man, I can only imagine how Paul and Marjan are going to react. They are going to have a field day with this.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that tonight. Tonight it’s just you and I.”

TK let out an audible sigh, wrapping his legs around Carlos’ waist as Carlos pulled him off the counter. “I love the sound of that.”

“Me too.”

The conversation melted away as their lips locked once again. Carlos tightened his arms around TK’s body, suddenly never wanting to let him go. He could feel his world slowly beginning to disappear from beneath him and the only thing he was left with was TK. He allowed himself to let go, to get lost in TK’s entire being and allowed TK to do the same with him.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

***

#911 lone star #tarlos #userkimmy #userjilly #officerrxyes #usermaximus #brilliantbanshee #ronenrubinstein #starlightbuck #paige writes

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sanktnikolais · 4 years

Text

What Keeps You Up At Night

A/N: one last writing before I disappear for quite a long time. Or idk maybe i’ll be back again soon, but it’s burnt out season these days. No more will to write and live HAHAKLDHFS so have this mess of neighbors au, and i might still write more of this in this au, maybe not just too soon. ;-;

Happy Halloween, ig.

Word count: 2151

AO3

The first time Zoya had finally talked properly with her noisy, infuriating neighbor without them arguing was in the middle of the night.

The endless readings for her upcoming case had taken a toll on her for the past few days, and the sleep she got was not enough to make her last the next day without verbally murdering someone in the firm. Tonight was no different, but she decided to go to bed earlier, as the noises from next door were starting to get louder again, and she was tired of going over and trying to knock his door down. They had been arguing off every little mistake they could pinpoint and use it against each other.

When Zoya had moved in the apartment complex more two weeks ago, only the ones from across and by the end of the hall came to greet her, while the one next to hers was silent the whole time, and the rest of the day.

A firefighter, the other floor tenants had said, so he was gone most of the day.

She would've appreciated it at some point, if only if he didn't make so much noise at nights whenever he was back. It was during the third night that she finally had enough rage to stomp over the adjacent door and knock, only to end up with the firefighter arguing back that she, too, was too noisy every morning.

Those arguments only got frequent for the two weeks, until they got a notice from the landlord to settle things down otherwise they’d get evicted. They had both ‘compromised’ with each other’s time schedule, but it really just involved them glaring at each other and arguing very quietly. Though their interactions had gone much calmer in the past few days, there was still no denying about the bad blood between them.

Now Zoya was just about to retreat back to her bedroom when there was a loud scratching on her front door. It wasn't the type that one would suddenly hear but was gone after a moment. Instead it was continuous and hurried, as if someone or something was trying to get in.

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing the time on her phone. 1:03. What the hell could it be at this time of the night?

The scratching continued as Zoya slowly approached the front door, her heart starting to hammer in her chest. She wasn't the type to believe in the supernatural, but who's to say it was impossible?

She stopped in front of the door, and then the scratching stopped. Coldness seemed to wash over her, the suddenness of the feeling making her shiver. Whatever it was may have left already, most likely a stray rat or something. But the sound was too loud for something as small as a rat. What if it was—

Zoya stopped her thoughts with a dark chuckle, feeling silly for even thinking about the impossible, though there was still no denying the slight fear in her chest. With a shake of her head, she took a deep breath and peeked through the peephole on her door.

There wasn't anyone outside.

She scoffed. Maybe the lack of sleep for the past week had made her imagination and hearing tacky.

"Being scared of mere sounds now, huh, Nazyalensky?" she mumbled to herself, stepping away from the door.

Only to stop when another sound came from the other side. A soft cry.

By this time, her fear was replaced by annoyance, and Zoya just turned the lights on, grabbed at the knob, and opened the door.

As expected, there wasn't any soul outside. Even the hall was dim and quiet—except for the occasional ones coming from the infuriating firefighter's slightly open door—when she turned to look in both directions, the small light by the end made it possible to see. Otherwise, the floor was empty.

She eyed the next door with a frown, shaking her head. Was he so confident to leave it open during this time of the night?

Then a thought came to her head. If she ever caught Lantsov trying to play a prank on her in the middle of the night, she would definitely not hesitate to strangle him on the spot. She shook her head, feeling annoyed with both herself and whatever it was that made the scratching sound. It surely wasted her time to check when she was supposed to be dozing off already.

She stepped back, ready to close the door, when she felt something brush past her ankle.

It was enough for a yelp to erupt from her mouth and jump, almost crashing over to her door.

Zoya quickly recovered and whirled around, expecting to see something scary, probably a ghost that had finally decided to become visible to her or anything supernatural that she's read and watched far too many times.

What she didn't expect was an adorable fluff of golden fur poised down on the floor as if it were trying to get her to play.

She gaped at the dog, turning back to the hall and expecting its owner to come over to get him. But no one came.

A soft whine made her turn back to the dog. It was now sitting up, head inclined to the side with a curious look on its face. If this was some other time, Zoya knew she would've melted on the sight. But now there was only confusion and bewilderment in her mind.

The dog couldn't be any older than several months. It was still a bit small to be an adult Retriever, but definitely not a puppy anymore.

She crouched down in level with it, and the dog immediately got up to run towards her. It only took a blink before it was jumping to her with an excited bark, and Zoya caught the dog mid-air.

The Retriever started attacking her with kisses, and the annoyance she was feeling just now disappeared completely. She laughed lightly when the dog's tail started to wag too vigorously as she stood up.

"Where did you come from?" Zoya asked, giving its head a ruffle. There was small ringings coming from the bell on its collar, and she turned the tag over. Sturmhond. "Storm dog, huh?" She leaned back to look at the golden fluff. It reached over to lick at her nose, causing a chuckle from her. "Who in the world would name you like that?"

There was a squeak of a door being opened. "Sturmhond?" a deep voice echoed in the hallway, followed by rushed footsteps. "Sturm—"

Zoya turned around to Lantsov stop by her door, already in his black shirt that had a printed Ravka Fire Protection on the upper left.

The firefighter’s stare at her lingered for a second too long before he was blinking and averting his eyes from her and to the bundle of golden fur in her arms. "Sturmhond!" His hazel eyes that had a deep look of worry before suddenly lit up when they landed on the dog.

The dog—Sturmhond—immediately squirmed off her arms and leaped over to him.

He caught him with a laugh. "Saints, there you are," he said in obvious relief. He gave the dog a ruffle on the head as Sturmhond bombarded his cheek with kisses. After a moment, he turned to her with a small wince. "I'm sorry about that, I only got him several days ago from the alley at the back and he's still trying to adjust—" He seemed to realize his own blabbing and he shook himself. “Yeah, I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

Zoya raised an eyebrow. Did he just apologize to her? “I think this is the first time I heard you apologize, Lantsov," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway. “You ought to close your door if you don’t want him escaping your place.”

The firefighter frowned. “It was closed, alright?”

Zoya raised a brow at him. “Oh, really, now?” she said. “How come he got to my door?”

“I don’t know,” he said, a tad bit too sharply, and he seemed to realize his tone. “Maybe I did leave the door open. My shifts have been longer these days, I really would tend to forget a lot."

She fought a smile on her lips as she took in this whole new character of her neighbor. He was so far from the one that she had been arguing for the past two weeks. “Is this character development? You are awfully different today.”

Lantsov only rolled his eyes as he adjusted the dog in his arms. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said sarcastically. Then he shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Taking care of this one probably did the trick.”

Zoya made a surprised huff. It was the first time they had talked without wanting to verbally murder one another, and it was a new thing to see. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Anyway, my shift starts in about ten minutes and it won’t end until lunch I think,” he said with an amused smile, “at least I don’t have to endure your loudness at eight in the morning.”

She erased her previous thought. Still the infuriating and idiotic neighbor. “For once, I thought you actually had some character development, Lantsov.”

Nikolai laughed, and Zoya felt the strange ease in the air that was never there before. “Only for you, dear,” he said. “Well, then. I have to go—”

He was cut off when Sturmhond suddenly jumped off from his arms and padded his way inside Zoya’s apartment, hiding behind her legs. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at the dog behind her. It seemed to have shrunk smaller as Sturmhond continued to hide.

“Sturmhond. Come on, buddy, I have to go,” he said gently, bracing his hands on his knees to crouch lower. He tried to call the dog once more, but Sturmhond didn’t budge. He sighed and stood up, checking his watch. “He’s still having issues with leaving. He thinks he’s going to get abandoned again.” Then he winced, closing his eyes as if he were in pain. “Can I, uh, ask for a favor?”

She narrowed her eyes, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. The night was definitely going on a weird turn. “Nikolai Lantsov is asking a favor from me?”

His wince only worsened. “I know, but it’s all because I forgot to call my friend that’s supposed to take Sturmhond tonight,” he said, rubbing at his face. He looked up after a moment, a defeated look on his face. “Can you watch over him?”

Zoya raised an eyebrow, and before she could reply, he quickly added, “I will pay for the dog sitting, don’t worry.” He looked past her and down to the dog hiding behind her. He had a worried crease between his brows, and for once, his usual smug expression was gone and replaced by a genuine emotion she never saw him have before. “He really looks like he doesn’t want to leave tonight.”

Her frown got deeper as she contemplated the firefighter’s request. He hadn’t been the most likeable person on their floor, at least for her, and she had every right to say no. But what she couldn’t understand was her lack of resistance over the favor and the sudden urge to help him.

She sighed. “Fine, I can watch over him,” she said even before she could think of changing her mind. Then with much more surety, she added, “I’m on a day off tomorrow, anyway.”

His eyes lit up like a child being allowed to play outside. “Really?”

“He seems behaved enough. And I’m sure he’s much quieter than you.”

To her surprise, Nikolai laughed, and her stomach did a weird flip at that. “He definitely is quieter than me. And he sleeps a lot too, would pass out anywhere he lays down.”

“My rate is not cheap, though.”

“I don’t mind.” He chuckled, the expression in his eyes was soft when he said, “Thank you.”

Zoya blinked, the direction of the night catching her completely off guard. It was only then that he looked much better with a smile on his face rather than the frown he always had every time they argue, and his eyes were definitely much warmer up close.

Lantsov was indeed quite a looker.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, covering them up with a glare on the blond. “Don’t thank me yet, I am planning to use this favor against you.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Of course, anything for you, Nazyalensky.”

Oh, she still hated him for having a sudden effect on her.

She’ll charge him off big time for dog sitting.

---

But when he came to pick the dog up much later in the afternoon, Zoya hadn’t charged him off with anything.

#zoyalai #king of scars #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #wow i am able to write again #idk man #firefighter nik with a dog #and lawyer zoya ig #it's really burnt out this time #hope i recover soon lmao #my writing #happy halloween #;-;

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musicnoots · 4 years

Text

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Carwood Lipton/Reader

Prompt “Did you hear that?” and “Stay here and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” requested by anon

Synopsis: He cares about more than you can ever imagine.

Tags: @not-john-watsons-blog @dumpofdumblings @majwinters @junojelli @curraheev @medievalfangirl @bandofmarvels @those-dusty-jump-wings @alienoresimagines @gottapenny @dustyjjumpwings @higgles123 @wexhappyxfew @inglourious-imagines @david-weepster

GIF Source

Curled up in a random foxhole you found while making your rounds with Eugene scrounging for supplies, you long for the moment you’re able to actually shut your eyes and drift off into slumber. You can’t recall the last time you’d actually slept through the night without running off to the call of a medic, no longer belonging to a foxhole and instead wandering from foxhole to foxhole making sure your boys were okay.

You’ll admit that things have been hard since the roads were cut and the airborne were surrounded in the Bois Jacques dead smack in the middle of winter—firefights and mortar attacks galore, not to mention that you’d run out of supplies faster than anyone would have ever thought. Your nights were spent waiting for the calls for a medic, days running in between companies seeking for medical supplies, dark rings donned the area under your eyes and you were beginning to look far from healthy as the temperature dropped below zero and the calls started to become more frequent.

“Doc.”

Your head snapped towards the direction of the voice, watching the figure approach you out of the dark.

“First Sergeant Lipton,” you greeted. You scooted to your right to make space for him, patting the dirt for him to sit.

“Last time I was here, I didn’t know I had a certain medic assigned to my foxhole,” he climbed in and settled right next to you, drawing his knees up to his chest. The moment you opened your mouth, he decided to save your apologies and wasted words for something that was worth your time. You already looked terrible to begin with, and the word spread that you weren’t sleeping in the weeks you’d been stranded in the woods. “Don’t apologize, Doc. I know.”

“Yeah.”

The night before, you had been holed up in a foxhole with Bill and Buck, wedged into the small space between them. Your lieutenant had tried to coerce you into sleeping, but the night ended with both of them being knocked out cold—Buck drooling on your shoulder and Bill fast asleep snuggled into your side until the call of a medic sent you running.

Of all the foxholes you’d taken residence in, you’d always find yourself being taken care of by the men who relied on you to make it home.

“You don’t have a blanket,” you lift your head to look up at him. He’s concerned for you, you can tell from the way his forehead creases and his lips drop into a frown.

“I know,” you said. “I gave mine to Toye. Trench foot.”

He gave a nod in understanding. “When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

You shrug. The last time you shut your eyes was in a foxhole with Chuck, who promised to get you a syrette of morphine if you slept for a good two hours. You’re still waiting on it. “I feel fine, Car.”

“I feel fine…” he muttered under his breath. “You’re good at hiding your exhaustion, Y/N. You do a lot for us. You, Eugene, and Spina. I can’t tell you how grateful we all are to have all three of you.”

You smiled in response to him. It’s not often your brothers showed gratitude, especially during these trying times. “We’ve been managing. Running low on supplies, and it’s been really tough for us.”

“Is that why I’ve been seeing you and Eugene taking turns running back and forth?” You nodded. “Thought you little boogers were playing tag. Tag, in the middle of a war! Who woulda thought?”

You smiled. “We’ve been looking for morphine and scissors...say, Lip, you don’t happen to have any? Got any syrettes? Sharp scissors?”

He laughed. “No, I don’t have any on me. Nice for trying, though.” There was a reason he wished you’d stop overworking yourself. Under all that tough skin, there was a real person who had made his Toccoa experience less miserable. Someone he’d confide in during his most stressful days, and someone who would share K rations with him on a regular basis—needless to say, Carwood missed when you weren’t working yourself to overexertion. In a way, you had become the person he was closest to in a world where nothing is fair.

“I want you to get some sleep tonight,” he said, all jokes aside. “Is there something bothering you that you can’t sleep?”

He hates seeing you so tired when you should be sleeping peacefully with the other medics. The last time he saw you well rested was back in Nuenen when you were playing with the stray kitties together.

You turned away from him, crossing your arms across your chest. “It’s nothing really.”

“Are you afraid of the dark?”

“What?” Afraid of the dark? That’s silly. “No, that’s...that’s stupid. I’ve been working in the dark for months now.”

“Then you should sleep, Y/N. Look, I know I’m not your mother, but you look dead on your feet and we can’t risk—“

“Did you hear that?”

You gripped onto your bag for dear life, eyes inspecting your surroundings for anything suspicious. The sound of bushes being brushed against had startled you shitless, and if you being severely sleep deprived was bad enough, something or someone potentially hiding out there was making matters worse and Carwood knew it.

He had his eyes looking frantically at the darkness around you, his hand instinctively grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him. “Hear what?”

“Sounded like someone walking through the bushes or something. It came from...over there,” you pointed to your right, and you were sure that it came from there.

Now, Carwood knows that there wasn’t a single thing rumbling against the bushes. If anything, it was probably one of those rodents searching for whatever food they could get their hands on, but you were adamant that there had been something to spook you. “Stay here and don’t move,” he climbed out of the foxhole. “I’ll be right back.”

You nod and watch as he disappears into the dark, out of sight from the comfort of a hole dug into the Earth.

In reality, he does step out to have a quick look. The last he wants is you getting hurt because he didn’t believe you. After five seconds, he comes back without anything too concerning. “There’s nothing out there,” he says, wrapping an arm around you to rub your shoulder in reassurance. “And even if there was, I'd go to hell to fight it off for you.”

You nod, grateful. “Thank you, Car.”

He mutters a quiet Yeah before letting you curl up against his side. Your head is on his shoulder, and he takes into account the blue-ish tint of your lips amidst the unhealthy color your skin had turned after days of constantly working. You needed to sleep.

“Get some rest, Y/N.”

“But—“

“I’ll wake you up in an hour. I promise,” you nod, feeling safer than you had ever felt in the months you’d been stuck in Europe.

You end up having the first real sleep since arriving at the Bois Jacques, and you deserve it. He doesn’t wake you up in an hour like he had promised earlier and instead he lets you sleep for the entire night, falling asleep right next to you knowing that he had done his best to look out for you.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #hbo war #easy company #carwood lipton #carwood lipton x reader

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paodequeijofeliz-blog · 4 years

Text

Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: none.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 (Finale)

Let me tell you a good story - Part 6

March 2nd, 2048

“So… When and how did you find out, exactly?” Drake cupped his own chin, intrigued. “I mean, you DO know that the woman beside you is Kamilah Sayeed, Ms. K. Sayeed of Ahmanet Financial, right?”

Anna’s snorted a laugh. “Yes, I actually DO know I married Ms. Kamilah Sayeed, although she isn’t a “Ms” anymore.”

“Jump to the part you realized it. It was a painful and funny scene to watch, all at once. And it wasn’t long after you two started making out, right?” Adrian’s hands are always resting in his pockets when he feels safe and relaxed. Especially around family. Right now, they had been there ever since he entered the house. There was no safer place to be.

“Four days after that. September 16th.” Kamilah gave a soft smile. She was damn good remembering dates. “Because on September 15th, I asked her to follow me to the Penthouse after work and share a drink. We had made great advancement on the research…”

“…and on other things…” Anna cofed.

“…that too…” The vampire relaxed back against the chair. “I think it’s your turn to talk. We’re all excited to hear this part from you, darling. Tell them how you found out the truth.”

The historian sighed.

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September 15th, 2018

That place was nothing remotely close to what Annie had pictured in her head. She knew Kamilah was rich, of course, the woman wore only Armani and Louis Vitton for days, but not that rich. It was so big, she was afraid to wonder off and get lost in there. They would need to call the firefighters to find her back. Maybe even set up some search teams, hire a few detectives…

“My goodness, you’re so dramatic. Stop stalling already.”

“You hush, wife. You had your time telling, now it’s mine.”

It was indeed a huge apartment. But it had nothing that could lead Anna into finding Kamilah’s last name. Not a document, a picture, a tag, anything. It was mostly fancy and elegant furniture carefully selected to match a refined set of Egyptian displayed objects. Everything there seemed to cost thirty times the historian’s pay check, so she kept her arms pretty tight to her body while walking slowly at a safe distance from anything that could be bumped into.

“Are you feeling well?” Kamilah arched an eyebrow from the beverage side cart where she was choosing a drink.

“Yes. I’m perfect.” Anna turned to walk in her direction but stopped after a few steps. There were too many fancy glasses and bottles on that cart.

“What do you usually drink?”

Her eyes scanned it from the distance. “Hm… Rum.”

Kamilah lifted her gaze, impressed. Since Anna’s face looked confident, she didn’t argue, putting a generous dose on a short glass. “With…?”

“Ice and peppermint.”

“Who would’ve thought…” the Egyptian handed her the drink, choosing for herself a highly alcoholic liquor with scents of cocoa and cinnamon.

“What?” Anna smiled, turning the glass and drinking half of it like it was some tasty light tea. “Were you expecting me to ask for something else? Something lighter or sweeter?”

“Maybe. Although, you are a woman of good tastes for coffee. I should’ve expected you to own good tastes for alcohol either.”

“Why, thank you. I also have a good taste for women.”

Kamilah gave her a malicious smile, leaning in enough to brush the lips on Anna’s. The kiss she placed there was a light one, just enough to speed her heartbeat. After a couple seconds, the Egyptian gently took Annie’s hand and guided her to the balcony, so they could talk beneath the moonlight. Ever since the first kiss at the office, it had been impossible to keep their hands off each other. In the past few days, the historian was always finding an excuse to go see Kamilah unexpectedly. She had the permission to do so even before the kiss, and now it was using it on her advantage, showing up in different hours so the Egyptian would be caught off guarded. That morning, it was Kamilah who flipped the game.

“Was I a good visitor today?” the CEO took their glasses once they were finished, leaving it on an iron table.

Anna narrowed her eyes. “Yes. You could’ve announced your presence before pinning me on the wall, though. I almost had a heart attack.”

Kamilah laughed, hugging her from behind and pressing Annie’s body against the balcony. They could see the entire city from there, but all the Egyptian’s eyes wanted was to admire the smooth curve of the neck where she started to kiss. “I like to keep you on the edge. You’ve been way naughty for my taste… I think I allowed you too much freedom around me.”

“Is that so? Do you prefer me to give you space?”

Kamilah’s grip around her waist tightened harshly, nails sinking. “No.” She turned the girl in a fast movement. Those brown eyes were glowing dangerously. “I do not wish any space to be put between us. What I want is for you to be a good girl and stop teasing me around.”

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“Now I have to skip a few parts…” Annie smiled at them, biting her knuckles to muffle a spicy laugh. “For my daughter’s sake.”

“Thank God.” Lysia agreed.

“My sake too, ma’am. No offense intended.” Drake lifted his hands, blushed.

“Non taken… So… Hm… In the next morning…” Anna’s voice was starting to get slower, loosing track while her accent seemed to strengthen.

Kamilah is a smart woman. And knows her wife too damn well. The vampire’s gaze was lingering at the ceiling, but her ears and perceptions were capturing every single movement Annie made while telling the story. The historian was already showing her regular signs of being too sleepy. Kamilah fought the idea of interrupting and taking her wife to bed. But then, her attention caught the adorable giggle Anna made while describing how beautiful Kamilah looked that morning years ago. She just couldn’t stop her wife’s fun. Ten more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

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September 16th, 2018

“Good morning.” Kamilah woke her by gently stroking the woman’s hair, trying to uncover her sleepy face. She found out two dozy big black eyes opening to meet hers. “It’s almost ten, already. Did I tire you this much?”

Annie denied it with a scoff, but her silly opened smile was there to unmask the truth. For a while, they just stayed there, breathing comfortably with their bodies still kind of tangled on each other. Kamilah kept caressing that wavy long hair, her face resting on the top of the historian’s head. She could smell vanilla on it, a sweet scent one day the Egyptian would know so well, it became part of her home. Mixed with it, there was Opium, Kamilah’s favourite parfum. Knowing she had touched Anna so much to the point of their scents getting mixed made the CEO smile. The idea of being all over the professor’s skin was too appealing.

“I need coffee.” Annie finally said something, although her voice sounded half asleep. Slowly, she turned to kiss Kamilah between her breasts, tracing a path that finished under her earlobe. “Let me make you some. Ok?”

The Egyptian loved the sweet way Anna would always ask “Ok?” after anything and everything, even though the answer for that question had only been “yes” so far. – “Of course. I’ll take a shower and meet you in the kitchen.”

Fifteen minutes later, the doorbell rang. Annie hesitated, a pan with boiling water on her hands. “Kamilah? Someone’s at your door…”.

No answer. Still uncertain, the girl went to look through the peephole, but there wasn’t anyone there. She slowly opened a crack to find two silver boxes wrapped with satin ribbon bows and a small note with “Ms. Sayeed” written on it.

“What are you doing?” Kamilah’s hand took the hot pan in a flash. “Don’t walk around with boiling water in your hands, you could’ve gotten in an accident.” Which was an extremely probable outcome, since she saw the historian dropping too many books and pens while working, besides constantly tripping on her own toes.

“Uh, sorry, I forgot I had it… The doorbell rang…” Anna��s eyes scanned the carpet, afraid she might have dripped the water somehow, but there was no stain.

“Bring it in, it’s our outfits.” With that, Kamilah head back to the kitchen to finish the coffee. It took a moment for Annie to follow her, as the woman was walking with extreme caution, like the boxes were made of crystal. “Relax, darling. Nothing in there is breakable. Leave it on the bed, please.”

“Why is there a note with Ms. Sayeed’s name? She gave you this?” her voice came from the distance, while Anna was taking the boxes to the bedroom.

Kamilah bitted her lower lip, pondering about telling or not the truth already. “Yes”, she finally said, deciding to let Anna find it out on her own, “It’s for tonight’s gala. She desires us to look elegant.”

“Hmmmm I love the smell of a fresh batch of morning coffee.” The historian was right back, jumping happily to sit at the table. The smell of coffee was killing her. “Why did she send both here? Wouldn’t it be easier to just mail Adrian’s to his house?”

For a moment, the Egyptian leaned her head, confused. “Oh” - she finally realized it, stopping on her tracks with the pot still on her hands. Kamilah cleaned her throat, suddenly uncomfortable. “Anna. The second box it’s not Adrian’s. I was, in fact, hoping you would accompany me to the gala tonight. Therefore, we received two dresses. In case you do decide to accept my invitation.”

She smiled. An adorable, sweet and still kind of sleepy smile. “Are you asking me to be your date tonight?”

Kamilah didn’t blush but dropped her gaze to focus on putting them coffee. “I’m terribly sorry for giving you such short notice. I’ll understand if you can’t make it.”

“I can. I want to.” She whispered, leaning in to steal a quick kiss from the Egyptian. Those brown eyes widened a little, a hint of surprise quickly supressed.

“Good. Then I hope you like the dress that… Ms. Sayeed… Chose.”

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“Come on!!!” Drake couldn’t take it any longer. “That’s not possible!”

“We’re getting there, I promise!” Anna covered her face. “It was at the gala. Or course it had to be in front of everybody.”

“You’ll love this part.” said the human girl, gently squeezing her fiancé’s hand.

“It was a very, hm… Interesting… Revelation.” Adrian confirmed with a wink. “Go on, Annie. Rip the band-aid off. It’s time.”

#kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #choices kamilah #bb kamilah #choices: bb #choices: stories you play #now the next part is the last one because I can't make Annie suffer anymore #and I'll post it today already? yeah probably

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ninabeyou · 5 years

Text

Jacksepticeye’s ego’s one shot

This is a one shot of @therealjacksepticeye. There is mentions of @gabsmolders/ Evelien. I don’t own Evelien or Seàn nor do I own one of his ego’s, but I do own my creativity. I hope you all like it.

Jackieboyman’s rescue mission.

Jackieboy was running. He had to escape. Run. Run. Run. Just left then right and then out of this god forsaken place.

“WhY rUn, JaCkIe? DoN’t FiGhT iT...”

Anti was getting closer. He had to get to the real world. Schneeplestein gave him one task: warn Seàn, before it’s too late. Before Anti wins. Anti laughed and cornered Jackieboyman.

“Hey!” Chase shouted and shot Anti.

Jackieboy got out and opened the portal to reality. Jackieboy superhero landed outside Seàn’s house. A car started honking and Jackieboy jumped to the roof. Close one. No one could know who he was.

“Heeeeelp!” He heard

He had to help. Jackieboy hesitated. Schneep specifically told him. Get out, get Seàn get back. Jackieboy looked to Seàn’s gaming room and left. One crime wouldn’t hurt him. Jackieboy quickly made his way over to a fire.

“My son is in there!”

Jackieboy jumped into the building and followed the cries for a mother. Jackieboy swiftly moved around, while firefighters were trying to get control over the situation. A small figure caught his attention.

“Hey there little one, I’m here to help you get to your mommy okay?”

The boy nodded and hugged Jackieboy. He had to be fast. He couldn’t fail this. Suddenly a gas exploded. Jackieboy protected the boy shielding it with his body. Jackieboy got out of the building and sat the boy down. He ran towards his mother. People of the news wanted an interview with the rescuer. Jackieboyman felt honoured, but this was not his pride.

“Yes I may have saved one life, but the police and firefighters are the real superhero’s of the day.”

“Are you watching over Brighton now?”

“Police are already doing that, Ma’am.”

Jackieboy jumped to the roof and disappeared on the roofs of Brighton, solving any crime in the night. He loved being a hero, but now the fun was over. He had to get back.

“Seàn, look at the news.” Evelien said, “Somebody is using your jackieboyman character.”

Seàn paused the image and took a closer look. A slight panic overtook him. That person looked exactly like himself.

“Seàn?” She asked.

“What if that’s my character?”

“Don’t be silly. You’ve had enough simulacra I think. He can’t just be you. There is only one of you and that’s enough.”

“You’re right.”

Jackieboyman was listening to the conversation. Seàn was right. This wasn’t possible, but it was at the same time. How was he suppose to tell that Anti wanted to be in control and murder everyone. We already retreated into his mind to save him. No this was the last shot. Seàn was the only one who could stop anti. Jackieboyman landed on the doorstep and rang the bell. Seàn opened the door and froze.

“You’re him, the superhero from tv.”

“I guess, but Seàn this is important you need to hear me out on this one. You’re in danger.” Jackieboy said and walked in.

“How can you know that?”

“I know you’re cynical, but it’s a matter of life and that. Anti wan-”

“Wait, Anti as my other persona, Antisepticeye?”

“Yes, keep up will ya? Anti want’s to kill the other ego’s and her.”

“He want’s Evelien? Why?”

“Schneep says she functions as your beacon of hope and all this blah blah blah about true love and Anti hates it. You’re the only one who can stop him.”

“You must be mistaken, this can’t be happening.”

“How do we know this is not a scam?”

“Evelien, dear, you’re very smart, but sit this one out Seàn and I are talking.”

“Don’t you dare talk that way she’s smart, she can help.”

“Fine, why don’t you just hand her to Anti? He wants her dead. She needs to be safe. If he finds her we lose.”

The tv started glitching.

“I aLrEaDy DiD tHaNkS tO yOu WaNtInG tO aCt LiKe A hEro.” AnTi was on the TV and climbed out.

“GO!” Jackieboy shouted.

BB hissed at him while the couple ran out onto the streets. Jackieboy made BB follow them and stood eye to eye with Anti.

“I can take you.”

“CaN yOu?”

“I won’t let you hurt them.”

“I dIdN’t HaVe To YoU aLrEaDy DiD.” Anti chuckled.

With that sentence Jackieboy heard Evelien scream and Seàn calling out her name.

“ThIs OnE iS oN YoU.”

Anti’s laugh pierced right through Jackieboy. Anti glitched into all the devices.

“Seàn?” Jackieboy shouted and ran out.

Seàn laid on the floor. He looked pale, even more than usual. Jackieboy felt guilty. He had to find them. It was up to him now.

“It’s going to be okay, I’ll protect you.”

“Find Evelien.” Seàn sighed and held his side.

“I can’t do this without you.”

“You can, you’re Jackieboyman. You are me.”

We looked all over the city for Evelien and the other ego’s. Eventually they found them. Jackieboyman sat Seàn against the wall and spied on them

“Anti, let me out.” Evelien tried.

“WhY wOuLd I dO tHaT?” Anti asked and glitched closer to her.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Chase shouted.

“AlWaYs RuInInG mY fUn!”

“That would be my job.” Jackieboy smirked.

“YoU dOn’T qUiT dO yOu!?”

“No because you’re hurting our Dutch Queen and my friends I won’t let you. Anti I’m sending you back to the darkest corner of his imagination.”

Anti laughed.

“YoU cAn’T gEt RiD oF mE!”

“Seàn can. I’m a part of Seàn so I can do it. I’m not afraid of you anti. You’re just a bad dream.”

The other ego’s broke free and formed a wall of Positivity to contain Anti. Everything went quiet. Anti was back in Seàn’s head. Probably plotting his next attack.

“Now for these two, Zey needs to forget, Jackieboy.”

“How? I don’t have a time stone.”

“Figure it out.”

Jackieboy brought them home. And tucked them in. Seàn passed out from the pain and Evelien fell asleep on the long way back. Jackieboy swapped the wound from anti to his side so Seàn wouldn’t notice. Evelien started to turn. With that jackieboyman flew out the window and hid.

“Are you okay?” Seàn asked.

“Yeah I just had a weird dream I think.”

“Yeah I had the strangest of dreams. Luckily it’s only a dream.”

“You’re right.” She smiled.

Seàn held her close and the couple went back to sleep.

“Be happy Seàn you deserve it.” Jackieboyman said and went back to his own reality.

He saved the day. No one knew about it but he did. this was his rescue mission.

#jacksepticeye #jackieboy man #gabsmolders #antisepticeye #septicart #oneshot #doctor schneeplestein #chase brody

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naferty · 6 years

Text

It was a close vote! Thank you, everyone, for helping me decide! For Halloween, here is Peter’s first Halloween for the Stroganoff au!

“Who’s the cutest little pumpkin that I have ever seen? Is it you? Is it?”

Peter blinked up at him with a gummy smile and legs kicking, making Tony’s heart melt.

“That’s right, it’s you! Yes, it is,” Tony cooed, unable to help himself. His pup was inside a pumpkin costume. The black spots making up the carved eyes and mouth on his fluffed middle and a mushroom cap on his head with a green stem sticking out on top. Perhaps Tony was being biased, but no one could deny his kid was the cutest tyke around. Whoever said otherwise can fight him on it.

And today he was going to show the world.

Peter’s first Halloween, and by default, his first ever little holiday. Tony had been looking forward to this, having picked out his pup’s costume the moment stores began stocking their shelves with candy and illegal amounts of orange. Steve might have thought him silly for it but the alpha was just as guilty as he was, planning the day down to the T weeks prior.

Leave it to Steve to make sure everything was absolutely safe for his mate and child on this night where ghosts and spooks and really inappropriate firefighters wander the streets freely.

“How are my favorite vampire and pumpkin doing?”

Speak of the alpha. Steve was standing by the doorway with his tattered costume dangling on his person and wolf ears sticking up on the top of his head. On his hands were fur-covered gloves and on the ripped patches of the costume fake fur was sprouting. The fond smile the alpha was giving them was made ridiculous with the sharp canines peeking through his lips.

Tony grinned to reveal his own. “They’re doing great and are ready to get this going.”

“Buck and Nat are ready and waiting and Happy just arrived. I’ll grab the bag and meet you at the door.”

Tony turned back to Peter. “You hear that? Uncle Bucky and aunt Nat are here. Let’s go see them.” Through his excited wiggling, Tony managed to lift his pup up and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before heading to the front door.

Standing near it he found Bucky and Nat waiting. The pair was wearing matching ballerina costumes that appeared straight out of the Russian Nutcracker with a little dash of Halloween. Bones were painted over the limbs of the fabric and Tony barked out a laugh when he noticed them both sporting dark makeup around their eyes, making them look like raccoons.

“Bucky do your makeup for you?” He asked her. He’d seen it before and wouldn’t be surprised if she fell victim to it as well.

She shrugged with a smirk. “I figured if we do a matching costume I better go all out. He doesn’t have a career in makeup, but at least he’s consistent.”

“Yeah, he has the raccoon eyes down. No doubt I’ll go to him if I’m ever in the mood for shadow eyes.”

“He’s also right here and can hear you both just fine,” Bucky said with a wave. “Hand over my nephew. At least he doesn’t judge me.”

“Not yet anyway,” Tony obliged, carefully passing Peter over and preening when both alphas ‘aww’ at the image Peter created. Work well done if he said so himself.

“You ready for your first Halloween, Pete? Going to steal all the hearts around?” Bucky bounced the pup a little.

“Pretty sure you’re not going to get him back at the end of the night,” Natasha commented as she made faces at the pup, who gave her his adorable gummy smile and wiggled his arms against Bucky’s chest.

Steve chose that moment to appear. The baby bag hanging on his shoulder. “We better damn well get him back at the end of the night. Heads will roll if not.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re head alpha. Intimidate and glare and growl. No one is taking him away, you punk,” Bucky was first out the door, followed closely by the rest. As stated, Happy was waiting for them, but surprisingly so was Jarvis. The elderly alpha had on his classic suit but for the festive spirit, he also wore a witch hat as well.

Tony had not been expecting to see the alpha for that night. “I thought you were going to spend the evening handing candy out to the kids.”

“I had planned to, yes,” Jarvis nodded, “but Master Rogers asked me here to help.”

“I also asked if you could stop calling me ‘Master Rogers’ but you continue to be stubborn about it.” Jarvis hadn’t even attempted to appear innocent, making Steve snort. “I thought maybe it’d be nice to have him help when Peter gets tired. Have fun with friends with no worries and Jarvis gets to spend time with the pup.”

“Which I will happily do so.”

“If you’re sure, Jarvis. I don’t want to ruin your night.” Tony hated being a nuisance to his old caregiver, especially when his old bones weren’t what they used to be.

“Nonsense.” The elderly alpha opened the door of the black limo for them, successfully taking half of Happy’s job for the night. Not one to be outdone, Happy offered the infant car seat to them as Tony and Natasha were first to pile in.

Peter was safely buckled in and the rest of them got comfortable in their seats with Jarvis taking passenger side up front and Happy driving. The ride to Rhodey and Carol’s place was short. The two-story building standing tall and proud with spider webbing and spooky ghosts floating on the walls and doors and pumpkins decorating the edges of the house. Tony had to admire the pair’s work as they walked up to the front door. Even little tombstones were set up to lead their way to the party.

A knock on the door and it was Rhodey who welcomed them. His costume consisting of white wrappings around his face, neck, and arms in a very poor attempt of a mummy.

“You didn’t even try!” Tony felt betrayed, nonetheless going for a hug.

“Hey, I had to plan and get everything for this party,” Rhodey happily returned it, “I wasn’t going to let Carol anywhere near the decorations. They’d go missing. Didn’t get enough time to search for a costume.”

“Fine. I guess I’ll let you off the hook.”

“And I’ll forgive you for being late to my party.”

“Fashionably late.”

“No difference. All of you get in here. Everyone’s been waiting to see the star of the night.”

Rhodey waved them inside, welcoming and offering drinks to Happy waiting inside the limo, who kindly declined. The driver bid a quick goodbye and told them he’d be around the neighborhood to pick them up later.

“Jarvis, good to see you,” Rhodey offered a hand.

“Likewise, Master Rhodes,” Jarvis kindly shook it. “Anywhere, in particular, you want me?”

“Besides over with the others and having fun hopefully?”

“The night is still young. We will see.”

“I’ll take it. Come on, this way.” Rhodey led them down inside to where a large majority was gathered. They turned the corner just in time to see Clint yank his head up from a basin full of water just outside the window and everyone clapping in joy for him. In his mouth was an apple that he was trying to grin around.

Rhodey chose the moment everyone’s laughter and clapping died down to announce their presence. “Guess who’s finally here!”

Everyone and their mother lifted a drink in a cheer for them.

“About time!” In much Van Dyne Fashion, Jan came barreling down, pushing anyone else trying to reach them first out of the way. Her sparkling fairy wings helping along by attacking them all with glitter. “I’ve been waiting forever to see this little guy again.”

“Jan you just saw him yesterday,” Tony said fondly. Peter blinked at them from his arms.

“Feels like forever.”

Carol soon joined them. Cat ears sticking up from her blonde hair. “Trying to keep him away from us? We know your tricks.”

“As if we could. Both of you will break the door down while Pepper called the repairmen at the same time.”

“Aww, aren’t you the cutest little pumpkin I ever did see,” Jan cooed at the pup, squeaking when Peter chose that moment to sneeze. Carol was not far in joining her in the cooing. In fact, once everyone made sure they weren’t holding drinks or their costumes didn’t have sharp points, they began migrating over to their area to fawn over the pup.

Among them was Clint with wet hair from his bobbing for apples adventure and a penguin onesie. Sam was wearing a similar onesie that was of a giraffe and, as if they had planned a trio, Bruce was also wearing a onesie and was a proud turtle among the spooks. Thor, with his golden mane and his nose painted dark, appeared very much of the cowardly lion and Jane stood next to him to as Dorothy. A sulking Loki was the tin man and had probably been nagged to join in the festivities by his brother and there hiding behind a sofa was Hank in all his glorious lack of costume self.

Somewhere in the corner was a brooding Nick Fury with Maria Hill. Both wearing wizard hats. An odd sight for bosses to create. They were probably coerced into coming by Carol, most likely. Tony’s own boss, Pepper, with her bright red outfit representing little red riding hood, was making her way along with the others. Tony’s dearest friend May and her husband Ben were with her and May looked ready to take anyone stopping her from reaching her goal down.

Together they all created a sea of smiles as they stampeded their way towards them. Plenty of smiles. A lot of smiles, and not a single one aimed at him or at Steve. No, they were all meant for one tiny person and Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.

He had to back up a little when they all gathered around him. A bit overwhelmed and fearing they might accidentally push him down. Steve’s steady hand on his back helped him remain steady. In his arms, Peter was bombarded with ‘hello’s’ and kisses and so much attention Tony was surprised the pup didn’t immediately get fussy from so much stimulation. In fact, Peter basked in it and seemed to happily suck up everything they gave him with little trouble. His arms and legs waving excitedly before freezing in place when a new face came forward only to continue all over again when they began making funny faces. All the while Tony preened as they complimented Peter’s appearance and looks.

He had to admit. He and Steve made a pretty cute kid.

“Get the feeling you won’t be getting your mate and pup back for a while,” Bucky said to Steve. In his hand was a drink he managed to snatch while everyone stampeded over.

“From the preening I see, I don’t think he minds it one bit,” Natasha said through the sip of her drink. “Showing them off, Steve?”

“Can’t a fella be proud?” Sometime during the mobbing, Steve ended up being pushed back, leaving Tony to fend for himself. Steve wasn’t worried. He knew their friends were careful and he trusted them. It was probably why he wasn’t growling for them all to get back.

Nat had to give it to him. “Guess he can. I’d be proud, too.”

“Come on, Punk. Bet I can still beat you at bobbing for apples,” Bucky challenged, chugging his drink down in one go before racing to the basin.

“As if!” Steve scoffed and chased after him.

#text post #long text post #naferty writes #a/b/o dynamics #stony #stevetony #some buckynat and winterwidow #omega tony stark #alpha steve rogers #past mpreg #small halloween ficlet #stroganoff au

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bluejaytaco · 6 years

Text

Superhero AU

It’s now known as The Failings of Project Millennium on AO3. This chapter is pretty much just a slight altering of parts one and two with a new scene at the beginning. I’m posting here because that’s just what I do.

[EXTRACTION COMPLETE]

The tank let out a loud beep as it shut down. The subject within slowly began to uncurl from his position as the liquid he was suspended in emptied into the bottom of the machine. It was still much too small for him to uncurl completely and, as he laid on the bottom of the tank, his feet and back hit the glass.

Mokuba stayed in a large observation room and watched his brother. Kaiba had insisted on being the one to awaken Horus. Neither of them could put it passed their adoptive father to keep a deranged psycho asleep in the basement. At least the older Kaiba had enough strength due to this “Project” that he could hold his own against someone.

The tank opened and Horus grunted tiredly as his body fell into a more relaxed position. The position didn't last long as everything connected and Horus ran on the only thing he had.

His last true memory and pure instinct.

As Kaiba moved closer to inspect the subject, Horus shot up and tried to grab hold of the other's face. He tried to fight him back but there were a few things different from the moment he was put in the tank to now.

He was larger with muscles too thin and too tired to do much. All he knew was this man in front of him could probably kill him and he would have to make it so that didn't happen. His fingers curled in the brown hair and he yanked.

Kaiba gritted his teeth and grabbed the other's wrist. He could feel the bone in his hand; delicate and fragile. The pathetic creature was in terrible shape; all skin and bones. He was completely starved; Horus would probably shatter if Kaiba made even the slightest wrong move.

But hair-pulling was not acceptable. He yanked the hand out of his hair and glared. The other hand slammed into his throat and his right eye glowed softly as something dark pooled in his palm.

Kaiba was suddenly on the other side of the room.

Horus tried to stand straight but his cramped body refused to uncurl far from his initial position. He stumbled as he took a few steps then opted to crawl instead as he eyed the other and rushed for the locked door. Unkempt nails scratched against it, splitting and cracking in the process.

Mokuba felt his heard tightened as a soft voice begged to be let out. The boy could only imagine what was running through the head of this mess of a being. Most likely death; He thought they were going to kill him.

Kaiba stood back up and rubbed at the burnt skin by his neck. He stepped closer to Horus.

Horus heard the footsteps and immediately pressed his back against the door. It didn't matter how calmly or slowly Kaiba approached, Horus was only thinking the worst. He scrambled to press himself even closer to the door. And as Kaiba moved within arm's length, Horus brought up a leg and slammed his foot into Kaiba's midsection.

Kaiba let out a cough as his hair was once again grabbed. He snarled and wrenched the hand away.

Horus began to panic when he reached with the other hand and Kaiba was able to pin both wrists in one hand. The subject pulled and thrashed to try and get away from his grip. "No no no no no no!"

“Stop!”

Horus flinched but complied.

“I'm helping you.”

“...Helping.” Horus looked between Kaiba's eyes. He relaxed slightly but his eyes never lost suspicion.

Kaiba let out a sigh through his nose. This was going to be a difficult process for everyone involved. "Yes. Let us help you." A lot happened while he was in stasis. It could take a while before Horus could be comfortable in the world. If ever.

But, by the way he stared at Kaiba, the other knew this needed to happen. Horus needed to be out of that tank more than anything. They would just have to figure out the consequences of it all as they tried to continue on with their lives.

Months later

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Yugi was just about to walk into the Kaiba Corp building to finally put an end to this silly rivalry. To finally say he’d had enough of the young CEO doing whatever he could to get his attention. He was sick of it and he wanted to simply move on with his life.

He had gotten into the elevator and jabbed the button for the top floor. As it went up, it played an annoyingly calm tune. But he wasn’t about to let it lull him. Not when he was about to tell off his…

The elevator stopped on the twenty-second floor and opened the door to a massive battle in the vast office space. Employees ran for cover; most of them ran to jam themselves into the elevator.

He dove out before he could be trampled or crushed in their panic. It wasn’t until the door closed that he realized what a moronic decision he just made. Because now he was stuck in a room with two superpowered people in costumes. One was in a deep violet cloak; his face covered by shadows. The other was… The Pharaoh.

He heard stories about The Pharaoh. He’s seen the man in pictures and phone recordings. He’d even seen him once at the very end of him saving someone from certain doom.

But he never got to see him up close. He never noticed in pictures how his golden mask was smooth of any features. Or how the hood just seemed to stay on his head as if by magic. He always thought the cape was a bad idea, what with it being easily grabbed and used to tug him back. But when the masked assailant tossed a knife that nearly sliced into him, he found himself grateful for its existence. There was so much gold. His movements were so beautiful.

He watched in fascination as more knives went flying at the Pharaoh. He danced around the blades and landed a few attacks of his own to the taller opponent. He heard a snarl from the other.

“Enough!” The voice of the villain was garbled and deep. It sounded corrupted. “Why can’t you just accept your fate, Pharaoh?! Why do you insist on making this so difficult?!”

The Pharaoh didn’t respond right away. He just stood up straighter and took a step towards the other man. “Malik-”

The villain screamed and held his head. “No! This ends now!” He grabbed for something in the cloak.

The Pharaoh sprinted away from the other masked person and towards Yugi.

The explosion was enough to shoot them out of the building and through the nearly shattered windows. If it wasn’t for the Pharaoh’s shield, they would both surely be dead. Instead, they were simply blasted out of the building and, by the way the masked hero held him, it seemed like it was part of the plan. He watched the other and found himself staring into the Pharaoh’s eyes. They were so concentrated on the ground below but Yugi could see a world of thought rushing through them. He was planning what to do next and how to do it. He was concerned about the state of the building and anyone who might still be inside. He was worried about the disappearance of Malik.

Yugi yelped and clung to Pharaoh when they landed abruptly on the sidewalk.

“Are you alright?”

He looked back to find the eyes on him. Those same eyes he’d been able to read only seconds ago became much more guarded. Yugi only saw concern for his well being.

And under the gaze, he could only nod and pray his knees wouldn’t buckle under him as the Pharaoh put him down.

The Pharaoh nodded back and smiled with his eyes. “Good. Now, go somewhere safe. Keep away from here.”

“…O-okay.” He watched the Pharaoh run back for the building. He wanted to thank him for saving him but the words stopped in his throat. He just stood there and wondered about the strange drawing connection he had to this hero he’s never met before today.

It was a long day and took quite a bit of time to evacuate the building before the people inside were hurt or killed. But it took quite a bit of thought to figure out a way to do so without revealing himself to the police and firefighters on the streets below.

Pharaoh managed to get away through the windows he and Malik broke through. He partially hoped it would help him figure out where the other went but the trail went cold almost immediately after getting back out. He could only call it a night before his ‘handlers’ decided it was time to try and reign him in.

He was exhausted by the time he got back to his home and climbed into his room. He sighed and took off his mask. The image of violet eyes burned into his mind. It was as if they could stare into his soul. He pulled down the hood.

The light to the room popped on. He didn’t turn to see who stood in the doorway. He just reached up to untie the tight ponytail that kept his hair from getting too unruly.

“Seto’s upset.”

The Pharaoh sighed and threw his head back. “Of course he is.” He turned to look at the young boy. “Where is he?”

“He’s in his office.” The boy frowned. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

He chuckled softly and walked for the door, ruffling the other’s hair as he walked passed. “It’s nothing that won’t heal within the hour, Mokuba.”

He didn’t look amused. He straightened out his hair before following after the once masked hero.

As he expected, Seto Kaiba leaned against his desk and glared at the large television he kept in the office. It was on a news station that reported on what happened at Kaiba Corp. He kept his arms crossed as he pretended not to see his visitors. They all just watched the fight recorded on a shaky phone camera. Whoever held it managed to catch a video of Malik throwing the Pharaoh through three different cubicles before he ran for the elevator with what looked like hundreds of other people.

Kaiba turned back and focused his glare on the hero. “Care to explain?”

The Pharaoh crossed his arms and looked at Kaiba coolly. “I told you I was going to begin my search for the others.”

The taller man growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Atem….”

“Malik has to know the way to Isis.”

“I told you to leave this alone. This isn’t some kind of family reunion you can pull out of nowhere. There’s a reason-”

“But what about Subject Anubis? And-”

“Anubis is dead! All of them are. The only surviving member of that project is you, Horus.”

Atem raised an eyebrow. “Really, Set? Are you sure?”

Kaiba tensed for a second before his eyes narrowed. “Never call me that.”

“I will call you whatever I damn well please.”

“Then I’m guessing you want to be back in the basement? Maybe sleep for another two or three years?”

The room was suddenly cold and silent. Mokuba looked between the two and sighed softly. He just wanted to have a normal day without the two of them fighting. Just once!

Atem decided to change tactics. He tapped on his pulse and blinked as a projection shot from his right eye and onto the wall. It showed the files for Subject Anubis and the being’s abilities. “I’ve been reading through the files. Out of all the 'subjects,’ Anubis was by far the most powerful and the most unstable. It doesn’t help that they were also one of the three stolen from your father’s labs. There’s no proof they’re dead.”

“There’s no proof of anything.” Kaiba leaned back and typed something onto his computer. “Mokuba, look away.” A second later, something blinked onto the projection from Atem’s eye. It was an older picture; A group of mutilated charred bodies. One of them looked like a child. “The power from Anubis was unstable, you said it yourself. So unstable, it could have easily killed the people who took it and then itself.”

Atem blinked out the projection. “There’s no saying that’s them.”

“You tried. Anubis is gone just like the others. Ra might still be around but, if that’s the case, he can just stay in hiding. Same with Kuk. Now move on.”

Atem stared at Kaiba. The CEO turned and walked around the desk to sit down at the computer. Alright, if he wanted him to move on so badly, so be it. “I met Yugi Mutou today.”

That caught his attention. He shot a look at Atem. “As 'The Pharaoh’ I hope.”

“Of course as 'The Pharaoh.’ You’ve made it perfectly clear I’m not allowed to take a step out of this house as Atem.” He leaned against the desk as Kaiba started typing. “If I have nothing to fear, and the project’s all but dissolved, why am I still in hiding?”

The typing stopped.

“I mean, he’s right.” Mokuba chimed in. “We already did everything to make him legal. No one would ask why our cousin decided to stay with us.”

“I’m not stopping you from leaving the house as Atem so long as you act like a regular human being.”

“Then I’m enrolling in college.”

“That’s what you want to do with your time? Your enhancements already teach you everything you’d want or need to know.”

“I don’t want to go for the academic part.”

Kaiba leaned back in his chair and growled. “Fine. Go waste your time at school trying to make friends.”

“I’ll do just that.”

“Great.”

The two glared at one another for a moment before Atem snapped away and strode out of the room. At the same time, Kaiba returned to his typing.

Mokuba sunk down into a chair and sighed tiredly. Maybe there would be less tension in the house now that Atem could leave on his own accord. He was pretty sure all this fighting between the two was going to be the death of him.

#ygo fanfiction #superhero au #atem #seto kaiba #mokuba kaiba #yugi mutou #malik ishtar #puzzleshipping #ygo #writings

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tateonnas-blog · 6 years

Text

Life with Dad

For Mental Health Week I thought it was only fitting to open up about my own life. I know I’m not the only person in this situation, but it’s not something that people talk about openly very often unless it’s to a best friend or someone you feel you can vent to without them giving you the sad puppy face or thinking you’re just a product of your environment. As a child and as an adult I always get the uneasy feeling that when people find out about my parents, they automatically think I might be a little out there, or I get the response, “Well I’m surprised you turned out this well”, or “Are you scared to have children?”, “Does that run in your family?” , “How violent is he?” I hate the stigma. I always say, ” I’m fine, they’re fine, we are all fine.” because after years of answering you realize its just more comfortable that way and who doesn’t prefer to stay in their comfort zone. Now anyone who knows me knows that that’s basically code for, “Please stop asking me questions.” This is something very personal and something that I have never written about before, but its a massive part of me. Both of my parents are mentally ill. It made for an interesting childhood and continues to keep me on my toes throughout adulthood to say the least.

Dad: I'm moving out

Me: Why

Dad: You hate me

Me: No I don't you are loved

Dad: Okay thank you I’ll stay

From early on the parent-child relationship was never standard. But then again, what is the standard for that type of thing? The thing about having a father like mine is that there’s a mandatory briefing to friends and family before they come over. A pre-explanation that even if he looks like he’s talking to you, Odds are there’s “someone else next to you” and if you respond, he can get upset. And that it’s okay to just hang out and not engage in conversation unless he directly addresses you. Sometimes It’s phone calls from the neighbors that my father is yelling to loud in the front yard while I’m at work, It can be phone calls from an Officer who explains that they’ve received a threatening letter directed to the Police Station. And it’s buying him new clothes for him to then add his own flair by cutting them up in his own, might I add (Very fashionable) way. I’ve seen him do some very creative things with a pair of jeans. And sometimes, It’s coming home and seeing him dancing in the front yard with his shirt off just laughing with his unseen company. Or giving a speech to his very own audience in the driveway. It’s hearing the front door open and close 5-6 times within the span of 10 minutes. Especially when he’s got a lot to say during his exits. It’s cleaning his room because he thought someone broke in and made a mess. It’s hugging him when he finally does let his guard down for a split second. It means really appreciating the happy moments with him, the moments of clarity. It means to do what I can to make him feel loved and safe at home.

Dad: Can I borrow ten dollars for cigarettes?

Me: Yes here ( hands over twenty dollars)

Dad: Ooohhh that's so nice, your so sweet. You remind me of my daughter

My father is my heart, and I will fight for him to the end; he can be kind and gentle, he can be hilarious and silly and there are times when he will dance around with me singing at the top of our lungs. He’s also incredibly smart with a college degree in Agriculture. Unfortunately, He was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic before I was born. It’s not a one size fits all disability. There are different behaviors and stages. The effects can be progressive and It’s a darkness that attacks each person differently. It stems from my father’s side and they say it skips a generation, but I never really knew my great-grandparents or any great aunts or uncles, I only have stories from my Grandma. “Mental illness was not something that was openly discussed in their time”, is what my grandmother told me. Somehow I understood, so I didn’t ask many questions. Schizophrenia had started to take hold of my father, as far as I know, before I was born. After my parents were married it progressed as schizophrenia does. He’d do random things like painting the apartment they lived in different colors and he would forget he was cooking or running water. He and my mother would argue a lot, but she could never understand what he was talking about because he was hallucinating and she, fighting her own demons, couldn’t handle it. It got really scary at one point. He attempted suicide by cutting the sides of his throat and wrists in the bathtub of his apartment. Thankfully my grandmother found him before it was too late. Once my grandparents saw how rapidly his illness was progressing, They made sure he got the help needed. With the right medication and amazing support system, He became stable and lived a good life with my grandparents.

Me: Good Morning

Dad: I hate you, go away.

Me: Love you

Dad: Love you too

Over the years, I can see him fading more and more into his alternate reality. It reminds me of the TV Show Flash. They have Earth one, two and three. Each one is a different version of everyone you know. So everyone and everything looks the same but personalities are all different. In each world, the events that take place are different, darker, and eviler. I feel like I’ve always been on Earth one and He fluctuates between Earth two and three. In each version of Earth, I being his daughter, am a different person. So when he does meet me back on Earth one he is usually still upset about what I did on earth two and three. He will look at me and say, “You look like her, but I know it’s not you. Why did you attack me at war? Why did you burn my house down? Why did you kill my family? You’re not my daughter! SHE’S DEAD!”. I’m not going to lie, it does hurt my feelings emotionally. But logically I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, and he’s upset because the other version of me killed the actual me, so he is mourning me. How can I be upset at that? It’s showing that he does love me. He just doesn’t know I am right here in front of him. I can’t argue with him and say no that didn’t happen. Because to him, that’s his reality. No matter what I say he won’t budge, and I have to be considerate and know his feelings are valid. So I take a step back and say, “it’s going to be okay”. Or sometimes say nothing and walk away. Unfortunately, dealing with mental illness doesn’t come with an instruction manual, so I find ways to avoid confrontation and try to keep him as mellow as possible. I feel bad. He’s trapped in this scary, sad, and violent alternate Earth, but I have no way of getting there to rescue him. I do what I can to help alleviate the stress. Making sure he always has the tools needed for drawing and painting. Some of the best times We’ve had have been our trips to Barnes and Noble to find his Favorite CD’s so that he can rush home and rock to his favorite Jams on his old school CD Player and smoke his tobacco pipe. It gives me just that little bit of peace seeing him find Joy in something and gives me a feeling that he’s going to be alright. I always try to remember back to a moment of clarity when he actually held a conversation. He looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘They are there, you just can’t see them”. I truly believed him and took it to heart. Who are we to judge and tell him what he sees isn’t real?

Me: Dad whens your birthday?

Dad: June. I’m one hundred and eighty-four years old.

Me: Well you look damn good!

Dad: I work out

Childhood with my father consisted of the two of us and his made up stories. Stories of the war and the many professions he has held. But as a child, I never knew that he wasn’t in the war and he wasn’t a policeman or a firefighter. I knew the stories were our bonding time. As time went by our bonding time became smoking. He always smoked cigarettes. To him having me smoke with him couldn’t make him happier. Whenever he was feeling like talking to me, he would bring his cigarettes and say, “Would you like to smoke with me?” I knew that was going to be the very few precious minutes of actually having the closest thing to a father-daughter conversation that I was going to get. I started smoking around fourteen, but it didn’t last long. I hated the taste and it just wasn’t for me. So after a few times, I would pretend to smoke just to hang out with him. He loved to cook for me. Now when I say cook, it means to make a bologna and potato chip sandwich with maple syrup and whip cream. It was always so thoughtful, and he put time and energy into making me, his daughter, a nice meal. So I would try to eat it but usually couldn’t get much of it down. And as much as it pains me to say, my cooking skills are a direct inheritance from him. His Specialty, however, the thing he would always make me as a kid that I loved, was Cinnamon Toast! He would get two pieces of bread, butter them, add cinnamon and sugar and then put it in the oven so it would all melt together and then give it to me with a big glass of milk. I was in heaven, and my daddy was awesome.

Me: Dad

Dad: Your an orphan I’m not your Dad

Me: okay

Dad: You were dropped off at my house, I don’t know you

I remember as a child having many conversations with him about death. He would always say when people die they become ghosts and then they get stuck. Or he would say all the people are being killed by shotguns or in the war everyone was cut to pieces. As a teenager with an impressionable mind, I would dwell on the advice of my father and continuously think about dying in that way and becoming a ghost. I always thought there were monsters under my bed and ghosts chasing me around at night. But I did feel safe with him; he was very gentle and kind. That’s the thing with paranoid schizophrenia, he might seem like he is aggressive or lashing out but in reality, he is just scared and trying to protect himself and his family. With my dad, his bark is always worse than his bite. He would say some scary stuff sometimes about the war and fighting. But, if he saw you say “No” loudly to our dog or cat, he would almost cry and go pet them and talk to them until they felt better. He never raised his voice at me growing up. He always paid child support and made sure to give me an allowance. Keep in mind this was from his disability check so what little he had he always shared with me and the rest of his family. He loved to get me little gifts which were always so thoughtful.

Me: Hi Dad

Dad: Who are you?

Me: Your daughter

Dad: She’s dead, they murdered her

All his paintings were always so calm and beautiful they would be of streams and the ocean and people relaxing. He would write letters to the governor telling them how to create world peace and to build cost-efficient homes and grow gardens to feed the homeless. There was always such a fine line between happy and sad with him. My heart would break for him when he would cry and I would just hug him and tell him he’s loved. I was too young to understand what was happening but I knew he just needed someone to talk to. He has never really had any friends since I was born. He always just hung out with the family mainly my grandparents when I was growing up. They would go gamble penny slots and take him to eat and he would be happy, briefly, but still happy.

Dad: Hi, you’re a nice girl

Me: Thanks

Dad: Thanks for letting me live here, my family is all dead

Me: Your okay, everything is ok

Dad: It hurts so bad…

As the years go by, the days get a little bumpier, the hallucinations get a little stronger, and the mood swings get a little quicker. But there are still moments of happiness, laughter and the light still periodically will sparkle in his eye. His trips to Earth two and three become more frequent but we take a deep breathe say a prayer and wait for the storm to pass. LIfe is finding the joy in every moment that you can, loving one another without conditions and loving this journey called life. If you know someone who struggles with mental illness take the time to send them a text or call remind them how much they matter and that they are loved. It really is the little things in life that matter most.

#mental health #mentalhealthawareness #schizophrenia #dad #life #daughter #hope

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queenofairandsnarkness · 7 years

Text

telling tales

(Or how Arya Stark got a rep in SHIELD.)

(Set in the same universe as Friends and Family Discount.)

one.

For a secret agency devoted to dealing with the weird and wondrous, SHIELD… did not have a lot of people with powers.

At least, not that Arya could tell. Lots of people didn’t like being obvious about it, though, so if they could keep it secret, more power to them.

But it also meant that a lot of people were going by, as far as she could tell, horror movies and D&D monster manuals.

It was just embarrassing.

“Why are we eliminating this guy?” she asked Roz Solomon, who was fairly reliable, if mad about environmental science. They were trying to track a vampire who was trading in illegal goods- mostly hybridized weapons, though there was suspicions about some old, magical artifacts that Mal Hightower wanted in her archives. They’d present an answer, and see if it matched with the actual field agents.

“He’s out in the sun,” Hot Pie said. He had a real name, but no one really remembered it. Maybe if he didn’t get dead in a few years, Dolorous Edd had said.

“Vampires can go out in the sun,” Arya said, trying not to sound annoyed. “He’s not new, and they just can’t shapeshift in the sun. He’s working with plants and transporting a lot of dirt through customs, it could be a good way for him to set up a network of safe houses to rest.”

They looked at her.

“Check him out,” Hot Pie said, finally. “How do you know this shit?”

Arya wondered if it would be silly to admit she wrote a term paper on Dracula.

Two.

“I hate everything.” Roz was binding up a weeping section of her arm. “I’m an environmentalist, not a firefighter!”

“I don’t think firefighters would be a good idea right now,” Edd said, with a sigh. “The gear would cut down on agility. Of course, without it, we have to deal with burns and claws.”

Arya peeked her head up, looking at what she really hoped weren’t miniaturized Balrogs. There were three of them, sniffing along the street and leaving the smell of burning asphalt in their wake.

Her brothers would be wildly jealous, if they ever heard about it. Which they couldn’t, but Arya could imagine their expressions. That wasn’t a bad thing.

She took a deep breath in, held it until the three were almost in a tight triangle, and then exhaled, thinking cold thoughts.

The thick layer of frost over them was satisfying, at least until it steamed and cracked off. Arya pulled her head back quickly.

“That was both the most amazing and most disappointing thing I’ve ever seen,” Hot Pie said. Roz stepped on his foot.

“They have solid spots now,” Roz pointed out. “Think you can focus it all in a line?”

Arya nodded. She’d practiced that in secret, since Mom was… a bit overprotective. For good reason, but Arya hadn’t actually told anyone she was going to apply for SHIELD for a reason.

She took in a deep breath and focused, launching a needle-thin lance of ice at the closest lava monster. Once it landed, right in the gut, she poured more in, thickening it.

It froze and shattered, right in two.

“Now, that better not leave us with four of them,” Edd said.

It didn’t, but Agent Morse and her liquid nitrogen were very much welcomed.

The fact that the Frozen jokes never ended? Not so much.

three.

Oh, god, Arya thought, trying not to snicker when she saw a familiar figure bent over a corpse.

Being fair, Rhaenys was a medical examiner, and the corpse was on a… was it a gurney or an autopsy table, Arya could never remember? She had her gloves and scrubs on, though, and looked up with an annoyed expression that always reminded Arya of a Hobbit deprived of dinner somehow and was uncannily similar to Jon whenever he was confronted with social demands.

(Look, Arya’s brain was weird. She got that. But Sansa and Bran had blinked and started cackling like lunatics when she’d told them, so clearly she was right.)

“Can I help you?” she asked, before noticing Arya. “Hello, squirt. How’s the family?”

“Mom and Dad are away on their anniversary,” Arya said, “and Sansa isn’t dating, plus Rickon hasn’t gotten in a fight in two weeks, so pretty quiet.”

Rhaenys smiled. Hot Pie gave a slightly strangled noise, and Arya snorted. Rhaenys clearly wasn’t interested in being polite. “Lyanna’s off in somewhere with snow, and Jon is dating, though he won’t say who. Aegon is… I’m not entirely sure, so I should probably be worried. Now, why are you visiting me at work?”

“There’s a dead man we’re interested in,” Arya admitted. “Beric Dondarrion?”

“Ah, him,” Rhaenys frowned. “Very strange. I think I read something in the Dragonstone library, but you can smell the smoke, right?”

Arya raised her eyebrows. “I put oil under my nose. I heard your stories.”

“Well, this one didn’t have a chance to rot,” Rhaenys said, before picking up a scalpel. “Which is peculiar.”

“Strange, even?” Arya liked the creepy wizard, who had saved Bran’s butt. But the puns. Also the betting pool. Agent Morse shot Arya a curious look, which meant she probably shouldn’t have mentioned it, but Rhaella Targaryen would probably be able to shield Rhae from, well, SHIELD.

Or cranky Nymeria Sand, who argued that no one was allowed to torment Rhae about her bad choices but family. Given the fact that Nymeria might have been better than the Black Widow with knives, and hiding knives, Arya really didn’t think anyone argued.

Rhaenys stuck out her tongue. “He’s not involved, munchkin. I think we’ve got a necromancer, though, so if I say run...?”

“Run like hell, making sure you come with me, so I don’t get dead or frogged,” Arya said, grinning. “Depending on who finds me first.”

“Be fair, Aegon would probably just make you think you are a Yorkie,” Rhaenys teased.

The debriefing, which involved a lot of “What the hell, why didn’t you mention your not-quite-cousin was kind of… an enchantress? Is that the term?” and Arya trying to explain that Rhae was not, as a whole, good with people, not getting to hide in her work, and hurting people.

Rhaenys might have gotten the good hot chocolate with the recruiter that came to her door anyway.

Four.

“So,” Hot Pie asked, and Arya bit back a groan. That expression meant nothing good. “Are you related to Iron Man?”

The man himself was at the other end of the lab, having a cranky discussion with someone Arya thought was Sarella Sand and Agent Hope. Which was alarming? Ish. Meh, probably a two on the alarm scale, really.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Arya said, without thinking. “The family tree gets… snarled a bit once you go like four generations back. Sansa’s better with that stuff.”

She pulled out a yo-yo and started doing simple tricks. They weren’t quite on babysitting duty, and she’d prefer braining someone with a heavy yo-yo to the headache of shooting the tech.

Of course that caught Tony Stark’s attention.

“Bored, short stuff?” he called over. He’d made a few offhand comments, which made him better than most of their guard duty jobs, but the nicknames were stupid.

“Depends,” Arya said, choosing not to comment on the fact that she was pretty sure he was wearing lifts, “are you going to make something explode?”

“Not yet,” Tony Stark said, grinning. “You’re the Elsa of the little agents, aren’t you?”

Arya grinned and thought about the fact that Sansa was probably taller than him in flats. Hell, he was probably not more than an inch taller than Rhae. “I can make it snow over your head, yeah.”

He didn’t believe her until she actually did it, which over course was when Dr. Banner and the Deputy Director came in.

She made the Hulk laugh! Which was great. Also, she was pretty sure Deputy Director Hill was smiling at the sight of Iron Man trying to get a sudden fall of snow out from under his collar.

Five.

She wasn’t even working.

She’d just agreed to babysit her tiny little nephew on her afternoon off, which she was regretting the moment she’d come into the apartment and Robb said she was a good sport and Mom was getting tired.

(Probably not actually tired, Arya guessed. More like Robb not being accurate about when he could pick up Rickard, since Jeyne’s shifts were kind of awful.)

Then the creepy mechanical spiders started attacking all down the street, and she had to pull out her phone, a toddler on her hip.

“Stark, aren’t you…” Agent Morse stopped at the sound of lasers. She was good that way, even if she was more than slightly crazy.

“At least a dozen mechanical spiders,” Arya said. “They have lasers, and one might have a machine gun turret. I could freeze that one, but I have a two year old with me.”

“The mouthiest Stark is in the city,” Bobbi said, finally. “I can probably get him, he’s good at quick. Barton, too.”

“Please,” Arya said. “My brother isn’t going to be happy.”

“Well, I don’t think they’re after you specifically,” Morse said, the sound of tapping in the background. “At least, not yet.”

“Seriously, freezing them?” Arya said. They were pretty close, but Arya didn’t think they could reach the third floor the apartment was in.

“Backup should be there within five minutes,” was Agent Morse’s non-answer.

Arya froze the one with a machine gun, causing sparks that were quickly smothered. The resulting iceball was about as big as the nearest car, and she went back to the kitchen, both for cover and because she needed aspirin.

The news didn’t know who froze the spider, and Iron Man and Hawkeye got the flashy stories, but even though it wasn’t her fault Robb had a mad scientist for a neighbor, she was pretty sure this was her last time babysitting.

#i write stuff #i should make up a name for this verse #gotfic

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satireknight · 7 years

Text

TMNT S01E04 - Hot Rodding Teenagers from Dimension X

AND... just like that, the titles started getting silly.

So the Turtles are planning to turn Baxter’s van into a mobile tracking station, using the equipment in Baxter’s lab. Is this legal? This doesn’t seem legal. I know technically they’re vigilantes, but this seems a little thefty.

So they do what anyone would do: they push the entire van up the stairs, and then Donatello rips the entire side of the van off like he was peeling an orange. Explain to me again why Michelangelo couldn’t get out of ropes in the last episode.

It also turns out that Baxter’s been arrested offscreen because “the authorities didn’t appreciate it when he tried to take over the city with his Mouser robots.” Well, that happens when you print your name on your murderous metallic T-rexes. Wait, take over the city? They didn’t do that! They just tried to kill Splinter and ate an apartment building!

Since Donatello is modifying an entire van all by himself while everyone else stands around chatting, he inevitably starts asking why THEY have to do ALL the work of stopping Shredder. I’d be asking why I have to do all the technical stuff, since presumably one of the others can work a wrench.

How has the Technodrome not completely hollowed out the area under New York, causing a catastrophic collapse?

Krang has finally had enough and is refusing to give Shredder any more new toys until Shredder ponies up a pair of opposable thumbs. Shredder acts high and mighty by saying that the body is just one of several experiments he’s doing... which includes more mutants.

I can see the benefits of a bat, since they presumably would have sonar or something like that. But why a lizard? Or a mole? How are those better than the ones you already have?

Shredder then remembers that oh yeah, Krang is from another dimension, and since that dimension is full of nonstop war, he can just get weapons from THAT place. Of course, since Krang also has an army sitting on the other side, he might end up with angry soldiers ripping his face off. Krang is somehow horrified by the idea of what might come through the portal.

In “Donatello is underappreciated” news, Donatello has just managed to whip up a personalized, highly-decorated, weaponized vehicle in mere hours. How do his bros respond to this? They want more shit like higher ceilings and pizza ovens so they can mess around while driving. Amazingly he doesn’t kill them all with his wrench set, and they careen down the stairs and straight into a fire hydrant.

Shredder is apparently expecting to just open the portal right into an armory, but instead two flying cars come zooming through. These are the Neutrinos.

And I don’t know if people will agree or not, but I’ve always hated the Neutrinos, the futuristic alien elf people, even when I was a little kid. Part of it was their voices; they always sounded like they had a sore throat. Another was the antiquated slang that they used, which... I never understood the reasons for and is kinda cringey.

But the most glaring reason for me was that they never felt like complete characters. Think about it: when you strip away the weird way they talk, what are you left with? Who are they? What shapes them as people? Answer: we don’t know, because they’re not really developed. They are all basically the same bland empty character. Kala is particularly bad, because her only narrative function is for Michelangelo to occasionally crush on her. She’s not a real character on her own.

Let’s just say I prefer the Neutrinos in the IDW comic, where they actually have some character and function instead of “we’re fun-loving teenagers and the grown-ups oppress us!”

sigh

So they’re chased by a pair of rock warriors in a flying tank, and that sounded so much more metal in my head.

Rocksteady and Bebop blow up the tank, and a firefight breaks out as the Neutrinos escape. The Rock soldiers encounter Krang, who is upset that they’re seeing him naked.... and by naked, I mean just a brain on a little wheelie stand. Apparently he “lost” his body when he was banished to Earth... although I’m not sure how or why.

And then the awkward writing kicks in: Krang and the warriors talk with horror about how the Neutrinos hate war, won’t fight, and “encourage people to have fun.” Perish the thought. Oh Lord, the heavy-handedness is making my brain hurt.

Oh hai World Trade Center. You’re making me feel awkward and a little depressed.

So the Neutrinos drive right out of a subway entrance, and the Turtles immediately start chasing them, ultimately leaping right into their cars and forcing them to land. But then they find out that the Neutrinos have no idea who Shredder is, and are just a group of shrill-voiced tiny elves who unironically use terms like “daddio.”

So the Turtles do what any person would do with alien visitors: they take ‘em to... an arcade. Why? I have no idea.

April sparks off a conversation about Dimension X, and another silly “all the grown-ups don’t want young kids like us to have fun!” conversation takes place. Look, is there any child with six brain cells who won’t feel pandered to by that sort of thing? Especially with idiotic ideas like them being chased because they trespassed on a battlefield.... um, getting onto a battlefield is its own punishment, because... you are going to die. Nobody’s going to stop fighting just to kill YOU.

Just then the Rock Warriors torpedo the building and put the scene out of my misery. By coincidence, all the humans in the building suddenly evaporate... so I’m going to assume they’re dead.

So the Neutrinos finally do something useful and start firing at the Rock Warriors, and Leonardo manages to wreck their vehicle with his amazing insta-growing sword.

That’s easily twelve feet long.

Just then the explosions, energy blasts and probable deaths of multiple people cause the police to show up. I wonder why.

Just then Leonardo mentions how weird it is that Shredder is able to connect to a different dimension.... NOW? YOU’RE GOING TO ASK THAT NOW? Shouldn’t you have asked that back before you were playing pinball and listening to the Neutrinos bitch about how mommy and daddy won’t let them zoom around in circles being obnoxious?

So yes, the Turtles finally break out of their “fun” brainfog and realize that they could be facing a global invasion, which is kind of important. It’s about time that tenuous plot finally reared its head.

“This is my Magic 8 Ball!”

No, it’s actually a weather-making device. And then they’re attacked by the NYPD, who must be really fucking jaded if they don’t react to a couple of guys apparently made out of rock.

The Neutrinos tell the Turtles and Splinter about Krang, which explains the whole talking brain thing that came up in the last episode. Wow, that might have been good information to get from them BEFORE YOU WENT TO A FUCKING ARCADE. Sorry, these characters really piss me off.

Oh, and Michelangelo is crushing in Kala. Why? Dunno, because they’ve barely interacted at ALL, so I’m going to assume it’s because she’s the only girl he’s ever encountered who isn’t way taller than him. Also, her only defining trait is that she cries.

Wait, since when did they have a hydraulic platform inside a phone booth?! How do you even instal that without people noticing?

So the Technodrome that they previously spent hours or days searching for is now something they can just drive up to, and they are able to fly those flying cars right inside with no resistance whatsoever. Of course, while Donatello is diddling with the portal, the mook squad comes in and causes trouble for them, while the other Turtles encounter Shredder, Krang and the Rock Warriors.

I have no idea why Krang is bouncing with joy. It seems premature.

Also the Technodrome has a giant floor section with vanishing panels. Why?

Finally the dimensional portal opens, which means the Neutrinos and their bad writing are going as well.

“There’s a barrel of silicone lubricant over there!” How did you know that? And why do I not want to know WHY it’s there?

“We want to stay with you, and have FUN!” Can you see why I hate this character with a passion?

The Neutrino with the gray hair says that they have to keep fighting Krang in Dimension X... which seems to go against two things we’ve been told. One is that Krang hasn’t been involved in the fighting since being banished, and the other is that the Neutrinos just mess around and don’t participate in any kind of conflict because it isn’t fuuuuuuuuuun.

So they zoom through the portal, and Michelangelo gets teary-eyed over the departure of someone he’s exchanged maybe ten words with over the span of a single day. I care sooooo much right now.

But unfortunately the weather-maker is still causing sufficiently bad weather that the ground is actually shaking. Right now there’s a friggin’ tornado in the streets.Leonardo handles it the way you’d expect - he leaps out of a flying car and almost dies so he can slice the thing in half.

And having pussed out epicly during the fight, Shredder finally throws a fit and declares that he’ll make Krang’s new body for him if Krang kills the Turtles.

And back in the Turtles’ lair, for some reason they’re back to sleeping in a quadruple bunk, while April reads them the same children’s story over and over again.

VERDICT:

This story is a big step down from the previous three, partly because it feels so schizophrenic. Parts of it, like that bedtime-story ending and the Neutrinos whining, feel incredibly juvenile and pandering to the child audience. But the other half is an actual threat of alien invasion and a dangerous weapon.

And the two don’t mesh very well, which often makes it feel like the important plot is being sidelined for kiddie antics. It really just sticks out, especially since the characters we’ve been shown are not really the kind to respond to serious new developments by just kicking back in an arcade.

I already ranted about the Neutrinos and what shallow half-characters they are, but I gotta say again, they don’t really add much of anything to the story beyond a shallow insta-crush, infodumpage and some aerial action scenes.

One thing that was much better in this episode is the animation, which has stepped back up from the last episode. And it has some nice moments like the police and military taking on the Rock Warriors, which gave us some good conflict and a sense that the world outside is bigger than just the Turtles and their issues.

Speaking of their issues, despite my bitching it was kinda fun to see the origins of their van, even if poor Donatello remains horribly underappreciated. He’s the kind of guy who could build a particle accelerator out of toaster parts, and people would complain because it doesn’t have an embedded clock.

Grade: C-

#tmnt #tmnt 1987 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #satireknight #donatello #michelangelo #raphael #leonardo

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ariel-herman · 5 years

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Frost Methane is targeting arctic methane release to avert climate catastrophism.

It’s a sunny morning in Alameda, California. Olya Irzak and Ethan Caleff carry the white octagon draped with seaweed over their heads, up the path towards the USS Hornet Naval Museum. The prototype is a white tarp bound to a PVC octagonal frame, and the seaweed is from their initial launch from the beach into a strong headwind. Olya flashes a wicked smile as they march to the pier opposite the USS Hornet where a small, retired Icelandic ferry called the Maritol is moored. From their micro puffies, sports glasses and sharp jogging shoes, they look like happy campers toting a tent to another site. Olya and Ethan walk the prototype to the edge of the pier. On three, they drop the 8’ diameter prototype over the pier into the San Francisco Bay behind the Maritol.

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Unfortunate for us, the human race cannot simply move campsites at this stage of our development. Global warming has caused thawing in the Arctic Circle, releasing stored methane from the bottoms of over 150,000 previously frozen lakes. If CO2 is a single-walled tent in direct sunlight, methane (which is 28 times more insulating than CO2) is the rain fly sweltering the inhabitants alive. The mid-range and long term effects were reiterated in this report, which was subsequently declared false by the Trump Administration, highlighting the need for stronger political will to address the climate crisis. In a short few decades, climate refugees are all but certain. According to a World Health Organization report from earlier this year, millions of lives are at stake.

And so, Olya Irzak, Ethan Chaleff and Laughlin Baker are launching Frost Methane to mitigate climate change by capturing arctic methane and igniting it before it hits the atmosphere.

Creating a Team and a Technology

The ferry’s rear loading hatch is open to the bay and the team is sorting through equipment. The interior of the ferry is something straight out of a Neal Stephensen novel. Where commuters once parked is an electronics shop with hundreds of parts in numerous drawers. In the very back is an extemporaneously decorated lounging area with bits of bedding and tapestry beneath a ramada. There are stations with optical equipment and soldering guns beneath the oceanic viewing ports, and the chandelier is some kind of geodesic with every point connecting to every point across the interior.

Olya suits up in her neoprene as Ethan and Laughlin motor the zodiac beyond the stern of the Maritol to scout the deployment. The team attaches milk jugs for positive buoyancy and free weights for negative buoyancy to control ascent and descent. Their prototype is shaped like a patio umbrella with vacuum hose in the center. The hose leads to a 4″ cylinder where the electronics will be housed at the water’s surface.

Water gently laps against the hull of the quiet ship. The team co-directs the slow descent of the white tarp into the emerald green waters of the San Francisco Bay. The vacuum hose noodles from the middle of the baggy tarp, extending out to a methane collector and ignition unit. It is designed to be deployed concavely over a methane breach in an arctic lake. The collector will communicate through satellites, reporting on the amount of methane captured and ignited. Carefully, the team ascends the device, and lugs the components to the loading bay.

The entire time, I have listened to them communicate to enable the best ideas to be found by solution-based thinking. Today was a relatively problem free, but success is still far away. The following week, the team will attempt a second deployment. This time they must attempt to assemble on the water. They will need to know how to launch the disassembled device from two kayaks and a dingy at their test site near Kotzebue, Alaska.

Laughlin and the USS Hornet. Alameda, California.

Frost Energies. Circa 2018. Alameda, California.

Olya and Ethan. Alameda, California.

Sunlight ripples off the water beneath the flight deck of the USS Hornet. The flags of the USS Hornet lift to an urgent whip. On the pier, the octagonal white tarp catches the wind in long swells, simultaneously rising and falling like sand dunes crawling across the deserts. Olya, Ethan and Laughlin assemble the prototype as tourists enter the decommissioned aircraft carrier.

Olya walks over to Ethan and Laughlin toiling over the flapping corner, “What can I do to not be useless?” she asks. They ziptie the white tarp to the frame. Ethan inserts the exit port at the center, securing it with blue duct tape and more zipties. They origami the now 35’ diameter prototype into a bundle and descend into the Maritol.

On the water, the stronger current and high wind create issues for the team. Connecting the elbow joints proves difficult at this scale. Components begin to sink before they are connected. The entire rig is pushed against the pier as the two boats manipulate the piping and tarps.

The team moves quickly to even out the descent. Their hands become cold in the extended deployment. With so much at stake, there is nothing as reassuring as strong teamwork in the face of small details, all of which the team addresses with support and deference to the best ideas being offered up. They are even kind enough to let me unprofessionally chime in. My specialty, really. The desire to feel helpful is difficult to resist.

Second prototype deployment. The team folds the tarp for deployment from the Maritol. The wind makes this task a bit unruly. Alameda, California.

The team descending into the Maritol with the folded gear. Alameda, California.

Beginning deployment. Alameda, California.

The larger design created difficulties for the team. As the tarp was opened, it began to sink under its own weight. The team is shown here working quickly connect the PVC frame and buoyancy control devices. Alameda, California.

The evening light diffuses in the San Francisco fog. Shadows soften and disappear. Today was a success, in the sense that redesigns were identified and protocols were reality tested. In two weeks, the prototype will be on its way north of Fairbanks for testing in far colder conditions.

Olya gets out of the kayak and goes below deck to change. “Evaporative drying is a bitch,” she says with a smile, shivering in her wet suit. The team breaks down the components and debrief over a spread of Thai food. None of them eat meat for carbon and health reasons. They sequence their experiences, creating an education for themselves based on what went wrong. Their chemistry is easier for me to appreciate than the technical aspects of their discussion. Ethan feels organically like a big brother, Laughlin like the negotiator middle sibling, and Olya the silly younger sister; with the addition of professional respect as peers. They agree to scale down the prototype for the field test in Kotzebue, Alaska.

Perseverance and Lost Permafrost

The effects of climate change are already here. Two years ago, the Mendocino Complex Fire destroyed 459,123 acres of woodland in Northern California. The next year, we saw the deadliest yet with the Camp Fire, where 86 people lost their lives and 18,804 structures were destroyed. The cause is thought to be a combination of human intrusion into woodland areas as well as a 3° Fahrenheit increase in California over the past century. My home, Sonoma County, is already redrawing topo maps to account for the potential rise in sea level.

Firefighters back burn the forest east of Kenwood, California, in order to stop the Tubbs Fire, October 2017. Sonoma County, California.

The trip to the Arctic Circle taught the team what the field conditions would require. Unable to attend due to a wedding at Burning Man (my own, alas), the team agrees to make daily logs of their experimental deployment in Alaska. Olya and Laughlin spend many hours debugging the electronics. Ethan punch-drunkenly reports the daily toils and the numerous obstacles. In areal footage, the team demonstrates the collapsing of the shoreline due to the loss of permafrost.

It is a bewildering sensation coming back from your own high-carbon footprint wedding to the video logs of three scientists in the Alaskan bush, explaining how microvolts fried the iridium modem (but they had a backup!) in their save-the-world prototype, not to mention the meta-encounter with a reporter from the Washington Post doing a story on this very subject. Do follow that link for a professional summation of this topic.

Each log entry reminds me how frustrating these small steps can be. No matter how good a collaborator you are, camping food is always bad. And although a persevering attitude is important in the creation of reliable technology, don’t forget to bring a shotgun in case a bear decides to attack your only computer scientist, too.

Everyone seemed tired yet optimistic by the end of their trip to Kotzebue. Their last video correspondence was from a bar in Seward, Alaska. Everyone agreed it was more work than they’d expected. The asymmetry of the tarp caused the gas to collate unevenly and escape out the sides rather than at the port in the middle. As Ethan put it, it was not a #success. His tarp design needs to be more conical, and Laughlin’s electronics and batteries could be lighter. The team was able to measure the flow rate and uplink to the satellite, which was a huge bit of progress and not to be understated.

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Frost Methane is drawing nearer to a design that could be part of a global solution to climate change. According to a critical report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (the UN’s body for assessing science related to climate change) we have 12 years left to avert global disaster. In the back of our minds is the same understanding – The time to triage climate change, like cancer, is before it metastases.

Frost Methane could be among many future companies that can curb greenhouse gas emissions — provided an economic incentive, such as a carbon tax, is available. In a comforting display of rational self-interest, a hedge fund representing 32 trillion in global investments demanded governments do more to mitigate the global rise in temperatures by implementing carbon taxes, among other measures. For every ton of methane eliminated, Frost Methane could be paid from these carbon tax revenues. Such potential revenues are essential to incentivize broader investment in climate change mitigation.

For Olya, hacking the problem is their first goal. Frost Methane’s priority is rapid deployment to avert an increase in global temperatures. For them, the business side seems to be a means to an end more than anything else.

Update: This article was written almost a year ago. With the confluences of seasonal flooding in and new babies in the author’s hometown, it was not edited and published until August 2019. Since then, Frost Methane has made significant progress in their organization and refinement of the technology underpinning this critically necessary advancement in planetary stewardship. A potential followup article will address those updates.

A Startup to Save All Startups Frost Methane is targeting arctic methane release to avert climate catastrophism. It’s a sunny morning in Alameda, California.

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