#stop trying to game the system and not play by the rules when the prize for everyone playing is food for the starving | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enthusiasticharry · 4 years ago

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 13.3k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : ahh, it is finally here! i honestly can’t explain how excited i am for you all to read the first part of checkmate, it truly is one of my lil’ baby. a few things before i shut up and let you read, the chess maybe confusing to some of you (me too at some points) but you only need to take not on whether she wins or not really. this is enemies to lovers, so harry is a bit of a *ahem* dick but what do we expect? this is just the first part and a brief introduction (brief? 13k words? okay hannah, ahah) but i truly do hope you enjoy :)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit language, main characters being horrid to each other and the ol’ banger of sexism in chess (the background on this is insane)

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈 here

Upon entering the village hall, YN realised a few things. The first thing she realised was that after casting her eyes around the large room she was in, she certainly didn’t feel as though she fit in. The second thing she realised was that the clock was ticking and if she didn’t speed up, she was probably going to miss the slot to put her name down for the tournament. Taking a few steps forward, thoughts fluttered around her head about whether or not this was the best idea. She hadn’t played the game in a few years with other people, and here she was, about to put her name down to play the biggest tournament closest to her, in one of the neighbouring towns.

After a few seconds, she knew that she would be not only letting herself down, but also her grandmother and if she wasn’t doing this for herself, then she was certainly doing this for her grandmother.

A desk had been set up at the front of the hall, and two men wearing crisp beige shirts sat behind it. Why they were wearing beige of all colours? YN would never know. They certainly didn’t look like the most inviting people to greet her. She peered behind them for a few seconds, her eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of the rows upon rows of square tables with green and white chessboards sat on top of them. She hadn’t seen this many chessboards in one room for a long time, and a part of it made her feel quite comfortable. The people that were already there were all stood in a group around what she presumed was a chessboard — she was just making a wild guess that it was that, but she had a slight suspicion that was the case. It was at this point she noticed the ‘SIGN UP HERE’ sign that was placed in front of one of the men, and that was who she walked up to.

He obviously noticed that she was there, but he never lifted his eyes up from table in front of him, “Name?”

YN was taken aback by how gruff his voice sounded, and more so by the way he spoke to her without even lifting his eyes, “YN YLN.”

It was at this point that he did look up, and so did the person sat next to him. It was at this point she, also, started to feel a little more out of place than before, as though the eyes upon her were ridiculing her for just being stood there. If her name hadn’t tumbled from her lips, being the way that it is, would they have even looked up at her? She would never know.

“The dance class has been rearranged for another night.” The man is quick to say, dropping his eyes back to the desk in front of him.

“I’m not here for the dance class.” She says, lifting her hand to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “This is the chess tournament, is it not?”

YN watched as the men turned to look at each other briefly, the one who hadn’t spoken to her shrugging his shoulders before they turn back to look at her again, “Do you own a clock?”

She shakes her head, “I don’t.”

The men, yet again, turn to look at each other. She wasn’t quite sure why she needed to own a clock, but if it was the first question they asked after her name, she was sure that it must have some significance in the games she was about to play. Would she have to invest in a clock of all things with her non-existent money?

“There’s a clock-sharing system here.” He says, “If you don’t have one, you’ll have to share with your opponent and if they don’t have one, come back to us and we’ll borrow you one.”

“Thank you.” She nodded her head.

When YN was younger, and she learnt how to play chess, she was never taught about clocks. Her grandfather had taught her by giving her endless amounts of books that he had stored away in the back of the bookshop that he owned that had nobody wanted, or ones that he already had. At first, YN didn’t want them either. At the time she was gifted them, she didn’t do much with her days apart from stare out of the window of her small attic bedroom, watching the clouds as they floated past in all their different shapes. She’d often try and see if she could spot any shapes within the white, but she could hardly bring herself to do so most days. It had taken her three days to finally pick up the books that her grandfather had left for her, and even then she only stared at them. She suspects that a part of her just wasn’t ready to read the books yet, and she was okay with that.

When she did open the books, YN fell in love with them, and more importantly she fell in love with the game of chess. Learning about different experts and grandmasters and analysing their games so much that she could remember every move they made, and even critique them if they made a mistake that she had spotted. She remembers the first ever passage she read about chess even to this day, in the book that rested upon the top of the pile her grandfather gave her: ‘Chess for beginners: a guide to the game.’

What is Chess?

Chess is a two player game, that requires skill and patience. Each player starts with sixteen pieces played on a square board, made of 64 smaller squares. The sixteen pieces include: eight pawns, two knights, two bishops, two rooks, one queen and one king. The goal is for each player to try and checkmate their opponents king. Checkmate is a threat to the opposing king which no move can stop, therefore ending the game.

The game is taken in turns, each player moving their pieces to different squares on the board. One player (playing “white”) and the other (playing “black”), must move the pieces sticking to the rule of how they move, they can’t just go rogue! White will always start the game, and the player playing white will be lucky to be doing so, because they always have an advantage!

That was the passage that first introduced her to chess, and if it wasn’t for that passage, she doesn’t believe she’d love the game as much as she does. It was a passage that gave her the basics, and also intrigued her to know all about the rest of it.

“I forgot to ask.” The man starts speaking again, “What is your rating?”

“I don’t. . .” She starts, shaking her head, “I don’t have a rating.”

“Listen, sweetheart.” The man says, and she has to stop herself from physically shuddering at the name he gives her, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I am.”

He shakes his head, letting out a long sigh as he does so, “We don’t have a women’s section.”

She tries her hardest to not let it show that the words that he says don’t sit with her in the right way, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’ll put you in the beginners section, then.” He says, jotting something down again, “You’ll be comfortable there.”

“I’m no beginner.” She says, “And I don’t want to be comfortable.”

The thing that annoyed YN the most wasn’t the words that he said to her, even though those did annoy her more than she could explain, it was the way that they looked at her. They looked at her as though she wasn’t good enough to play, as though she shouldn’t be putting her name down for chess competition and she should have been looking for the dance class instead. If they actually knew her (she didn’t want them too) they would know that dancing certainly wasn’t for her, she had two left feet at most.

A few years ago, back when she played chess regularly, she wouldn’t have even cast an eye in their direction, never mind allow it to effect her in the way that it is. The first time she played someone that wasn’t her grandfather, it had been the top player from the local chess team he played for. If she remembers correctly, the game was over in all of thirty-two moves, and she didn’t even break a sweat. Her opponent, however, definitely had broken a sweat and she could tell that by the way he kept rubbing his forehead and by the way his leg bounced up and down. It was quite annoying, and it was probably why it took YN thirty-two moves and not her average of twenty-six, but it was still very impressive of the young girl. The thing that she had when she was younger, though, was no care for what other people thought of her as young girl playing chess, because it was a game that tested your skill and not your gender.

“You’re an unrated player.” He shrugged, “I’ll have to put you in beginners, with players that have ratings under 600.”

YN hadn’t taken much notice of ratings in Chess Weekly, the magazine that she got the majority of her chess knowledge, and the thing that had lead her to find out about the tournament in the first place, but she had picked up that ratings only start to become important when you become an expert, and that’s when the rating is over 2000.

“Do beginners still get a prize?” She asks.

“Yeah.” He says, “But it’s only fifty.”

She was doing this for the money, and she knew that fifty wouldn’t be enough for her to continue on the way that she was. She needed more, and the prize that Chess Weekly had listed was more than fifty pounds, and that was what she was going for.

“And the other section? What is the prize for that?”

He took a second to answer.

“Two-fifty.”

That was the prize that she had seen in the magazine, and that was the one that she had set her hopes on winning, the one that she had every belief that she would win if she entered. She needed the money. Her grandmother needed the money. It was hard after her grandfather died, hard for them to conjure up the money to not only pay the bills for the house, but also pay for new stock in the bookshop. No matter how many times YN had tried to convince her grandmother that the best thing to do was to sell the bookshop, and give them some money to make them feel a little more comfortable, her grandmother always refused. The bookshop was her husbands livelihood, and YN grew to understand that and grew to know that was why she wouldn’t give up the shop, no matter how much they needed the money. It was the reason why YN was here, trying to win the grand prize that would help them a little more with their struggles.

“Can I go into that section?” She asks, and the man’s lips part slightly.

“Well—“ He clears his throat, casting his eyes to the man next to him, “There isn’t a rule to say that you can’t.”

“Then put me in that section.” She says, ignoring the looks she receives from both of the men, “Please.”

He nods his head, “That’ll be five pounds please.” She drops the note upon the table, which he immediately takes and places in the small tin he has with him, “Thank you. Play starts in Twenty minutes.”

“Thank you.”

The man passed her a card to fill out and a pencil, “All the luck to you, sweetheart. There’s two players in there with ratings over 1600, and there’s also an expert!”

“Is the expert playing?” She asks.

He shakes his head, “He isn’t.”

“Then I don’t have anything to worry about.” She offers him a small smile, “Thank you, again.”

She walked away from the table, taking a few steps until she wasn’t in earshot of the two men. The entire conversation rested heavily on YN’s mind, but at least she made it out of the other side relatively unharmed. She looked down at the card she had been given, with her last name scribbled on the top line and a space for her to put her rating. She uses the small pencil she had also been given to draw a large zero in the box, sighing with happiness after she’d done so. There was still a large group of people stood around a board, and it was at this time that she decided to make her way over to the large group.

What she was about to walk into, she wasn’t quite sure, but she couldn’t help but be curious about what it was. She found a nice position by an opening, where she could see two men sat at a table, with a round of chess already on the go.

“Who are they?” She whispers to the man next to her, without even an ounce of hesitation in her voice.

“That’s Harry Styles. He’s an expert.” He immediately whispers back, “And that’s Mitch Rowland, he’s a tournament win away from becoming an expert too.”

She thinks that Harry Styles is the one to the left of her. The way he sits with his elbows either side of the board, his face stern as he moves the pieces in front of him. They were moving them very quickly and she presumed that they were playing skittles, or on simpler terms: speed chess. YN wasn’t the biggest fan of speed chess, but from the way the man kept picking up piece upon piece without so much of hesitation, she guessed that not only was he the expert, but he must also a skilled speed chess player. She had a talent for spotting the best players out of a bunch, even if there weren’t the best to start with.

“And over.”

Her lips part slightly as she hears the northern drawl slip out of his lips, in a deep voice that she certainly hadn’t expected. He looked a tad older than she was, but that was a given, seeing as though everyone in this room looked older than she was. He looked to possible be in his late twenties, and apart from his curly brown hair that peaks her attention at first glance, the chunky rings that sit on quite a few of his fingers or the brown knitted jumper he has upon his torso also do so. It certainly wasn’t a conventional look upon the majority of chess players that she had met before, even though the number was limited. She wondered whether it was the slight roll at the neck, or the green detailing on the arms that drew her attention in more than his fluffy brown curls.

“You’ve done it again, H.”

The man who you were guessing to be Mitch replies, extending his hand out to shake his opponents hand. From the shortened use of his name, she wondered whether or not they knew each other. If they didn’t, then it certainly wasn’t the most conventional way to greet a stranger having just lost to him. The two of them stood up, and that was when she noticed the high-waisted lime-green trousers that he also wore, pairing them with a pair of vans of all things. He looked more put together than the rest of the men in the room, which wasn’t too hard to do given the rest of the outfits within the room. The group disperses soon after, and its at this point she noticed the bulletin board being put up.

YN tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, and makes her way over to the board. Once she sees a man stood there, finishing pinning the last through names up, she can’t help the words that slip out of her lips, “How do they arrange the pairings?”

“Usually by rating first round.” He says, closing the plastic covering that maintains the board to be in the way he had put it, “Then winners play winners, losers play losers.”

He walks off after that, and that’s when she finally spots her name:

‘YLN - Unr - White’ and it was next to, ‘Jones - Unr - Black’

She was at first shocked to be playing white, and second shocked that she was playing someone else who was unrated. The men at the table must have really been giving her a hard time if someone else who was unrated was playing in the main section. It just proves that the two of them were really out to make it so she wasn’t supposed to play in the game because she was unrated, but she knew it was really because she was a woman and she knew that.

It said that she was playing on board twenty and after flicking her eyes around the rest of the boards, she realised that it was the last board. It was just another thing that she knew was because she was an unrated woman. She just hoped that whoever her opponent was wouldn’t mind that she was a woman. Chess, as much as it was a sport played by both women and men, it was a sport that still held the misogyny that women shouldn’t play in tournaments against men, because they didn’t have the skill that men did, even though the majority of women had the same skill, or were more skilled, they just never had the opportunity to show it. YN swore that if she did manage to play chess, she wouldn’t allow the watchful eyes of judging men to put her off.

So far, she wasn’t doing a good job of doing that.

When she walked over to board twenty, she was shocked to find a women sat at the opposite side of the table from where she was about to about to sit.

“Hello.” The girl says, standing up and holding her hand out for YN to shake, which she does, “I’m Sarah Jones.”

“YN YLN.” She replies, sitting down across from her, “Um, do you have a clock? I don’t have one and I was told to ask.”

“Oh!” The girl immediately picks up her bag that was rested upon the floor and lifted a large wooden rectangular block out of it, one with two clock faces on it and two small buttons on the top, “I do.”

As awkward as YN felt, she knew that if she was to understand the concept of clocks, then she would have to open her mouth and ask, “Can you explain to me how they work?”

“Sure!” Sarah smiles as though she can’t contain her excitement to explain what YN didn’t understand, “The clock nearest to you is yours. We both have ninety minutes each to play the game, if you’re still playing by the time the little red flag comes down then you’ve lost. Once you move, you click the little button on the top of your clock and that starts your opponents time.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t worry about it.” Sarah smiles back, and suddenly YN feels at ease in the girls presence, “I wish I had somebody to tell me these things when I first started. I did learn, slowly, but it would’ve been nice to have a little more help when I first started.”

“I’ve been playing for years.” YN’s quick to say, just to make sure that the girl knows that she isn’t a complete imbecile when it comes to the game, “This is just my first tournament.”

“How exciting!” She gushes, “This is my third. I’m waiting for my rating to come through. They aren’t as quick with women’s ratings as they are with mens.”

“Why am I not surprised?” YN says, a hint of humour within her voice. Sarah chuckles and YN can’t help the little smile that falls over her cheeks, “I’ve been here less than an hour and they’ve already tried to make me feel smaller than I am because I’m a woman.”

“Get used to that.” Sarah offers her a small smile, “Your turn first.” YN’s about to pick up a piece when Sarah moves to say something else, “Another thing I’ve forgotten to mention! Games in tournaments are touch move.”

“What does that mean?”

“If you touch a piece, you have to move it.” YN nods her head and looks back down at the board, taking in the board briefly before she made her decision.

“Do you press your button to start my time?” YN asks.

“Yes.” Sarah smiles sheepishly, reaching forward to press the small button, “Sorry about that.”

Without hesitation, YN reached out and firmly moved her queen bishop’s pawn to its fourth square. The Sicilian Defence was the first chess opening she had ever read about, in one of the more advanced chess books her grandfather had given her, and it consequently became her favourite. It was the one that she found worked more effectively than any of the other openings she had learnt about, and was certainly the one that she used more often than others.

Without really thinking, once she’d placed her piece down, she pressed the small button that stopped her time and started Sarah’s and placed her elbows upon the table, resting her hands upon her hands just as she had seen lime-green trousers do earlier. She was unsure whether people would notice, but it added a sense of confidence to the girl once she’d done it. When she played with her grandfather, she only ever let her hands rest upon her lap once she’d made her move, and after a few seconds of resting the way that she did, she starting to like this way of resting in between her moves.

She allowed Sarah to make her moves, which she reciprocated with hers and it wasn’t until she was around her seventh move that she began to attack with them. Sometimes she waits longer to make her attacking moves, and other times she makes them earlier. It all depended on how she was feeling and how she suspected the game to go with each of the different moves. On the eleventh move of the game, she captured one of Sarah’s bishops, and then a few moves after on her nineteenth — her queen.

She looked up slightly at Sarah, and saw the way she furrowed her eyebrows slightly at the board before dropping all of the worry that glazed over her features. What surprised YN even more was when she reached forward and knocked her king over, even though it shouldn’t have. There wasn’t anywhere else she could have.

“Wow.” Sarah says, almost sounding flabbergasted about what she had just witnessed, “That was, well, quick.”

“I’m sorry.” YN’s quick to say but Sarah shakes her head.

“Don’t be.” She smiles, “I think you’re one of the best players I’ve ever played. Make sure to take your card back, and circle that you’ve won!”

With that, Sarah was up and walking away from the table. YN picked up the small pencil that she had been given earlier and wrote the game down with Sarah and herself, recording that she had won. She made her way back towards the desk where she had signed up, ignoring the shocked faces of the two men that sat behind the desk once she’d placed her card in the winner’s basket. It was the first card back she noticed, in both the winners and the losers side. It was at this point she noticed the man in the lime-green trousers stood against the side wall looking directly at her. She wasn’t too sure, but it didn’t look as if he was watching her every move. She tried her hardest to not make it too obvious that he had seen her staring and made her way around the room, looking at all of the different games that had started to be played.

She made her way past board number five, the one lime-green trousers had been stood near, only to see it being the man that he had played a game of speed chess with earlier. It was absolutely certain to YN now that they did know each other, it would be a little odd if they didn’t, maybe even a little bit stalker-ish. What else she was quite surprised at was seeing Sarah stood watching over the same board. YN offered her a smile and went to stand next to her.

Looking over the board slightly, YN noticed straight away that the man who was playing Black, not the man who was playing speed chess but his opponent, had a chance to win a rook after moving his bishop, but he instead exchanged his pawns. In her mind, she knew that he had just placed himself in a position that a good player would know how to immediately win him over.

“One of them has a rating of 1450, and the other has a rating of 1689.” Sarah whispers to her, “They’re two of the headliners to win.”

“Well one of them just made a mistake.” YN immediately whispers back.

“Who?” Sarah’s eyebrows furrow as she says the words, a little two loudly because all of the eyes around them flutter in their direction.

“Black.” YN whispers discretely back, “He should’ve moved his bishop, winning white’s rook but instead he exchanged pawns, leaving him wide open.”

“My god.” She says, dropping her mouth open in shock as she looked at the girl, “You’re insane. How did you notice that.”

She shrugs, “I just observe games well, I suppose.”

“You’re telling me.”

The two of them look back at the game in front of them, and just as she had suspected, the man playing white managed to take black’s rook, and then the queen that was conveniently left wide open, leaving his opponent no other option but to topple his king over. The shake hands and the winner immediately turns around, smiling as lime-green trousers claps him on the back and wraps his arms around his shoulders. They make their way over to the desk, presumably dropping their cards into the baskets.

“What is their deal?” YN asks Sarah, feeling comfortable enough with the girl to do so.

“Harry and Mitch?” She nods at Sarah’s words, “They’re best friends, met a few years ago when they drew at a tournament. Harry’s already an expert after winning a game a couple of towns over but Mitch is yet to do so. Harry’s just here to offer moral support to his friend.”

“I’m sure making him loose at speed chess beforehand is great moral support.” YN’s mutters.

She laughs, “You’d be surprised. They’re forever psyching each other out with games of skittles. They drive me absolutely insane with it.”

“You know them?” YN is quite baffled at his revelation.

Sarah nods, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth, “Mitch is my boyfriend. The person who taught me chess, actually.”

YN��s lips part slightly but she immediately shuts them, “Wow.”

“I know.” She laughs, scratching her forehead sightly, “They’re pretentious twats when it comes to their chess but when you get to know them, they’re alright.”

YN casts her eyes to them for a second, watching as they look at the board, obviously trying to pinpoint their competition, “I’ll take your word for it.”

YN next game started twenty minutes later, once everyone else had finished their games, returned their complete cards and paired everyone up for their next games, she made her back over to the board to see who her next opponent was. She was at board ten, which she was pleasantly shocked about, seeing as though the last board she played at was board twenty

‘Scott - 332 - White’ which sat next to, ‘YLN - Unr - Black’

She was playing black, which meant that she had to work a little bit harder to make sure that she would start just as strong as she would if she were playing white. She weaved her way through the abundance of people either lingering or making their way to their boards ever so slowly because they don’t want to be seen going to their looser game. She smiles at that thought, they should embrace it, their opponent may just have been better, and they’d have to work from that. Once she made it to table ten, she was surprised to see a man who looked around his mid-thirties, maybe earlier-forties sat waiting for her with a grimace upon his face. Chess players aren’t the nicest of people ever, so YN really isn’t surprised when he doesn’t even respond to her hello, instead just looks down at the board. She doesn’t even hesitate when she leans forward and presses the little button above the clock by the side of them, starting his time.

He made his opening move, which she followed by moving pawn to queen’s four and pressed his time again. He moved again straight after her movement, instantly with pawn to his queen’s four as well. She quickly noticed that he never looked at her, and instead kept his eyes darting around the room whenever he wasn’t studying the board. She just sat with her elbows placed neatly each side of the board and rested her chin on her hands, staring at both him and the board in intervals.

He played fast, but she could play even faster and she was beginning to see a little impatience in the man, as though he wanting to play even faster and have the game to be over faster. It had taken them roughly five or six minutes to both develop their pieces, ready to start attacking the other. He started attacking her queen first, which she wasn’t too surprised about because if the shoe was on the other foot she probably would have done the same thing — in a more skilful way, if she may add.

Ignoring his attack, she starts to advance her knight. He responded by pushing a pawn up, and she was surprised that him doing so meant that she couldn’t take it without being on the responding end of a nasty double attack. She raised her eyebrow, knowing that she could so without him noticing that she was doing so, because his eyes were still fluttering around the room.

He was obviously a very skilled player, and he had to be with the impressive rating of 332. He was better than her grandfather, which pained her to say, but her grandfather always used to say that he was only ever playing the game for fun, and never professionally. As a small child, hearing the word ‘professional’ tricked her mind into thinking that she may actually be able to get a career out of this, but from this experience right now she wondered whether that would be the case or not.

He surprised her with his next move, picking up his queen bishop and taking one of the pawns next to her king with it, checking her as he did so and sacrificing the piece. To say it threw her off guard for a second would be an understatement, and she did have to go through every option she could before she made her decision.

She moved her king over in that direction, but didn’t take the bishop.

He brought his knight down, and she traded the pawns on the other side, meaning she opened the file for her rook. He kept chipping away at her king with complicated moves, but none that she could see had any real danger to her. She brought her rook out, and doubled it with her queen. It was an arrangement that she didn’t quite mind, and she felt ready to fire at any second with whatever she had left in her.

It only took her three moves to fire and he seemed too entranced by his complicated moves to truly pick up on what she was doing. He was only focusing on chipping away at her king, not paying any attention to the full board, meaning he was missing out on the moves she was making. If he hadn’t been so focused on trying to checkmate her, he would have had her by the fourth move he made, after the first check with the bishop. She had him with her third move, and she saw an opportunity to fire her rook. She moved her queen to the last rank, and captured the white rook, one that still start there unmoved. He was a very messy player, even if a skilled one.

She looked up at him, and for the first time this entire game he looked up at her. It was almost as though he knew he was over, but he was determined as he reached out and took her queen with his rook.

Looking down, she almost didn’t want to look at him as she tried to hide her smile. She leaned her hand forward, picked her bishop up and moved it one square and muttered the single word of, “Check.”

YN was surprised when he leant forward, picking up his king before he hesitated. He had finally noticed what what she had done. If he made the move that he had wanted, he was going to loose his queen and the rook that he had just captured. He looked at her and without hesitating said, “Draw?”

“No.” She hook her head.

“Okay.” He held out his hand, “I resign.”

She has to bite her lip to hold in her smile, one that was only there because she had taken her time and actually thought about what she was doing.

“You play a good game, kid.” He says, and with that he leaves the table. She can’t even contain her excitement when she writes the game down on her card, circling her name to say that she had won. Placing it in the basket, and seeing the two men looking at her again with shocked expressions on their faces, she couldn’t contain her smile.

To say she had just beaten the first person she had played who actually had a rating that she had to watch out for, she was happy to say the least. The idea of her possibly winning this whole tournament starting itching closer and closer, and to say that she was happy was an understatement. She goes to stand by the back wall, watching over as people around her still played their games, using their own tactics to hopefully win. She didn’t really have a lot of tactics, she just had moves that worked for her and a strategy of whizzing through all of the best options in her head before she played them, making sure that she wasn’t leaving herself open like Sarah had done and then Scott afterwards.

The clearing of a throat and the feeling of a presence near her was the thing that snapped her out of her winner’s gloat and back into the real world of being in a room with snobby chess players. Lime-green trousers was now stood directly next to her, seeming to be the snobbiest of them all from first impressions, but she certainly isn’t one to pre-judge.

“It seems to me that you’re getting a little too big for your boots, aren’t you?”

She definitely should pre-judge, certainly more so when it comes to snobby chess players and especially ones that wear vans she has noticed.

“Big for my boots?” She raises her eyebrow at him slightly, “You mean winning?”

“For an unrated player, yes.” He responds, “You’re just on a streak of luck. I’ll be happy once I see you loose next game.”

This man. YN couldn’t believe that he had the audacity to say those things to her, more so that once she’d looked at him she was absolutely disgusted. He stood there, next to her with one hand tucked within the pocket of his trousers, smirking at her as though she should laugh with him at the words he had just said.

She cannot at all say that she cared very much about this man, in fact, the questions she had about him were only because she wanted to know why he felt like he ran the place. To have him, someone who she had never met before, say so openly that he was waiting for her to fail sparked something within her, anger to be honest. To anybody else they might have allowed it to get into their head, but YN didn’t have the opportunity to do that — she needed to do well in this tournament and she wasn’t going to allow some snobbish expert to say something of that sort to her ruin it.

She cleared her throat, dropping her eyes down to floor, “If I recall correctly, you aren’t even playing in this tournament Mr. Styles.”

“Mr. Styles?” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at her once she’d said it, “You’ve heard of me?”

“Not before today, no.” She shakes her head, allowing a little smile to grace over her lips as his falters slightly, “In fact, I had no idea who you were. I had to ask somebody.”

“And yet you know that I’m not playing.” He takes his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugs his shoulders.

“And yet again, I asked someone.” She tilts her head, “I only asked your name, they felt the need to give me all the information they knew about you.”

“Which was?”

“You think you’re semi-decent at chess and feel the need to make sure everyone knows.”

It was a low blow, and she certainly knew that but she can’t lie and say that it didn’t feel good to see his face falter at her words. Whether it be snobbish boys at school, or snobbish chess players like this Harry Styles himself, she knew it was always the most fun to hit them right where it hurts. For normal members of the male species specifically, they hated when people attacked their masculinity, as though it was fragile and if someone flicked it too harsh it may explode and they might be nice to others for one (Shock! Horror!). For chess players, they already had people keeping their masculinity in check by them playing a predominately male-played game, so, if she just hit that stabbed and twisted that specifically, reminding them that she was also a female at the same time, well it killed two birds with one stone.

So what if she was an unrated player? It just meant that she didn’t have the experience of other. She presumes that people like him forget that at one point he too didn’t have a rating, and had to start off from the beginning. She wondered if someone had plagued him then, meaning that he felt the need to also do it to her. She knew that wouldn’t have been the case, and she was sure if she searched his name up, she’d find thousands of articles that labelled him as a ‘child-prodigy’, which she had also been called in her youth but not by anybody of real power.

That title was tossed around in chess a little too much for her liking.

“Semi-decent?” His voice is laced with venom and she can tell straight away, “I’m an expert, love, not some wannabe that doesn’t know the difference between skill and sheer luck.”

For a few seconds, she thought about whether or not she had done something horrid in her past life that meant she had to meet this man. Sheer luck was something that you’d get if you knew how to play chess, but thought you were better than you actually were. YN knew that she was good, the hours she spent studying over different senior master’s games to make sure she knew every trick in the book meant that she was good. Skill came in many different forms, but the main thing that all skilled people of this sport knew was that it took time. She’s sure Harry’s familiar with that himself, but he has too much of a precious ego to ever let anyone know such a thing.

Even if he did have a precious ego that he felt he needed to protect, there were other ways to do it then degrading herself.

YN turned to look at him, making sure that the message her eyes sent let him know that he wasn’t to make a peep, “I may be unrated, but if you forget, sunshine, at some point you were too.” She sighs, “To me, sheer luck between us is the idea that you’ve managed to finesse your way so far up this games arse that nobody has realised what an absolute monstrosity of a person you actually are.”

Lime-green trousers, as she was now going to call him forever, threw her a look that she knew would kill her if they were able too, “Monstrosity? Have you heard yourself, love?”

“At least I’m not trying to hide the fact that I’m actually horrid, which I’m certainly not, by using the excuse of being a fantastic chess player, as you like to boast that you are.”

“Have you seen any of my games?” He raises his eyebrows, “Seen how good I actually am?”

She laughs and shakes her head, seeing that he’s fallen directly into her trap, “I’ve never once said that you weren’t a good player, in fact, I would never say something like that.”

“But you’ve —”

“If you recall, Mr. Styles, I never said anything about your chess other than you think you’re semi-decent, which isn’t an insult at all.” She says, leaning back on your heel slightly, “I never insulted your chess, only your personality. You decide which one you cherish the most.”

“What if I take semi-decent as an insult?”

She shrugs, “Then you’re even shallower than I thought. Think back to what you said about my chess, which I quote was that I played with ‘sheer luck’ and that ‘you’ll be happy to see me loose my next game’.”

YN feels proud of herself that she’d managed to stick up for herself in front of the shell of a man, not allowing his shitty behaviour and rudeness to bring her down from her high. She had won her first two games in the tournament for christ’s sake, and it meant she was a hell of a lot closer to maybe winning this thing.

“Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get home.” She says, “Need to get some rest, have a full day tomorrow of winning on sheer luck. I have some praying to do, I suppose.”

With that, YN turns and walks away from him, leaving him in a stunned silence in the corner of the room at the words that she had said to him. She wasn’t going to let that man do what she supposes he has done to many other people to her. She didn’t deserve that.

As she left the village hall after the first day of the tournament she realised that if she was going to make it amongst these chess players, she was going to have to learn that she wasn’t some push over, and she deserved the respect that other players received.

She was going to prove to lime-green trousers that she was a good player, one with skill and show him that the ‘sheer luck’ nonsense he was going on about was something that he had just made up in her case.

To do this, the first thing YN had to do was search up this man, and learn the tricks of his trade. She was going to beat him at his own game, whether or not he was playing.

The next day YN walked into the village hall with a spring in her step. When she had returned home, she had immediately bolted upstairs and locked herself within her room, sat on her bed with her chessboard in front of her, running through all of her games to see if there were any weaknesses in her play. There weren’t, and that made her smile. Her grandfather had always said that she was a wonder, someone who was so young but knew more then him about the game that he had taught her how to play. YN truly couldn’t understand how she was better than her grandfather at chess, but she thinks it has something to do with the hours upon hours she spent as a child when she should’ve been doing schoolwork going over games and moves until she had them memorised.

The next thing she did was open her laptop up and search up, ‘Harry Styles’. She couldn’t stop herself from doing so, and just as she had thought, the man was some sort of child prodigy. Reading one of the articles on the Chess Weekly website, he had won his first tournament at aged eight, and ever since, he had just excelled. It said if he wins the next regional championships he will be on his way to being national master, and if he wins the next national championships he will be senior master. YN had no idea that there were so many different championships and tournaments to play in chess.

She had read through all of his games that were publish on the Chess Weekly website and she wasn’t surprised that she couldn’t find any fault in his game. She played them out on her board as she read them, and tried her very hardest to find errors where she would’ve done differently but she couldn’t. He had the title of expert for something, and the skill he had certainly was the thing that gave him that.

YN also found out that he had won another tournament close by to the one that she was playing, and he already had an invitation to the regional championships that were taking place in Manchester in three months so he didn’t have to play. It was at this point she learnt that if she was to win this tournament, she wouldn’t just win the prize money but also an invitation to play at regional’s with all of the other winners. It certainly gave her something to look forward to which she hadn’t had before.

That morning, she had dressed in an outfit that was smart, yet also casual. She had paired some high-waisted black trousers with a black turtle-neck and added a chunky-knit tan cardigan with large black pin-stripes on it. The belt she added hugged in her waist and made her feel as though she could do anything. She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t doing this as an ode to lime-green trousers, wearing something similar to what he was wearing just to spite him that even though they were of different genders, they were both playing the same sport as people.

The village hall looked exactly the same as it did yesterday, and the people that were there were also the same as yesterday, YN noticed. She offered a closed-lipped smile to the men that were sat at the table, the same two as yesterday. They looked at her with a shocked look upon their features, as though they couldn’t believe that she was actually still playing. She made her way over to the notice board, skimming her eyes over to find that she was on board eight, and that she was actually the only unrated player still left in the tournament. A grin threatened to cross her features but she didn’t allow it. She had to look tough.

“YN YLN.” She said, holding her hand out to shake his hand.

“James Wortley.”

The board had told her that his rating was 1065, meaning that he would be the best player she had played all weekend, but that certainly didn’t mean that he would beat her. He wasn’t going to beat her, she wouldn’t allow it. YN was playing white, giving her the advantage that she was going to start the game. She played pawn to king four, hoping that he’d play the Sicilian, the one move she knew better than any other.

He didn’t.

Wortley copied and played pawn to king four, and then moved his king’s bishop so it was in the corner, above his castled king. She hadn’t seen anything like this before, and she wondered whether he had made it up. It seemed to be one of those moves that people make up to try and hurt their opponents brain.

It hadn’t worked then, but during the middle of the game it started to get a little more complex, and YN started to make decisions without actually thinking them through. Without thinking everything through, she made the decision to retreat her bishop, lifting it up slightly off the board. It was at this point she noticed that she had a better move of pawn to queen four. She dropped it back down to the board.

“Touch move.” Wortley interrupted. She looked up at him and wanted nothing more than to smack the smile that had crossed his lips off him “You have to move your bishop.”

She tried to not make her mistake obvious and moved her bishop to bishop four. It was the first time in any of her chess games that she had played previously. Even when she played with only her grandfather, her moves were all clean and precise and she hardly made any mistakes. When she was learning, she made mistakes, but one needs that to become good at whatever they are doing. After the first period or so of learning, when she could say that she wasn’t a beginner, the mistakes started to become less and less until she could proudly say that she made none.

Wortley had a grin on his face that she knew was because he had noticed her little tumble. He moved his queen’s pawn to the fifth square, tapping his clock button smugly and leaning back in his chair as if to psych her out. She wasn’t going to let him know that it was working.

If she didn’t think about this, he was going to capture one of her bishops, and she wasn’t about to let him do that and leave her in a vulnerable position. It took her ten minutes of studying the board over and over again until she found a move that meant that he wasn’t going to do that. He took her bishop, thinking he had actually done something, but then she advanced the queen rook pawn over on the opposite side of the board. She saw his face drop for a moment, but his next move was quick as he pushed the queen pawn forward again.

He wasn’t as good a player as she thought, because he fell delicately into her trap that she had laid out for him. She moved her knight, attacking his rook. Doing so, she knew that he would move the rook to the square that she had thought he would, and that allowed her to bring her queen out to bishop five, right above where he had left his castled king. She could feel the anger bubbling within his body as she lifted her queen, and took the pawn directly under the king, sacrificing her queen.

He took the queen, there was nothing else he could do.

She brought her bishop out for another check, and he halted her pawn, just as she reckoned he would, “You’ll be checkmate in two.”

Wortley had a sour look upon his face, lifting his eye to look at her calm ones, “What?”

“The rook will come over, mate.” She tilts her head as she watches him play out her words as he stares at the board, “Then the knight mates afterwards.”

“But my queen—”

“Will be pinned after I move my king.”

YN quite liked watching him crumble before her, spitting out a, “Fuck!” as he knew she was right. Just as the snobby chess player he was, he stood up without turning his king or shaking her hand and stormed away from the table, leaving her with a small smile upon her lips. She enjoyed writing her game down on the card and circling her name. As she stood up, she tucked her chair underneath the table, she was shocked to see lime-green trousers stood directly behind her, this time wearing blue flared jeans and an orange jumper. She was still going to call him lime-green trousers in her head.

He had his arms crossed and a stern look upon his face, one that she supposed came from just watching her game. She hoped he had enjoyed himself.

“Still sheer luck?” She asked, with a playful smile and the tilt of her head.

“You made a mistake.”

“But I got myself out of it.”

“You still made it.”

YN shook her head, knowing that nothing would be good enough for this man. He thrived on making players like her feel like shit because they made one mistake. Some people would crumble from the move that she made — but she didn’t, and she won.

“Are you genuinely telling me that you’ve never made a mistake playing before?”

If he said no, she certainly wouldn’t believe him. She hadn’t before today, but she hadn’t played in professional tournaments before today also.

“I’ve never made a mistake playing in an important game, no.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well you better believe it, rookie.”

“I think I’ve proven that I’m no rookie.” She purses her features for emphasis.

He chuckles, “You’ll prove that you’re no rookie if you win this whole thing. But I can’t say that I have belief that you will.”

With that he’s walking past her, brushing her shoulder with his so hard that it almost sends her off balance. He was one of the people that YN found hard to not get angry with all of the time. It was his taunting and his teasing and the fact that he has virtually no belief that she’s good enough to win this thing. If he had watched her game, which she was guessing he had, then he would certainly know that she was a skilled player. She would’ve liked to see him play that game as well as she did, making the mistake and all.

Her next game was an hour or so later, and when she checked the notice board she was on board four. She was playing someone called Reid, and they had a rating of 1602. She was shocked to know that this person was one of the two people with ratings over 1600 that she had been told about when she joined yesterday. She wasn’t going to let intimidate her.

She shook his hand and sat down across from him. She wasn’t going to lie, he looked like he had just walked out of a movie set, with blonde waves and a nice smile. She was surprised that once he sat down, he didn’t stop smiling at her. She returned it, only for it to drop once she saw who was sat behind him. Lime-green trousers, with a smirk on his face as his eyes never left her. This was the last game she had to play, she noticed. There was only one other board in use at board one. She hadn’t even realised that had been the case. He was trying to psych her out, and she noticed this because his friend was the other player sat on the other board.

It was a low blow, even for him. If lime-green trousers believed that she was a threat to his friend, then he should have more faith in his friend. It was one thing to stalk out your opponents and try to get into their heads, but Harry wasn’t even playing her. His friend, who is called Mitch if she remembers correctly, hadn’t even batted an eyelid in her direction, and if he didn’t care about her then she was unsure why his friend cared so much. It wasn’t even as though he was doing a good job of it either. Did he think that standing there with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed was going to distract her? It certainly wasn’t.

“Are you ready?” Stopping the rant in her head, she flutters her eyes down to movie-star and offers him a smile.

She wasn’t going to let him distract her after this point, “Ready.”

YN was playing black, meaning he had the advantage but it wasn’t going to be something that she worried herself over. Reid played pawn to king four and then pressed his clock. She could feel not only his eyes staring at her, but lime-green trousers as well. This was going to be a long game, and she could already feel that.

She played pawn to queen bishop four. By the time the middle of the game came around, after every move she made she was looking up at lime-green trousers, who still had his eyes on her. She wondered whether she did so to spite him that he was trying to get under her skin or she did so because she found herself being drawn to him. He was one of the only people that had ever been to do so to her whilst she was playing the game.

There were no weaknesses on either side of their play, and it was just a case of waiting and finding the best squares for her knights and bishops. It started to become like a routine, and she really was starting to get bored. Harry’s stern face had grown now into a smirk that she knew would be etched into her brain for hours to come, reminding her that he thinks she’s not going to win at all.

Reid brought a knight to queen five, and it caused a frown to cross YN’s face because she knew she wouldn’t be able to dis-lodge it. She didn’t look up at lime-green trousers after her next movement because she knew that his smirk would have grown to cover the entirety of his face. Reid had finally started to creep up on her, but the only thing that YN could actually think was that it was about time.

YN had her elbows on the table, her head rested upon her fists as she looked over the board with a keen eye. She decided it was time to fight back, pushing her pawn up so that it opened up her bishop, meaning that the bishop’s power had tripled. She hoped that lime-green trousers would have noticed that she had done this, and that the smirk he had upon his face had left.

Reid kept bringing his pieces up and he knew that there were limits to what he could do to her. YN focused on the left-hand corner of the board where his queen was. Strategically, she moved her bishop down in the middle of his clustered pieces and set it on his knight two square. If he decided to capture it, he would be in trouble. She looked up at him and she could tell that he was starting to get nervous, and his clock was certainly ticking.

Fifteen minutes later he made his move, taking the bishop with his rook. It was as though he couldn’t see that moving the rook of the back rank was a foolish move. He was supposed to be one of the top players of this competition and he hadn’t spotted this. She was shocked. Checking that it was right, she brought out her queen.

He didn’t notice it until after his next move, and that was when his game fell apart. Six moves later when she got her queen’s pawn passed to the sixth rank, he brought his rook under the pawn. She attacked it with her bishop. He studied the board for a few seconds and she tried her hardest to not allow a winning smile to cross her lips.

He lifted his hand up and set his king on the side, “I resign. You win.”

He held his hand out which she shook, and the applause was defining. She stands up and sees that lime-green trousers had already disappeared, walking towards his friend that had also finished his game. She did smile at that. She was one step closer to winning the tournament and proving that she was actually a good player, and she hoped that she would be able to rub it in his face.

“YN!” It’s Sarah who calls her name after she had moved away from the board. The girl walks over and wraps her arms around YN, who does stiffen for a few a seconds before relaxing in her touch, “That was amazing!”

YN tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, “Thank you.”

They moved away from the board and out into the open, “The way you tricked him was insane! I’ve never seen anything like that before. ”

YN wasn’t used to receiving compliments, and especially not about her chess. She hadn’t received compliments about her chess in a long time, and certainly not in situations like this one. Her grandfather always complimented the way she played, but he sort of had to because of their relations and all. Maybe this tournament would start more people complimenting her chess.

As they walked, Sarah slipped her arm through YN’s, “Are you sure you’re not rated?”

“I haven’t played in years.” YN shook her head, “There’s no way that I am.”

She had played with herself over the past years but nobody else, and that’s how she knew for certain that there would be no way that she had a rating.

“Years?” Sarah’s tone is shocked, “You haven’t played in years and you’re that good? I don’t play for a few days and I’ve completely forgotten everything.”

YN chuckles at her words lightly, “I played with myself.”

“Yourself?” She smiled, “You must have had some rivalries with yourself.”

“I played other people’s games.” She clarified, “I played through games that were in Chess Weekly and tried to find any faults in it.”

“Did you find any?” She asks.

“A few.” YN shrugs, “Mainly people missing things that are directly in front of them.”

“Like Reid?” Sarah questioned and YN nodded.

“They focus on something too much and miss what their opponents are doing.”

Sarah turned to the side slightly to look at her, “You’re right. I’ll have to check to see if I do that.”

“You did in our game.” YN teases.

“I know I did.” Sarah bumps her shoulder slightly, “And now I have the Queen of chess as a friend who can teach me the tricks of the trade.”

YN didn’t have many friends, so it was nice to hear that she had a friend coming from somebodies lips.

YN nodded her head at Sarah, “I can do that.”

“I’m counting on it.”

When YN returned the next day, it was to play the final game, the one that if she wins she would win the prize money of two hundred and fifty pounds — something that would help her and her grandmother out dearly. Yesterday, she had wiped out her opponent Harris in under forty moves, thirty-six to be exact. She arrived and saw a group of people already stood around board one, where she knew she would be playing the game. Boards two and three were ready to start again, playing to find who would be in the places third, fourth, fifth and sixth.

Mitch Rowland was the man she was playing, with a rating of 1689, and she knew that rating could be exactly how good he was or be hiding the truth, just like it had been with movie-star. When he sat down and she looked around the room, she could see Sarah sat there, cheering on her boyfriend obviously whilst he played his final game.

“YN YLN.” The words slip out of his lips easily, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Mitch Rowland.”

She smiles and shakes the hand he holds out, “I can say the same about you.”

YN was playing white, and the second he had punched her clock, she moved pawn to king four and punched his clock. He immediately responded by moving his king pawn to the third square, punching her clock smugly. The French Defence. She had read about it in one of her books before, but she had never played it. She hesitated for a second on what was the best move to make, and after steady contemplation of all of the different outcomes, she played her pawn to queen four. She couldn’t help but wonder whether she had made a mistake or not.

Rowland hastily picked up his queen pawn and put it on queen four, and pressed the button of his clock. The opening had thrown her off, and she wondered whether Mitch had noticed that. He had to have. Deciding to bring out one of her knights, she decided to struggle in the centre squares. He was moving fast, and captured one of her pawns and she saw that she couldn’t do the same with it.

He had an advantage and she tried her very best to shrug it off. He was certainly the first player that she’d played that matched his rating, that was the truth.

Taking the pieces of the back rank, she castles and looks up at Mitch. He looked completely calm, as though he knew exactly what he was doing and wasn’t worried about the consequences of it. For the first time, she started to feel uncomfortable in her seat, and moves slightly within it. She found herself pushing her fingers into her chin as they rested in the new position she had found herself liking. She wondered if lime-green trousers was here, and if he knew that she had seen the way he rested within his game and tried to copy that, if he had, it would be another thing to be teased on.

Looking down at the board, there was a cluster of pieces and pawns on the board that seemed to have no real sense of why they were there. She knew her clock was ticking, and looking at it, she saw that she had used twenty-three minutes of it. Mitch had only used twenty minutes of his. He was leant back in his chair, clearing enjoying that she had no idea what she was she was going to do.

After a few more minutes of staring at the board, she found what she thought would be a good square for her knight, and she reached out her hand but then stopped. If she had done that, it wouldn’t have been good for her at all. She needed to do something about his queen before he had it on the rook file and ready to threaten. She needed to find someway to protect it, but no matter how much she stared at them, she couldn’t see a possible move.

Eventually she did find a sensible move and quickly made it, bringing a knight back near the king which protected it from Rowland’s queen. She could see that it had shocked him, because his features dropped for a second before he took a pawn on the other side of the board. That opened up his bishop, which was aimed at the knight that she had brought back, and now she was down by another pawn. He now had a small smile by his face, and she knew that if she didn’t do something quickly, it would be all over for her. The king would have been taken in four or five moves.

It took her a few minutes but she found her move and made it, punching her clock. Rowland studied the board for a minute before taking her knight with his bishop, like she had hoped that he would. She didn’t retake the move, and instead brought a bishop over to attack one of his rooks. He moved the rook out of the line of fire, like he had too. She brought her queen from the back to the centre and that now threatened to take the rook, pinning the king’s knight pawn so she could take the bishop with a check. It was now Mitch’s turn to study the board, and now his clock was ticking.

Fifteen minutes later he found the rook move that she had thought of earlier. It allowed her rook to come over her queen and from the deep breath he took, she knew she had got him. Ten more minutes later he moved his queen into a defensive position, but it certainly wouldn’t work. She reached out and advanced her pawn, attacking his queen. He stared at the pawn for a moment as though it was something that would hurt him if he touched it. If he moved his queen, YN would be able to attack him in an abundance of ways.

“Fucking hell.” He shock his head, trying to figure out what to do until he had ten minutes left on his clock. She had forty five, but she wasn’t one to brag.

There was only one move he could make, even though it would be the end of the game for him. She brought up a bishop behind her queen, threatening checkmate that he had to parry with his queen. She ignored it and pushed her rook to the third rank, where it could move either left or right. She would get either his queen or a checkmate, whatever he did.

“Fucking hell.” He repeated again, shaking his head and placing his hand upon his forehead.

“You can’t get out of it.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I can.” He says, “I will.”

She shrugged, “If you say so.”

With four minutes on the clock, he stared and stared at the board as though it was going to jump out and tell him what to do. Thirty seconds to go he picked up his queen and slammed it in front of the rook, offering to sacrifice it for the rook. He pressed the button, letting out a deep breath.

“I told you it doesn’t work.” She said, “There’s other options but the queen.”

“Make your move.” He said sourly.

“I can check you—”

“Just move.” He sounded as though she was giving up.

Nodding, she checked with the bishop and he retorted by moving his king away and pressing the button. Without a hesitation, she brought her queen down next to the king which sacrificed it. He could hardly believe that he had done it and snatched up her queen and stopped the clock. She pushed her bishop from the back rank to the middle and said, “Check. Mate next move.”

He looked at it, and shook his head, “Fucking hell.”

She wondered whether or not that was his favourite phrase.

“The rook will mate.” She responds to him, “I was trying to tell you that.”

“Fucking hell.” He shakes his head and holds his hand out for YN to shake, which she does, “They told me you were good.”

She couldn’t believe it.

People cheered around the room, clapping for her of all people. She was shocked to say the least. People who she didn’t even know congratulated her for her win, and it was something that she knew that she could get used to. She was given a cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds, and although it wasn’t a lot, it would certainly help her and her grandmother slightly.

YN couldn’t wait to get home and tell her grandmother the good news. The bus had been ten minutes late, and she spent the entire time with the cheque laying heavy in her pocket. She allowed her mind to wonder, but not too much. The thing that she thought of the most was how she hadn’t seen lime-green trousers there for the final. She would’ve thought that if anybody was there for the final, it would’ve been him, but he was no where to be seen. YN knew that it was probably really petty to want to rub it in his face that she had won, but she felt as though she deserved to do so with the shit he had said to her.

YN couldn’t contain her excitement as she finally burst her way into the house, immediately kicking her shoes off and placing her jacket over the banister.

“Grandma?” She called out, “Where are you?”

“In the kitchen!” She called back, which YN certainly wasn’t surprised at.

YN had realised from a young age that when her grandmother was nervous, she found herself always cooking or baking. They don’t have a lot of money but they always had things to make sweet treats with. Her grandmother was an excellent baker and she would choose her grandmothers sweets any day but her grandmother never had the confidence to believe that was the case.

When YN walks in the kitchen, she’s immediately met by all of the different aromas of what her grandmother had been cooking and baking throughout the day whilst she had been playing the tournament.

“It smells nice in here.” YN says, walking over to the counter and leaning down upon it, beaming up at her grandmother.

“It should do.” She responds, stirring the stew that was in the crock pot, probably having been in the majority of the day, “I’ve been slaving around all day in this kitchen.”

“For me?” YN smiles, placing a hand upon her chest, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I should.” She nods, taking two plates out of the cupboard so she could serve up, “We had to have something that was as celebratory as it was a pick me up.”

YN smiled, unable to hide her love for her grandmother. Her grandmother had always been a loving person and a person that always thought about other people rather than herself. YN had always aspired to be like her grandmother, and she hoped that she would be, even though it could be hard at times to do so.

“Anyways.” She wipes her hand upon a teacloth that she did have over her shoulder, “How did it go?”

“How did what go?” YN teases, walking over to sit down at the dining table that she had set out.

The next thing YN feels is the teacloth that her grandmother did have over her shoulder, hitting her on the head.

“What was that for?” She exclaimed.

“You know exactly what that was for!” YN chuckles at her grandmothers response, “Now tell me. What happened?”

“Oh, you know. I played some chess.”

Her grandmother rolls her eyes, “I gathered that.”

“And. . .” YN takes the cheque out of her pocket and holds it up for her grandmother, “I won this.”

“YN!” She exclaims, clapping her hand to her mouth, immediately walking over to where her granddaughter was stood to lift the cheque out of her hand, “You won! I can’t believe it!”

“Well then.” YN chuckles, “It’s nice to know you had faith in me grandma.”

“Oh shut it with you.” She places the cheque back down, “I’m the first person to admit that you’re crazy good at chess, but, you haven’t played another person in how many years?”

“Uh.” YN thinks for a second, “Four, maybe five.”

“That’s a long time, YN.”

It was a long time, she was right. Apart from playing her grandfather, YN had only ever played people who were on her grandfather’s chess team. They were all older than her, and more experienced, but she always managed to win. Her grandfather always said that she was a wonder. Chess wasn’t popular within her age group, and she wasn’t one to really put herself out there so she spent her days locked up within her room playing through other peoples games rather than her own. It probably wasn’t the best way to learn chess but it certainly had some benefits.

“I know.” She nods, “It was odd. They all had ratings to be impressed of but made silly mistakes. They concentrated on other things rather than what I was doing.”

“Maybe you were just too good of a player for them to handle.”

YN chuckled, “I highly doubt that.”

“No. That’s what I believe.”

YN, for one, had a good memory. To be able to learn to play chess the way that she did, playing through games over and over again until she had them memorised hinted at that. YN wasn’t really a fan of school, and even though she passed with okay grades she knew that after that she was finished with learning. Instead, she started to work in her grandfather’s bookshop, and it meant that she could read all the chess books she wanted whilst she was on the job, even though she probably wasn’t supposed to.

“They just made silly mistakes.”

“I’m sure.”

“I even made some.”

“We’re all human.” Her grandma says, “That still doesn’t take away from the fact that you have real skill, YN. Skill that could take you places.”

Not knowing how to handle the compliment she had just been given, YN looks down at the table, running her finger along the edge of it.

“I could do.” She says, shrugging her shoulders slightly, “Take it somewhere.”

“How do you mean?”

“All the winners of the tournaments get invited to play in the Regional Championships.”

“That’s amazing!”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth and nods, “It’s in three months. In Manchester. The prize money is double, maybe triple what the tournaments was. I don’t know yet.”

“Wow.” Her grandmother shakes her head, “He always knew that you’d go somewhere with chess. Always told me that you would.”

He hadn’t even told YN that he thought she would be able to play chess professionally, only ever briefly mentioning that people can play it professionally if they want, but knowing that he had told her grandmother about it was something that caused butterflies to flutter within her stomach as well as a heart-wrenching twist.

A part of her wished he was still around to tell her that to her face.

“I’d have to really practice to win.”

“I’m sure you’ll do it.”

YN had already orchestrated a plan of what she was going to do to prepare for the championships. She was sure that she could find a list of all of the winners of the different tournaments, probably on Chess Weekly the more she thought of it, and she would learn each and everyone of their more important games. It mean that whoever she played, she would’ve been able to familiarise herself with their strategies and make sure she knew what they preferred to play out of everything. It would be tough, but it wasn’t like she had anything else to do.

“You know, YN.” She says, reaching out and placing her hand on YN’s, “He’d be so very proud of everything you’ve achieved. Even if it had been a little delayed.”

YN chuckles at her grandmothers words. It had actually taken her a while to psych herself up to play the tournament because she knew that it would be hard to do so without her grandfather, but at the same time she knew that she had to do it for him because he wasn’t here.

“I know.” She grips her grandmother’s hand just as tightly back, “I’m doing it all for him.”

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @havethetimeofyourstyles @stylesfics-xx @ill-be-your-honey-bri @millennial-teenybopper @burberryharold @heartbreakweatherharry @ucancallmechlo @hipslikejagger @kylos-empress @itsbuckysworld @afire-hes @lolapuffs @cutemint @the-tumbl-r-of-my-youth @njpic @caprisunstyles

#ahhh chessrry is here and i hope you like it #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles series #series

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just--another--daydreamer · 4 years ago

Text

Cotton Candy

» Katsuki Bakugo x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

» Fandom: My Hero Academia » Genre: Fluff » Requested (by anon): Hi there. Your writing is amazing, I love it! Could I suggest Bakugou knowing how to get he wants and how to make you weak at the knees. Sorry if it doesn’t make sense » Warnings: swearing, mentions of death » Words: 1.8k

You can find a link to my Masterlist in my bio

Please check my bio for the status of requests before sending something in

A mild breeze brushed over your face as you inhaled the familiar scent of the funfair that was popcorn and cotton candy mixing with the smell of the warm spring day. The many booths spread across the field provided shadow, keeping you cool as you strolled around the fair midst the many people who had been drawn to the same spot by the inviting smells and sounds. The crowd’s chatting was drowned by joyful screams and laughter whenever you passed by one of the rides, adults and children alike seemingly having the time of their lives.

Bakugo and you blended into the crowd perfectly. You had cotton candy in one hand, the other held onto your boyfriend’s right one as you passed by the booths.

It was your first date in a while. The new boarding school system at UA put many restrictions on your free time, as well as on how you were allowed to spend it. You had gotten the permission to go to the funfair by All Might, who had given in after a few days of you begging him nicely and Bakugo threatening to blow stuff up if he didn’t let you two go on this date. Any other teacher would have probably said no after the recent events of Bakugo and Midoriya sneaking out, but after all that, your boyfriend still managed to convince All Might. He knew how to get what he wanted at all times.

Most of the time, that was achieved by excessive yelling and him trying to intimidate the other person, sometimes even setting off small explosions and threatening to kill them – which was more terrifying to anyone than only intimidating – but it always worked. Though, there were some rare exceptions. And you were one of those.

Before you had started dating, and before you even became close friends, Bakugo used to try to get his way by yelling at you too, only to be met by a blank expression and you immediately brushing off his demands. It frustrated Bakugo to no end, to the point where he just gave up on that tactic. Asking nicely was what had worked out with you in the end, and it was what Bakugo had stuck with ever since, even though it felt humiliating - Bakugo could have walked around UA naked and he would feel the same. But if it was a way to get what he wanted, he would do it.

You got Bakugo’s attention by tugging at his shirt lightly. “Look!” Bakugo’s eyes followed the direction you pointed with your cotton candy and landed on a booth with a simple game – though what had caught your attention was not the game, but the prizes, specifically the stuffed animals.

“Huh?” Bakugo looked back and forth between you and the booth. “You want one?” You smiled and nodded silently. A frown formed on your boyfriend’s face as he continued looking at you. “Seriously?!” “Come oooon, Katsuki!” you whined. “Please? This is a date after all!” He seemed to consider your words for a moment before he sighed. “Ugh, okay, fine.” Letting go of your hand, he approached the booth and you followed him close behind.

The game was simple: you had to throw a ball at a target to win a prize. Bakugo dug his hand into his pocket and slammed some money onto the counter. “One throw.” The man behind the counter exchanged the money with a tennis ball. Without looking at you, Bakugo yelled over his shoulder, “you want this one, right?” he pointed at a huge teddy bear dangling over the counter. “Yeah!”

“Young man,” the guy behind the counter started, “I’m afraid you’ll need more than one thro-” “Shut the hell up!” Bakugo began cracking his knuckles while eyeing all the targets in front of him.

“I’m assuming this is the main prize and that I’d have to hit more than one target for it?” “Correc-” “Are there any other rules?” “No, there are n-”

A wide grin appeared on Bakugo’s face. “Then step back, old man.” The man looked confused but did as he was told. You took a step back as well, already covering your ears. Bakugo let his knuckles crack one more time before he winded his arm, aiming at one of the targets. Even though you were protecting your ears, the explosion that came simultaneously to Bakugo throwing the ball made you flinch a little. It was not a huge explosion, just enough to blow away every single one of the targets and to make everyone else who was around turn to face you, which might also be because Bakugo had shouted “die” while throwing.

The back of the booth had been blown away by the explosion, particles of dust and smoke as well as pieces of wood flew through the air. The older man behind the counter fell into a state of shock and was only able to nod when Bakugo pointed at the big teddy bear once again, asking if he could have it now.

“There you go.” “Thank you so much, Katsuki!” You landed a kiss on his cheek before welcoming the stuffed animal with open arms, earning a huff from Bakugo. “You jealous?” You teased with a raised eyebrow. “Tse, dream on.”

You took one last look at the hole that your boyfriend had blown into the booth before you took Bakugo’s hand once again and continued walking, the teddy bear in your arm.

You came across some more booths, bought some sweets for your friends and went on almost all of the rides together.

“There is only one ride left,” Bakugo pointed out. “Yeah.” You slowly approached the Ferris wheel that was towering over the funfair, cabins slightly shaking every once in a while, whenever an evening breeze caught them.

“Come on, let’s go!” Bakugo started walking but was held back by you. You remained right where you were standing. “Hey! Why aren’t you coming?” Your boyfriend looked at you a little confused. “I-” you started, avoiding his eyes. “I’m not sure about this, Katsuki.” “Huh? The Ferris wheel?” You shook your head. “It’s getting late, y’know?”

Bakugo took a quick look at his phone and groaned. “Who cares if we come back a little too late, this is my date and I make the rules.” This came as a little surprise to you. Bakugo was usually the first to go to bed, at eight in the evening, and never a second too late. If someone tried to stop him, he blew them up. “Mister Aizawa might get mad at us,” you argued. “Who cares?!” Bakugo repeated, louder this time. “Let’s go, Y/N!” He made another attempt at pulling you towards the ride, but you did not budge. Your boyfriend let out another annoyed groan before he turned back to you.

He tilted his head to the side, a frown on his face. Before you knew how to interpret his expression, it changed again. This time, into a sly smirk. Bakugo knew how to win. He always knew.

One of his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer until you were only a few inches away from him. His breath fanned over your cheek as he let out a short chuckle. With his other hand, he lifted your chin, made you look into his eyes. Your heart skipped a few beats as you stood there, stunned, and surprised by your boyfriend’s sudden change in behaviour. The places where Bakugo’s fingers were touching your skin – light and gentle, like feathers – tingled pleasantly and sent signals through your veins. Your legs – no – your whole body felt like putty in this exact moment while your brain was filled with nothing but cotton candy.

“You know,” he started, voice low and quiet, “If anyone says anything about us being too late, I’ll kill them. Let’s enjoy this moment. Together. Just you and me. Come with me, Y/N. We have all the time in the world.” Heat started rising to your cheeks and you wanted to turn away in embarrassment, but all you could do was stare at him. “Take my hand,” Bakugo continued in the same tone as he took your hand in his, that had been holding your wrist just a second ago. He intertwined your fingers and took a step back, though his other hand lingered beneath your chin for one more moment before he let go.

When he started to walk again you followed him closely, legs barely working yet carrying you by themselves. Your mind was still clouded, and the state only began to fade when you sat down in one of the open cabins.

The wheel started to move not soon after and you pressed the teddy to your chest as you started to rise off the ground and into the sky. It took a while, but soon you were able to overlook the whole funfair. The farther away from the ground you rose the quieter it got, and soon the laughter and the screams were nothing more than faint sounds barely reaching you. You came to a stop exactly at the top.

“Look over there.” Bakugo nudged your side. You tore your eyes away from the ground and instead looked at what your boyfriend wanted to show you. Your eyes widened at the scene in front of you. The sky was painted in bright orange and golden colours, the clouds shone in a soft yellow. The cities and fields in the distance were bathing in the warm colours of the evening sun, like a sea purely consisting of light.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Bakugo put an arm around you without looking away from the sunset. “Yeah,” you whispered. The light was dancing on Bakugo’s face as well, making his hair appear in a rich gold. You leaned against him and rested your head on his shoulder. A kiss was pressed to your forehead and you turned your head to receive one to your lips as well. It was a sweet one that faintly tasted like cotton candy. Bakugo lingered there for a while before pulling back with a smile on his face.

The whole spectacle only lasted a few minutes before the orange was replaced by a crimson red that faded into deep blue. Slowly, the Ferris wheel began turning again.

Once you had landed back on the ground, the lights of the fair turned on one by one, blinking and flashing in the rhythms of the music that was playing.

You shivered and walked a little closer to Bakugo when you made your way across the field, past the booths, and back to UA. “You cold?” Without even waiting for a response, Bakugo put his arm around your shoulders again. It was not a lot of protection against the cold, but warmth spread through your body anyway.

“I had an amazing day,” you told him after a while. “I’m glad.” “Do you think we’ll get yelled at?” “If someone tries to, I’ll kill them.” You only chuckled and leaned in for another kiss.

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #x reader #x male reader #x you #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #bakugou #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader

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sasa-gay-yo · 4 years ago

Text

Just Us (Chapter Six: Knight)

← Chapter Five

“Elias, you need to put your hat over your ears or they’re going to freeze.” I pulled the little boy’s hat down more trying to convince him to keep it there.

“But I want to wear it like Jo Jo is,” he whined and pointed to the older boy standing next to him. Jonas was wearing a hat in a way that he said made his hair look good. He’d be better off just not wearing a hat if he didn’t care about his ears freezing.

“Tch.”

“Did you just tch me?” I stood up and tried to pull his hat down, too, but that was impossible because of our height difference. He stepped backwards and had to catch my wrist so I wouldn’t hit his face.

“Elias, don’t be like Jonas. Everything he does is because he wants girls to stare at him.” June laughed, knowing the secret she had spilled to me months ago and so did Elias. Jonas just glared at me for a bit and straightened out his coat. Elias grabbed my hand and pulled me to the town square. The festival was in full swing and I made the two children wait for me to close the store before we could go. He didn’t even want to open his presents before we left.

“Rules before we get there because I lied to your parents and told them you two were helping me and if I lose one of you it will be on my head. We use the buddy system. If you want to run off and do something, Elias, then you have to go with one of us.” He let go of my hand and grabbed Jonas’s.

“I pick Jo Jo.” Jonas groaned at his nickname and knew that he wasn’t going to pick up any girls with a kid attached to his hip. I didn’t care since he’d be out at the bars tonight when we take the kids home. He said it was his goal to have a girl in bed every year-end so he could start the year off right. Disgusting.

“You can stay with me then June.” She smiled up at me and we locked elbows, happy with how the straws were drawn. I knew she wouldn’t drag me along to every stall, but she could go to what she wanted since we liked the same things. That also means I wouldn’t have to spend my money on all the treats Elias wanted either. It was a great arrangement.

Once we got to the town square, Elias dragged Jonas to a toy shop and June and I kept walking. We both wanted to get a warm drink before our hands fell off. This year-end was definitely one of the coldest I’ve experienced.

“Eva, the Scouts are here too. Look, it’s the commander guy.” She pointed out Erwin who was talking to the head of the Trost Garrison in the center square. They were extra security for the influx of people coming in from Wall Maria. I really wanted to look around for Levi, but I knew he was going to be somewhere on the roof tops monitoring with his ODM gear.

“Isn’t that the boy you like, June?” I leaned down and pointed out a specific blonde haired boy who was with a few of his friends. They were at a game booth wasting their money to get a prize. She blushed when I pointed him out.

“Come on,” I pulled her over to the booth and had to work hard because she didn’t not want to go over at all. If anything, I wanted to help her, and I hope she knew that as I pulled out a few bills to play the game right next to them. She had a chance to talk to him that seemed organic. I was a perfect wingwoman.

“If you get three balls in, you can get one of these small prizes.” He handed them to me and I knew instantly that I was going to lose. I had bad aim and I knew the bucket didn’t have circular openings. Still, my determination to get June to talk to that boy was at an all time high. I’d take my time with this game to make it look like I was actually concentrating on it.

“June, hi!” I looked behind me and she had both hands behind her back, one toe drawing pictures in the dirt.

“Hi, Finn.” He smiled which made me feel like I had succeeded. Maybe it’d eat a few more notes so that she can talk longer.

I tossed the balls and completely missed two but hit the bucket on the last one. It didn’t go in, but at least there was a little hope. Damn, this game seems so simple, too. That may have added to the reasons I handed the man another bill. This time I’d have to throw it with more arc.

“Oh! Better luck next time! Do you want to play again?” He held out his hand and I couldn’t resist the urge to pull another bill out of my pocket and did it over again. This time when I made one ball in I shouted and made the other boys with Finn turn.

“Whoa! You actually got one in Miss!” I smirked down at them, accomplished. Getting pre-teen boys to compliment you was a feat and I was going to take it.

“Do you want to play ag-” He came from the back of the booth and we locked eyes. He wasn’t wearing a coat like the Scouts on the ground and this was the first time I had seen him in his full gear. How does he look so good with a hunk of metal attached to his sides?

Over the past week and a half, I had come to terms with my feelings for Levi like an adult should. Hours of pounding dough gets the annoyance of falling for someone like him out in no time. At first I was annoyed at myself because I knew that to get him to talk or even acknowledge any emotion was never going to happen. If he can’t tell me when he’s sad, how is he going to say he has feelings for me if he even has them. For the time being, I was okay with being quiet about how I felt because I didn’t want to ruin his almost daily visits to the café. Even yesterday, while my heart was literally beating out of my chest, he helped me make sourdough loaves for hours. Watching him kneed dough with his sleeves up, a concentrated look on his face, and hair tied back just did something to a girl.

So, even if I was being a big girl and dealing with my feelings, I was also nervous as hell to even let him know about it. A single slip and I have completely lost this game of pretend we had. If he knew, we couldn’t pretend anymore and I think that’s the whole reason he hangs around me in the first place.

“I couldn’t stand watching you lose over and over again, so I came to win.” I raised an eyebrow and was secretly satisfied he was watching me from above.

“It may look simple, but it’s hard. I usually have a good aim.” A lie. He rolled his sleeves up again and the shirt that he was wearing was a copy of one I had stolen from his bedroom dresser. He had so many because it was his uniform, that made sense. What didn’t make sense was that fact that in these freezing temperatures he was only wearing a cape.

“Give me one try.” He held his hand out to me and I just stared at it.

“Wow, Captain Levi! Are you going to play?!” The kids, including June, had crowded around us which definitely fueled Levi’s desire to win.

“Why are you holding your hand out? You have to pay to play.” I pointed to the vendor who was just staring at our interaction.

“Do you think I carry money on me while I’m doing a mission? I’ll repay you by winning.” I rolled my eyes and found his determination in front of the kids cute, so I obliged and paid to get him three more balls.

“Watch and learn, brats.”

With the kids staring, and no doubt some Scouts above, he stood behind the line and ever so easily threw the balls in one right after the other. It made me annoyed that he did it so flawlessly, but we were talking about Levi. The kids cheered around him, which definitely made his ego inflate even more, and when he was handed the stuffed rabbit, he took one glance at it before giving it to me with one arm.

“Repayment.” When the kids started asking him questions, he just walked away wordlessly and before he pressed whatever button it was to launch him back up on the buildings, I called out to him:

“When are you picking up the desserts?” He just turned his head around, not stopping his actions, and answered as he propelled off the ground.

“Nine.” He went flying through the air criss-crossing around buildings. He did look really cool doing that like it was nothing. I could see the blank look on his face as he advanced forward and finally found a roof to land on. I smiled at him, as if he could see me, and stuffed the rabbit under my arm.

“Miss Eva, you know Captain Levi?!” It was Finn who was asking and I couldn’t disappoint my girl.

“We’re friends. He comes to my café sometimes, so you might see him again. June knows when he comes, you can come with her.” They looked at June and she blushed at their stares. I looked up at Levi, but his back was turned to look at another half of the festival. Standing on that roof, he did give off Humanity’s Strongest vibes.

“We’ll see you boys later. June and I want to get something to drink.” She put her arm in mine again, probably glad that her anxiety ridden interaction was over with Finn, and we walked off.

“That was cool of Mister Captain Levi. He even won you the rabbit.” She pointed to it and I nodded. And I was keeping the damn thing if he ever asked for it back to be petty.

“I’ll name it Levi, how ‘bout it?” She nodded in agreement and we met up with Jonas and a candy-filled, bouncing Elias.

The festival went on like that, us as a group and then using the buddy system. We played a few more games and Jonas won Elias a spinning top. June had gotten a mug with her warm cider and gushed to Jonas all about how Mister Captain Levi had come down from the skies to win the game for me. She even pointed out Levi, the rabbit, which got Jonas fuming. He claimed that if he was there, he’d win the game easily too. Elias had to remind him it took seven tries to get the spinning top and that sent the boy running back to the café, a lollipop in his mouth. At least he’d be tired out for his parents.

“Now, you three, here are your gifts. June, Elias, and Jonas. Open up.” I made sure mine was last to open. Elias and June came together and made Jonas and I both homemade snow globes with our initials in them. Jonas had gotten me a new recipe book and the kids both books, to which Elias had to really work to fake his happiness about it. It was a good laugh for Jonas and I as we asked him question after question about him liking the book. However, I was happy with myself knowing I took first place over Jonas, because last year I had lost to a red ball.

“Oh, thank you Miss Eva! It’s so pretty!” She held up the dress to her body and spun around. Jonas was the next to react when he saw the hair gel I had gotten him to pull off those ridiculous hairstyles he liked so much. Lastly, I looked over to Elias who was staring down with large eyes at his toy. He was the reaction I was anticipating the most. I had to tell Levi if he made the eight-year-old’s dream come true.

“June, look!” He held up the horse, his eyes still wide. While she had no interest in toys, she still admired it.

“That’s really cool, Elias.” He held up the soldier next, his arm stretched as high as it went.

“And there’s a matching Scout, too!” Jonas and I both looked at each other confused, knowing there was nothing on that soldier to indicate it was a Scout or even in the Royal Military. It had to be because the only soldiers he constantly sees on horses are the Scouts. To me, it wasn’t that bad that his new favorite toy was turning into a Scout. Maybe I should tell him a Scout bought it for him, too.

“Miss Eva, I like it so so so so so sooooooooooooooooooooo much!” He put the box on the floor and ran over to hug my leg that was dangling off the counter. My heart filled and I patted his head, leaning down with one arm to hug him. Levi would like his reaction, especially the Scout part. I think Jonas was a bit annoyed at Elias’s playing, so he looked at the clock and announced it was time for the kids to go home. I had to stay here to hand out late orders, so I ushered them out.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow! Don’t stay up all night reading, Elias!” He stuck his tongue out at me and I did it back. Both kids walked ahead of Jonas who stayed back at the door.

“Thank you for your gift, Ev.” I smiled back.

“You, too, Jonas. You’ll be the first one to try out something I make from the recipe book.”

“Can I suggest the cinnamon rolls?” I nodded and insured him I’d make them for him on Monday. He still stood there watching the kids walk their way down the street. He wasn’t going to..?

“Is there anything going on with you and Levi?” I almost choked on the air. Gods, I wish.

“No, Jonas. He just comes in for tea after an expedition.” That didn’t satisfy him.

“And takes you to the capital, and helps you make bread, and wins a game for you at the festival.” He sounded like a child having a temper tantrum.

“There’s nothing going on between us, Jonas. We’re just budding friends and I make things for the Scouts from time to time.” He narrowed his eyes and pointed to the box on my counter. This astounding common sense was getting annoying.

“Then who’s that gift for?” I had to come up with some lie quickly. If I told him it was for Levi, he’d never leave.

“The candy shop owner. He gives out so much free candy to those two on my request, I felt I needed to get him something.” He lowered his gaze and kicked a rock.

“I’d never think you’d lie to me like that, Ev.” My heart caught in my throat. That made me feel like shit. Especially since Levi was probably going to propel down from one of these buildings in a few minutes.

“The kids are going to get home before you can get to them. You should go.” He looked up at me and gave me one of the most heart wrenching looks. Ouch.

“I still like you… from that one time I told you when we were drunk. That wasn’t a lie. I’ll believe you for now… but I don’t think you’re telling the truth.” I was telling him the truth though. I left some things out, but there wasn’t anything between Levi and I. Did it frustrate me that there wasn’t anything? Yes. But I still wasn’t lying to Jonas. And now this unwarranted confession was making things worse. If Levi wasn’t here, Jonas wouldn’t have said anything and it wouldn’t be awkward between us now. I could live with knowing it from June, but now that he told me, it changed everything. I didn’t want that.

“I hope nothing changes, Jonas. I like babysitting the kids with you and talking to you when you come in to deliver things. Even if we do stay friends in the long run, I-” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the kids who had stopped walking when they noticed he never started.

“Friends friends or Levi friends?” This time I glared at him a bit, but he wasn’t looking at me. I knew if he stayed any longer, we’d get in a fight, and he’d get more disappointed if Levi decided to drop in in the middle of it. It was better to send him off now and fix it later.

“Goodnight Jonas. Happy year-end.” He just nodded once and took off after the kids. No goodnight, no year-end joke. I hoped I didn’t have to wake up to someone dragging him to my café drunk like last year.

Oh.

When he was drunk last year. That’s when he told me. He was making a tradition of it. He had just thrown up on the sidewalk when the people carrying couldn’t put him through the door and I was wiping the sweat off his forehead.

I closed the door, making sure it wasn’t locked, and went to sit back on the front countertop. Swinging my legs, I replayed the conversation in my head.

“Ev, you’re so good to me,” he slurred.

“Well, Jonas, you’re drunk on my doorstep. I can’t just leave you here.” He smiled and looked like he was going to throw up again. I backed up, but kept the wet rag on his forehead.

“When you’re done throwing up, you can come upstairs and I’ll give you some water.” He burped and I grimaced. Wasn’t he supposed to be having sex at his house with some random bar girl? Why was he so drunk and here?

“I’ll like that. Your couch is comfy.” I laughed a bit.

“Why are you so drunk? I thought you had a tradition of taking someone home.” He shook his head really fast, which was a horrible decision, and held it in both of his hands to try and stop the dizziness.

“I don’t want to bring anyone home but you,” He pointed to me and I gave him a confused look. He smelled so much of alcohol.

“I come to your house sometimes to pick up orders, Jonas.”

“No, no, no, no, no. Like. I want you to come so I can kiss you.” He turned over his left shoulder and threw up again. I patted his back and just nodded. Very, very drunk.

“Can I get my pastries or do I need to wait for you to stop daydreaming?” I jumped and looked at the uniform clad man in front of me. He didn’t even knock.

“Oh, sorry. They’re cooling right now. I baked them in the last hour.” I also timed it just right so that he’d have to stay a few minutes and open his present, but he didn’t need to know that. I just sat there and drank in his uniformed look. It was much better than his usual black slacks.

“Is that the cape I wore?” He grabbed a chair and sat down right in front of me, back of the chair leaning on the table. He assumed his lounging position.

“Yes, you also left it crumpled on the floor. Don’t think I didn’t notice you stole one of my shirts, too. I woke you up, didn’t I?” He rather rudely ripped the covers off of me and kicked the bedpost three times, yes I do recall. It really ruined the ruse of the dream I had of him that night.

“Do you want it back? I’m sure the other fifteen are missing it.” He squinted his eyes.

“I’ll have you know if anyone finds out a civilian has my issued military gear with them, I’d get in trouble.” Oh, so we weren’t pretending right now.

“The military counts your clothes?” He sighed and switched his lounging leg. I looked to the side at the medium sized box wrapped in red fabric. I guess it was now or never.

“I have your gift,” I picked up the box and hopped off the counter. He stared at it for a few seconds before taking it and just sitting it on his lap. Was he not… ?Does he not know… ?

“Open it,” I waved my hand at the gift and he hesitated.

“I want to give you my gift first.” That really set the butterflies off in my stomach. The stoic, mean, scary Captain Levi actually got me a gift like he said and it wasn’t a lie to go to the capital with me? I was buzzing with warmth. I closed my eyes and held my hands out.

“What are you doing?” I could tell he didn’t move. Does he really not know how gifting works?

“My gift, Captain.” I wriggled my fingers.

“Oh, yeah.” This time he moved and I felt him place a circle in my hands. It felt similar to the shape of Jonas’s hair gel. He didn’t get me hair gel, did he? I felt it with my eyes closed again, taking a good guess.

“Is it… candies?” He groaned like this was taking too long.

“Just open your eyes, I don’t have all night.” I opened them and looked down at the jar in my hands. It was quite thoughtful of him and a very practical gift. It made my heart sing and I couldn’t hide my smile.

“S-some... Scout, he, um, he recommended it after I asked how to get rid of dry skin. They said this was the only thing that worked for them. A-And I know you’ve been looking for something… So…” I opened it right away and put it on my hands. Wow, this felt really smooth and it smelled like roses, “D-Do... you like it?” That statement made his voice raise up a bit. He didn’t want me to know that he definitely wanted to feel good about his gift.

“I love it, thank you, Levi. If it really does get rid of the cracks in my skin, you’ll have to thank that Scout too. Now open yours!” I waved my hands again, rushing him as I stood in front of him. He slowly undid the tie that held the fabric on the wooden box and it was almost like he was looking at a bomb when he went to open it. Slow and controlled. Did he think I would buy him something that popped out at him?

When he opened it all the way, he just stared. This made my smile drop. Great. Who was I to expect a big reaction out of this man? He could be screaming in his head right now and I would never know.

He picked it up out of the box and ran his hand along the simple blue design. When he looked up at me, there was just a little shred of emotion in his eyes, I’m sure I saw it. Something that wasn’t indifference. It just wasn’t there long enough for me to get a real good look at it. I just wanted him to say something so I didn’t have to prompt him into a lie. He took out the cup next and did the same thing, inspecting the design and the porcelain.

“How much did you pay for this?” Well, that was an annoying first reaction. No “thanks, Eva” or anything.

“It doesn’t matter. I saw it and thought about you. You probably have a lot of tea kettles and cups at HQ, but I guess if you ever get peppermint tea you can use-”

“I… I like it. I like it a lot actually. I only have one set at the HQ and it’s from the Underground. This one is… much better.” That was good enough for me. It brought my smile back and I clasped my hands together. I think I was more excited than he was about the gift.

I clapped my hands and he looked up at me again. There it was that same shred of some type of Levi emotion that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“Well, I think the desserts are cool if you want to take them.” I turned around to go and put the Scout’s treats in a nice paper box but he grabbed my wrist. I swear I made a noise out loud which was me reacting to Levi touching me for one of the first times. Damn, how did I hide this a few months ago? And if he came up to my apartment later, how was I going to handle that? In all of his visits the past week, he always had to get back to HQ, but I knew that after his security detail wasn’t needed, he would come to the café and stay one night. What was I going to do then?

“Can you make me tea?” I slowly looked up from his grasp on my wrist and smiled at him.

“What about your party?” It’s not that I wanted him to leave, it’s just if he kept looking at me with those eyes I was in trouble.

“They can wait. Dessert isn’t till they’ve all drank themselves to death.” He’s a hard bargainer, I guess he has to stay for at least a cup.

“Okay,” I took the tea set from him and set it up on the stove. I pulled out a cup for myself too as the set only had one. He didn’t say anything as I made the peppermint tea, he just watched me from his chair. The stare this time was almost overwhelming. I had just given him a gift, he liked it, and he asked me to make tea with it. There also had to be something said for him not caring enough about the officer party to stay here. I most definitely kept my back to him so he couldn’t see the harsh red that painted my face. It didn’t help that I could feel his stare from behind me.

“Do you not drink much?” I broke to silence because I was going to go crazy or have a heart attack. He shifted behind me.

“I drink, just not with people I don’t like. The Garrison Officers are also attending.” I nodded and noted the one Captain who comes to my café on his morning shifts. I wouldn’t want to drink with them too.

“I don’t blame you. They come in here sometimes. Loud.” He hummed in agreement and I just watched the tea brew. It felt like these minutes were taking hours.

“Why do you ask? You want to drink with me?” I finally turned around and put my hands up; the same way I did when we had the bed misunderstanding.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I was just asking that’s all. I-I mean I’m not against it, if you’re asking just in general. I drink too. Not a lot because I’m working, but I can if I want to, yeah.” I turned back around and cursed at myself. Great at hiding that. Now Levi was gaining points in my game.

“Sure, I’ll drink with you sometime. I can probably drink you under the table.” Man, everything had to be a contest. Such a competitive boy. I finally gained composure to turn around and join him and the table with the tea. Thank gods I closed the front windows.

“I don’t know. I can outdrink Jonas on a good day.” He rolled his eyes and took his first sip out of the new cup. It looked like it fit his weird grip well.

“I’m sure anyone can outdrink that idiot.”

“You don’t even know him and you’re calling him an idiot. In fact, he has great common sense.” He smirked and took another sip, probably to stifle some insult he had lined up.

“Usually when they say you have common sense, they mean you’re an idiot.” Nope, it was not stifled. It was just simmering. I couldn’t disagree with that statement.

“Did you enjoy the festival?” He shrugged and switched legs again.

“I was having an okay time watching from above when I saw this one girl losing terribly. I had to go save her from that fate.” Levi, the bunny, was still sitting on the counter too.

“What a damsel in distress! I’m sure she’s glad you saved her from the judgement of prepubescent boys. You even got them wanting to come to the café.” He tched again.

“Why were you with them anyways? The girl looked uncomfortable.” I set my cup down on the table and rested my elbow on the table.

“That girl’s name is June and she likes one of the boys in that group. I was just teasing her. You helped her cause too because I told the boys to ask her when you came to my café. You might have them at your ankles the next time you come.” He groaned and put his cup down too. It was still half full, which meant he wasn’t leaving yet.

“So you get a stuffed animal and I get a bunch of brats at my neck. That’s how the damsel in distress thanks her knight.” Maybe he didn’t mean it, but when he said her knight, as in possessive, I read into it a bit too much. I’m sure he meant nothing by it.

“Well I gave you the tea set so it evens out.” He shook his head, tapping the table.

“No, you got the tea set before you even knew about this game. You can’t opt out.”

“Hey, hey, hey who paid for you to even play that game to begin with? Me.” He shook his head again, adamant about his equal exchange.

“Exactly. You paid, I gave the rodent. You gave those brats my location, I’ve gotten nothing in return.” It was my turn to tch him as I leaned more forward, head resting in my hands. He did the same, but just one elbow and he wasn’t sitting crisscrossed.

“They aren’t brats, they’re kids.”

“Same thing.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Arguing with him was so fun to do. It was a weird thing to like, but it was fun. It wasn’t arguing, but bickering. Maybe it would seem annoying to the people around us, but trying to prove Levi wrong, the person who thinks he’s always right, was a feat I was happy to take on.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” I shook my head, eyes still closed.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?” You.

I took another deep breath trying to silence my heart. My eyes snapped open.

“Cedar.” That was the third one. Mint tea, lemon soap, and cedar. I had gotten close enough to him to figure it out. It had to be the countless ODM trainings in the trees.

“You’re thinking about trees?” It was the way his breath hit my face that I knew he was close. I didn’t want to look over and lock eyes with him because I knew if I did the heart that I worked so hard to silence would start up again. No, Levi, I’m thinking about you, but I just can’t come out and tell you that.

“Yeah.” He huffed, air again hitting my face, and I just stayed looking at the tea set. This time, I was even nervous to look at him. Not a lot of things flew past Levi, so if he saw how I reacted to our closeness he would think something was up. I wasn’t ready to give this up yet… or was I?

I mean I said that I sorted out my feelings. And if I was going to not act like a schoolgirl, like I had promised myself, then I could look at him and not get starstruck or anything. What was any different from a few months ago to now? He’s been in my house multiple times and I’ve slept a few feet away. What was the point of being meek about it? Yeah, I was going to do it.

When I looked at him, he had his eyes closed. Damn, there goes that pep talk. It was like he was sleeping. Peaceful. No harsh lines. Everything was calm and serene for him. He looked so handsome just sitting here like that. The moonlight casting down on his face from the side window didn’t help my feelings. Nor did the fact that he was staying here with me and not with the officers. Or the fact that he had swoop down and been my knight at the festival… This man was trying to kill me.

I leaned in. Apparently, we had lost all self control in those few moments looking at him, but, come on, how was I supposed to control myself when he was looking like that? I didn’t know what I was even doing kissing him like that because I knew he wouldn’t react any other way than he did. I set myself up for failure.

His lips were soft and tasted like tea and I only got to kiss them for maybe two or three seconds before he realized what was going on. He didn’t kiss back and I think he just opened his eyes, studied the situation, and sat back when he realized. I didn’t look up at him after. I just closed my eyes and positioned my head to the ground. Him pulling away like that was telling enough. I’d lost and ruined the game we were playing. There was no way to pretend now and Levi only wanted to pretend. Nevermind my racing heart.

“D-Do, um, do you have the, um, what are they called? The pastries? For the party?” His voice was low and I swore at myself that I didn’t just give them to him before and let him go. He was the one who asked for tea.

“Yeah.” It was breathy and I didn’t look at him when I stood up and went to put the turnovers in the paper box. I even labeled it To the Officers of the Scouts. Now I felt so stupid in doing that. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I shouldn’t have kissed him.

I handed it to him and he didn’t say anything. The door closed, signaling that he was gone. I let out a long groan and sank down behind the counter hoping I could hide from everything. The chairs and the tables saw it. They were laughing at me. I really thought I could kiss Captain Levi and get away with it. The man who doesn’t even know what emotions were was going to sort them out in time to kiss me back? No.

I guess it was six months. That’s how long it took till the Captain didn’t come back.

Chapter Seven→

Chapter Masterlist

A double update for you all :) What do you think’s going to happen to them? Hehe.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x reader #snk levi #levi attack on titan #levi x oc #aot #aot levi #snk #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi heichou #captain levi #original character

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five-rivers · 5 years ago

Text

Adoption

Based on a prompt by @fabnamessuggestedbytumbler for the Phic Phight! An excuse for Lost Time fluff? Don't mind if I do...

The Ghost Zone had a legal system. A court system. A prison system. A police system. A set of established rules. There were even lawyers.

In theory.

In reality the courts (Observants) refused to look at anything that wasn't world ending. Every group had their own, private prison. The police made up their own rules and, even then, broke them regularly. The actual rules had gone several hundred years without an update and referred to places, organizations, and customs that no longer existed. The lawyers were all clinically depressed. That's what happens when there's no active, unifying head of state for hundreds of years.

Still. Every so often a sufficiently foolish ghost, possessed of a brave purpose, would attempt to navigate the ruins of the legal system. Few made it out alive.

(True, being ghosts, they didn't necessarily go into it alive, but it's the thought that counts.)

But those who did make it out (metaphorically) alive, did so with prizes... well, not great enough, but something enough to convince others to make the attempt. Hence Clockwork's current location and headache.

"Sign the paper, Walker," snapped Clockwork.

"That would be against the rules," said Walker, leaning back in his stupid chair. Clockwork's nonexistent spine hurt just from looking at it.

Maybe he should give himself a spine, just so he'd have a reason to feel this way.

"How," he began, "would it be against the rules? This form needs to be signed by a law enforcement official that has seen or witnessed conclusive evidence the child in question being abused by their natural parents. That is you."

"Yes, but the law enforcement officer must first get a warrant approved by an appropriate court in order to collect such evidence," countered Walker.

"Not if the official came across the evidence or act of abuse while pursuing a different case or simply following standard operating procedure. You saw them shoot at him. His mother put a gun to his head. Have mercy, Walker. I know you don't like him, but he is a child who needs guidance. Not a criminal."

"He's a criminal in my books," said Walker.

"What he did was hardly a crime."

"Jailbreak is a crime!"

"Not if one is unjustly imprisoned," said Clockwork. "He was attempting to remove the foreign object." No matter that possessing material-plane items wasn't an actual crime.

"He let others escape!"

"And what were they imprisoned for?"

Walker grumbled. "Some of them are dangerous, and even he knew that," said Walker, nodding at the file spread over his desk.

"Consider it a cry for help. While you were watching him," stalking him, Clockwork did not say, "on the material plane, did he really strike you as criminally inclined? Or perhaps he was simply confused and scared? One thousand years is a very long time in human terms. The targets of his Obsession would have died. Even if he did commit a misdemeanor, he would have rightly been granted clemency, or at least had his sentence deferred."

Walker frowned.

"That's not what this is about, is it? You covering up a mistake?"

"No," said Walker.

Clockwork blinked, quickly running through potential futures. "No one will care that you crossed the veil without authorization. No one who can do anything about it, in any case."

"There'll be an investigation if I sign that there piece of paper. What's the big deal, anyway? Like you said, humans don't live that long. Just wait fifty years."

"They almost ended him," said Clockwork. "He's a child. Do you really want that on your conscience? With the knowledge that you could have stopped it?"

Sighing, Walker picked up his pen.

Danny went to school. Mainly, he went because he didn't know what else to do. He needed the routine, even if the routine was a lie and he felt like trash.

"You could have stayed," whispered Sam, as his hand inched towards the bandages on his chest for the fifth time that morning. "They wouldn't have noticed you."

Danny shook his head. His hand shook more. He put it back in his lap. "It wouldn't have been right. Besides, I need a passing grade in this class, right?" He couldn't get another F, or his parents would kill him, except- except- except-

They had already tried to kill him.

Everything had gone so much worse than he had ever imagined- No. That wasn't quite right. It had gone- It had...

At least he hadn't been cut open.

(Much.)

"Mr. Fenton?"

Danny jumped, banging his knees painfully on the underside of his desk. He looked up, wildly, tensing himself to flee, only the fact that he was currently human keeping his powers from activating.

(Well, that and... what had been done to him.)

When had Mr. Lancer gotten there?

"What?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Are- Are you alright, Mr. Fenton?"

"I'm fine," Danny said. He wasn't. His ghost half was urging him to go find a nice, dark, quiet, safe corner to hide in, preferably one in the Ghost Zone, his heart was hammering out of his chest, he'd spent the night not-sleeping in one of the guestrooms in Sam's house, and that was before even touching on his injuries.

He forced a smile. Mr. Lancer was one of the few teachers who hadn't given up on him, which was alternately touching and frustrating.

"You look sick," said Mr. Lancer. "Are you sure you don't want to call home?"

Danny's heart stuttered, his core painfully cold. "I'm sure," he said.

"Today is a project day," said Mr. Lancer. "You wouldn't be missing anything in this class, and I can talk to your other teachers."

"No, I'm fine."

The legal clerk for the family court was the kind of ghost who seemed to have fused with her role. The sleeves and collar of her shirt melded seamlessly with her skin. Her nails were brass pen nibs. The lenses of her glasses were part of her face.

She lived in either the basement or the attic of this particular building, depending on how one oriented themselves, among barely-organized stacks of books and papers. There were parchment scrolls and stone tablets, too, the later often re-purposed as elements of the room's furniture. Green-marbled filing cabinets grew out of the walls, and electronic somethings glittered out of the shadows.

The clerk had been reviewing Clockwork's paperwork for literal days. Rather, she would have been, if Clockwork hadn't surreptitiously dropped a time medallion around her neck and stopped time.

She hummed, thoughtfully. "In this document, you are using the pronoun tsai to refer to the adoptee. Are you certain you don't mean tusui? Or perhaps chahe?"

"Absolutely," said Clockwork. The intimation that he wasn't fluent in nchabhatsi was insulting. On the other hand, the requirement for that particular piece of paperwork to be in the language was also, in his opinion, rather ridiculous. Many ghosts, especially the recently dead, did not know nchabhatsi.

"The adoptee is liminal?"

"Yes," said Clockwork.

"Hmm." She stood up and flew from her desk to an inverted bookshelf anchored to the ceiling. From a box she took a huge sheaf of papers, and blew an amount of dust from them that was unhealthy even to a ghost. "It has been a while since we used these," she said, giving Clockwork a faded-ivory smile. "You'll need to fill these out and have them notarized by the proper officials before you can proceed. Liminal spirits are so rare, after all! They require special care. Oh!" Her hands fluttered. "And I'll have to get in contact with our liminality expert. That may take some time."

"If you can give me their name," said Clockwork, "I will take care of it." He gingerly took the stack of slightly-decayed paper. Had it really been so long since a partly-human child had been adopted? Probably.

"Oh, you're such a dear," said the clerk, not noticing the sudden absence of the medallion around her neck. "But that paperwork won't do itself, and-"

"It's done," said Clockwork. Fulfilling some of the new requirements had been more challenging than others and avoiding a paradox had taken considerable self-control, but what good were his temporal abilities if he couldn't use them for personal gain now and again? None at all.

"Ah," said the clerk.

Familiar, and very loud, voices spilled from the hallway near the office. Danny, one hand on his locker, trying to remember his combination, froze like a deer in headlights. His heartbeat picked up, his core buzzed frantically. He couldn't move. Grey crept in along the edges of his vision.

"... not him. It was never him! He's dead-"

"Mrs. Fenton, Mr. Fenton, I'm not sure what you're getting at, here, but your son has been at school all day, and we-"

"A ghost killed him and took his place! It's been playing a sick game with us this whole time!"

"Danny would never have gotten grades like this. We should have noticed the lower intellect right away, if nothing else."

"That's-" spluttered Mr. Lancer. "You- Daniel's work is exemplary, what little of it he turns in. I'm going to have to ask you to go back to the office-"

"No! Not until that piece of ectoplasmic scum is wiped from the face of the Earth!"

"Danny," said Tucker, much closer. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Right. Ghostly super hearing. Tucker and Sam, staring at him with concern, couldn't know.

"They're here," he managed, the words like sandpaper in his throat.

Sam uttered a word that would have sent her mother into a screeching fit. "We need to get you out of here," she said putting a hand on his back and pushing him down the hall.

"I'll run interference," said Tucker. "Make sure they can't follow you in the GAV."

"Good thinking," said Sam.

"Call me when you're safe," said Tucker, peeling off, presumably to hack the GAV.

"Danny, breathe," ordered Sam, as she propelled him through the double doors at the back of the school. "We're going to get you through this."

Clockwork had resorted to trapping the legal complex in a massive temporal bubble. Not the neatest solution, true, and it seemed to encourage the various functionaries, regulators, and bureaucrats to take even more time to process even the simplest request, but at least it would keep Daniel's suffering in the meantime to a minimum.

However, that didn't change the fact that he had been bouncing back and forth between the various floors of the building like a ping-pong ball, never getting closer to the solitary family court judge, for well over a subjective year. He was exhausted, frustrated, and he missed Daniel.

"You will be able to provide steady, stable access to the adoptee's preferred haunt?" asked his present interviewer.

"Yes," said Clockwork, dully. The room was ringed with runes that prevented deception of any kind.

"You will be able to provide shelter adequate for both his ghostly and human form?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. He had answered these questions so many times before.

"You have taken the mandated class on liminality?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. He was beginning to understand why other ghosts just gave up and sought extralegal solutions.

"You are aware of a liminal spirit's developmental and emotional needs?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. This was just so boring.

"And are you able to satisfy those needs?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. If only it would end.

The interviewer nodded. "Then we're done here," he said.

"Ye- What? Does that mean I can see the judge?" asked Clockwork, hopefully.

"No. That means that your adoption motion can move on to the next stage," said the interviewer. "Our liminality expert will examine your arrangements and determine whether or not they are sufficient, and we will contact law enforcement to follow up on your claim that the adoptee is being abused."

Clockwork bit back a groan. At least he was making progress.

They cut through the empty field behind the school, angling back toward the surrounding neighborhood. The grass came up to their chests, except where there were holes, mounds, and gouges from ghost fights. When there was one in the school, Danny tried to bring it out here, so people wouldn't get hurt.

He wasn't often successful.

Sam led the way. Danny felt- He felt ashamed. If his powers were working, he would be able to fly them away, or at least turn them invisible. This would all be so much easier. He could have taken care of himself, and Sam and Tucker wouldn't get in trouble, because they would definitely get in trouble for this. But he couldn't.

He couldn't even convince his parents that he was himself. He had to screw that up, too.

Before, he had thought, worse case scenario would be that they'd try to 'fix' him, to remove his ghost half, or maybe they'd think he was overshadowed. At least, he'd convinced himself of that, convinced himself that dissection would be off the table if he ever told them, that they would still love him. Maybe they might still want to do tests, but they'd love him. They wouldn't want to hurt him.

But he had been so, so wrong. They didn't believe him. They thought he had killed himself, replaced himself.

They had tried to cut him open.

(They succeeded.)

His core shuddered at the memory.

At least, though, there hadn't been any ghost attacks today. He wouldn't have been able to fight anything stronger than the Box Ghost. Heck, he might have lost to the Box Ghost. Like this, he would have to leave the ghosts to his parents, Valerie, or the GIW, none of which were particularly good options for the hunters, the ghosts, or the innocent bystanders of Amity Park.

His core pulsed uncomfortably at the thought of any of them getting hurt, including his parents.

He flinched. His core had been very jumpy, very active ever since... it... happened. Usually it only did this while he was in ghost form, and was otherwise almost dormant.

"Are you okay?" asked Sam. "Is it hurting?" She was the one who had bandaged him up last night.

"We can't stop now," said Danny.

Sam flattened her lips. "That isn't an answer. As soon as we get somewhere quiet, I'm checking you out, okay?"

"Yeah," said Danny.

When they reached the short fence, Sam gave him a boost to get over and they made their way into the suburb. There was a small library branch down the road a ways. It had a small family bathroom that Sam and Tucker had patched Danny up in before. It would be a good place to regroup before trying to put as much distance between them and Danny's parents as possible.

"We could take the city bus, I think," said Sam. "There's a stop outside the library. Maybe we could go to Elmerton?"

"Maybe," said Danny.

"Any ETA on Jazz since last night?"

Danny shook his head. "She couldn't get a flight. She's taking a Greyhound. Won't be here 'til-"

There was a beep. Danny stopped breathing. That could have been anything, a phone, a watch, a car, something from a building, but something about it tickled at Danny's brain as wrong.

"There is a ghost twenty feet in front of you."

The whine of a charging ectogun-

Sam slammed into his side, and they both fell. Danny felt the cut on his chest begin to bleed again, and he curled around it protectively. It hurt so much more than it should, and Danny wondered if that was because ghosts were ultimately shaped by their minds and his was in so much pain right now.

His parents had just shot at him. From behind. Not ghost him, Phantom him, either. Human him.

They hated him. All of him. Not just half of him.

His ghost sense went off. Because things could always get worse for Danny and the universe apparently hated him.

He struggled into a sitting position and blinked, confused. There were people surrounding him, protecting him, standing between him and his parents. Sam was shouting. Danny couldn't make out what she was saying, what anyone was saying, not with his heart pounding in his ears.

"Kid," said one man, shaking his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Danny considered that. "No," he said, finally.

The man pulled a phone from his pocket and began saying something about calling the hospital. Normally, Danny would be worried about that, but he was looking for the ghosts. It was possible one of the more benevolent spirits that haunted Amity Park had happened across the scene, but, somehow, Danny doubted it.

His ghost sense went off again. He whimpered.

His people were in danger.

Ghosts usually came for him (he was leading them here, an evil ghost, causing all this trouble, murderer), or at least attacked him first, to get rid of him as a threat. He staggered to his feet. He had to get away. Still clutching his chest, he turned and bolted.

Almost at once, he was surrounded by ghosts in police gear. Walker's goons. Definitely stronger than the Box Ghost. Still, he was going to at least try to fight. He put his fists up. Maybe some of them would be dumb enough not to phase out of the way of his stupid human punches.

Then Walker himself descended from the sky.

"Daniel," he said, stiffly.

"Walker," returned Danny. A small part of him was grateful that Walker hadn't called him Phantom and spilled his secret. It was strange, but no ghost had ever seemed particularly inclined to do that, despite how easy it would have been.

"We have a court order to take you into custody," said Walker. "Someone wants to ask you a few questions."

Danny decided today's mood was 'pointless bravado and defiance.' "And why would I want to come with- whoa."

As Danny talked, Walker had taken a piece of paper with strange symbols written on it in green ink out from the inside pocket of his jacket. The symbols made his head spin... Or maybe that was just his injuries catching up with him. His left leg was trembling, and he wasn't sure how much longer it would hold out.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and focused on Walker. "I have no idea what that says."

Walker sighed. "Just come quietly, son. Make it easier on yourself."

Danny swallowed his discomfort at being called 'son.' "You won't hurt anyone else?" he asked.

"I'm just here for you."

There really wasn't much of a choice. Whether he went quietly or got himself beaten up even more, Walker would win and carry him off. Anyone could see that. Besides, ghost prison might be a better alternative than getting dissected by his parents.

He raised his hands in front of him, wrists together. "Go ahead, then," said Danny, flatly.

Walker nodded, and the goons converged on him. The cuffs they put around his wrists glowed green, but they had weight in a way most purely ghostly things didn't. Danny doubted that he'd be able to phase his way out of them, human or ghost. Then they picked him up and the whole swarm started to fly away.

"Yes, this is my lair," said Clockwork. "I can, however, duplicate and be both here and at the secondary residence I acquired expressly for the purpose of ensuring continuity of Daniel's human life."

The 'liminality expert' grunted. "He's still been here, though, hasn't he?"

"Yes," said Clockwork. "He has."

"And he might be here again in the future."

"Yes. I do plan to have him here, for short periods of time."

"And later, when he sheds his human life?"

"Perhaps."

"Then I need to know, are these up to OSHA standards? Your entire lair needs to be up to OSHA standards."

"They're time viewers and tools for unraveling paradoxes. OSHA, even the OSHA of the far future, does not regulate these items," said Clockwork. "Why, in the name of time, do you even need to know? Surely, OSHA didn't even exist the last time a liminal child was adopted."

"Well," said the expert, slightly sheepish. "No. But regulations state that all residences must be safe for children by both human and ghost standards."

"Then OSHA is not what you should be using," said Clockwork. "OSHA is the set of rules for occupational health and safety."

"Ah," said the expert. "Then we can move right along to the next check mark, shall we?"

"Hi," said a cheerful voice.

Danny looked up from his contemplation of the examination room table and glared balefully at the ghost who had just entered the door. They didn't seem to be affected. But then, why would they be? Danny was handcuffed to the table and clearly not a threat.

"I'm the interviewer," said the featureless ghost. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No," said Danny.

"Well," said the interviewer, "I work for the eighth authorized family court of the Infinite Realms, we're actually the only one right now, but there used to be more, and a little while ago, an adoption request was filed on your behalf."

Danny blinked and made a face. "You mean, someone stole my identity in ghost court?"

"No, no," said the interviewer, waving one amorphous hand. "Not at all. I mean to say, I ghost filed a request to legally adopt you."

"Who?" asked Danny. "Not Vlad?" Vlad was the only ghost he could think of who had demonstrated any interest in adopting him.

"No, that's not the name listed here."

"Plasmius?" asked Danny, still cringing internally.

"No."

"Then who?"

"Clockwork."

"What, seriously?" Danny liked Clockwork, and he liked to think that Clockwork liked him back, that they were friends, but the older ghost always seemed somewhat aloof.

"Yes, he was very serious. Now. I have a number of questions I need to ask you." They took out a small, glowing crystal, and set it on the table. "Do you know what this is?"

"No?" said Danny.

"It's a record crystal," said the ghost. "But one of its other functions is that it can sense deception, and record when in an interview it is being used. Go ahead, say something you know is false."

"I... like toast?"

The crystal's glow dimmed slightly before returning to its previous level.

"There, see? Very useful, don't you think?"

"I guess," said Danny. He didn't know how to feel about this. Any of this. What would ghost adoption even mean? He trusted Clockwork, but this felt like too much, too fast. He hadn't even properly processed what had happened with his parents a few hours ago.

"Right. So. We'll start with an easy one, then. Is your name Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom, also known as Danny Phantom, or simply Danny or Phantom?"

"Yes," said Danny, eyeing the crystal warily.

"And what would you prefer to go by, for the purposes of this interview?"

"Phantom," said Danny.

"Alright then, Phantom," said the interviewer, "could you please tell me where you primarily reside?"

"Fentonworks," said Danny, "in Amity Park." So far, he hadn't really had a reason to lie. All of this was common knowledge for both his human and ghostly acquaintances.

"And what would you consider to be your haunt?"

"My what?"

"Your haunt. The territory that you have metaphysically claimed."

"I- I don't really understand."

"Is there an area that you feel compelled to defend against hostile persons? An area in which non-hostile ghosts defer to you?"

"I- Yeah. I guess. Amity Park. And some of the bits around it, too."

"The entire city?"

"I guess? I don't know," said Danny. "Is that weird?"

"It would be unusual," said the interviewer.

Danny really wished the interviewer had an expression he could read. Or even just something approximating a face.

"Now, do you feel safe in your home? In 'Fentonworks?'"

The correct answer to that question would be no, but he wasn't sure he should answer. What if this was some kind of elaborate trick?

"We can come back to that," said the interviewer. "Are there any other places where you do feel safe?"

"I mean, sure?" said Danny. He fidgeted.

"Would you please share some of those places?"

"School, I guess?" Except that he got beaten up there all the time and his parents had hunted him down there and he had to escape and... Yeah.

The crystal dimmed. Danny grimaced.

"Ah," said the interviewer. "Anywhere else?"

"My friends houses," said Danny. "And the Far Frozen." To his relief, this time, the crystal stayed bright.

"Have you ever been to Clockwork's lair?"

"Yeah," said Danny. He slouched in the chair as much as possible. He wasn't sure he should be answering these questions, but he was. Maybe he should stop.

"Do you feel safe there?"

"Not at first, but now I do."

"I see. Why not at first?"

"Clockwork and I didn't meet on great terms and we sort of got into a fight." Maybe that would get the interviewer to stop. They'd decide Clockwork couldn't adopt him and leave. Did Danny want that? He wasn't sure.

"That's more common than one might expect. But you feel safe with him now?"

"Yes."

"Alright, moving on. How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

There was a long, drawn out silence that managed to be skeptical despite the interviewer's lack of a face.

"I know I'm small," said Danny, insulted, "but I am sixteen."

"Excuse my indelicacy, but... how old were you when you died?"

Danny flushed. "Fourteen," he bit out.

"Then you're fourteen."

"It was two years ago. I'm sixteen."

"Fourteen is your natural age," said the ghost. "A ghost's natural age is the age they died at."

"Yeah, but I'm still half human. I'm still aging. So I'm sixteen."

The interviewer shook their head. "As a liminal spirit, your apparant age range is likely larger than a normal child's would be, but your natural age, your true age, is still fourteen. Based on records of liminals, the highest extent of your age range is most likely to be either twenty-one or twenty-eight. That's part of the reason we investigate official adoption request so thoroughly. The relationship may very well last for thousands of years, if not forever."

"Wait, are you saying I could live forever?" asked Danny, incredulous. This was not how he wanted to find out he was immortal. Heck, he didn't want to be immortal.

"I'll admit, my understanding of liminality isn't perfect, but I believe that is the case. Why? Is that problematic?"

"The results of the law enforcement investigation have come back," said the bureaucrat to whom Clockwork was currently assigned. "As well as an inquiry as to the opinion of the mortal law enforcement arm."

"And?" asked Clockwork. "Their findings?"

The bureaucrat, who had up until that point not displayed evidence that xe possessed any emotions whatsoever, made a face of extreme disgust. "When the officers found the child, the human parents were openly shooting at him. Other humans intervened for long enough for law enforcement to pick him up. Of course, they then felt the need to arrest him and carry him away in handcuffs... I have no idea why I keep at this job, really I don't."

Clockwork's core shifted in worry. His first impulse was to leap up and go comfort Daniel, but he suppressed it. If he left now, he would lose his place in line and have to start over.

"The public nature of the event means that the human police are now investigating the child's circumstances and may recommend that the child be removed from his human parents' custody. If you have a human identity and you are able to gain custody of him there, it will aid your case here."

"I am aware," said Clockwork.

"Well, then," xe said. "I believe this is all in order. Here is your ticket to see the judge. Just show it to the door. You know where it is?"

"I do," said Clockwork, rising.

He had walked by the door several times in his dealings with the various clerks and notaries. The room behind it lay directly in the heart of the family court building, all the other rooms and residents armor for this one.

The door itself was made of dark wood full of eye-shaped knots. As Clockwork approached the door, the eyes opened, watching him. He held up the ticket and the doors swung inward.

Inside was a courtroom, complete with benches, tables, a witness stand, a courtroom recorder, a judge's box, and a judge.

The judge was a one-eyed ghost in pale purple robes. She examined Clockwork.

"We had not foreseen this," she said. "Not until you filed the first motion."

"You were never able to see me clearly," said Clockwork, hoping this would not turn into a power play between himself and the Observants. "Did you receive the relevant paper work, your honor?"

"Yes," she said. "Take a seat, Lord Clockwork."

Clockwork flew to the front of the courtroom and settled himself in the applicant's chair.

The judge leaned forward. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Because I love Daniel, and I believe he deserves more care and protection than he is currently receiving from his biological parents."

The judge waved a clawed hand. "Yes, yes. But you didn't have to go through all of this and get to me in order to do that. You could have just taken him. That's what most people do, nowadays. Ever since the King was sealed and our systems of governance began to decay."

"I believe it is the only way Daniel will truly be safe," said Clockwork, meeting her one eye calmly.

"You want to prevent us from 'interfering.'"

"That would be nice, yes," agreed Clockwork.

"You want this to be binding," accused the judge.

"You say that like it is a bad thing," said Clockwork. "But what else could induce him to fully remove himself from that situation? You see how they treat him. Have you looked at the medical report, yet?"

"I have," said the judge, looking at her desk. "Very well. All the paperwork is in order. I am approving you for a one-month trial period. At the end of the trial period, the status of the child will be assessed. If his state is found to be acceptable, the adoption will be approved and bound. If it is not, this court will take custody of him until such a time as an appropriate guardian can be found." She scribbled something on a piece of paper and then hit it with a stamp. "The probationary bond should be active. You may go."

"Thank you, your honor."

After the end of the interview, which had become much more distressing than Danny wanted to admit, one of Walker's goons showed up and took him away, to another room.

This room was different than any of the other rooms he had seen in Walker's prison. For one, the walls were a soft, pastel green with purple accents, not the harsh, neon pink of elsewhere in the facility. The chairs looked soft, and were arranged almost randomly, clustered in little groups, or around tables. There were colored pencils and crayons on and occasionally floating over the tables. A large basket sat in one corner, overflowing with toys of various sizes.

Alright. Danny was confused.

He let the goon- the... officer?- guide him into one of the chairs and put a stuffed rabbit on his lap.

"I- I don't understand," said Danny. "What's going on?"

"Didn't that interviewer guy tell you?"

"He said I was being adopted," said Danny, who still hadn't wrapped his head around that particular tidbit of information. "But I thought- I was under arrest?" He raised his cuffed hands. "You arrested me?"

"Those're just so you don't run away," said the ghost. He ruffled Danny's hair. "You're not under arrest. We're just waiting for the court to decide what to do with you."

"And what if they don't do anything with me?"

"Then it's up to the boss."

"Oh," said Danny, not liking the sound of that at all.

"But, if it helps, I think that the court probably will decide to do something with you."

It didn't really help, no.

"Do you want a lollipop?"

"Sure," said Danny. It wasn't like this day could get much weirder.

The ghost handed him a lime dumdum. Yeah. That was about what he expected there, honestly.

The sensation of a thick, weighted blanket being draped over his mind hit him with such intensity that he looked around, trying to see if someone had just wrapped him up in a blanket without him noticing. Tension bled out of his muscles, and his core finally stopped the angry/depressed/frightened/pained dance it was doing in his chest.

He felt... protected. Which was wrong, because he was in Walker's prison, and Walker would use any excuse he had to keep Danny imprisoned for a thousand years. Danny was not safe here. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

And yet, that feeling remained.

He brushed his fingers over the bandages over his chest. What was wrong with him? His parents hadn't even cut all the way through, but he was so messed up. He didn't understand.

This feeling... This 'safety'... It felt like a cruel joke more than anything else, only it was one he couldn't escape from because it was coming from inside him and he was calm but he was also crying.

"Oh, heck, do you not like lime? I think I have some green apples-?"

The door to the room opened, and Danny looked up. Before he could register who had come in, he was swept up into a hug.

He blinked into silky purple cloth. "Clockwork?" he croaked.

"I'm here," said Clockwork. "It's fine. You're safe now, Daniel."

Danny pushed away. Clockwork let him. "You're adopting me?" asked Danny.

"Yes," said Clockwork. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Why?" asked Danny. "I don't understand. I didn't think you liked me that much."

"I like you very much," reassured Clockwork. "I want you to be my family."

Danny sniffed. "Okay," he said. It wasn't as if he really had anywhere else to go. "Okay. But what about," he made an awkward gesture with his cuffed hands, "Amity Park?" The idea of leaving hurt, even worse than the cut on his chest.

"You won't have to leave," said Clockwork, soothingly. "You can still have your life there."

"I'll have to go back?" asked Danny, in alarm. Back to Fentonworks, where even the walls had it out for him with how much anti-ghost weaponry they had packed into them? He couldn't. Not after what his parents had done.

(A small part of him knew that wasn't what Clockwork had said, and that he was being irrational. That part of him was ignored.)

"No, no," said Clockwork. "I have a new place, just for you. If you'll let me show you?"

Very hesitantly, Danny nodded.

"Alright, good," said Clockwork. He turned to the police ghost. "Do you have the key for these? We really must be going."

"Yeah," said the ghost, producing the item. "The boss says that he expects you to teach the kid how to respect the law."

"Appropriately," said Clockwork, neutrally, unlocking the cuffs.

Danny felt an urge to hug Clockwork. So he did. Clockwork hugged him back, and rocked him back and forth, gently.

"Are you ready to go?" asked Clockwork.

"Yeah," said Danny.

With a gesture of his staff, Clockwork opened a portal.

Clockwork wanted custody of Danny. He wanted full custody of Danny. Legally. In both worlds.

This posed a bit of a challenge, as he did not legally exist on one of those two worlds. Thus, Clockwork had to establish a legal presence in the human world.

On the surface of it, this did not seem too difficult. Between his temporal powers, his minor shapeshifting abilities, and overshadowing, simply creating an identity was easy. The hard part was creating an identity that Daniel would not have encountered before, in order to avoid a paradox, while making it plausible that Daniel had encountered the identity before, for the purposes of dealing with mortal law.

In one timeline, the hill to the west of town stood empty of habitation, owned by the county but rendered unusable due to a dangerous failed mine on the site. In this timeline, however, the mine had never been built, and the property was instead owned by a reclusive hermit who went by the name of Charles Worth. The property had passed through many hands in the years before Mr. Worth had purchased it in his youth, and a stately, if somewhat faded, mansion sat at the hill's crest, overlooking Amity Park.

Charles Worth went to Amity Park only rarely, and for good reason. He was an albino, with red eyes, white hair, and even whiter skin, and superstitious people often thought the worst of him. In recent days, he had even been mistaken for a ghost.

'Mistaken.'

He rubbed Daniel's shoulders, and the child startled, pulling away from him again. Daniel had missed Clockwork's, admittedly minor, transformation, and now blinked up at his newly pale face, confused.

"Do you like my disguise?" asked Clockwork.

Daniel's eyes flicked up and down Clockwork, assessing, processing. He gave a tiny nod, and reattached himself. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Hickory Hill," said Clockwork.

Danny frowned, mouthing the words. "Isn't that owned by... Charles Worth. Charles- Oh. I get it."

Clockwork gave Danny a little squeeze. "Would you like to see inside?"

"Okay," said Danny.

The house, Danny had to acknowledge, as they approached the front door, looked haunted. As if some pale, frail, spirit might look out one of the lace-draped windows on the upper floor at any moment. As if there was a Gothic mystery just waiting to unfold. A murder mystery, maybe, full of forbid love and jealous lovers. Or the tale of a sickly heir to a great fortune.

Or that of an ancient ghost and his adopted half-living son.

Even before they stepped inside, Danny's ghost half had decided it loved the building.

The door, as Clockwork opened it, creaked in a loving sort of way, the tone low enough to be comforting instead of annoying. The entrance hall's floorboards did not creak under the weight of the ghosts, but Danny could tell that if a human tried to cross them, they would. He hoped the rest of the floors were like that.

He padded forward, daringly leaving the protection of Clockwork's cloak, examining all the dark nooks and crannies, the odd architectural choices arising from generations of additions, smiling at cold spots. Clockwork shut the door. Even then, there was a draft, curling around his ankles, cool and refreshing.

Danny smiled. It was small and strained, but it was a smile. "It's perfect," he said.

"Don't you want to see your room before you say that?" teased Clockwork.

"Yes," said Danny.

Clockwork led Danny to a staircase with an elaborately carved banister and began to climb. Danny followed eagerly. He had never thought his core would be so happy simply to have somewhere safe to exist.

It almost was enough to let him forget what his parents had done to him. He stopped, hand on his chest.

"Daniel?" said Clockwork. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," said Danny, automatically.

Clockwork frowned, the expression both familiar and foreign on Clockwork's falsely-human face. "Why don't we take a look at that, once we get to your room, alright?"

Danny nodded, swallowing back his irrational fear.

They went up, and Clockwork opened the door to a large room, much larger than the one he had back at Fentonworks. The bed was similarly large and equipped with curtains and enough blankets and pillows to turn it into a nest at a moment's notice. The walls and ceiling were painted a deep blue, with tiny green-white dots picking out a star map. The room also contained a number of carefully curated hiding places, areas where the dressers wardrobe or desk created blind spots and deep shadows. The floor was carpeted, but still icy.

It was an excellent room for a ghost (or half-ghost) like Danny.

He was too nervous to enjoy it.

Clockwork pulled a chair to the side of the bed and sat down. It was a little strange to see Clockwork actually sitting and not floating or coiling. Actually-

"Can you have legs in ghost form?" asked Danny.

"I can," said Clockwork. "But typically I don't bother." He patted the bed. "Let's take a look at you."

Danny hesitated, holding his hands clasped in front of his chest. Clockwork's face went soft.

"I just want to make sure you are healing. I know this is difficult, but neither you nor I want things to get worse."

"I'm fine," said Danny. "I heal fast. It was just- It should be gone now. I've gotten worse."

"Is it?" asked Clockwork.

Danny could still feel it. "I don't know," said Danny.

Clockwork patted the bed again. Danny sat down and started fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

"Would you like help?" asked Clockwork.

"No," said Danny. He pulled his sweater off. Taking off his t-shirt was harder. Then there were just Sam's bandages. He bit his lip a the red and brown blotches staining them.

"Would you like to talk about it?" asked Clockwork, taking one end of the bandage and starting to unwind it.

"I don't know," said Danny. "I just- It's so stupid. I shouldn't have- They saw me walk through a door and- They don't even know I'm Phantom. They just-" Danny hiccuped. "They tried to cut me open. They pretended."

Clockwork pulled free the last layer of bandages. The long, shallow cut was still there, straight along his breast bone until the end, where it curved sharply right and tapered off. That was when Danny had jerked free of the restraints and ran.

"Why isn't it healing?" asked Danny.

"It isn't just a physical wound, Daniel. Ghosts are spiritual creatures."

"Oh," said Danny. It made a sick kind of sense. "So my core is really hurt? I thought I was just... That it was in my head."

Clockwork raised a hand to touch the bottom of the cut. "Your parents are important to you, and to your Obsession, your existence as a ghost. Of course their rejection would affect you." The cut began to knit itself together underneath Clockwork's fingers. Danny's core thrummed strangely at the touch. "I can heal your physical injuries."

"But not the mental ones, huh?" said Danny.

"You need time for that," said Clockwork, reaching the top of the cut.

"Good thing I have you, then."

"It is," said Clockwork. He leaned forward and kissed Danny on top of his head.

Danny ran his fingers up and down the newly healed cut. "So my powers aren't going to work until, what, I get over this?"

"That is one possibility," said Clockwork. "But everyone heals differently."

"Can't you tell?" asked Danny, reaching for his shirt.

"The more involved I am in an event, the more difficult it becomes for me to see its future," said Clockwork. "The timeline branches and splinters as I look at it. Also, it may surprise you, but you are fairly difficult to predict on your own."

"Oh," said Danny. He pulled his shirt on, ignoring how it caught on the dried blood on his skin. "So, what now? Should I just, I don't know, hide out here? I mean," he shifted, uncomfortably, "It's fine if I can't let anyone know I'm here, I get that, but I'd like to, um..."

"Live your life?"

Danny flinched. "As much as I can, yeah." He licked his lips. "Sam and Tucker didn't get in trouble, did they? They're fine?" He'd been so wrapped up in how miserable he was, he'd barely spared his friends a second thought, and now that guilt from that rained down on his head.

"They're fine. Due to the circumstances, they haven't gotten in any trouble at all, so stop that."

"What?"

"Feeling guilty. I know for a fact that the safety of others was your first consideration." Clockwork patted his shoulder. "As for your continued presence here on the mortal plane," Clockwork smiled, "would it surprise you to learn that I am in fact registered as a foster parent? I have even had a few children here, although not many stay for long."

"Really?" said Danny. "But... Wait, um. What about- What about Mom and Dad?"

"They were seen shooting at you in public after insisting that you were a ghost. They've been arrested."

Danny swallowed. "Are they going to be alright?"

Clockwork sighed and shifted so that he was sitting on the bed next to Danny. He put an arm around Danny's shoulders. "They'll be fine," he said. "But we should come up with a story about how you wound up here, hm? For the social workers."

During Daniel's periodic visits to Clockwork's lair, Clockwork had noted how tactile he was, how much he enjoyed hugs and other physical expressions of affection. After Daniel got past his initial hesitation concerning his new situation, that particular personality trait multiplied.

Clockwork suspected the Fentons were ultimately to blame. Their hostility towards Daniel's ghostly identity and their tendency to carry objects that could hurt Daniel precluded him from seeking comfort from them, and his friends and sister, while very remarkable, were children themselves. Their relationship with Daniel was different.

This meant that Daniel could and would spend long periods of time laying against Clockwork. Usually, he would be doing homework during those moments or talking to Clockwork about various ghostly things that he had never had a chance to learn about before.

Today, however, he was just sitting there, quietly, almost dozing.

"I'm not keeping you from doing things?" asked Daniel, abruptly. "Am I?"

"No," said Clockwork.

"You don't have to do time stuff?"

"I can make duplicates and also time travel. I can be wherever I need to be. But if you want space-"

"No," said Daniel. "This is good." He snuggled closer and startled as a ring of light flashed around his waist. He was, for the first time since before his parents had attacked him, a ghost. Clockwork, in turn, shed his human guise.

Daniel was blinking down at his gloved hands.

"What?" he asked.

"I think you finally relaxed," said Clockwork, ruffling Daniel's hair. The smaller ghost leaned into the touch, purring. "Your transformations might be a bit unpredictable for the next few days."

"Good thing it's a weekend, then, huh?"

Danny jittered nervously as he and Clockwork passed through the large, eye-covered doors. This time last week, strange ghosts had been in and out of Clockwork's house, asking questions, poking things, and staring. Clockwork said they were checking to see if everything was in order, if the adoption could become official.

Danny didn't really see why it being official mattered. The Ghost Zone didn't really have a government to speak of. Families that Danny had seen just sort of decided that they were families, and that was that. It seemed important to Clockwork, though, and Clockwork claimed that there were certain benefits, like strengthening connections... Danny didn't get it. Wouldn't their connections be strengthened anyway?

Clockwork guided Danny with small nudges, directing him to a seat in front of the judge, who stared down at them with her one enormous eye.

"I have decided to approve the adoption request regarding Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom," she said.

Danny felt Clockwork relax incrementally beside him. He smiled. The judge's pronouncement felt a little anticlimactic to him, but, well, whatever.

But the judge wasn't done speaking. "The child's familial bond with his biological parents will be severed. The familial bond will be established with his current guardian, known as Clockwork. On all levels legal, physical, metaphysical, metaphorical, emotional, mental, and spiritual, Clockwork will be the sole parent of Daniel Janus James Fenton-Phantom. Due to the child's status as a liminal spirit, the memories and associations stored in his human brain will not be altered, and he may still experience feelings, especially those of nostalgia, towards his former parents, however, this is expected to fade with time. Questions?"

Danny had rather a lot, actually. Clockwork hadn't quite explained it like this. "Wait, are you saying I'll forget my parents?"

"No," said the judge, in a rather condescending tone.

"You won't forget them," said Clockwork. "But your core won't recognize them as your parents anymore. It's so you'll be able to defend yourself." His tone was almost pleading. "Your relationship with your sister will, of course, be unaffected."

"Okay," said Danny. They clearly didn't see him as their son anymore, so... It wouldn't really change anything. He didn't like the idea of ghosts he didn't know messing around with his core, but he trusted Clockwork. Even if he was apparently really bad at explaining ghost adoption. "What about the other stuff? The physical, metaphysical part?"

"The severed bonds in your core are replaced with ones to your new parent. Similarly, new bonds will be established in your parent's core," explained the judge. "Are you satisfied?"

Clockwork gave Danny an encouraging smile.

"I- Yes. I'm satisfied," said Danny.

"Very well." The judge waved forward a seven armed bailiff who had been waiting in the corner of the room.

The bailiff carried two tall glasses and a large, covered pitcher. He set one glass each in front of Clockwork and Danny and poured a thick, white, faintly glowing liquid into each of them.

"What is it?" asked Danny.

"It is a potion designed to stop our cores from fighting the changes that are about to happen," said Clockwork.

Danny looked at the potion dubiously. "Like an anesthetic?"

"Like an anesthetic," agreed Clockwork. He had already picked up his cup. "Together?"

"Okay," said Danny, still doubtful.

He picked up the cup and brought it to his lips, watching Clockwork carefully over the rim. Clockwork tipped his cup back, and so did Danny.

The potion reminded him a lot of eggnog, except that it was thicker, heavier, sweeter, like it had been mixed with honey. Almost at once, that heaviness settled into Danny's bones, weighing him down, a sensation just to the left of sleep settled over him. He lowered the cup from his face, his grip on it going gentle. The bailiff caught it as it tipped over.

Clockwork reached over and gently, slowly, pulled him close. Then he went as limp as Danny.

Inside, Danny's core became open. Not open, as in vulnerable, but as in receptive. Listening. He felt soft. Malleable. Like someone could press their thumb into him, and it would leave an impression when he hardened again. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation.

The judge sighed with something like disapproval. "So mote it be." She raised a stamp up off her desk, brought it down, and things changed.

Or, at least, Danny did.

Clockwork, being the elder ghost, recovered faster from the potion than Daniel. There was no reason to stay at the court, so, after bidding a goodbye to the judge, he picked Daniel up and left, flying a polite distance before opening a portal back to their home outside Amity Park.

He settled Daniel down in his bed, phasing him beneath his covers and tucking him in. Daniel would need to sleep off the potion, as well as take time to adjust to the changes to his psyche, however minor they might be.

"I love you so much," said Clockwork, brushing Daniel's hair out of his face. Getting here had taken subjective years of work and planning but it was worth it, because now Daniel was his child, in every way that mattered.

Forever.

Yes, that ending line was a little bit ominous, but they're ghosts. They wouldn't be happy if it wasn't ominous!

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020

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starry-pierrot · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepy Nightguards

Okay! So this is a big one. Hope you all like it!

@jelly-belly-fish

Jelly was nervous as they clocked in for their third nightshift, they had just started their new security job at Freddy’s Pizzaplex and while all their friends were jealous they were working at the place that basically ruled their childhood; they were this close to being tired of it. Not because the job was horrible or anything but because of the long nights. Jelly wasn’t used to staying up till six in the morning and it was obvious the young adult was having some issues staying awake all night.

But not tonight! The night before was a nightmare when Montgomery woke them up with a Halloween mask from storage. If it wasn’t for Freddy and the others they were sure they would have had a heart attack right there and then. But tonight they would make it through the night without falling asleep if it was going to kill them and to make sure it didn’t happen they brought a bunch of sugary snacks and soda along with some coffee. Their heart might stop but at least they’d be awake.

Jelly stepped out into the Pizzaplex with flashlight in hand, they were sure the bots were out and about by now mingling with each other. They still weren’t used to them, anxiety taking over before they could have a real conversation besides ‘Hello’ and ‘ Gotta do the job.’ But they continued on as they walked throughout the building.

Like usual there wasn’t anything different about the building, no kids hiding, no burglars making their way in through the window and no random fires breaking out in the kitchen. They did see the counter was a little sticky with some soda, a day employee probably forgot to clean that but they continued on.

That was pretty much all they needed to do, the place is locked up for the night and no one would be getting in without the animatronics knowing about it. That meant one thing. Or it would if someone hadn’t snuck up on them. “ Hello,Jelly.” “ A-aha!” They jumped when a deep voice came from behind them, turning around to reveal it to be Freddy. “ Oh-uh-Hi..” It took a moment for their nerves to calm down. The bear gave a kind but apologetic smile, “ I see you are doing your rounds. Everything good?” “ Yes. Uh-yeah no nothing weird going on..” They looked off to the side then back to the bear hoping that he wouldn’t stick around too long even if they did like the sound of his voice. “ Good. I just wanted to check in. I know you’ve been having some trouble staying awake but that should pass eventually.” “ Yeah it should-look uh I gotta go man the monitors. See ya Freddy!” Jelly sidestepped the bear giving him a small wave before taking off towards the security room. They weren’t ever sure if they were going to get used to the animatronics actually talking to them. When MJ introduced them they were not sure what to think but at least most of them were nice. But the gator and the twins can be shoved in a closet.

The night continued on as Jelly watched the monitors, eating their candy and drinking their coffee to stay awake as they played on their phone. Sometimes she would catch the animatronics on screen, Roxane coaxing Montgomery into some arcade games while Chica cheered them on. Freddy was seen fixing up the plate placements in the party room while the twins mostly stayed in the playground area. Jelly didn’t realize it but they were getting tired, their head started to bob before jerking awake. A yawn slipping out here and there, maybe they were starting to rest their head against their arms as some YouTube video played on their phone. What were they watching? The sound faded out- “ Jelly?” Freddy asked as he peaked his head into the security room, it had been a while since the guard had done their last round and while management didn’t make them keep a time card for it (the tech would be an extra 100 to put in the system) Freddy liked to make sure they at least did the bare minimum for their job. But he paused when he saw all the candy wrappers and empty soda and coffee bottles that littered the desk and floor. The bear shook his head and quietly walked in noting that the guard was fast asleep. Quietly picking up the garbage and throwing it in the bin didn’t take long and when he was done he looked to the guard, they didn’t look very comfortable. The chair was a little too far back and he was sure if they slipped just a little further they’d fall right on their face. “ It’s always the young ones.” Shaking his head with an amused smile he gently scooped up the guard off the chair, Jelly not making a peep in this process. The guards had dragged in some big bean bag chairs a while back and they were perfect for this sort of thing, walking over Freddy gently put the guard on one of the chairs making sure they were in a comfortable position. He left for a moment only to come back and tuck in a blanket from his room around them, a few of the others had followed him and poked their heads in but he held up his finger to tell them to be quiet. “Let them sleep.” ------- @the-pun-sexual-nerd The first hour had gone by quickly as MJ had done their rounds around the complex, the flashlight twirling in their hand as they walked about. Monty and Roxane had decided to go kart racing with Freddy being the mediator, Mj would have joined them but they were feeling like doing something else that was a bit more quiet than a racetrack. Heading back to the security room they quickly turned on the monitors giving them a quick look over before they set up their phone, clicking on the streaming service they watch Lucifer on. They had recently gotten into the show and were trying to binge watch all four seasons within the week, it was a hyperfixation. Pulling out their snacks they leaned back in the chair as the episode started, it was a few episodes before the finale in season one. As Mj watched the show they took quick looks from the monitors to the show from time to time and for a while it was all quiet. So quiet in fact they didn’t realize they had another member in the room.

“ What are you watchin’, sugar?” The guard squeaked and dropped their chips as they jumped, spinning the chair around only to find Chica standing there looking a little surprised. “ Chica! Jeez you scared me!” “ Oh-opps.” The chicken laughed, giving an apologetic smile for the scare. Even if these guys were nice they really needed to quit it with being so quiet. Maybe they should get them all bells to put around their necks. “ Sorry about that, hun. I guess I don’t know just how quiet I can be.” “ It’s okay just...don’t do that again. Please.” “ I promise! Now what are you watching?” The larger animatronic leaned in to the now slightly moved phone on the desk. Mj quickly righted it and snagged their bag from the floor, luckily the snacks didn’t all fall out and there was still a good chunk of them left.

“ Lucifer. It’s a tv show about Lucifer who’s a fallen angel and he doesn't like his life anymore so he leaves hell. And he ends up movin’ to Los Angeles and everything is good and great until someone gets killed outside his nightclub and that starts some- “ Dear I don’t mean to be rude but I have no idea what you just said.”

Mj stopped for a moment realizing they went on another word bender with someone who probably isn’t even programmed to know about any of the themes within the television show. “ Oh-oops. Um-do you just want to watch it with me? We can start from the beginnin’.”

“ I’d love to!”

Hours later the two were sitting on the bean bag chairs, the phone sitting on a chair they had pulled over and propped up with a Freddy plushie. Mj had eaten all their snacks and was currently starting to nod off besides Chica.

“ Sweetheart I think you’re falling asleep there.”

“ No I’m not! I’m awake!”

Chica laughed and reached over to the phone to pause it, “ I know a sleepy human when I see one. Come on you got another two hours before your shift ends. You can take a nap.”

Mj seemed to consider it for a moment before they sighed and laid back on the bean bag chair, “ Okay...I am a bit sleepy.”

“ It’s all that junk food you ate. Makes you all sluggish.”

“ But soda has caffeine in it. “

“ And humans can get caffeine crashes. Next time I’ll bring you a little something that's a bit more healthy okay?” Chica stood up moving the blanket closer to the human and tucking them in much like she would do to a child.

“ Now get some sleep. I’ll let the others know to leave you alone, okay?”

“Okay! Night, Chica.” Mj adjusted themselves for a moment before they finally settled down and closed their eyes.

“ Night, darlin’.”

-------

“ Zoey we need you to work tonight!”

“What!?” It was currently a Saturday in the afternoon, about four, it was the busiest time of the day. Her and Twigs were already up to their necks in kids trading tickets and stocking at quickly as they could at the prize counter.

“ Katsu called out, she’s got something going on so I need you to fill in.” The manager didn’t even look up when he addressed her.

“ There isn’t anyone else? You know that's going to be like a fifteen hour work day right?” She’s been here since one and she doesn't get off until closing. That’s nine hours plus the twelve to six?

“ It’s fine. I already cleared it with Jamie you need to come in tonight. “ Her manager then quickly left giving her no chance to reject the extra shift.

“ Well shit.” Zoey sighed, it wasn’t that she didn’t like the night shift. No she loved it! But working so many hours was going to be a pain in the ass and she was sure she was going to get a major migraine in the morning. At least she would get to go home and eat before coming back.

Well there was nothing she could do about it now as she needed the money and she wasn’t about to quit when there were literal talking animatronics at this job. Rolling her eyes she went back to stocking the plushies on the shelf.

It was eleven fifty five as she clocked in ready to start this ridiculously long shift, at least she would be among friends who would make things fun. But first she had to handle some of her duties such as checking the facilities before turning on the monitors, though it didn’t take long for her to finish.

“ Hey Zoey! You wanna go play some Mini Golf? I bet we can beat gator boy over there.” Roxanne walked into the security office with Monty hot on her heels.

“ Oh no you won’t! You wanna start something wolfy?” And they were already starting with a little rivalry, this was fine. Zoey could play.

“ What, Monty? Are you scared you’re gonna lose?” Zoey shot back with a smile feeling some energy awake inside her.

“ Oh-ho! Someone is ready to kick some tail! “ Roxanne grabbed Zoey’s hand and began to tug her towards the door, “ Come on, Montgomery! Hurry up or we’ll leave you behind!”

“ I bet I’ll get there first!” Without much warning the gator sped forward passing the two towards his section of the Pizzaplex, Roxane not wanting to lose scooped up Zoey and threw her over her shoulder before running after the other animatronic.

“ Whoa-Hey!”

The run to the golf course was surprisingly smooth considering she was on Roxanne's shoulder, she was gently deposited on the ground when the two arrived just behind Monty. The gator gloated a little but she was quickly given her own club before being tugged out onto the field.

The three played for a bit all the while Monty and Roxanne shot words at each other, Zoey would say something here and there but she was realizing that the energy she had earlier was starting to give out. Her shots were getting worse too as they continued playing.

It was around hole fourteen that she stopped listening to the two playfully bicker and talk about whatever it was that they talked about. Soon her head was drooping, jerking awake and she tried to pay attention to the conversation.

“You think their parents would make sure their kid cleans their hand before they touch my mohawk.”

“ I had kids stick gum in my tail. But hey still gotta love them.” Zoey began to zone out again, this time her head falling forward before she jerked awake yet again. However this time Montgomery noticed.

“ Hey, you doing okay there, missy?” He asked.

“ What? Yeah just...a little tired. This is my second shift today and it was busy as hell.” Rubbing at her eyes she gave a yawn.

“ Swear jar.” Roxanne piped in.

“ I’m okay, I'm just tired. We can still play.” Zoey picked up her club and began walking to the next hole, the two animatronics looked at each other before following her. Deciding to keep an extra eye on her.

But it soon became apparent that the human was just too tired to play, Zoey wasn’t the best player at mini golf but her shots were just terrible.

“ Okay. That’s it.” Suddenly a tail wrapped around Zoey’s waist pulling her closer. Looking back she saw Montgomery giving her a look that said ‘Time to go’.

“ You can’t be falling asleep on the golf course now. You’ll ruin the grass and your shots suck worse than usual.”

“Gee thanks.”

“ Come on I’ll take you back to my room.”

This made Zoey freeze for a moment before she tried to pull away from his tail, “ Uh-no it’s fine I can just go sleep in the secr-” another yawn, “security room.”

“ The green rooms are closer. Come on.” Without missing a beat the larger animatronic reached over and scooped her up into one of his arms. Zoey squeaked as her face went red but she didn’t fight it.

How could she fight someone that was ten times stronger than her and wouldn’t take no for an answer?

Well-that was until she noticed Roxanne smiling at her. Suddenly her embarrassment was even stronger.

“ Okay-uh-Monty come on I can walk! “

“ You’re falling asleep on your feet.”

“ Yeah Zoey. Just let him carry you.” Oh she was going to get smacked later for this she knew what she was doing! Zoey glared back at Roxanne watching her as she stayed behind.

“ Monty put me down.” Zoey tried one last time.

“ No.”

The human sighed and gave in letting the animatronic carry her to the green rooms, not that she had a choice to begin with. It wasn’t a long walk and the room smelled of pizza and some type of air freshener. Monty walked over to the couch and dropped her on it before he tossed a blanket at her.

“ There you go. Now go to bed, we'll play another round when you won't ruin my grass by falling asleep on it.” Montgomery walked over to the lights and flipped them off turning the room into a dark enough space that would be easy to sleep in.

“ Okay fine...just wake me up before six okay?” Looking back over at him while she pulled the pillows closer she saw him pause and look back.

“ Yeah don’t worry.. Good night, little missy.”

With that he walked out leaving Zoey alone in his room, she could feel her heart beating a little quicker than normal and she wanted to bury her face into the pillow and die.

But something caught her eye, it was a Montgomery plush. Zoey would later refuse to admit that she had been cuddling with it.

----

@trollartistry

Today was not a good day.

Nemi yawned as he clocked into his nightshift, irritated and grumpy. The day had been a long one, first he couldn’t get enough sleep as his body just didn’t want to cooperate with him. He was sure he didn’t fall asleep till about three hours before his nightshift which was not enough time for him to be fully rested. Then his drier broke and he was forced to dry his uniform with a blow dryer taking up the time he would usually use to make a decent meal for himself. All he had was some toast and yogurt before he had rushed to his car so he wouldn’t be late.

He didn’t need management getting on his ass tonight.

The male gave out half-assed greetings to the animatronics and any other guards stationed with him tonight as he started his rounds, checking the bathrooms, the arcade and making sure no kids were hiding somewhere in the ball pit. It all seemed well and good until there was a sudden commotion just irritating enough to get on his last nerve. Quickly heading to the party hall he found that Moondrop was being berated by one of the other guards, Zoey. Once he took another look around he found that Roxane was yelling at the other animatronic while her tail was slightly colored pink, being held back by Freddy while Monty and Chica were off to the side.

“ You can’t just dye her fur! You know management would-”

“ It was just a joke!” “ No one messes with my fur and gets away with it!”

“ Now will you all calm down? There is no reason to-”

“ENOUGH!”

The room was suddenly very quiet as all their heads snapped to Nemi, the man glaring at them with a scowl on his face. Nemi walked forward, “ I’m not dealing with this tonight. Zoey keep that creep of yours under control. Roxane go wash your tail out before it stains your fur. And everyone else keep it fucking quiet!” The others were clearly unsettled by his attitude as usually he’d be nothing more than a sweetheart but clearly something had irritated the man.

But before anyone could say anything he stormed off towards the security room, why were they all so chaotic? And it had to be on a night where he was already having a bad day. Angrily sitting down at the security rooms table he let out a long winded sigh and held his head in his hands. At least now it was quiet.

“ Nemi?”

Oh for fucks sake. “ What, Freddy?”

The animatronic bear stepped in the room and walked over standing next to the irritated guard, “ Are you alright? You seem to be upset about something.”

“ Oh no. No I’m not upset. It’s not like there isn’t some dumb mess I have to clean up that I didn’t make. Or that my dryer broke and I barely ate anything or that-that, I couldn’t take a nap and I’m tired as all hell-shit.” Nemi could feel tears coming to his eyes, quickly wiping them away before they could fall. Why did Freddy have to come in now?

“...Would you like to take a nap in my room?”

The question caught the guard off guard, Nemi snapping his head towards the bear in surprise. “ What?”

“ My room. It’s quiet and the others will stay out of the room. I’m sure Zoey can handle the duties for tonight.”

“ No.” The bear’s ears roasted upwards as his eyebrows rose, seemingly confused at the rejection. “ No-it’s fine I’ll just-”

“ Nemi you clearly need to rest.” Freddy tried to argue.

“ No I’m fine. Just go back out and leave me alone for a while okay?” The man sighed and turned around thinking the bear would do what he asked. He wasn’t about to go sleep in Freddy’s room of all places.

“ I see we will be doing this the hard way.”

“ What?” Suddenly Nemi was being picked up. No correct that he was suddenly being bridal carried by Freddy. Nemi felt all his anger and his face flush red all at one. “ Put me down! Freddy!”

“ Don’t squirm now. You need to rest and if I have to give you a little tough love then so be it.” The bear’s grip was like iron as Nemi tried to get out of it.

“ Freddy seriously! Put me down right now!” But the bear ignored him as he carried Nemi out of the security room and towards the greenrooms. Nemi just hoped to god that none of the others would see him in this embarrassing state. It didn’t take too long for them to enter Freddy’s room and by the time they entered Nemi had stopped squirming so aggressively having grown tired from his already low energy.

“ Here we are.” Freddy walked over to the couch and gently set the man on it, but before he could make a dash for the door Freddy had him wrapped up in a blanket like some kind of burrito. Nemi knew this was the type of wrapping they used when there was an obviously overstimulated kid that needed to calm down.

“ Freddy unwrap me right now! “

“ No I don’t think I will. Nemi you need to rest.” The bear was pulling pillows over into a small pile before he gently knocked the man over so he could lay down.

“ I am not a child!”

“ No you certainly are not, but you are acting like one.” Freddy knelt down besides him, “ Nemi. I am only doing this because I care-we all care about you.” The bear looked away for a moment, “ I just want you to take care of yourself. You’re stressed.”

Nemi’s anger suddenly deteriorated as he saw the care in Freddy’s eyes, he could feel his cheeks getting hot with the bear this close to him and if this kept up any longer he was going to say something stupid. “ Fine. I’ll take a stupid nap.”

Freddy beamed at the confirmation, “ Good. And when you wake up I want you to apologize to the others.”

The man grumbled but nodded as he finally settled into the couch, Freddy stood up ruffling the man's hair before walking over to the wall and lowering the lights.

“ Have a good night, Nemi. I’ll wake you up an hour before your shift ends.”

The man said nothing but Freddy didn’t seem to mind as he walked out quietly closing the door. Nemi Laid there on the couch still frustrated that he was carried like a child and told to go to bed as if Freddy was his parent.

Wait.

He was carried by Freddy.

Like a groom.

No one heard the embarrassed groan that came from the man.

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #fnaf security guard #self insert #fnaf oc #guardsonas

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csnews · 4 years ago

Photo

'I've never seen or heard of attacks': scientists baffled by orcas harassing boats

Susan Smillie - September 13, 2020

Reports of orcas striking sailing boats in the Straits of Gibraltar have left sailors and scientists confused. Just what is causing such unusually aggressive behaviour?

When nine killer whales surrounded the 46ft boat that Victoria Morris was crewing in Spain on the afternoon of 29 July, she was elated. The biology graduate taught sailing in New Zealand and is used to friendly orca encounters. But the atmosphere quickly changed when they started ramming the hull, spinning the boat 180 degrees, disabling the autohelm and engine. The 23-year-old watched broken bits of the rudder float off, leaving the four-person crew without steering, drifting into the Gibraltar Straits shipping lane between Cape Trafalgar and the small town of Barbate.

The pod rammed the boat for more than an hour, during which time the crew were too busy getting the sails in, readying the life raft and radioing a mayday – “Orca attack!” – to feel fear. The moment fear kicked in, Morris says, was when she went below deck to prepare a grab bag – the stuff you take when abandoning ship. “The noise was really scary. They were ramming the keel, there was this horrible echo, I thought they could capsize the boat. And this deafening noise as they communicated, whistling to each other. It was so loud that we had to shout.” It felt, she says, “totally orchestrated”.

The crew waited a tense hour and a half for rescue – perhaps understandably, the coastguard took time to comprehend (“You are saying you are under attack from orca?”). To say this is unusual is to massively understate it. By the time help arrived, the orcas were gone. The boat was towed to Barbate, where it was lifted to reveal the rudder missing its bottom third and outer layer, and teeth marks along the underside.

Rocío Espada works with the marine biology laboratory at the University of Seville and has observed this migratory population of orca in the Gibraltar Straits for years. She was astonished. “For killer whales to take out a piece of a fibreglass rudder is crazy,” she says. “I’ve seen these orcas grow from babies, I know their life stories, I’ve never seen or heard of attacks.”

Highly intelligent, social mammals, orcas are the largest of the dolphin family, and behave in a similar way. It is normal, she says, that orcas will follow close to the propeller. Even holding the rudder is not unheard of: “Sometimes they will bite the rudder, get dragged behind as a game.” But never with enough force to break it. This ramming, Espada says, indicates stress. The Straits is full of nets and long lines; perhaps a calf got caught.

But Morris’s was only one of several encounters between late July and August. Six days earlier, Alfonso Gomez-Jordana Martin, a 31-year-old from Alicante, was crewing a delivery boat near Barbate for the same company, Reliance Yacht Management. They were proceeding under engine when a pod of four orcas brought their 40ft Beneteau to a halt. He filmed them – it looks more like excitement and curiosity than aggression – but even this bumping damaged the rudder. And the force increased, he says, over 50 minutes. “Once we were stopped, they came in faster: 10-15 knots, from a distance of about 25m,” he remembers. “The impact tipped the boat sideways.”

The skipper’s report to the port authority said the force “nearly dislocated the helmsman’s shoulder and spun the whole yacht through 120 degrees”.

At 11.30pm the previous night, 22 July, Beverly Harris, a retired nurse from Derbyshire, and her partner, Kevin Large, were motor-sailing their 50ft boat, Kailani, just off Barbate at eight knots, when they came to a sudden standstill. It was flat calm, pitch black. They thought they’d hit a net. “I scrambled for a torch and was like, ‘Bloody hell, they’re orcas,’” says Harris. The couple checked their position and found the boat pointing the opposite way. They tried to correct several times, but the orcas kept spinning them back. “I had this weird sensation,” Harris says, “like they were trying to lift the boat.” It lasted about 20 minutes, but felt longer. “We thought, ‘We’ve sailed across the Atlantic, surely we’re not going to sink now!’” Their rudder was damaged but got them to La Línea. It was a long night. “Kevin said I should get some sleep. I said, ‘Are you joking? I’m having a gin and tonic,’” recalls Harris.

While enjoying her drink, Harris could have spared a thought for Nick Giles, having a sleepless night alone after an almost identical encounter off Barbate just two and a half hours earlier. He was motor-sailing, and playing music when he heard a sudden bang “like a sledgehammer”. The wheel was “turning with incredible force” as the vessel spun 180 degrees, dislodging the autohelm and steering cables. “The boat lifted up half a foot and I was pushed by a second whale from behind,” he says. While resetting the cables, the orca hit again, “nearly chopping off my fingers in the mechanism”. He was pushed around without steering for about 15 minutes before they left him.

Catastrophic encounters between whales and boats are not unknown – the best-known events all took place in the Pacific. In 1972 the Robertson family from Staffordshire were shipwrecked off the Galapagos Islands after an orca strike (their book, Survive the Savage Sea became a classic). The following year, also on the way to those islands, Maurice and Maralyn Bailey’s 31ft boat was holed by a sperm whale. In 1989 William and Simone Butler lost their boat as a huge pod of pilot whales rammed them. In these and all other known cases, the mammals ignored the humans who took to life rafts; it was the boats that attracted their ire. More usually in encounters, the whale is left dead or injured. The International Whaling Commission records these strikes – more collisions are occurring with private boats as technological advances increase performance speeds.

The encounters described around Barbate were certainly frightening for the crew, who understandably felt targeted, but it’s unlikely they were meant as aggressive attacks. At least two other boats had harmless encounters. On 20 July Martin Chambers, a yacht master for Allabroad Sailing Academy, was unconcerned when they were joined by a pod near Barbate. One individual “had hold of the rudder and stopped us moving the boat”, he says. “That’s the first time I’ve seen them do that.” It seems the encounters increased in intensity, but it’s also worth considering that different boat constructions can suffer different outcomes – rudders on some modern boats can be quite fragile.

“These are very strange events,” says Ezequiel Andréu Cazalla, a cetacean researcher who talked to Morris. “But I don’t think they’re attacks.” Orca specialists around the world are equally surprised, agreeing the behaviour is “highly unusual”, but are cautious, given that the accounts are not from trained researchers. Most agree that something is stressing the orcas. And when it comes to sources of stress, there are plenty to choose from.

“The lack of tuna has led these orca to the very edge with only 30 adults left”

The Gibraltar orcas are endangered – there are fewer than 50 individuals left, with a continuing decline projected – adults and juveniles are sustaining injuries, suffering food scarcity and pollution. Their calves rarely survive. The Gibraltar Straits is, Cazalla points out, “the worst place for orcas to live”. This narrow stretch of water is a major shipping route. And the presence of orcas attracts more marine traffic – highly profitable whale-watching. Theoretically, it is regulated, but some operators flout rules about speed and distance to chase the animals. Constant harassment by boats affects the orcas’ ability to hunt. Which brings us to the biggest stress of all: fishing.

The orcas return to this noisy, polluted stretch of water for one reason – to feed. They specialise in hunting bluefin tuna, also highly prized by humans. The near collapse of bluefin tuna between 2005 and 2010 “has led this orca population to the very edge, with about 30 adults left”, says Pauline Gauffier, who has studied them.

The Straits is an important migratory route for the tuna. It has been economically crucial to this region for thousands of years – the Romans produced coins in Cadiz depicting the once bountiful fish. Local fisheries still use an ancient technique – almadraba, a complex system of trap nets. Each spring, the bluefin arrive to spawn in the Med; many find their way into the nets instead. In July and August, as the tuna leave for the Atlantic, the fishermen switch to drop lines – baited with fish and lowered with rocks. These artisanal techniques are far less harmful than trawling, purse seining or driftnets – and than the reckless sport-fishing boats speeding at 10 knots, trailing long lines.

“They target the orca, because they think there must be tuna under the pods,” says Jörn Selling, a marine biologist for Firmm whale watching and research foundation with 17 years’ experience in the Straits. “They go right through the pods, their hooks cutting the dorsal fins”.

In the past, the orca chased the bluefin to exhaustion, but with fewer and smaller fish available, and the pressures from human activity, some have adapted. As a result, there now exists what biologists call “depradation” – a complex balance between the orca, tuna, and humans – and what the fishermen call “stealing”.

Since 1999, two of the Straits’ five pods have learned to take tuna from the drop lines, leaving the fishermen pulling up the tuna head alone. It’s infuriating for the fishermen, but for the orca, this is high risk. Several have sustained serious injuries. “We see marks caused by fishing lines,” says Selling. “We hear about young orca getting hooked.” There are two females with severed flippers – “Lucia”, Selling says “lost her baby together with her flipper, due to the interaction with tuna fishermen”. Gauffier points out that “there is little the fishermen can do to avoid line or hook injuries” when orca interact; and it’s not known what caused the injuries. But many conservationists suspect some fishermen retaliate violently.

“The fishermen hate the killer whales,” says Selling. The orca are protected, but “unobserved, the fishermen do what they want. They see them as competitors.”

Stories persist of fishermen stunning orca with electric prods, throwing lit petrol cans, cutting dorsal fins. Cazalla has seen two orca with recent injuries (Morris thinks there was an injured individual at her boat). “One has a significant scar – you can see white tissue so it’s deep.” This, he thinks, is unlikely to be from a propeller, which would cause multiple scars.

Selling points out that the orca interact with the almadraba as well as drop-line fishing, and talks of a male which worked out how to navigate the labyrinth of submarine nets to take tuna in Barbate years ago. This orca was later observed with serious injury to its dorsal fin. It hasn’t been seen since.

But the orca have endured harassment for decades. What explains the new behaviour? Was there reduced noise during the Covid lockdown? Selling says yes. “No big game fishing, no whale watching or sailing boats, no fast ferries, fewer merchant ships.” He’s intrigued by the idea that the orca had two months with reduced noise – “Something most of them probably never experienced before” – and considers the possibility they felt angry as the noise restarted (Gauffier thinks this unlikely, but notes that the Barbate pod still actively chases tuna, “for which they need a quieter environment”).

There is one very unscientific phrase I hear repeatedly from several researchers: “Pissed off”. Some speculate that the multitude of stresses these highly sentient cetaceans have endured – years of grieving lost calves, injuries, competition for fish, coupled with a pause and reintroduction of human activity, could have affected their behaviour. There is a great deal we don’t yet know about orca, which, like us, have evolved complex cultures and different languages around the world. A couple of years ago Ken Balcomb from the Center for Whale Research talked about endangered orca being dependent on scarce chinook salmon in the Pacific Northwest. “I’ve seen them look at boats hauling fish. I think they know that humans are somehow related to the scarcity of food. And I think they know that the scarcity of food is causing them physical distress, and also causing them to lose babies.”

Sounds like anthropomorphising? Lori Marino, neuroscientist and president of the Whale Sanctuary Project found in orca brains an astounding capacity for intelligence. “If we are talking about whether killer whales have the wherewithal and the cognitive capacity to intentionally strike out at someone, or to be angry, or to really know what they are doing, I would have to say the answer is yes. They are likely defending a territory or resources.”

Meanwhile, Nick Irving from Reliance is wondering if he should send clients’ boats out after the last three sustained damage: “Is it reckless?” Neither of us say it, but we’re both thinking he doesn’t want to be the mayor in Jaws – the obvious, if lazy stereotype that comes to mind. Word is starting to get out, frustrating Espada. Friends call, asking about the “attacks”, if it’s safe to swim. “Are you mad?” she asks. “Of course it’s safe!” As shark conservationists know all too well, it’s difficult to protect endangered animals with a bad image.

This tiny population’s presence is of huge importance, and if human activity is affecting their behaviour, human activity must be regulated. Gauffier has presented the Spanish Environment Agency with a conservation plan proposing that in the Barbate area, “activities producing underwater noise should be reduced to a minimum”. This is the very least that should happen. Each sailor I spoke to was concerned that their activities had stressed the orca. Victoria Morris, who has been searching for a specialist subject when she returns to study marine biology in autumn has found her topic. The Gibraltar orca has one more ally – which is good because these majestic, beleaguered mammals need all the help they can get.

#news #wild #cetacean #orca #killer whale #gibraltar #whale #dolphin

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simp-for-spencer-reid · 4 years ago

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Sugar with a Side of Coffee Ch. 10- Trivia Night

Chapter 10: Trivia Night

Series Masterlist

The team could deduce that Spencer and Cate had made up; he began to show up with his hot coffee and a fresh baked good in the morning again. JJ tried to talk with him about his and Cate’s relationship, but he insisted they were just friends. Emily suggested having another night out, but Spencer wasn’t keen on that idea.

Especially after seeing how easily someone could get to her through him, like the photographs made clear, he wanted to keep her at an arm’s distance. He would rather have her safe than to be the reason she got hurt.

Derek and Penelope had grown impatient waiting for Spencer to introduce them to her officially. Sure, Derek had met her briefly at the bar, but the team as a whole wanted to get to know her, maybe give their stamp of approval. They all knew how much Spencer deserved a ray of sunshine in his life. They also wanted to see what had Spencer so captivated by her.

Luckily, they had schemed up a little plan to not force, but encourage an introduction. Penelope had seen a flyer on her way into work about a Trivia Night being held at the bar on 18th that they frequented. The team as a whole was due for a night out anyhow, so they could play it off as a coincidence. Derek was one step ahead of Penelope, he had stopped into The Empty Mug to talk to Marta about their plan. He had assumed that since Cate typically worked the cart, that Marta would be inside the shop. And like the profiler he was, he was right.

Marta recognized him right away. She quickly got through the line to take care of his order.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Marta smirked at him. Derek laughed her off.

“I have a plan to get our Pretty Boy and your friend together.”

It took little convincing to get Marta on board of he and Penelope’s plan. Even Marta was tired of the pining and wanted to help them finally get together. Spencer and Cate were painfully obvious to anyone else about their feelings, but to each other, they kept them hidden.

Marta could see how Cate’s spirits were lifted when she came in from a shift after seeing Spencer. And on the nights when he walked her home, Marta could see Cate’s face light up. Marta was also a witness to the mutual blushing between them. She could see the stolen glances and the way the two teetered on the edge of friends or more.

When Cate came in after her shift on the cart, she was smiling and had a bit of a bounce to her step. Marta could only assume she and Spencer had seen each other this morning. As soon as Cate reappeared from the back, Marta was hot on her trail.

“So,” Marta started, already putting on her begging face. “I was thinking that it’s been a while since we last went to the bar on 18th and we both could use a night out! I’ll even drive!” Marta had her hands placed on Cate’s shoulders, slightly shaking her as she pleaded.

“Uh, yeah I don’t have any plans, I just have to run home and feed Shrimp and I’ll meet you back here?” Cate had told Spencer she was free tonight when she saw him this morning, but she’d have to update him later. Marta was doing a small celebratory series of jumps. Just as soon as she had ran up to Cate, she was shooing her out the door to move her along to go get ready.

“Perfect, I’ll expect you back here by five thirty, I want to be there by six.” Marta watched as Cate walked to her apartment, the two of them laughing to themselves.

Cate’s apartment felt different since the leak. She no longer kept her books out on shelves or anywhere they could be damaged. She traded them out for little figurines and pictures in frames. It made Cate’s place feel less like her, but she never wanted to risk her books until she found a more reliable place.

Shrimp batted a little golden pom pom with wings around Cate’s living room floor. She was busy in her room, pulling clothes out for a cute outfit. Her bedroom door was open, allowing for Shrimp to walk in and jump on her bed to watch what she was doing. She turned when she heard his bell and held up a hanger with an olive green shirt on it.

“Which do you prefer?” Cate asked the orange cat as she swapped between the green shirt and a mustard yellow one. Shrimp just closed his eyes and curled up to sleep. “Thanks for the help.” Cate smiled and decided on the yellow shirt. She paired it with dark blue jeans and some tan heels.

After putting the other clothes back where they belonged and taking a quick shower and changing, Cate walked to her kitchen, enjoying the sound of her heels clicking on the floor. She filled Shrimp’s bowl and gave him fresh water. Taking her phone out of her back pocket, she lifted it to her mouth to record a voice message for Spencer.

“Hey Spence, I know I said I was free tonight, but Marta wanted to go out, so I can’t hangout- if that’s what you wanted to do!” She had rushed the last part, mentally scolding herself for making assumptions.

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed that Cate had managed to come up with plans that didn’t involve him. As he sat at his desk, He was tempted to ask where she was going, but he didn’t want to pry. As he set his phone down, Penelope approached his desk. She wore her smile as well as she sported her colorful clothing and accessories.

“Good evening, Boy Wonder! I come bearing some fun times. Tonight, we- as in Morgan, Prentiss, JJ and I are going to a trivia night! Would you like to come?” Penelope held a pink papered flyer in her hand.

“Wouldn’t it be cheating considering my eidetic memory?” Spencer furrowed his brows at her.

“Well, yes we would have an advantage, but it will be fun winning and we can celebrate with drinks or something. Consider it team bonding time!” Spencer wondered how much bonding the team could really have. Since he and Cate were not going to see each other, he might as well fill his night with fun with his team.

He didn’t bother going home after work, he rode with Emily, and JJ to the bar on 18th. They parked around back, Derek and Penelope pulling in front of them. The air was cooling down as they exited their cars. Derek finished up a quick phone call as they were parking. The group made their way to the entrance, walking to the right side of the trivia section, picking a table that would fit their team of five.

Cate had made it back to The Empty Mug shortly before Marta had wanted her to arrive. Of course, Marta was running a little late, and hadn’t even gotten dressed yet. Cate went up the stairs and greeted Marta’s parents having dinner. Marta was in her room, still in a towel as she dried her curly hair.

By the time they got to the bar on 18th, it was a little after six. Marta and Cate took a tall table on the left side of the trivia table. On the table there was a menu of appetizers that were half price for the duration of the trivia night and a list of rules for trivia night.

“Wow that looks fun, should we try our hand at a giftcard for this place?” Marta referred to the grand prize: a thirty dollar gift card to the bar. Cate scoffed.

“You know we might as well. It beats paying full price for some food.” Cate glanced over the menu, deciding what sort of greasy food would hit the spot.

The host for trivia spoke into the mic, checking it to see if it was on. They welcomed everybody and went over the rules for the game. Some general rules: teams must consist of 2-6 players. One player must present their answer to the host per team. The game will consist of ten questions. If needed, a tie breaker will be introduced to the game at the end of the night.

“Alright, everyone, I am going to spin the wheel to decide our first category and question.” The host announced. They gave a large wheel with different colored pie slices and pictures representing categories a spin. “Our first category is Math, get your pencils ready.”

What is the top number of a fraction called?

Marta flew out of her seat and made a run for the host’s table. One the way, she saw that Derek had beat her to the table. She groaned, dramatically throwing her head back.

“Nice to see you, too.” Derek sauntered over to Marta after giving his team’s answer to the host. “Cate is with you?” Marta nodded and confirmed their table’s whereabouts. “Perfect. We can’t see you from our table. We’ll send Reid to the host for the tenth question.” After keeping it short and brief, Derek walked back to their table. Marta walked back to her and Cate’s table. Marta had to tell Cate that she wasn’t fast enough.

The host called everyone’s attention to confirm the correct answer was given. They spun the wheel again, the next category was Music.

How many black keys on a piano?

“Out of 88 keys on a piano, 52 are white and 36 are black.” Spencer recited from memory. Penelope scribbled the number down and made a break for the host. She spotted a brunette low ponytail with her back to her. Penelope recognized Cate. Penelope turned on her heel, and walked back to the table of agents.

It would seem that Cate and Marta held their own against other teams who consisted of more than two people, especially the team of agents across the section. They had been neck and neck for first place. Right now, the agents were in the lead.

The trivia host spun the wheel to decide the category. The wheel seemed to spin forever as it slowed. Finally landing on Science, the host plucked an index card that held the question and answer from a rotating filing system for index cards.

Which scientist is credited for the modern study of genetics?

Cate launched from her seat. Her and Marta were one point from tying with the team in first place. Cate had gotten quite invested in this silly game of trivia. Her competitive side was coming out, and her need for the win was strong. As she was reaching the host’s table she caught sight of a familiar face. She shook her head to keep focused, and gave the host her slip with the answer. Instead of walking back towards her table, she continued to the right of the host, towards Spencer.

“What are you doing here?” Cate stopped in front of him. Spencer held his team’s slip in his long fingers, folding it over nervously.

“Some of my team from the BAU wanted some ‘team bonding’” Spencer told her. It was clicking in his head; Garcia’s persistence, Cate’s last minute change of plans, Derek’s phone call. They had been set up. Cate nodded at him.

“Sounds fun! I’ll catch you later then.” She turned to go back to her table. The host called that there were only two questions left. Cate’s answer was announced as correct, putting her team and Spencer’s team in a tie. The next two points were taken by other teams, but Spencer and Cate’s teams were tied for first. It was the final, tie breaking question for the two teams in first. The wheel spun and landed on pop culture.

Give the five digit code used to access the Ministry of Magic from the red phone booth in Harry Potter.

Cate was ecstatic that her extensive knowledge of the Wizarding World was coming in handy. Marta shoved her in excitement and Cate bounded through tables to get to the host’s booth. Spencer had taken longer than he liked to rifle through his first readthrough of the series. He was glad his long legs allowed him to take long strides. He looked for Cate in the aisle in front of the host’s table. She was on the floor, gripping her ankle. Because there were no other teams to worry about, he moved to go see if she was alright.

Her hair was in her face, and he couldn’t see her face well enough to read her expression. He hadn’t noticed the heels she was wearing. He hadn’t known her to wear heels in all the times they’d hung out. He bent down, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, I think I mis-stepped and rolled my ankle on something.” Cate looked around the floor around her, for what she could’ve stepped on. Spencer held a hand out, ready to help her up. Cate had other plans, though and pulled herself up, pushing him behind her to throw her paper at the host, who was shaking his head laughing.

“That’s cheating!” Spencer looked at her, mouth agape.

“And having a certifiable genius on your team isn’t?” Cate smiled back. With the announcement of Cate and Marta’s win, both teams walked to their partners.

“Well played, Cate.” Derek said as he approached. JJ and Emily introduced themselves to the girls. Cate looked to Penelope. With a smile she extended her hand.

“Nice glasses.” Penelope was wearing the red frames again, Cate remembered Penelope from the coffee cart. Her first taste of the coffee order of Spencer Reid.

“Spencer has definitely met his match with you.” Emily spoke to Cate, the two glancing at Spencer after she said it. A blush was creeping up the back of his neck.

“He definitely didn’t mention how pretty you are!” JJ said. Spencer’s blush made its way to his ears. “No wonder he stops for coffee every morning.” Everyone turned to Marta. “And the coffee is amazing, thank your parents for delivering to the Bureau.” The whole team was loving the change in coffee. It was a definite upgrade from the cheap stuff they used to buy. The team and Marta and Cate pulled chairs over at the agents’ table to converse a little while longer without being in the way of any servers.

Spencer and Cate walked together out the door of the bar, his team had not to subtly been shooting him looks of approval. If Cate had said anything to prove she was remotely compatible with Spencer, they would look at him- wide eyed and raised brows. Spencer had tried not to make eye contact with any other agent at the table.

“6-2-4-4-2.” Spencer spoke first. Cate smiled. “I did know the answer, for the record.”

“Magic.” she replied. “You never cease to amaze me, Spence.” Cate looked up at him, smiling. He just shoved his hands into his cardigan.

Spencer walked her to Marta’s car, Marta already inside waiting for her. He opened the door for her to get in. She smiled a thanks at him. If she smiled like that again at him, Spencer swore he might combust.

In Emily’s car, JJ and Emily were waiting for Spencer to come back. As soon as he shut the door, they were squealing with excitement. The entire ride back to the bureau, they spoke highly of Cate, and pinpointed exactly what qualities they thought balanced Spencer out and how she was his perfect match. Spencer didn’t deny any of their words; he just smiled and thought about Cate. He wasn’t so sure he could keep up being just friends anymore.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #sugar with a side of coffee fanfic

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unemployedadhd · 4 years ago

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Making a Reward System

So people with ADHD (and probably other neurodivergent peeps) can really benefit by making some sort of reward system for themselves, because it provides some structure and positive reinforcement.... things that I very much need.

I had a reward system that worked really well for me in grad school, but now that I’m graduated it needs some tweaking. (I’m going to start off saying that my reward system is complicated by design. why? because it can hold my interest and attention better that way.)

1. Decide what kind of tasks your reward system will reward. Since my focus is a combo of figuring out my professional life, taking care of my mental health, and using this time to build up a sense of self that exists outside of being employed/ in school. I divided my tasks into those three categories.

2. Figure out something that would actually motivate you Personally, I am not very motivated by money, so all those systems that are about putting $ in a jar just don’t work for me. I AM motivated by tiny, inexpensive gifts. So I decided to go with a prize box, because damn, that motivated me in 3rd grade and it still does.

3. Assign value to your tasks/ rewards. This is where my personal system gets a little complicated. I use both star stickers and pebbles as a way of valuing my tasks. So small tasks = 1 star sticker (that’s stuff like making my bed, meditating, reading for 20 minutes. Tasks that I... have trouble doing, but dont actually require that much energy. big tasks= 1 pebble (big tasks are the things on my to-do list that require a lot of time/energy/focus. like applying to jobs, submitting to a magazine, or working on content for the podcast I want to launch.) 3 star stickers= 1 pebble because that made sense to me. Objects in the reward box have varying “pebble prices” something like buying a new video game might be worth 10-15 pebbles, but something smaller like new embroidery thread or some washi tape might be worth 1-5 pebbles.

4. Establish guidelines for your rewards. This is possibly the most important step. The ADHD brain is more likely to give attention to something if it’s interesting, novel, or urgent. Since we’re trying to do positive reinforcement, the things in the prize box should be either interesting or novel. For me, that means hobby related prizes. Like, frankly I dont give a fuck about a tube of bubbles. Is it fun for five minutes? yes. Will the thought of a bubble wand make me sit down and actually meditate like my therapist keeps telling me to? no. BUT fancy new embroidery thread that’s golden?? I will think about that day in and day out. Fun new galaxy stickers for my bullet journal?? I’m so on it. New pens? I’m dead. BUT my guidelines are as followed: prize box items should encourage a hobby, NOT limit accessibility to it. So can fancy new embroidery thread go into the prize box? yes. Will my embroidery hoops or needles go into the prize box? no. because I need those things to do my hobby, but I dont need shiny thread. shiny thread is a a treat. Likewise, I’m never going to put “1 hour of animal crossing” into my prizebox, b/c then I’ll start feeling like I need to earn time to relax (something I often already feel and need to deconstruct). But I might put in some codes to custom designs in my prize box, because those can embellish the game, but wont stop me from playing it.

5. Set up a tracking zone. Mine is on the wall behind my desk, but if you have a white board area it’d make sense to set this up next to that & it’s made up of four components: 1. Star Tracker Sheets: there are two sheets made out of grid-lined paper. one for mental health tasks and one for personal fulfillment tasks. There’s space to each tasks to place a star sticker. 2. To-Do List Area: this is made from chalk & strips of tape with writing on them. Essentially I created a list of tasks I do for various “work” projects (applying to jobs, working on the podcast, submitting my writing to journals). At the start of my work day, I decide which project I want to work on & move the corresponding bit of tape into the box labeled “today’s focus.” When it’s done, I can use the chalk to check it off & give myself a pebble. 3. Pebble Box: I divided an old phone box into three areas: “in progress” pebbles (which are the ones that haven’t been awarded yet), a sticker area, where the sheets are cut into three sticker groupings to make tracking easier, and a “earned pebbles” area where I can put the pebbles that I’ve earned from doing a pebble task, or b/c I did three star-sticker tasks. 4. The Prize Box: I put this somewhere that’s somewhat out of the way, but where I can see it, so that I’m constantly thinking about the fancy embroidery thread & doing tasks so that I can get it.

6. Start using your system! Tweak it as you go along & figure out comes naturally & what doesn’t work for you. & remember that sometimes people with ADHD will stop seeing something if it’s in one place for too long. If you find that this is a useful system, but after a month you start to forget that it exists, then set an alarm for the first of each month & change it up visibly or move it to a different location.

Here’s what mine looks like!

The full view:

Close up on the board to show the sticker sheet vs. pebble task trackers

Here’s the pebble box & stickers. The sticker sheets are cut into three stickers/sheet, since in my system three stickers equal a pebble. so when I finish a sheet, I can clearly see that I need to move a pebble

Prize box! It’s mostly fabric, since that’s what I have on hand right now. When I set up my system for the first time earlier this year, I went out & bought like $10-$20 on small things to fill it. my rule was no more than $2 per item. I think I stuck to it except for the space fabric which was $4. Tea, coffee add-ins, sheet masks, bath bombs, sheet music (if you play an instrument), earring hooks, beads, a plant pot, vouchers for things you can do in video games are all good too. I often put the next book that I want to read in my prize box, so it feels like an event when I finish a book and pick up a new one. Personally, I avoid putting any food/snacks in my prize box, because I find the idea of earning snacks to create some issues in how I think about my relationship to food. So I just avoid it entirely.

#adhd #adhd system #adhd task management #reward systems #adhd schedule #adhd hack #life hack #studyblr #studyblr hack

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rubidusmagnet · 4 years ago

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Beaches and Sandcastle contests

One Piece of Summer Prompt: Beaches, Sandcastles (or sculptures)

Characters: Uni, Heart Pirates

@doctorgerth and @laws-yellow-submarine

Uni was grateful for the time off given to them from their Captain, since after all, the log pose for the island the Tang had currently stopped at was a rather peaceful and benign oceanside beach town known to attract tourists of all kinds including pirates, it was because of this later addition of consumers that prevented Law from fully giving into all the under the sun fun he and the rest of the crew were having, taking full advantage of their shore leave depite the stipulations to stay close to the submarine for now if they planned on having some ‘careless’ fun as their local grumpy boss had put it.

Speaking of that party pooper... Uni tossed a glance from where he was floating on a blue and white striped tube in the surf up towards the beach where Law had relegated himself to at least spend his time sunning himself in yellow trunks beneath the sun on either a towel or against Bepo whenever the Bear came back from soaking himself in the ocean waters, never seeming to mind the small numbing affect such a light splash of sea water probably gave him. Ah, and there he was, it seemed the two have fallen into a short nap by the rise and fall of both of their chests.

Uni need not worry for his Captain getting sunburned as he knew the surgeon was plenty paranoid about matters regarding the health of the body. Instead, he took the time to lean his head back with a squeak of his tube, lazily drifting his long limbs into the cool soothing waters occasionally as he let his thick and fluffy dark brown hair get tugged by the lazy tides.

It wasn’t long however, until his brief lazy drifting was interrupted by a series of harsh splashes before he was suddenly grabbed by someone and dragged off his tube and into the shallow water unceremoniously. Quickly reacting, Uni stood up to his full height before he could accidentally swallow sea water through his chosen solid dark blue bandana for the day. Once he was fully upright, the water from which he was floating on only reached his mid chest while his annoyed dark gaze flit over the amused visage of a certain mischievious Clione who was wadding before him, at least he could take some pleasure in the fact that he was taller than the other.

Waiting for the perfect moment when Clione went to open his mouth to say something, most likely cheeky or playfully taunting to him. Uni launched forward to his surprise and tackled the other into the water with a loud splash, holding onto the other tightly beneath the water for approximately 30 seconds before releasing him and following him back into a stand, his face though hidden from view, now sporting a self satisfies smirk at the others brief gagging.

After coughing up the small amount of sea water he accidentally inhaled on the initial take down, Clione turned watery eyes to a smug looking Uni by the now amused glow in his eyes. Oh have the tables have turned.

“You’re pretty damn sadistic yourself ya know that Uni? Almost like the Captain it’s practically scary to think about.” With a shiver, Uni watched as Clione muttered about ‘Clone Laws’ under his breathe with crossed arms as Clione swiped a hand through thoroughly mussed bowl cut bangs in irritation at being thwarted in his own game.

“Ya know, I actually came out here to tell you something important Uni.”

Raising a disbelieving brow, Uni sought to put down that little theory right away.

“Then why did you drag me off my tube to drown me?”

Jaw dropping, Clione responded back with a punch to his shoulder. “Hey! I wasn’t trying to drown you! if anything, you were the one trying to take me out instead!”

Continuing to play with him for a little bit longer, Uni maintained false seriousness which in a way, was like his own imitation of their Captain with the sadistic gleam coming over Uni’s eyes.

“You know Clione... If I really wanted to drown you, I easily could since you and everyone else knows how long I can hold my breathe, I can even rival Bepo at that!”

A gasp was heard from Clione. “You wouldn’t”

Uni tossed him a wink. “Who knows?”

Realizing where this was headed, Clione had temporarily forgotten about exactly what he intended to say to Uni in the first place and in a bid to escape, attempted to flip himself back wards and began to shuffle and wade quickly through the water until his feet touched sand.

But unfortunately for him, he could not match Uni for speed, so once more, Uni quickly grasped around his middle from behind and in a show of strength, suplexed him headfirst into the water for only 10 seconds longer than before before finally letting up.

Once the two finally dragged themselves ashore after a bout of rough housing in the water did Clione remember what he was going to say, but that wasn’t until after Law got his two cents in, peering at the two of them behind shades while sipping his cool drink. Apparently the Captain was awake unsurprisingly.

“You really should watch out Uni, one of these days you’re gonna drown Clione by accident you know.”

Dramatically gesturing with both arms towards Uni who had to stifle a chuckle at the action, Clione exclaimed. “See! this is what I have to deal with waking up to each day!”

In return for the jab, Uni finally returned the friendly punch from earlier in kind as Law tutted at them from the side before going back to relaxing on his polar bear recliner, who only shifted minutely in his sleep on occasion.

“Well anyways Uni” Clione moved to grasp Uni’s arm to guide him along the beach to where some of the others were apparently gathered. He could see Penguin and Shachi get into a tussle as Ikkaku moved to break them up with a smack to their heads seeing as they were approaching. While slightly behind the group sat Jean Bart who sported black and white tiger-striped trunks on his person, looking gruff as ever as he watched the two first and second mates grasp their smarting heads which were still clad with their hats.

His attention was drawn back to Clione as he explained why he so wanted him to join his impromptu group activity. “I was thinking of a nice little contest we could host with whoever creates the best sand sculpture of Bepo wins a prize.”

Eyebrows raising at the word prize, Uni figured it had something to do with their usual system of winner gets out of chores for the week, but with Clione he wasn’t so certain about that, it could be anything.

When asked what that prize was, Clione simply shushed him with a finger over his lips and a wink before splitting off as they made their way into the small group.

As the apparent leader of such activities, and seeing as everyone was there that Clione had invited and accepted, he began to hash out the rules, of course stating that he was to be the de facto judge of each sculpture as well as the prize giver. To which Uni rolled his eyes at while Shachi and Penguin gave a few boos. “Shouldn’t I be the judge? I’m 2nd mate after all!”

“Hold on! I should be the one because I’m first mate here!”

In order to get a step on Penguin, Shachi pointed out the fact that maybe Bepo should judge since he’s the model after all. But one quick group glance over to the sleeping Mink changed everyones minds quickly as no one dared to disturb his slumber, especially if the insomniac Captain was resting with him as well.

“Well anyways, if it wasn’t obvious already, there will be a time limit for you guys to finish up on your Bepo sandcastles before I come and check them out... and no sabotaging is allowed are we clear?”

A huff sounded in unison, especially from the two disheartened first and second mates who had hoped to get in each others ways during the little competition. “Understood.”

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

The time limit as Clione called it was just within the next hour, he held off on starting the timer until everyone had gotten out the supplies necessary in creating their own depiction of Bepo. Buckets ranged from small to massive in Jean Bart’s case to be used in order to pack wet sand together along with various sculpting tools if necessary.

And in order to make room for each other depending on the size of it, and considering the sheer size of Jean bart’s hands, it was believed that his was bound to be the largest sculpture of them all.

As the timer was set, everybody got to work bringing buckets of sea water over to their area of beach to begin the sculpting process. And not wanting to sike himself out by looking at the others progress, Uni began to mold together a large round mound of wet sand with full intention on using the currently sleeping bear mink as his model.

Unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t the only one with that idea as a majority of the group bar Jean bart were going for the same idea.

‘Guess it’ll be down to who makes the best sleeping polar bear huh?’

Uni didn’t mind the extra pressure of having to compete against other sculptures of a similar type, since after all, he was typically reliable under pressure. The ones he specifically didn’t have to worry about winning was Shachi and Penguin who judging by the disappointed moans and groans coming from their direction, meant they were both not having a good time with their sculpting abilities or lack thereof.

A singular glance up was all it took to confirm his suspicions as he moved onto forming the basis of the limbs and head for his miniature sculpture. Apparently the pair had been foolish enough to believe that being closer to the surf would help strengthen the stability of.... Whatever it was they were trying to make as it was not remotely anything like Bepo.

An amused huff passed Uni’s lips before he continued on his way, now onto scraping out excess sand in order to best mimic a face for the beloved navigator (It looks something like this- :-3). Pleased with his work there, Uni continued on to using the tips of his fingers to create small claws after he cut up the ‘arm’ mounds to mimic fingers. It really was unfortunate that Bepo chose to lay on his stomach as Uni was looking forward to potentially recreating those soft pink pads of his but oh well, maybe next contest if he happens to be the model again.

It wasn’t long after he finished up on his attempt at ears did Clione’s loud voice call for an immediate stop in sculpting. Now it was time to declare a winner.

Uni’s earlier assumptions were correct when with just one look at Penguins and Shachi’s sand sculptures, he shook his head at them and continued on, not needing to say anything to the pouting 1st and 2nd in commands. And there was no winning for them anyways with the piles of sand and sticks poking out that looked more like a sand monster than any kind of mink.

The pair were quickly shushed before they could disrupt Clione’s ‘concentration’ in selecting a winner when to uni it should be obvious who it was. And he wasn’t being presumptuous by believing he won at all, because even though he and Clione were best friends and like brothers every other time, Clione got serious when it came to these silly little contests, especially when he got to be the judge. So whenever events like this happen, No amount of closeness was going to sway Clione’s scrutiny in his favor as much as Uni might secretly want it to.

The top three was down to himself, Ikkaku, and jean Bart now. though it wasn’t long until Uni was knocked out for an apparent lack of ‘realism’ in his attempt. And Uni shrugged it off, he wasn’t exactly aiming for the win but to only spend some time with his nakama but now it was down to the wire, only the sole woman on their crew or jean was going to get the win now.

And gods did it take a while for him to decide. Clione had gotten extra quiet at this point, with his chin cradled between his left thump and forefinger in deliberation. At the very least, he was doing a good job at making the other two sweat waiting for his final judgement.

Finally, without really any explanation, Clione pointed at Jean Bart to indicate him as the winner of the contest. And giving the half-giants sculpture a once over, Uni had to whistle in agreement. It shouldn’t have been a contest at all considering the detail the former slave was able to get down to and with the biggest model of all of them, it seemed Jean was able to practically recreate a life sized version of the navigator standing up no less!

Ikkaku’s though going with the trend everyone else had gone for, was actually much neater than Uni’s which was probably exactly why he had lost if he had to guess. Not to mention some neater detailing as well, but nothing was going to beat jean and Clione said as much.

“Sorry for giving the rest of you guys hope, but Jeans is the best hands down.”

A hum of agreement rang our around the circle, it was practically agreed upon right then, that this model should be allowed to stay up for as long as possible while the rest were quickly stomped on to rejoin the rest of the beach as a flat soft surface.

Letting his lanky body drop down onto his back, Uni didn’t dare look up to see exactly what Clione had to give as a gift for Jean. Nor did he mind listening to the others still at play all around him. The contest being over, Uni wanted to take the time to get some rest himself as Bepo and his Captain were doing. The grit and dampness of the sand actually doing their work in settling him into a light nap at the natural feel of the earth below his body.

This day as any other time was bound to be a precious memory for Uni to keep in his heart for all time until another one can be made. The simplicity of it all left a smile on hidden features as he closed his eyes for just a little while. He could definitely count on someone waking him up for supper time in the galley should he fall in too deeply into the land of dreams on future adventures.

#one piece of summer #Ummmmm I might have practically written chapter here but here we go #doctorgerth #laws-yellow-submarine #Day at the beach #Heart Pirates #Ikkaku #Uni #Penguin #Shachi #Bepo #Jean Bart #Trafalgar law #And what gift did Clione give?#who knows #only Clione does #Clione

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niqhtlord01 · 5 years ago

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Humans are weird: Threatening a human does not end well

The Cosmic Federation was a governing body that composed of some 87 different species which at times ruled over a single planet to seven entire solar systems. The Federation’s purpose was to maintain peace and stability throughout the galaxy and was hailed as the shinning beacon of freedom and justice. In reality it was nothing more than a front for power hungry governments. There was a time when the Federation still had some teeth and was actually respected. However, over the years the power of the federation was chipped away at by none other than its members themselves, granting more and more autonomy to members until the real power was held by some ten species in the Cosmic Federation. Each one with their power base and sphere of influence which often overlapped causing feuds and at the worst of times open conflict. The only thing that kept them in check was incidentally each other. Whenever one of the ten would begin rising higher than the others the rest would converge on them and chop them down to size. That was the way it had always been, until now...... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The room on board the pleasure yacht was as opulent as it was breath taking, but nestled on the top deck of the ship was the most prized room of all. A glass dome on the top bathed in the light of the surrounding nebula. The waves of vibrant greens and yellows coupled with the softest of reds made the entire room look like a living work of art. Truly majestic sight...that was entirely lost on the people currently in the room, one of whom was so caught up in rechecking the table for the twelfth time. “Is everything ready? We only have one chance to win them over.” Misilla straightened the silverware one more time then stepped back to examine her work once again. The table was set for five of them with their guest being given the seat of “honor” at the head of the table. She had done her background on their guest and his peoples traditions indicated that the one at the head of a table held the most power. “You should really let the help take care of that.” Misilla was too busy to turn around and acknowledge Brumark’s statement. He was standing around a waiting table off to the side of the room pouring two drinks. He handed one to Tilith beside him and took the other for himself. “Agreed.” Tilith said as she sipped it through her mandibles. “We are people of stature, we have help for such lowly tasks.” Misilla slightly shifted a napkin and glass to the right before stepping back one more and letting out a sigh of relief. She went over to the two of them and poured herself a drink now as well. She took it and downed it in a single go. “The help sometimes make mistakes, I do not. That is why when something important comes up, I take care of it so it is perfect.” Brumark rolled his eyes and made to pour another drink when Misilla did it for him. “Your peoples micromanaging will be the death of you one day you know.” He chuckled. “My peoples micromanaging is what gave us a 20% increase in trade profits last quarter while your people have had to apply for no less then 17 intergalactic loans from my people.” She smirked at Brumark’s blushing face. The scene playing out between the three of them was one not many would believe. Misilla was a Parziean, a race of blue skinned humanoid beings where the females dominated society. Brumark was from a people also confusingly called “Brumark’s”. It was a weird tradition of his people that all would be named after their god, Brumark. However, his people did have the exclusive ability to change pitch when pronouncing the name so that to them they can instantly distinguish each other. He was large and grey skinned with a Mohawk running from his head down his back. Tilith was the most odd among them as she was a member of the insectoid Hive. Her appearance was that of a humanoid body fused to the top of a spider body. Her people had initially attempted to expand violently but quickly realized that an entire galaxy turning against them was a terrible idea. So they sued for peace and switched to the long game. Even going so far as to partially cover their insect face to put others at ease, the silver strands that ran down her face rustled every time her mandibles moved when she spoke. Each of them were members of the inner ten that ran the Federation from the shadows, and each of them would never be seen together in the open. It ran the risk of exposing them and if one of them was caught they would become a huge risk to the others. This was a special occasion however, even all three of them chatting like friends and having drinks was part of the plan to win over their guest. They needed them to feel as if they could trust them, that they could be relied on, and that becoming partners with them would be to their benefit. The doors to the room open and all three of them turned to see who was entering. The fourth member of their little group stepped in, Joba. He was a squat and piggish in appearance, but his people were some of the finest miners and bankers the galaxy had ever seen. His fingers were adorned with a wide variety of gems that sparkled like a rainbow and wore a robe of the finest silk. As he saw the three he raised his arms to them. “Ah my friends! I am glad to see you have already started the party without me. I was worried you would become bored with my delay.” Brumark raised his glass. “Joba my friend, if I had been truly bored I would have drunk half your supply by now and be passed out the floor!” He let out a booming laugh that all of them joined in on. “My friends, let me introduce our honored guest.” Joba stepped aside and waved in the figure behind him. A clacking sound could be heard as the figure stepped out from the shadow of the door frame and into the light. The simple walking stick is what first drew the attention of the three. A simple wooden staff with a birds head carved into the headpiece, a “eagle” they think it was called. Next were the clothes, simple but with a hint of the guests former military career showing off them as they were wrinkle free and pressed to near perfection, something that Misilla took note of instantly. Finally rising to look their guest in the face they saw the mustached face of the human representative Earl von Morgan, a former military general who had been recently elected to speak for his people. As he approached the three he extended his hand. “It is an honor to finally meet my fellow members, and such respected ones at that.” Earl spoke with a thick German accent. Brumark stepped forward and shook Earl’s hand, though given the size difference it was safer to say Brumark’s hand enveloped Earl’s and they just shook. “The honor is mine. I read over your history, you were a great warrior to your people.” Burmark saw an angry look on Joba’s face at the past tense mention but before Brumark could correct himself Morgan laughed. “You are too kind my friend. I was but a general at the end of my career. The most dangerous thing I had to do at the time was avoid getting paper cuts while signing forms!” Morgan laughed again and Brumark joined in. Next Morgan moved to Misilla. As she extended her hand Morgan took it and bowed down to kiss it. Misilla was taken aback slightly by this and did not know how to react. Seeing the expression on her face Morgan realized he may have offended her. “Forgive me if I have disgraced you, my people’s customs are deeply ingrained in me. On my planet this is how a man greets a woman respectfully.” He followed up with a bow. “You truly are a gentleman Mr. Morgan.” Misilla chimed and bade him to rise. “It is I who should be apologizing. I find it rare among my people to find a male with such degrees of respect and was taken aback.” He rose and smiled at her. Finally Tilith stepped forward but did not extend her hand. “I understand my species is considered horrific to many others and would not wish to force you into a situation you detested.” Morgan looked puzzled for a second before smiling again. “My dear, beauty is always in the eye of the beholder. One should not hide themselves for you hide yourself from those that wish to gaze upon your beauty.” He extended a hand towards her regardless and Tilith looked at it for a moment before taking it and watched puzzled as he repeated the same gesture of bowing and kissing her talon hand. “You know,” he said as he rose, “there are people on my planet that would find you most attractive.” Tilith tilted her head to the side. “Surely you jest.” Morgan shook his head. “I swear to you that I am not. I dare say some would be lining up to try and court you.” Tilith continued looking at him in silence to see if he was telling the truth while the others remained silent, unsure how to respond to this awkward situation. Morgan released her hand and continued smiling at her. “Remind me to tell you after our meeting about a place called “Japan” on my world.” “That is most flattering of you to say and I must say I am intrigued.” she said as she bowed, her mind now distracted with questionable ideas the human had put in her head. Joba stepped in. “Now that we have introductions out of the way I insist we must eat!” He motioned everyone to their seats. As he led Morgan to his seat Morgan suddenly stopped. “I couldn’t possibly sit at the head of the table.” He said while looking down at Joba. Joba looked concerned as if he had slipped up something in his research before Morgan continued. “You are the host of this party, it would be incredibly rude of me to take the head seat.” Joba let out a sigh before patting Morgan on the back. “Come now my friend, you are our guest! Please, I insist!” He waved him over once again and Morgan finally relented and accepted the seat and gazed down at the others. “Now, for our first dish.....” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After several meals all of the guests were content. “Did you enjoy the meal?” Misilla asked Morgan. He patted his stomach and happily gazed back up at Misilla. “The food was so good it made me honestly consider getting surgery to enlarge my stomach so I can have more. Please pass along my compliments to your cooks.” She smiled at the remark. “ I am sure they will be most flattered to hear your words.” Misilla reached for a bell on the table and rang it. A group of servants rushed into the room without a word and quickly removed all of the plates and cutlery from the table while laying out new drinks and glasses before leaving again. Joba poured himself a drink. “Now that the meal is out of the way it is time to discuss the real matter for this meeting.” As the others poured themselves drinks shutters began closing around the glass dome cutting off the light until only the candle light was present. Joba moved to pour a new drink for Morgan who politely declined. “I had a feeling there was more to this meeting than just a introduction.” “Indeed there is my friend.” Joba put down a device and with a spark of light it suddenly projected a map of the galaxy. Color coded borders soon began forming and showed the displacement of the larger governing bodies. “It is widely known that the worst kept secret in the Cosmic Federation is that there exists an inner group of members that holds all the true power. What isn’t known is who those members are specifically.” He gestured to the other members at the table. “We, are four of those members.” They all looked towards Morgan for a response but he merely clasped his hands and looked on in silence. “Recently,” Joba continued,”one of the other ten has become increasingly profitable and threatens the balance between the other nine.” “I assume you are referring to the Poltarks?” All of them stared at Morgan in surprise. “How did you know?” “We humans may be a young species but we are not a stupid one. We can put two and two together.” Morgan chuckled at their confused faces. Joba coughed and continued. “Yes. Despite our warnings the Poltarks have been increasing in power over the last generation to the point that they are now easily as powerful as three of the ten put together. If this is left unchecked they could become a threat to all of us.” “So why do you need my help?” Morgan cut in. Brumark turned to him and laughed. “What makes you think we need your help?” Morgan smiled. “Like I said, we humans can put together two and tow at times and this scene isn’t really knew to my people either.” He gestured to everyone. “A new member suddenly meeting with the top leaders out of the blue, topped with how all of you have been so polite to me. You’re trying to butter me up and win me over.” None of them spoke. It seems that humans were more politically savvy then was initially thought. “We do not need your help in taking down the rouge member,” Tilith said,”we are more than powerful enough to do that ourselves.” “What we need from you is to merely stand aside.” Misilla said as she leaned over the table slightly. Morgan looked at her and smirked as he saw through her terrible attempt at being seductive. “You share the largest border with the Poltarks. We were hopping you could convince your leadership to stand aside when we make our move. In return, well, we’ll have an open seat on the ruling ten that will need to be filled.” Joba smiled as he outstretched his hand to Morgan. “What do you say?” There was a long silence as Morgan looked down at Joba’s hand. He chuckled. “Thank you for the dinner but I am afraid I will have to decline your offer.” Joba’s hand twitched slightly. “I beg your pardon?” “I said humanity will not be taking you up on your offer, tempting as it may be. Though I do hope we can build better relationships to further understanding between our peo-” “SHUT IT!” Joba shouted, smashing his hand down on the table. “HOW DARE YOU YOU RUNT!” Morgan was unphased by Joba’s outburst and it looked like he would continue before Misilla put a calming hand on his shoulder. “May I ask why you decline?” Morgan shrugged. “Simply put we have a defensive alliance pact with with the Poltarks for several years now. We have no just cause to break it and are obligated to defend them if they are attacked.” “Secondly, given how easily your inner circle seems to turn on each other at the slightest change, even being a member would hardly be a stable footing for us to build relationships on considering you all would be likely to destroy humanity at any moment.” “And finally,” Morgan letting out a smirk, “it never seemed to dawn on any of you why the Poltarks had become so increasingly powerful out of the blue.” He glanced around the room at their confused faces. “For all your research into human culture you didn’t even spend time researching our trade agreements did you?” Still, only faces of confusion met him. “Oh my Gott. You really are going to make me spell it out aren’t you? Humanity has been trading with the Poltarks, we’re the reason they became so powerful.” The others looked on in shock. “Impossible!” Brumark said. “It is hard to believe given your...” Tilith began before stopping herself. “It’s alright, we know we are technologically inferior to you all.” Morgan chipped in. “But it turns out we have a cash crop that the galaxy loves and only grows on earth for some reason. Everybody loves the potato so we use the Poltarks as a go between to sell it and then get a cut of the profits while they get a booming trade industry.” “That does not make sense.” Misilla cut in. “Why would you give them a monopoly when you could have it all for yourself?” Morgan shrugged. “Simply put we are testing the waters.We can cut the supply at any time but for now we are content getting a cut and a powerful ally in the mix.” “This changes things then.” Joba said quietly. Morgan nodded and rose from his seat. “I’m glad I could change your minds about your move against the Poltarks.” “Allow me to show you back to your ship.” Tilith said as she also rose from her seat. “I would be delighted to share the pleasure of your company a bit longer Hive Lord Tilith.” he said while smiling. Her head cocked to the side for a moment making morgan smile even more. “I did my research on you all as well my friends.” The two began moving towards the door to leave. “You misunderstood me Earl von Morgan.” Joba cut in as they pair had just reached the door. “I said it changes things, but I did not say how.” He flicked the controls on the holographic map to show the Poltraks territory being carved up and divided. “We’ve tried playing nice, now we play dirty. If you do not adhere to our demands and remain out of the coming conflict, you will be next.” The map began changing showing human territory being attacked and divided up as well. “Do you understand runt?” Morgan’s smile faded away. “I’m sorry.” He said as he began walking back to Joba, his cane clanking ever louder as he got closer. “It seems in my old age my hearing is failing me.” He stood before Joba who still sat down in his seat. “I could not hear you from way,” he motioned to the door where Tilith was waiting,” over there. But it sounded like you were threatening me Joba. Surely though I was mistaken.” It was Joba’s turn to smirk as he took his glass and sipped from it. “You heard right you stupid primate. Do what we say, or you will be the next to fall.” Morgan glanced at Misilla and Burmark. “And you two feel the same?” They said nothing, but nodded. “Right...well then.” Calmly, Morgan detached the head of his cane which turned out to be the handle for a concealed revolver. In one swift motion he shot the glass Joba was holding in his hand sending glass fragments flying. Misilla dove under the table and Brumark made to rise before Morgan leveled the gun at him. Brumark froze in place until Morgan motioned for him to sit down. Joba was still staring at his hand that was now bleeding from the shattered glass and mumbling incoherent words. “Smart enough to get a gun past your fancy guards and detection fields though, aye Joba?” Morgan leaned down to say into Joba’s ear. “Do I have your undivided attention now?” Joba nodded rapidly. He turned to Brumark. “What about you, do I have your attention?” Brumark nodded. Morgan looked for Misilla who was still hiding under the table. “My dear if I had wanted to kill you I would have shot you first. Now will you please take your seat.” She slowly got up from under the table and sat down. “Was that meant to comfort me?” she asked shakily. “I’ll admit it’s not my best line, but it got you out from under the table.” He took a step back and sat back down at the head of the table, his gun still leveled at Brumark. “I honestly want us to be friends.” he said, his pearly teeth showing. “So as a friend I will give you all this warning and hope you will take it seriously.” After confirming he had their full attention Morgan continued. “Do not interfere with Humanity or our allies. But more to the point, do not ever, ever, think you can threaten us by saying you will destroy us. You think you know the meaning of the word but I assure you my people have lived it and we are more than happy to share our understanding of its meaning should any of you be foolish enough to drag us into a war. We will not just meet you on the battlefield, oh no, that would be too easy.” He tapped the gun against the table. “We would meet you in your homes as well. And your places of work, and your schools, and your supermarkets, your parks, your water treatment facilities, your power plants, your space docks, your farms and fields, your hospitals, and your places of worship.” He emphasized the last point while staring down Brumark. “We will turn your entire world into a warzone and any notion of peace and stability will be thrown out the window as every morning you will wake up in fear if your next meal has been poisoned, will your vehicle suddenly explode when you start it up, will that friendly looking neighbor of your strangle you as you walk by. A life of fear will be your new domain.” They looked at Morgan’s face to see that he was dead serious. “I am an old man, far out of his prime.” Morgan gestured to himself, waving the gun up and down his body. “Yet I was able to sneak a weapon into a room with some of the most powerful leaders in the galaxy on their most “secure” boat.” “It’s a yacht actually.” Misilla stammered, unable to stop herself. Morgan nodded to her. “Pardon my error Lady Misilla. I was able to sneak a loaded weapon on to your yacht and should I have wanted murdered all of you and then stroll out of here.” “You do not want to see what our black ops division operatives can do when they are actually in their prime. They’d have your governments gutted in a week and have the weekend off for partying over your rotting corpses.” He pointed the gun back at Joba. “Do we have an understanding?” Joba’s eyes flashed between the gun and Morgan. “Yes, yes we have an understanding.” Morgan tucked the gun away into his cane and began walking back to Tilith. “Excellent. I just bought this suit and I wasn’t really in the mood to have to explain to the dry cleaner why it was covered in blood.” He reached Tilith and extended an arm. “Shall we my Hive lord?” She looked back at the table and then back at Moran. She gently wrapped a talon hand around his arm. “We shall.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- They both walked in silence back to Morgan’s ship. Tilith glanced over at him every now and only saw his gentle smile as he gazed at the passing artworks hanging from the walls. “Tell me,” she said after finally working up the courage,”why did you not threaten me as well?” Morgan laughed as he continued walking. “Because out of all of them I could see you were the only one with any actual interest in my people.” This puzzled Tilith. “How did you come about that conclusion?” He raised his cane and nudged it towards his eyes. “I could see it in your eyes my dear Hive Lord.” “But you can barely see them through my shroud?” Morgan shrugged. “True, but having eight of them does help with that.” He turned to face her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. With so many eyes what do your species glasses look like? Or do you wear contacts instead?” Tilith laughed honestly for the first time in a long time. Here she was with a man who had just threatened the most powerful people in the galaxy with a gun, and yet he was as calm as a river asking about glasses. “I will tell you only if you uphold your promise from earlier and tell me of this “Japan”. It is rare for my people to be welcomed openly so this place does intrigue me.” “Of course I will, and dare I say that I also think this is the start of a friendship that will rock the galaxy to its core.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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gingerwritess · 5 years ago

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hiii

sorry i was in the mood for some pining so here’s this angsty lil thing. i’m going to continue it don’t worry and just imagine this is with thor 1 loki, smol lil greasy weasel who doesn’t know anything about love ugh

also just think. this angstiness ends happily in love with beautiful children, elliot and baby 2 ;) i just want to explore how we got there!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Let’s play a game.”

Loki leans forward on his forearms—you find yourself drawn towards him, too.

“Let’s touch each other,” he murmurs, and you immediately push away from him in disgust.

“Every time I think you’ve changed—”

“No, that’s not…that’s not what I meant.” He rubs his eyes with two fingers and a sigh. “We should touch, as in we should try not shying away from each other’s touch.”

A cold hand moves to cover your clenched fist.

“Let’s not refuse each other’s hands,” he continues, “let’s welcome arms around our waists, let’s…speak sweetly and kindly to each other, touch our lips together. Frequently.”

You swallow hard. “Sounds like you’re saying we should date.”

“No.” He shakes his head, something scarily close to fear crossing his eyes. “No, this wouldn’t be dating, courting, committing, love…this would be just another game for us to play.”

“What’s the prize? How do I win?”

“First one to fall loses.”

“That doesn’t scare you?” You can’t help it and lean in closer to hear his almost-whispered voice. “Living like that? So close to each other? So close to being in love?”

He bares his teeth in something between a scowl and a pained grimace. “If its a game, then I can win. I can beat you, best you in another competition and then everything that we…” his voice falters as he gestures between the two of you. “Everything that w-we might have been can be buried in the past, and the both of us leave each other better off.”

“Better off,” you repeat, casting your gaze to your connected hands. That feels scarily right. “We’d be better off without each other, right?”

“Absolutely,” he breathes. “I’m a disease in your blood, and I don’t want you.”

“Alright.”

You stand, a stoicism to your face as if you were marching into a war. Loki has to remind himself you are.

“Three days to win,” he smiles, lacing your fingers together. It’s an empty smile, just another illusion as he ignores the warmth of your hand in his. “Three days and we part ways all the better. As unlikely acquaintances. Agreed?”

In that moment, staring down at him smiling up at you, you bury the last fragment of Loki that you allowed to take hold in your heart—he doesn’t want you, he’s made that clear, and it’s true. He is toxic for you, he’s an alien, for god’s sake, nothing about the two of you could work.

Unnatural, misfitting, just wrong, horribly tempting as it has been as long as you knew him. Three days and you’ll never have to see him again, just…win this competition.

It’s easier, I guess, to acknowledge a sin and keep doing it, knowing you’ll fix yourselves in three days time.

* * * *

“I don’t like this,” you whisper, welcoming his tongue once again into your mouth.

His grip on your hips tightens and he pulls away, staring up at you with dark eyes and parted lips still glistening from you. “You don’t?”

“Don’t stop.”

Mouths meet once more, hot and cold, ice and fire thrashing and burning and freezing over again and again and this time it’s your hands in his hair, rough and pulling his head back to better reach his lips.

“You’re stupid,” you groan when he gently bites your bottom lip, “I hate you, Loki, despise you, I really do. I don’t like this.”

For the first time, you’ve got him gasping for breath along with you, and he grins against your exploring tongue. “Am I winning?”

”I’m—trying—” you kiss him harder, rocking your hips and running your hand down his neck “—to make you lose.”

Those dreaded hands, something now that seem straight out of your nightmares, slide under your shirt, ice against your bare skin.

“Stop that,” you seethe, jolting at the new sensation. “Stop, Loki, I’m not crossing that line for this stupid game.”

His hands return to your hips—he curses himself, that wasn’t supposed to happen. He almost slipped.

You take that as your cue to roll off of him, a hand on his chest pushing him away until your lips break apart with a pop. Arms cross over your chest and you throw a sideways glance at the young god, noting the flush on his cheeks and heaving of his chest, the hands over his groin undeniably covering something he’d rather not confess to.

“I think I win today,” you tell him as you stand, a hint of smugness in your voice. You adjust your shirt, wipe off your mouth with the back of your hand. Grab your bag and head to the door, as if making Loki wish he could have you is just another errand you run.

“You’ll want me tomorrow,” he calls out before you leave, voice hoarse and strangled.

Bastard.

I want you today.

You give him a cold smile, thin ice that’s already cracking. “Good luck with that.”

* * * *

He knows he’s losing—three nights in a row he’s lost sleep because of you, and tonight it’s making him livid.

Gods, he wants you.

Badly.

For selfish and vain reasons, he knows, but that doesn’t change anything. He wants you, and Loki Odinson does what he wants.

It’s the only power he’s been given his entire life, just the power to control what he gets, what he does; the only way for him to feel a sick control of himself is to stop at nothing to get or do what he wants.

But he wants you.

He’s tired of wanting.

Loki won his stupid game today. You played to his rules, you called him your sweetheart, he called you his darling, he pushed aside his more carnal desires long enough to win…but today when he kissed you, you broke down in tears.

Victory is sour.

It was supposed to work—give in to the clearly wrong desire to be together for three days only, try it knowing it’s a guise, just to empty your systems of each other before Loki leaves for Asgard once and for all.

He’s back in his chambers, alone, noticing too much: too big of a bed, too big of a shower, everything is too big just for him. After a painful shower trying to scrub your touch out of his skin, he lays in his too big bed and lets himself slip.

It’s a pipe dream, the fantasy of a child, but he dredges it up from the pits of his mind before he can stop himself.

A hand intertwined with his, soft lips against his own. A smile for him across a room, chiming laughter at his doing. A home, just for him and the blank face that’s filled this spot for centuries, a home with a bed that wouldn’t feel so empty.

You start taking that blank space and suddenly it’s you, all you and you’re holding a child, a baby that looks like him, you’re smiling for Loki, laughing with his child and holding out your hand to him. Then he kisses you and you don’t cry.

Oh gods above, he wants you.

The god rolls onto his stomach in the empty bed and buries his face in the pillows; you’re kissing him with gentle lips, whispering in his ear as he shows you the Asgardian night sky, softly touching him with warm hands that only make him crave more of you.

He needs to stop thinking about this—his eyes close and you’ve knocked his book out of his hands to take its place, straddling his lap and kissing away every last trouble or insecurity he’s ever felt in all the years he’s been alive.

Stop. this.

The worst part is that now he knows you want him, too.

The projection of you in his mind reaches for the hem of your shirt and Loki’s eyes fly wide open—NO.

Not crossing that line, you said. He has to respect that.

“I want you,” Loki whispers aloud, hating himself for actually forming the words in the air in front of him. “I want you, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.”

* * * *

You’re no better off, back on earth, but when Loki materialises on the sidewalk on your walk to work, the last thing you’re even close to feeling is happy to see him.

“You won,” you snap, taking another bite of your half a bagel and not slowing your pace. “Leave me alone, Loki.”

“Please listen to me.” He’s walking like royalty, a cool and collected facade, but you can hear the desperation in his voice. “For just a moment, please, give me a chance.”

A shake of your head and you cross the street, followed close behind by the persistent god. “Your coffee’s gone cold,” he hums after a moment, hands clasped behind his back. “Let me get you a fresh cup, ten minutes is all I ask.”

A sip of the coffee that you just bought for upwards of five dollars tells you Loki definitely turned that cappuccino ice cold just now.

Asshole.

“I’m only doing this for the coffee,” you tell him as you stand in line at the nearest coffee shop, Loki next to you trying to count bills and sort a handful of coins.

Disgustingly domestic, he notices as he drops a couple coins, this is practically a date. Standing in line together, buying each other things. You grabbing the money out of his hand and counting it for him, calling him an idiot.

His heart swells.

Of course, it’d be nice if you felt the same. Or would give him even half a smile.

But…your brow stays furrowed as you shove past him after ordering, flopping into a seat by the window and taking an angry bite of your bagel. He follows cautiously, wishing he could understand you.

“Well?” You wave a hand at the chair across the table. “Start talking.”

“You want me.” He sits back in his chair, looking so damn sure of himself. “And I’m not going to be the one to keep you from what you want.”

“No.”

“What?”

You grab your fresh cup of coffee, nod to the god across the table, and stand to leave. “I don’t want you. Thank you for the drink, I’m leaving now.”

“No!” Loki shoots to his feet and grabs your arm, making you jump and wrench your arm from his grip. He quickly drops you and holds his hand up. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, please…please stay. Just a second longer.”

Against your better judgment, you slowly sit back down.

“You say you lost the game,” Loki starts, carefully stepping around his words. “Which means you admit to falling in love with me. Yes?”

“Those were the rules.” You drum your fingers on the table, unamused.

“If you have fallen in love with me…then you want me.”

“No.”

Loki’s fist hits the table with a loud thud. “Yes, you do.”

“No.”

“Why not?” The facade cracks and Loki slumps in his chair, shoulders sagging like a defeated man. “At least tell me why, what you mean. Please.”

“You made me a game, Loki.” You can’t help but laugh, humourless and cold. “You literally made any feelings we had for each other into a game, idiot, and now you think that made me fall for you??”

He gives a tiny shrug. “I…competing allows me to win.”

“So you’re afraid of losing?”

“No,” he snaps, and you raise an eyebrow at him that makes him scowl. “No, I’m not afraid of losing. Don’t make me into a child.”

“Look,” you sigh, dropping your forehead to your hand. “If you’re just going to deny everything I say then there’s no point in us talking.”

Arms cross. Lips press together. A wave hitting a seaside cliff, unmoving.

“I just don’t understand,” he finally mutters, and you take a drink as he searches for the right words. “I…I want you.”

“You admit that?”

He hesitates and looks down at the table. “Yes.”

“You made me a game,” you remind him, finishing your breakfast and picking up your bag again. “You made me a game and said you won, but I guess we both lost. Thanks again for the coffee, Loki.”

You’re halfway out the door when a cold hand grabs yours and spins you back around. “Loki, I’m going to be late…”

“I get it.” He brings your hand to his lips and you try not to cringe. “I understand. You’re not a game, and that was my mistake.”

“And?”

The god smiles, a desperate and pleading attempt to show himself to you, getting nothing in return. “You’re not a game, you…you are the prize, coveted by many but won by few—”

“Go home, Loki.”

You’ve pulled your hand from his grip and walked out the door before he can even process what just happened.

* * * *

“I want you!” He’s running, for the first time you’ve seen, he’s running after you and dodging people on the busy sidewalks as he calls after you. “I admit to it, I want you, please—”

You turn on your heel and he nearly crashes into you, chest to chest for a blissful second before your finger is in his face, sharp as your words.

“Why would I want someone who wants me??” You jab your finger into his chest. “Someone who wants me all to themselves, as a prize, a trophy, someone so selfish all they can think of is wanting me—”

“What are you talking about??” Loki feels on the verge of tears; disgusting.

“I don’t want you, Loki.”

“You said you fell for me, said that I won, what is that supposed to mean then??”

“I don’t want you,” you repeat, shaking your head in disbelief at the young god raging in front of you. “I want to love you, Loki, I don’t want you.”

People around the two of you keep pushing, the throng nudging your shoulders as you stare at each other, Loki’s mind racing.

“I’m not a prize for you to win.” You give him a small smile and shoulder your bag. “If all I am to you is something you want, then I don’t think I can love you. Go back home.”

He can’t tear a single word from his throat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you laugh and rest a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But you need to grow up. Maybe stop by when you’re mature enough to separate wanting from needing, lust and love, and maybe we can talk.”

Want and need, lust and love...his head spins and the god feels faint.

“I can’t wait for you, though.” Your smile turns sad, at least he likes to think it did. “Go home, Loki.”

Watching you walk away might be the hardest thing Loki has ever had to do.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

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