#I RAN TO MY TABLET AS SOON AS I SAW THE SHOP ANNOUNCEMENT

[goshushin]

あの薔薇柄シャツがー！シャツがー！ kiis 🌹🌱

#KIIS FANS ARE EATING SO WELL THIS MONTH IT'S UNBELIEVABLE #I RAN TO MY TABLET AS SOON AS I SAW THE SHOP ANNOUNCEMENT #THANK YOU FOR THE FOOD #blue lock #bllk #ブルーロック #ブルーロックFA #kiis #kaisagi #カイ潔 #michael kaiser #isagi yoichi #doodle #rkgk #fanart

[awanderingdeal]

How about Nado meeting Kuny’s parents

Do with that as you please

Happy

Sad

I don’t mind

Love, Trash Monster :)

Hello Trash Monster! Thank you for your prompt. This one kind of got away with me and loved writing it. It’s actually rather angsty for me, but there is a happy ending. 

CW: coming out, homophobia (mentions of potential harm to queer people), food mentions, very minor sexual content 

Please let me know if you feel I need to add any warnings

Rating: T+ (sexual content is very minor, but the subject content is a bit heavy at points)

Credit for the sweater weather universe goes to @lumosinlove

"You know you don't have to tell them if you don't want to," Jackson grazed his thumb reassuringly over his boyfriend's hand where they were clenched together. They had been sat stiffly on the sofa for the last 20 minutes, waiting for the knock on the door that would announce the arrival of Evgeni's parents.

"I'm want," Evgeni sighed, his words barely a whisper. "I'm just scared. I don't know what they think. What if they hate me?"

Jackson clutched Evgeni's hand tighter, lifting it to his mouth to press his lips gently against his skin. "Zhenya, I mean it. I love you and I will still love you even if you decide you don't want to do this."

Evgeni shuffled impossibly closer, "I love you too, I'm sorry, I'm coward."

"Stop," Jackson frowned. "You are not a coward. This could get you arrested back home. Killed even. You are allowed to be scared." He let out a frustrated sigh, not aimed at his boyfriend, but at the world around him. "Look, how about we just see how things go. I'll follow your lead and there is absolutely no pressure to say anything to them. As far as they know, I'm just your housemate."

"Very good housemate," Evgeni chuckled, although his laugh seemed strained. "Okay, we play by ear."

"Where'd you learn that one?" Jackson teased gently. Evgeni was always dropping new words and phrases he'd learned, his smile quietly proud, and Jackson loved it. 

"I learn from Finn. We both complain about silly boyfriends speaking French and he teach me English," Evgeni explained.

"Hmm, I'm not sure this is a friendship I should be encouraging," Jackson gave a mock glare. 

"Too late," Evgeni smiled. It was a real smile this time, and Jackson felt like his next breath came a little easier than the last. "We go shopping together next weekend. He give good advice unlike you."

"I changed my mind, this is an excellent friendship," Jackson grinned. Evgeni opened his mouth, likely a clever reply on his tongue, but anything he had to say was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. 

Jackson couldn't understand the string of Russian that Evgeni muttered, but he'd have wagered a large amount of money that it wasn't positive. "Hey, relax. It's just your parents. You love them, they love you," he reassured, despite the growing bubble of anxiety in his own stomach. He'd met his Evgeni's parents a few times before, but it felt different now, even though they weren't aware that anything about their son's relationship with his 'housemate' had changed.

"I go now," Evgeni said as he stood, but the words seemed to be aimed more at himself than Jackson. He left the room muttering to himself and running his hands nervously through his curls. 

A minute later, there was a burst of noise. Jackson smiled, letting his breath out with a sigh of relief. Some part of him had decided the world was going to implode the moment the front door opened, but all he heard was the happy sounds of a child and parents being reunited.

"Jackson," Evgeni pushed through the door a moment later. "You remember my Mother and Father?" he asked.

Smiling, Jackson stood. This part was easy. He could be polite. He was Canadian, polite was in his blood. "Of course," Jackson nodded. "It's lovely to see you again, Mr and Mrs Kuznetsov. Evgeni has been looking forward to your stay." He offered his hand out for his boyfriend's mother to shake. 

"I tell you to call me, Yelena," the tall woman said, batting away his hand softly and pulling Jackson into a hug. "Evgeni only wants to see me for Syrinki," she pretended to whisper. Jackson opened his mouth to mention that he had in fact been learning to make the Russian dish so that Evgeni would feel a little less homesick, but reconsidered. The idea felt too intimate, too suspicious. Looking up briefly, he met Evgeni’s eyes, finding a sadness in them. Maybe he had been thinking the same. 

“Nonsense, even big boys like us need a hug from our mom’s from time to time,” Jackson finally settled on a reply. 

Yelena gave him one last squeeze, patting his cheek. “You’re a good boy, Jackson.”

He wasn’t sure if he was making it up, but the moment seemed significant. He looked at Evgeni again, but just received a shrug, so Jackson turned his attention to Mr Kuznetsov. The man really did not speak much English, so Jackson just waved and said, “hello.” The smile he got in return was almost identical to Evgeni’s. 

                                                           ***

It was now day 3 of the Kuznetsov’s week long visit, and Jackson was really starting to think something was up, he just couldn’t quite place what. They sat on the sofa, looking at some photography Mr Kuznetsov had taken. Jackson had been told repeatedly to call him Lev, but he still couldn’t do it in his head. It seemed like a perfectly ordinary thing to do, Mr Kuznetsov was very passionate about his hobby, but Mrs Kuznetsov kept making little comments that Jackson found quite strange. 

“This is church we get married in,” Mrs Kuznetsov explained, pointing to an unassuming, old looking building nestled between some trees. “Would you like to get married, Jackson?”

The question didn’t even throw him this time, just another example of the odd little elements that kept cropping up. The reasonable part of him wanted to chalk it up to an over curiosity, however he was not entirely convinced. “Yeah, one day,” he nodded, training his eyes on the photo so they didn’t wander to look at his boyfriend. 

“No have to be in church though,” Mrs Kuznetsov patted his hand, “not these days.”

Jackson wasn’t sure how to respond to that and thankfully, Evgeni came to his rescue muttering to his mother in Russian. Her reply was terse, but she slid her finger over the tablet screen to reveal the next photo. 

Things moved on smoothly, and soon Jackson was leaving the three of them. As nice as it was to get to know the family, he realised it was a bit awkward for Mr. Kuznetsov and Jackson liked to allow them to spend time together without feeling guilty about leaving him out. He had almost forgotten about the incident, until lunch time the next day. 

Jackson and Mrs Kuznetsov had made lunch together, which had been strange and yet oddly comfortable. He had realised midway through slicing carrots for the soup that it felt as if they had done this many times before. 

“Oh! I forget,” Mrs Kuznetsov clapped her hands together excitably, getting up from the chair she had just sat on. “I see a photograph in the newspaper,” she said, rooting around in her purse, making a small triumphant noise when she found what she was looking for.  

She placed the clipping down on the table proudly. The photo was of Remus and Sirius. “I think it funny that it in news all the way in Russia,” Mrs Kuznetsov chuckled. “The article was not so nice, so I just cut out photo. Make me think of you. Such nice boys they are.”

Jackson didn’t know what to say, so he just looked at Evgeni. However, his boyfriend was not looking in his direction, staring at his mother instead. Mrs Kuznetsov went about ladling soup into the bowls, humming softly under her breath. 

                                                           ***

It was the final evening of Evgeni’s parent’s stay, and Jackson couldn’t wait to truly release the breath he had been holding. The two older Kuznetsov’s were wonderful, but Jackson wanted to be able to touch his boyfriend, to use the affectionate endearments they had given one another and quite frankly, he was horny. 

That thought was ripped from his mind, by the commotion of Mrs Kuznetsov tripping and throwing her glass of iced tea all over Evgeni. Jackson didn’t know much Russian, but he recognised the swear word that fell from his boyfriend’s lips and the scolding he received from his mother didn’t need translating. Then she began gesturing towards the wet clothing, saying something that made Evgeni’s eyes widen. Jackson would forever maintain that the sound that came out of Evgeni’s mouth was a squeak. 

“Off, off,” Mrs Kuznetsov ordered, her voice firm.

Jackson sympathised with Evgeni’s reaction now. He cleared his throat, mumbling a comment about getting a mop and hurried from the room. On his return, he realised he hadn’t been long enough, finding Evgeni standing in just his underwear. He swore softly to himself, going about mopping the floor, trying his level best to look anywhere but Evgeni. It felt like forever before his mother took his clothing, muttering something about the washing machine. 

“Mama,” Evgeni called, just as she was leaving the room. She looked back, smiling softly and Evgeni took a deep breath. “Jackson is my boyfriend.” He looked at his father and repeated the sentence in his native tongue. Jackson couldn’t recall loosening his grip on the wooden handle, but the sound of the mop clattering on the floor pulled him from his shocked pause. 

“Zhenya,” he breathed. And in that moment, the monumentality of his words seemed to hit Evgeni. Jackson saw the panic cross his boyfriend’s features, tensing his muscles to go and offer comfort, but somehow Mrs. Kuznetsov got there first. There were tears in her eyes, and a thousand thoughts ran through Jackson’s mind. He wanted to console Evgeni. He wanted to assure Mrs Kuznetsov they were good people, that Evgeni was the same son he had been thirty seconds ago. 

“I am so proud of you,” she reached out to grasp Evgeni’s hand. “I wait all week for you to tell me.” 

“What?” The word came from Evgeni and Jackson simultaneously. 

“Evgeni talk you, like I talk Alyonushka,” Mr Kuznetsov smiled. The words were stilted and the accent heavy, but Jackson understood well enough. Evgeni’s cheek took a pink tint to them. 

“I know love when I see,” Mrs Kuznetsov wagged her finger at Jackson as if he was a naughty child. She gave a small sigh, looking between the two of them, “Russia not so nice. But you safe here in USA, and Russia get better. One day, you hold hands there too.” 

Jackson felt tears in his own eyes now. Not even the fact Evgeni was standing in only his underwear could ruin this moment.

“Go put clothes on. I tell story to grandkids one day,” Mrs Kuznetsov smiled. 

“Mama!” Evgeni reprimanded. His next words were Russian, but the embarrassed exchange between mother and son was universal. Jackson suddenly realised he could tell his own parents now, and that seemed both terrifying and magnificent. He wasn't at all worried about their reaction, but it still seemed big. Deciding those emotions could be left for another day, he let himself enjoy this moment.

#jackson nadeau #evgeni kuznetsov #rating: t+ #cw:coming out #cw: homophobia #cw:food mentions #sweater weather #lumosinlove #request fill

[fandom-necromancer]

‘You come here often?’ ‘Well I work here.’ Part 4 

This was prompted by the lovely AO3 user LoafofCat! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 [Read complete on AO3]

‘You know, if you just wanted to see me, there would be easier ways.’ ‘Bold of you to assume I come here only to see you.’ Nines smiled looking up to Gavin, who was just untying his apron and sitting down in front of him with a coffee of his own. ‘Am I wrong then?’, the human asked and Nines huffed, letting his head fall. ‘No’, he admitted. ‘Okay, so let me get this right’, Gavin laughed. ‘I had to propose to my boss to get thirium drinks on the menu as a “costumer asked for it” and it might help us crank those numbers up, just so you could plant your ass here in your break?’ ‘It did get you more costumers though’, Nines shrugged pointing to the other tables. ‘That’s not- Nines, do you think I care about this shop? I just work here; I don’t care if… You know what? Screw it. Nice to see you, Nines.’ ‘Nice to see you too’, the android chuckled. ‘How are you?’ ‘Can’t complain. What do you have there?’

Nines looked down on the tablet in his hands. ‘Oh, just work. A case.’ ‘You are on your break and brought work?’, Gavin asked, looking at him sceptically. ‘Tina was right, you really are me just with a little less personality.’ ‘Being nice and polite doesn’t mean not having a personality. You were just an asshole.’ ‘What technically is a personality trait’, Gavin argued, taking a sip from his coffee. ‘Now come on, tell me about your case!’ Nines frowned. ‘I really can’t tell you, it’s-‘ ‘Confidential, I get it. But come on, I’m a former cop I can keep a secret. For old time’s sake.’ The android eyed Gavin and how he looked so eager to get information. It was cute in a way, how he looked in between his eyes and the tablet in his hands. Maybe that’s why Nines showed weakness and caved in.

‘Okay, but you really keep this to yourself. We are investigating a series of murders. They don’t have anything in common in regard to victims or how the deed was done or staged, but at every crime-scene we found the picture of this man.’ Nines flipped through the pictures of the different crime-scenes until he reached a few portraits. They weren’t really the kind of pictures you would expect of a cold-blooded serial-killer. Not after the few flashes of gruesome staging, Gavin caught a glimpse of as Nines had searched for these. They all portrayed a middle-aged man with a small belly you could easily get if you worked long hours in the office and were too exhausted afterwards to do sports. The pictures looked like they were ripped right out of a family photo-album. The guy was at the beach smiling at the camera with a cocktail in hand. The next one showed him in what Gavin supposed to be his home with a small dog on his lap. Then next to a ridiculously oversized barbeque grill all shiny chrome and reds.

Gavin lifted a brow at Nines. ‘Yeah, sorry Nines, but no way this is your killer.’ ‘I ruled it out as unlikely, too’, the android nodded. ‘Although you can never know with people. At the very least it’s a lead. Maybe the killer knows this man. As much as this is a lead, it is also our only link.’ Gavin shrugged, leaning back. ‘Well, why haven’t you solved it then? I mean, you can scan his face and get a name, age, address, likely even social media as creepy as they designed you and Connor. No offense there.’ Nines sighed. ‘As creepy as I might be designed, my scanner has its limits too. I can’t get a name to this man, not even an age. Scanning him just returns an error. Manual research in the police databanks also hasn’t brought up anything yet. We also can’t exactly go around asking for this man. If he is the serial killer, as unlikely as it might seem, we would only alert him.’ Gavin nodded absent-mindedly, staring at the photo, pulling the tablet closer to zoom in on some details. ‘Honestly?’, Nines said frustratedly. ‘We’re all currently waiting for the forensics to find more evidence on the bodies. It’s quite frustrating, but at the same time no one really minds if I spend a bit longer on my break with you.’

Gavin couldn’t help but let out an exaggerated ‘Awww’ at that, Nines reprimanded with an annoyed but amused look. ‘Nah, really thanks, looking at your tablet for what, ten minutes? This was already more exciting than the whole damn month. The most action I had was a drunk guy I had to escort out because everyone else was too chicken shit to risk getting vomited on.’ ‘Understandable.’ ‘Not the point. I mean, I’m happy here, I guess. It is decent money and I have more time for my cats at home. Also, maybe not being confronted with what humans are capable of is nice for a while. But I can basically feel my brain rot here.’ ‘That is also understandable’, Nines huffed. ‘Maybe search for some outside work activity? Something new to learn and keep you active mentally?’ ‘Like what? Knitting?’ ‘If you want that?’ ‘You know what? Maybe not the worst idea. I’ll see if I can find anything and when I have I will-‘

Nines never got to find out what Gavin would do afterwards, as his colleagues called him, pointing at the growing queue. The human sighed. ‘Well, my call to duty’, he announced and walked over to press a quick kiss to the android’s temple. ‘Was nice chatting with you, babe. Good luck with your case.’ ‘Yeah, you too.’

-

It was a slow Tuesday, without many costumers coming in. The rush of office workers in their break had already stormed the small shop and rushed back to their workplace and now it was mostly a few students and the regular old granny circle in the front judging people and eating cake. Living the life. Gavin had already washed the entire stack of mugs twice now and was out of work, except for manipulating the radio until his co-workers began to wonder why the last song had been so long and found him messing with the system. Then he walked around, collecting discarded newspapers and cleaning the tables while his co-worker told him she would be out for a cigarette. He nodded and continued working until a sole costumer entered. Gavin quickly rubbed the table dry and hurried over, throwing the man an extra smile just in case he wanted to complain about having to wait a few seconds. ‘What can I do for you?’ ‘I’d like a coffee, please. Medium, to go with cream but no sugar.’ ‘Coming right up.’ Gavin was already going through the motions of preparing the coffee and turned around to hand it over. ‘Anything else…’ He trailed off, as he saw the man’s face, but he seemingly hadn’t noticed his slip. ‘No, thank you, that would be all.’

Gavin watched him leave again and was trying to decide what to do next. He couldn’t just leave; he was at work after all. But he couldn’t do nothing either. Frantically he looked through the shop and, in the end, shook his head, rushing past the counter. Outside his co-worker stopped him. ‘Gavin? What are you doing?’ Gavin blinked, but came up with an excuse fast enough: ‘Dude forgot his wallet. Can you take over for a moment? Sorry!’ ‘Sure, no problem. Just hurry, he’s already behind the corner.’

Gavin did hurry. But not to run after the man, but to pull out his phone. ‘Nines? Yes, hi babe I know you are at work, shut up, this is work. Li-Listen, yes. Shut up for just a second! I’m pursuing your office killer. Ye-Yes, exactly, the beach holiday photo model with the ugliest dog I’ve seen in my life. Now will you phcking get your ass here? I will pursue him you can track my phone. Wh- come on, it can’t be that dangerous, I’m still well trained now stop worrying and move your ass!’

He had become louder than he wanted and had caused the man he wanted to follow inconspicuously to turn around. He wasn’t really unsuspicious though, dressed in the silly coffee-shop apron and shouting at someone on the phone. Trying to play it down, Gavin instead tried the open approach: ‘Hey, you forgot your wallet!’ It only caused the man to bolt. So much for being a friendly, costumer-orientated employee. Gavin pushed it all to hell, lifting up his apron and running after the man. So, he did had dirt on him. Gavin followed him down the street and used a streetlight to take the corner with more speed. A mistake he later would regret as he ran face first into a fist that definitely wasn’t human. Seeing stars, he looked up from where he had fallen against the building. The chubby man was surprisingly agile and fast, unfitting to his overall completely average looks. And Gavin saw why: The skin where the man had punched him had retracted to show stern white underneath. The man was an android? Where the hell did he get all these modifications from? Cyberlife had designed all androids to be phcking inhuman models. But maybe that had been the plan. Being as inconspicuous as possible. Remembering the brief flashes of crime-scenes that made him pale. Oh no.

‘How the hell did some barista recognise me, huh?’, the android asked, holding Gavin by the throat, his toes barely touching the ground. ‘You are all over the news!’, Gavin tried. ‘I’m not. None of my doings have even been published yet.’ ‘Well, I was a cop once.’ ‘Were you? Well, who is your contact then? If you were a cop once.’ Gavin really hoped someone would turn the corner and see this to help him. Because the way the android’s hand clenched around his throat, lack of oxygen could soon be his least concern. ‘My boyfriend, okay? But I will never tell you his name!’ ‘Your boyfriend? Alright, thank you. After I killed you, I will go to him next. See if I can’t keep this information from spreading.

The pressure on his throat became almost unbearable, as Gavin saw a flash of white behind the man. ‘I highly doubt that’, Nines voice sounded through the alley and Gavin could see the gun aimed at his head. ‘Now let him down and go.’ The android in front of Gavin cursed, but complied. ‘You are arrested for the suspected murder of three people, as well as the attempted murder of this man. Turn around, hands behind your back.’ Nines handcuffed him, reading him his rights before making the call to the station to send a car.

‘Gavin, that was extremely reckless of you.’ ‘Hey, I got your killer, right?’, Gavin croaked with a cocky grin while rubbing his throat. ‘I solved a case you would have waited weeks on before even getting close to the guy.’ ‘Oh, please, I’m the most advanced android there is. I would have gotten him.’ ‘Yeah, but it was the ex-detective they threw out to replace with you that caught him in the end.  Please, rub that into Fowler’s face for me, would you?’ ‘I most certainly won’t’, Nines stated. ‘I will emphasize your involvement in this case though, what at least should keep your employer off your ass.’ ‘Oh, what would I do without you?’ The android in Nines grip struggled against him, causing Nines to return his attention to him. ‘Urgh, get a room, you two!’ ‘Excellent idea actually. Gavin, how about after our shifts ended, we meet at my place? You know? To celebrate.’ ‘Oh, I’d love to’, Gavin grinned and winked the RK900.

The captive criminal got a glimpse of the gesture and regretted it deeply. ‘Oh, please, just kill me, would you?’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed

[grootiez]

Rocket’s Special Space Ramen!

“Shut up, Quill! I DO NOT CARE what you have to say!” Rocket yells as he slams the front door in Peter’s face as the Guardians, except for Kraglin, who stayed back to babysit Groot, came home from shopping at the local grocery store.

Rocket stormed off towards his and Groot’s room, which was more of a nursery right now to cater towards the sapling’s needs, but Rocket still had a corner that had a small cramped workbench that was stuffed with parts for different weapons that the pyromaniac raccoon was building.

As Rocket walked by, Groot stirred in his crib and cooed, peaking out and smiling from beneath his blanket.

Rocket stopped in his tracks so that he could unhinge the pair of swinging doors on the side of the crib that made it easier for him to tuck Groot in at night and get him up in the morning or after a nap. Groot smiles and coos at his father.

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Rocket couldn’t help but return the smile his son gave him as he took the blanket off of the tiny tree who was wearing an adorable blue onesie that Mantis had sewn for him that had his idol, Bob Ross, on the front.

Rocket’s nose then smells something foul as he picked Groot up. “Did Kraglin change your diaper before your nap?”

“Ugh! Gross!” The raccoon immediately answered his own question as he repositioned Groot in his arms and placed one of his paws underneath him.

Rocket takes Groot over to the changing table and lays him down before grabbing a baby wipe and cleaning his hands. He then reaches for a rattle and gives it to Groot to distract him as Rocket changed him. Upon further inspection, Rocket discovers that the diaper Groot was wearing leaked through to his onesie and he needed to get a new one on. In the middle of all of this, there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“Hey, uh, Rat?” Kraglin cautiously opens it, having heard the raccoon struggle with changing Groot and remembering that Groot always has a fresh diaper on him before he takes his afternoon nap everyday, which he forgot to do. “Are ya busy?”

“No, Kraglin.” Rocket replies sarcastically as he finished up and getting Groot dressed in a new yellow onesie that had rockets all over it. Rocket then picks up Groot and cradles him in his arms.

“I! am! Groooot!” The seedling shouts as he squirms in Rocket’s arms, wanting to be put down. “Alright, Groot. I forgot that Bob Ross is starting soon.” Rocket concedes as he placed the tree on the ground. Groot crawls towards the staircase before climbing on top of the banister and using it as a slide to get downstairs faster. “Hehe, resourceful, ain’t he?”

“Yup.” Kraglin agrees as he scratches his head. “Whatever you say.”                                              ————————— An hour passes, and Rocket was still angry with Peter. Whenever he tried to reconcile, Rocket just gave off a warning snarl and Peter just backed off, not wanting to get bit, but the desire to apologize was not worth the risk.

Rocket continues his way down the hallway until he sees Kraglin in the kitchen. The angry Procyon didn’t acknowledge the Xandarian, just huffing as he walked by and took a seat on the counter.

“Hey Rat.” Kraglin greeted, trying to change Rocket’s mood. “How is everything?”

Rocket didn’t respond.                                           ———————— A short while later, the door swung open again and a very angry, (but still adorable) Groot came storming into the kitchen and using his arms, outstretches them so he could climb up next to Rocket before dramatically sitting down on his father’s lap.

“Hey Twig.” Kraglin waves to Groot, who ignores him. “Oh, sorry...”

Rocket knows that when the tree refuses to say hello to someone that he’s extremely angry at something. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“I am Groot!” The child pouts.

“Whoa, language!” Rocket scolds his son. “But since it’s Star-Dump, I’ll let it slide. What’d he do now?”

Groot looks at Rocket and in all seriousness says, “I am Groot.” He explains while punching an imaginary figure that was Peter.

“He turned off Bob Ross to watch some stupid FOOTBALL GAME?!?!” Rocket couldn’t believe that Peter would snatch the remote and change the channel on the Bob Ross-obsessed toddler. “Just out of curiosity, who was playing?”

“I am Groot.” The tiny tree replied.

Rocket facepalms. “The Miami Dolphins and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers? Ugh, those teams SUCK! And then he turned the station to watch the Dallas Cowgirls and the New England Cheatriots?!”

“I am Groot.” Groot corrected his father.

“I don’t care what the NFL calls them!” Rocket stated. “I call them by what the fanbase calls them and that’s Cowgirls and Cheatriots. NOT ‘Cowboys’ and ‘Patriots.’ Plus, Bill BeliCHEAT and Tom Brady should be banned from football! Especially after SpyGate and DeflateGate!”

Groot was upset at having his TV time cut short. “I am Groot.”

“Hey, we will make him pay.” Rocket vows to Groot.

“I am Groot?”

Rocket shook his head. “Nah. You gotta think bigger than just switching his coffee to decaf.” The raccoon then chuckled. “Although that would be hilarious...”

Kraglin was rifling through the cupboards. “Noooo! We have no soup!” He then turns back to face Rocket and Groot. “Hey, guys, I’ll be back in an hour and then we’ll continue thinking of ways to prank Cap’n.”

Groot then tugs at Rocket’s jumpsuit. “I am Groot?”

Rocket then knelt down. “I like the way you think! Of course pranking Quill with food would be hysterical! But what food would be perfect to do so?” He strokes his whiskers deep in thought.

“Well, there’s a dish on Terra that would be perfect.” Kraglin suggests. “It’s called Ramen and according to the internet you can put anything and everything in it.” Kraglin then hands over his tablet to Rocket, who looks at it and cackles. “I think this recipe would be perfect!”

Rocket smiles as he shows Groot the recipe, who joins in on the laughter. “Alright, Kraglin, you convinced us. Let’s go!”

“Wait, Rat, we have to go to Terra.” Kraglin states.

“I know.” Rocket acknowledges as he helps Groot put his coat on. He then turns back to Kraglin. “What’re we waiting for?”

“Um, Rat, we have to go to Walmart.” Kraglin began, but Rocket didn’t pay attention as he grabbed Groot’s diaper bag and threw it over his shoulder as he carried Groot. “Aren’t you and Twig banned from there after the time you guys went to get Thanksgiving dinner?” Rocket suddenly remembers himself and Groot getting arrested on Earth and brought back home. He then puts down Groot and all of his stuff. “Don’t worry, I know what to get and I’ll be back in a few hours.” He assured them as he grabbed the keys to the Milano and headed out.                                                  ——————— Two hours later, Kraglin returned from Walmart without getting arrested. He entered the kitchen where Rocket and Groot were waiting.

“I was able to get almost everything.” Kraglin announces as he placed the bags down.

Rocket searches all the bags. “Where’s the chicken?”

“Uh, about that.” Kraglin wasn’t sure how to describe his trip to Walmart. He looked like he was in a war zone with his clothes torn up and hair all raggedy. “It would turn out that the Terrans are freaking out about something that they can’t see and they went crazy in Walmart and by the time I fought my way back to where they keep the chicken, they were all out.” He then gets out a 50 pack of 2-ply toilet paper and a gallon jug of Purell. “But hey, I got the last of the toilet paper and this stuff called Purell. The checkout lady says that stuff is going for a lot of money on the internet. I figure that I can make even more money if I put the hand sanitizer into tiny little bottles and sell the toilet paper by the square.” “I like that plan!” Rocket was proud that his ways of conning people out of their hard-earned money was finally rubbing off on Kraglin. His attention then turned back to the task at hand. “But the ramen won’t look as weird without the chicken feet. You got any other ideas for what we could use?”

“Actually, I got the perfect thing!” Kraglin exclaims as he placed a rotting animal carcass on the counter. “A fresh, dead Orloni! Courtesy of me running over it five minutes ago.”

Rocket rubs his paws in excitement. “Perfect!”

As Kraglin and Rocket worked on the ramen, Groot was given the very important task of keeping everyone else, especially Peter, away from the kitchen. The toddler found that the easiest way was to brandish two steak knives that were as long as he was tall and swinging them haphazardly as the tiny tree ran after them while screaming at the top of his lungs.

Meanwhile, Rocket cut, sliced, and gutted the Orloni just like he did with the turkeys that he and Groot got from Walmart not too long ago. The raccoon cut off the legs, tail, and head as he expertly placed the meat in with the rest of the ingredients that Kraglin was preparing. (He was the Guardians’ resident expert in all things soup and soup-related.)

After the ramen was ready and poured into Peter’s favorite bowl, Groot came back after chasing Drax away.

“I am Groot?” The toddler asks as he pointed to something green that was on the counter.

“This stuff is called wasabi, Twig, and it’s very spicy.” Kraglin divulges as he opened up the pack. “I went into this specialty store after I left Walmart and the lady said that this is the authentic wasabi, as the stuff sold in the regular stores is just imitation.”

“Really?” Rocket demands as he grabbed the mysterious green paste and took a pea-sized piece and ate it. “It ain’t all that bad-. HOLY CRAP!” He screams as he spit it out and ran straight for the fridge as he got out a water bottle. He then saw Groot break off an even larger marble-sized piece and place it inside his mouth. “GROOT, NO!” But it was too late, Groot already swallowed the wasabi and instantly regretted it, screaming bloody murder. Rocket made Groot drink from his water bottle to ease the taste in his mouth.

“I was gonna warn you-.” Kraglin apologizes as Rocket put Groot down and began to rub the inside and outside of the Orloni’s carcass and legs with the wasabi. “What’re you doing?”

“Giving Star-Munch an unexpected surprise...” Rocket divulges as he finished up. “Hm... it’s still missing something...”

Groot pointed at the orloni’s head. “I am Groot!”

“Great idea, Groot!” Rocket commends the child as he opened the orloni’s mouth and placed a tiny ball bearing inside before placing it inside the bowl. The head sinks to the bottom, another surprise in store for their Fearless Leader.

“You two are weird...” Kraglin states before he left.                                                  ———————— It was dinner time, the Guardians were all gathered around the table. Rocket was able to get Groot into his high chair for the first time on his own. Kraglin went back into the kitchen to get everyone’s food, as each person wanted something different to eat tonight.

“Hey, Quill, me and Groot want to let ya know that we’re not mad at you for being an even bigger idiot than usual.” Rocket implies as Kraglin set the bowl in front of Peter. “So we made you something special. Hope you enjoy it.”

“Does the sarcasm come with the meal?” Peter asked.

“No, that’s complimentary.” Rocket answers as Peter ate the ramen.

“This is good, Rocket. A little spicy but-.” Peter then discovers the floating Orloni head in the ramen. “What the-?!”

Peter ran to the bathroom to throw up. He, Rocket and Groot were even now.

@trashpandaorigins @madness-on-the-milano @butterflyinthewell @blaketoziers @canuckscot @i-sudoku @janetgenea @lothirielswanmarvel @madcatz6277 @netbug009 @pineapple-crow @rocket-roquill-raccoon @rocket-ringtail-raccoon @rr4901 @skarabrae-stone @sesshouki @thatcrappypuppy @vic394 @woozletania @whoop-whoop-grocket

Read on Ao3.

#groot #baby groot #tree #twig #rocket #rocket raccoon #trash panda #rabbit #sweet rabbit #papa rocket #peter quill #starlord #star munch #drax #drax the destroyer #gamora #mantis #nebula #kraglin #kraglin obfonteri #marvel #guardians of the galaxy #bob ross #the joy of painting #the giving tree #ao3 #archive of our own #ao3 fanfic #ao3 fanfiction #fanfic

[margoshansons]

Wait for Me: b. blake

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Summary: Y/N finds out about Raven and Abby’s plan to head to the ground. She decides to tag along.

Warnings: Swearing

Notes: set during 1x02 “Earth Skills” and 1x04 “Murphy’s Law”

She had been tracking Raven’s recent schedule since the mechanic had called out Abby Griffin for lying to them about the lock-up quarantine. Y/N already knew that the 100 had been sent to Earth, Octavia had been one of them. 

So when Raven disappeared into a long-forgotten wing of Mecha, naturally she followed, listening on the conversation that ensued.

“I believe you,” Abby’s voice rang through the abandoned section, calming whatever fears Raven had voiced. “And you’re not in trouble.”

Y/N creased her eyebrows at the sound of that. What would she be in trouble for? Had they found out about her illegal spacewalk? Finn’s sacrifice? She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she missed the next few lines of conversation until Abby’s voice turned grim.

“The Ark is dying Raven, life support is on its last legs.”

Y/N swallowed her nerves, breathing growing shallow. She thought she could feel the oxygen deprivation working its way through her body. 

“I have ten days to prove Earth is survivable or else they’ll start reducing the population. Three-hundred-and-twenty people will be killed.”

Silence coated the room as she crept forward, not believing what she was hearing. Three hundred people killed. Innocents. Her people. Raven’s people. His people. 

She had to do something. She had to warn him somehow. 

“I don’t get it” She heard Raven protest. “Why are you telling me this?”

There was a pause as the swirling sound of cloth falling to the ground echoed through the sector hallways. Y/N forced herself to creep around the corner, her gaze falling on a hunk of junk in the corner, the escape pod barely functional and falling apart at the seams. 

Abby faced the mechanic, “You have nine days to get this ready so I can survive a drop.”

Raven scanned the pod, fully aware of the insanity unraveling before her. 

“You want me to get a one hundred and thirty-year-old escape pod ready to survive a drop in nine days?” The mechanic asked drawing an eyebrow upward in skepticism as she truly began to comprehend the desperation of the situation.

“Can you do it?” Abby asked.

Raven nodded, “But I’m coming with you.”

“So am I” Y/N piped up from behind her corner, catching both women by surprise. “I know about Earth Dr. Griffin.” She announced, trying to defend her logic. She sent a hopeful look toward the pod, her last hope to see the man she loved on the ground.

“No” Abby protested, “Absolutely not.”

Y/N scoffed. “How do you expect to get parts? Trading with Nygel?” She knew her answer was right when she saw the Doctor’s face fall. “I’m the only engineer with access to the machine shop after hours, which means I can get all the parts you need, free of deals with the devil.”

Abby shook her head, “Why do you even want to do this?”

She straightened her back, crossing her arms as a familiar head of curls and freckles popped into her head. “You’re not the only ones with people you love on the ground.”

“She’s right Abby” Raven defended, “Without her, we have no safe way to trade parts.”

She shot a grateful look at the mechanic before turning back to Abby, who reluctantly agreed to let her join the mission. 

She smiled at the thought of seeing him again.

Finally, Bellamy Blake would hold her in his arms again.

***

Three more days, she counted. That’s how long she had to wait to see Bellamy again. Three more days and she would be free of this hunk of metal and hurtling back toward the ground, ready to jump into his embrace once again. She could almost taste his lips on hers.

The door slid open, and Abby had presented them with a death sentence. 

“How soon can you two get this thing ready to launch?”

Raven wrenched another bolt back into place, “Still scraping up parts for a pressure regulator.” The mechanic threw a pointed look Y/N’s way, who drew herself out of the inside of the pod to defend herself. 

“I’m on it.” She assured the doctor, “Wick’s just being an ass.”

“Yeah well, when isn’t he?” Raven retorted before turning back to Abby, “Why? What’s changed?”

“Clarke’s wristband went out,” Abby told them, the sound of metal against metal ceasing at the news, Y/N poking her head out to catch the dire expression on her face. If Clarke took hers off... “Doesn’t matter,” Abby told them, “I can get that part, today.”

“Abby wait--”

The woman disregarded Y/N’s protests as she stormed out of the station, leaving the two mechanics alone to stare at each other.

The next few minutes passed by agonizingly slowly and Y/N found herself trying to recall the last time she had seen Bellamy. It had been right before the dropship launched, the conversation playing over in her head.

Bellamy stormed into her apartment, wrapping himself in her arms as he dug his head into the crook of her shoulder. “I have to do something awful, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“So don’t”

“But if I don’t, I won’t be able to protect Octavia.” He squeezed her tighter, and Y/N ran the choices in her head. She hadn’t been able to save her mother, and she hadn’t been able to stop the guard from taking Octavia. But maybe she could help Bellamy save his sister. 

“Do it.” She urged him, pulling back, unaware of how badly things would turn out, “If it can save Octavia, then do it.”

He nodded, bringing her closer to his body as he pressed a kiss into her hair. “I love you.” He had whispered, and she had been so blissfully unaware of how much that meant at the time.

“I love you too.” She snuggled closer to him, the two standing there for several minutes, neither one of them wanting to let go.

When Abby came back, the magical part was there in her hands. 

“How did you--”

“Doesn’t matter” Abby cut of Y/N as she turned to Raven, “How fast can you install this?”

Raven shrugged, “A few hours maybe.”

Abby grit her teeth, a fearful expression crossing her face. “We may not have that kind of time.”

Y/N stepped forward, more determined than ever to launch. “We’ll get it installed Abby, I promise.”

The doctor nodded and the two women got to work, time passing by quicker than they expected. The ping of her tablet pulled the two women out of their work, Jackson’s frantic voice informing them of their circumstances. 

“Abby, did you take morphine from the clinic?”

Dr. Griffin’s eyes widened in confusion, “They inventoried already?”

Jackson shook his head, “No, Kane was just here,” The three women stared at each other, apprehensive looks built into their faces at the news, “He’s on his way to arrest all three of you right now.”

Raven and Abby couldn’t stop staring at the air, and realization finally passed over Y/N’s face. 

How Abby had gotten the pressure regulator so quickly.

“You gave Nygel morphine.” She announced, an angry look crawling across Abby’s face.

“She turned me in,” Abby shut off the tablet, her knuckles growing white as she gripped the broken dashboard before turning to Raven, “How much longer?”

“Twenty minutes.”

Abby slammed her hand against the metal, pushing away to go meet Kane, “They’re gonna be here in five.” She turned toward the both of them, “No matter what happens you launch that pod you hear me? You get the ground, find Clarke and radio back. Three hundred innocent people will die if you don’t.”

Y/N nodded, finally understanding the brevity of the situation. This wasn’t just about Clarke anymore. This wasn't about Finn or Bellamy anymore. This was about saving three hundred innocent people. 

“Abby, they’ll float you,” Raven spoke softly, head shaking in fear.

The doctor stared off into space, resigning herself to her fate, “Then they float me, tell Clarke I love her.”

The two women nodded and went back to work, cutting their time in half as Ravne barked orders while she worked on the pressure regulator, ready to launch at any moment. The part squealed and steamed and Raven muttered a desperate plea, “Come on, Come on,” The part only quieted when she turned the dial backward, hitting her hand against the leather seats, “Dammit!”

Y/N stared hopelessly at the broken pressure regulator, gritting her teeth, “She gave us a bad part.” She spoke as anger laced her voice, meeting Raven’s gaze, searching for another solution. 

They latched their eyes onto the two spacesuits Abby had procured for them. Before either of them knew what was happening, they settled into the worn seats, pressing several buttons as the two overlapped hands to push the ignition forward, sending the pod hurtling toward Earth.

I’ve had this plot bunny running around in my head for a while now, so maybe there will be a part two. Who knows?

Please like, reblog, and comment!

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake imagines #reader x bellamy blake #bellamy blake #bellamy x reader #reader x bellamy #the 100 imagine #the 100 imagines #the 100 fic #bellamy blake fic

[bananaairplane]

Land and Sea

I ran away to sea. We sailed into the Bahamas early yesterday morning, after leaving West Palm Beach at sunset. Leaving the inlet that protects the harbor where we had been anchored from the ocean, the boat began to roll on ocean swells. The Gulf Stream runs northwards about five miles off the coast. The lights of Florida fell behind us and the sky opened up overhead, bigger and more studded with stars than I’ve ever seen it. As we sailed, Orion rose and climbed overhead, wheeling off to the south as dawn approached. After barfing up two dramamine tablets, I was ready to take my first watch.

I felt the pull of the sea as soon as I hit the Oregon coast this fall, and also for a good while before that. It’s a constant theme, the sea. A wide open space of freedom, and another kind of wilderness. I drove back and forth past a cargo dock in the days before departure, on provisioning runs and to get a tooth looked at for a possible emergency root canal— no, I just haven’t had a teeth cleaning in rather a long time thanks to the pandemic. Big orange containers marked “Tropical” were stacked around the cranes and one or two big ships. I thought of my great uncle the sea captain, who sailed ships like these to East Asia in the 1930s. This pull I felt toward the water, is it something like what he felt, running away to sea as a teenager? Who can know, I immediately thought, and why does it matter? Why do we look for explanations of our behavior— good or bad— in the past? Heritage holds the promise of connection— that we are not alone in how we feel. It offers reassurance that we’re not alone and justifies our choices by offering an explanation for them. In doing so, though, it gives the lie to the fantasy of breaking free. If the longing for freedom is an inherited trait, like my narrow eyes or my freckles, then it isn’t really freedom so much as a fulfillment. I don’t think this is the right way of looking at it. We all have the same destination in life, but we choose the lodestars that will guide our passage there. They are not infinite, and the choice not entirely free— freedom is an odd imperative because, like nature, it is so poorly defined. But we do have a range of action within which to shape what we do. Do it consciously.

Every trip has two parts: departure and arrival. The switch happens somewhere along the way— possibly the halfway point, but not necessarily. The valence of departure is broken, and your focus swings around toward where you’re going. I took off from San Diego two weeks ago, aiming to catch this sailboat in Florida. I did not know very much about the boat, or the people on it. I didn’t know how long I’d be on it, even— just that we were headed to the Bahamas. I could not answer even the most superficial of the follow-up questions people asked when I announced my plan. All the way through the desert I was leaving California. I felt the places I’d been pulling back, and saw before me everything I was leaving. The beginnings of a life in Oregon, the friends and family scattered down the coast all threw a strong valence out over the highway as it stretched before me.

I blew across the white gravely desert of Arizona, listening to an audiobook of D.H. Lawrence’s The Rainbow, banned for indecency when it came out in Britain in 1915. Alternating descriptions of quivering flesh and pointed arches boomed at maximum volume over the whoosh of the road. The sky felt like a glass dome placed over the earth, and in places where the road began to rise gently it felt like my car might take flight. Then the highway thickened into Phoenix and I stopped at the first of a string of worn out roadside motels.

Roadside motels, offer a smooth, hard surface to the consciousness, unable to become particular and therefore familiar. Well, not smooth— more like lumpy in the way a wall is that has been badly painted. And not so hard, either: Why are all the lampshades in cheap motels dented? How many ways are there to dent a lampshade? Or is it the same way, over and over? One clumsy salesman is roaming around, all elbows, putting the same dent in squared-off Days In lampshades.

In New Mexico, a man sat in front of the souvenir shop/ gas station with his dog, looking for a ride to Las Cruces. The exits feel perfunctory— the land around them is as vacant as anywhere else along the highway. Buildings are placed far apart and gratuitously set back from the road, like they didn’t have enough of them so they wanted to really space them out for maximum effect. In New Mexico the land turns orange and the mountains are red instead of the inky blue of California. As you begin to hit Texas, the grass picks up, thickening into shrubs and then live oaks as you get out of the hill country. It is deeply dark on I-10 at night west of about San Antonio. The only lights are white and red columns on the road and the glow of the yellow lines. After El Paso, the lights of Juarez shine off to the left, like distant land when you are at sea.

I stopped in San Antonio for a day off the road with my aunt and uncle and a masked, impromptu Thanksgiving. Every place you stop is sticky: it’s hard to push back out into the the empty current of the road— even more so when you drop into a warm cocoon of kin. We stood around in the kitchen catching up, a dog shuttling around at our feet; the next day was filled with the project of preparing and eating food. In the evening, my aunt and I popped open tubes of dough and rolled up Thanksgiving leftovers into little pastry pockets. When I got back on the road, the arrival of the East Coast announced itself with the thick roadside vegetation of the Bayou and torrential rains. After the austerity of the desert, the excess of vegetation and water felt messy, crowded. It also marked the shift into the next chapter. I had definitively left the West behind and now, instead of the backwards pull of the beginning of the trip, I felt the tug of arrival pick up. In Mobile I parked and went for a walk with a friend through neighborhoods of deep porches and old plaster. I wound up in St Augustine for several days at the house of old family friends, to await the results of a Covid test before joining the boat.

The periodic connections with people and places along the way felt incongruous— so much for wilderness, or the idea of the long drive as some kind of mystical journey of self-discovery. Thanksgiving leftovers and cozy afternoons on back porches felt like cheating. But that’s the lie of departure again. There is no radical break, only a series of arrivals that, like the other half of a parenthesis, reshape the meaning of the departure.

#adventure #road trip #road #journey #my writing #writing #travel #blog

[ansgar-martinsson]

The Best Intentions - Part 3

The Best Intentions

Part 3

“It is no imposition, believe me,” Ansgar replied. “As much as I despise the fact that your building is suffering problems, I do enjoy solving them now and again.” He surreptitiously allowed his gaze to follow the path of her hands as they straightened out the denim of her skirt. He saw a strength in her movements, a power in the way her muscles shaped beneath the fabric - a power matched by her forthrightness. Not overwhelming, mind you… not false… not pretentious… just… present. This one - she knew what she wanted and how to get it, that much was obvious.

And admirable.

“Perhaps,” he continued, “you would like to change into something more suitable for structural investigations before we begin.” With his eyes, he indicated the Louboutin pumps, still lying discarded on the stage floor. “Why don’t I go take a look at the sprinkler heads installed backstage, and you tell me where to meet you when you’re done.”

Jo’s comfort came in the form of a pair of old broken in trainers (stained with paint from the tech shop), faded, ripped jeans (exposed knees from load-in from her last theatre job in Paris) and a ratty, old, black short-sleeved t-shirt (sprinkled with holes). She kept a wardrobe on hand in her office for days like this. Box office days, she dressed smartly, prim, proper for all the old biddies spending their pension on Puccini. Tech days, she wore black from head to toe. On opening and gala nights, she felt at home in a little black dress or a gown. Dressing for an office meeting felt like work.

The computer and its dancing screensaver called to her in the corner to research the lighting issue. The ramifications meant long hours of interviewing new candidates for her design or technical team. But that would have to wait… the rest of the repairs needed another pair of eyes, the haunted blue of the engineer. Something weighed on him, a brooding quiet, a dark hurt, a something that she couldn’t quite read yet.

She breathed a sigh of relief as the oh-so-soft denim whispered against her skin. She blew a kiss at her borrowed Louboutins, promising another night in them… soon-ish. She returned to find Ansgar wandering around backstage, making notes on a clipboard, knocking on walls with his fist, shining his torch this way and that, and testing the pulley system for the flies.

“Thank you,” Jo said announcing her presence, “I… this works.” She threw her arms out beside her palms out, displaying a tattoo on her left forearm. “Much more me for days like this.”

“Where do you need me?” he tucked his notes under his arm. His gaze followed her arm and the flash of color he saw.

“Ah, under the stage.” She pointed below her feet. “The sprinklers may have caused water damage? The hydraulics for the turn table works only when it wants.”

“Temperamental,” he commented with a chuckled grunt. He took control, leading them off stage right to the staircase for the other area. “Have you used the pyrotechnics down there?”

Jo followed closely at his elbow, anticipating questions about the integrity of the areas she showed him. “Not since… not last season.”

“Any of the directors turn in specs for it for the upcoming?”

She shook her head though he didn’t look at her. “Not yet. The designers haven’t either. We still need to find a team for The Flying Dutchman.”

Jo asked Ansgar to look over the box seats and the arrangement of it. The dip of the seats had started scaring some of the older audience members, fearing they’d fall into the orchestra below. The wall between dressing rooms seven and eight had begun to warp. The floor in the rehearsals spaces needed patching and sanding. She toured through with a careful ear listening to his tips and concerns, and possible hidden agendas amongst her crew.

When they were through the laundry list of items, Jo found some relief. She stood at the top of the orchestra, hands gripping the back of a red velvet seat. “I love my work, Herr Martinsson. I haven’t an ounce of talent of my own, but I love this place. I’d love to see it sparkle again. And so would Harold.”

Ansgar stared, his focus narrowing on her. “I’m sorry. Harold?”

“The opera ghost,” she teased. “He’s been with us the entire time.”

He humored her and offered her a good natured laugh, stepping in to stand beside her, looking over the sea of red. He placed his hands on the seat beside her. “Well, Joline… and Harold… I think I can help.”

She looked down and quieted the tiniest of swells of disappointment in her belly when she saw a wedding ring on Ansgar’s left hand. Attractive men were always married; she should know, she’d married one. “We both appreciate it. Harold and me.” She pushed a smile to her lips and brushed his shoulder with hers.

“Well,” he said, “we’ve a duty to our ghosts; to make sure they’re happy with the things they’ve left behind, don’t we?” Ansgar’s speech slowed as he spoke, the impact of his own statement not lost upon him.

His thumb, in an autonomic motion, tucked into his palm, the tip of it rubbing against the underside of the golden band that remained around his finger.

“I’m sure Harold will be supremely happy,” the woman by his side quipped. Ansgar’s lips quirked into a small smile, partly at her praise, partly at the fact that she had missed his passing discomfiture altogether. Or so he’d hoped.

In further hope of distraction, he raised his clipboard, running his finger down the list he’d made. “Well, Froken Lindberg,” he said, “if that is all of the issues, then, I think I ought to get back to the office and get this to my project manager. Get her on contacting the subs and suppliers immediately, get warranty claims made and bond claims if need be.”

“You mean Froken Wiessing?”

“No,” Ansgar shook his head. “But I think… well, Julia and I will have some other things to discuss.”

“Anything I need to worry about?”

Ansgar looked down at her and smiled. “Not anymore. Listen,” he said, “I apologise for all of this happening, I apologise for my company being so unresponsive, it’s… it’s not like us… not like me at all. Quite the opposite.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s all being sorted now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” he affirmed. “Are you sure?”

“Well,” she grinned up at him. “There is one more thing you can do.”

“Name it,” he challenged.

“Take me to lunch. I’m starving.”

Ansgar laughed. It felt good to laugh again… very good. Truly, honestly good. “Of course,” he bowed his head, smiling. “You name the place. It’s the least I can do.”

Jo discovered Carousel her first week as House Manager. The Mediterranean outdoor café suited her low-key wardrobe and Ansgar’s higher end threads. The grilled rib-eye tasted of heaven on a plate but Jo loved making a meal of the appetizers instead of gorging herself on mains. As she angled into the wooden bench, she wiggled-slid behind the oblong table, “The gazpacho and watermelon should be a sin.”

Ansgar folded himself into the chair at the head of the table, to her left. Grinning at her, he took in the colorful and lively atmosphere. It all seemed so… normal. So ordinary. Comforting normality of his home.

Her voice dropped to a sensual moan. “The sweet and the savory…” She rolled her eyes skyward. The grumble in her stomach wasn’t just hunger but curiosity about her lunch companion and this need to prove herself worthy as House Manager. After months of chasing attention at Martinsson Construction, she now felt consumed by this mad drive to show him that the house and how it ran remained safe in her hands.

“I brought the mockup of our final mailing and advert campaign… the last push to get asses in the seats for the new season.” Ticket sales and revenue secured her position. As it was her first full season as manager, it was final examinations on her worth. “We open in September with The Marriage of Figaro.”

His finger traced along the glossy production photographs of women in wide elaborate frocks and taller wigs. The text read clean and concise, listing titles of the upcoming operas, dates, the box office website, and other means to purchase tickets or sponsor levels. “Impressive,” he nodded.

“Did you get your invitation to the opening night gala? My staff sent them round to all the executives at your company.”

“Uh… no… no. I’ve been away,” he repeated his mantra from earlier. “I’ve not caught up on correspondences. I assume that Britta has added it to my calendar.”

Jo wrinkled her nose, “This is boring to you.”

“Not at all. Your… passion is admirable actually.”

Her wide blue eyes met his and kicked herself for flirting with him. She shouldn’t encourage this. She couldn’t.

But it was one lunch. One lunch couldn’t hurt.

It’s only lunch, Ansgar thought.

But it was true what he’d said, he admired her passion. it seemed to permate every inch of her, seep from her pores. Passion - well, it was extremely attractive. Her passion for her job, her passion for her art - for it was her art, he knew. Even if she wasn’t the Prima Donna, or a visual artist or a composer or even if she wasn’t a musician or a set designer or a lighting designer, it was still her art.

Like his work with steel and glass in structural engineering, he knew her expression of her self came with the craft of engineering logistics.

“Tell me,” he said, stabbing up a forkful of spinach salad, “what’s your talent utilisation style?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him over the rim of her water glass. “My what?”

Ansgar swallowed and nodded. “I mean… your management style. How do you… how do you manage to keep all those….”

“Artistic types in line?” She chuckled. “Sometimes it’s like herding cats… cats who have been rolling in catnip and have eaten an entire bag of Smarties. You just have to know how to use the right toys to fiddle them out and get them to pay nicely together.”

“Oh.” Ansgar laughed. “Sounds a bit like my situation, except sometimes my cats have been chewing on the Valium tablets or tippling at the brandy. Most sluggish, and they simply do not want to come out of their hidey holes.”

She inhaled through her nose. “So I’ve noticed.” She flashed him a closed-mouthed grin followed by a slight cringe at the brazenness of her words.

Which again made Ansgar laugh. “Touche,” he tossed. “Okay, change of subject,” he smirked. “This Gala of yours, this opening night do you’re organising.”

She shrugged. “What of it?”

“Well, I suppose I’d like to know when it is.”

“Why, do you want to go?” Her sudden burst of eagnerness made her grimace. “I mean,” she composed herself. “Do you plan to attend?”

Here goes nothing, Ansgar thought.

“I believe I do,” he said, plainly. “That is, if you will allow me to accompany you for that evening. It’s the very least I can do.”

Jo pushed her spoon through what was left of her gazpacho, watching the bits swirling round the bottom of the bowl. She smirked, her head bounced slightly on the sound of humor. “When I stormed your castle this morning…” She chanced her gaze back up, “I… well, uh… I didn’t think…” she spread her hands wide and circled around the half eaten dishes they’d consumed, “this would happen.”

Ansgar laughed with her, matching her mirth. The exaggerated and animated gesture unexpected but none the less amusing. He dipped his head in an almost bow. “Admittedly, this wasn’t my agenda for the day.”

She pointed upwards and nodded, dropping the last of her pride, and then shrugged, “It was the least I could do.”

The imitation of him was spot on and he gave into a good-natured chuckle at his own expense. He’d extended that precise statement to her more than once, to assuage his guilt, to be the attentive and present CEO that he should’ve been, to be the man he believed himself to be. “Fair play, fair play.”

As their laughter faded, Jo addressed the elephant that sat between them, pink and plump and ripe for a tickle. She chose her words carefully, mincing them so as not to wound or offend. “I don’t want your obligation.”

Then she waited, stealing another glance at the ring on his left hand, curled around a pint.

Don’t entertain it, Jo. Not for a breath, not for an afternoon, not for a thought or some scorching hot sexual fantasy. Your mother had a sense of humor, naming you after Dolly Parton’s other woman, but don’t be that woman, Jo.

You’re not that woman.

Clearing her throat, she covered her pause and stray thought. “Well, that’s not entirely true. I do actually want your obligation.”

This was met with a furrow of his brow and his fingers brushed the sexier than sin stubble at his chin.

“My professional self would feel satisfied… I’d get off—I’d celebrate it!”

Pull it together… Jesus, Jo!

“As CEO of the company that built my building,” she carefully spoke without a trace of arrogance, “I absolutely want your obligation. But me? Jo, me?” To illustrate her point, she splayed her hand over her heart, inadvertently accentuating her breasts. “She… she doesn’t want your obligation.”

Ansgar lowered his pint from his lips, his movement slow and controlled. He seemed to consider her words as if each one were a bead of condensation that hung on the glass. “I think you’ve misunderstood me…” That was the moment he struggled with a way to address her.

“I understand it. Your company and your name are in jeopardy, but I’m not looking for that kind of publicity. I won’t say anything to the press. As long as the work in the theatre is fixed by opening,” she waved her finger between them, “we’re sorted. Hell, make it a restoration special, to the press if you want… your good deed for the community, for Stockholm. We’re square.”

Ansgar couldn’t help but smile at her take on his invitation. A diplomatic and thoughtful, perhaps even pragmatic solution to the complication that brought this woman trampling down the door to his office. If he read her correctly, he’s piqued her interest, if the lack of drink thrown in his face were a sign. She remained his lunch companion, another indication that he hadn’t piqued her anger. He couldn’t use work obligations to spend an evening with her.

Using a different tactic, he began, as his grin intensified, “Well, as long as we’re square—“

Before he could say anymore, she cut him off, “Hey! I got an obligatory lunch for my efforts.” She grinned over a piece of seasoned bread she shoved into her mouth. “That was the least you could do. My gala,” she shook her head, her speech muffled by bread, “would go above ‘the least.’”

#the best intentions

[illyrianwingspans]

Do Not Go Gentle: Grave Digger

Link to song: Grave Digger (stripped) by Matt Maeson (my absolute fave artist)

Synopsis: A wedding. Kind of. 

TW: Violence, domestic abuse, domestic violence, dark thoughts, mention of self-harm and suicidal ideation. 

Ao3 Link

Chapter 10: Grave Digger

The dress was monstrous. When I’d first tried it on, I thought it was a joke. Something Ianthe had picked out to make me laugh. But when I saw the joy and approval in her face, I realized the grave mistake I’d made in even setting foot in the thing. She’d called over the shopkeeper without a moment’s hesitation to announce that we’d made our decision, though I hadn’t even said a thing.

It didn’t matter anyways. Weddings weren’t my thing, and I knew Ianthe had better taste than me. She knew that this would probably make Tamlin happy. Gods knew that I would’ve picked a dozen dresses before even nearing this one.

And the mess and tangle of lingerie that I was wearing below this had me sweating and itching as I paced the entrance of the wide double doors leading into the church. I couldn’t even scratch—I wouldn’t know where to begin amidst the layers of tule and chiffon. The corset also made it hard to breathe. I’d balked when Alis had first presented it to me when she aided me in dressing, cursed everyone and everything as she’d pulled the strings taut and nearly squeezed the life out of me, yet appreciated the effect of it nonetheless. Though I was already thin enough as it was.

“Are you almost ready?” Alis asked, her face bubbling with joy and excitement. I nodded my head in affirmation, trying to mimic her expression, but couldn’t help as my thoughts wandered to my family.

I’d sent the invitation. I’d even called my father during those months of boredom, several times—fruitlessly. No one would walk me down the aisle, not that I needed it. I could walk myself. And I didn’t need my sisters as bridesmaids, my sisters who hadn’t deigned to speak to me in years. Alis would walk before me and hold my bouquet. White peonies, roses and baby’s breath. It was so enormous that my hands were lost in them.

As though I was hearing it through water, the string quartet began to play in the distance through the closed doors before us. Ianthe was already in there, finishing last minute details, ordering everyone in their places, and was probably gushing with delight at this very moment.

“Alright, it’s time,” Alis beamed, and I nodded my head hurriedly. Panic squeezed my lungs as the doors opened and Alis began walking ahead in her gold satin slip.

Everyone stood, people I had seen at office gatherings, this or that party—my list of invites had been extremely short. Most of my friends were already in the wedding party, anyway. My family hadn’t showed up, which wasn’t to be a surprise. And Rhysand—

I hadn’t bothered inviting him or Cassian. I knew Tamlin would’ve said no anyways.

The first step I took was shaky. Alis was nearly to the end, and I could only just be seen at the mouth of the church. Finally, people turned where they stood to take in the sight of me—baubled and made up like a dazzling doll. Murmurs of excitement and approval ran through the gathered crowd.

And there, at the podium with the minister and Lucien at his side, Tamlin stood in his white tuxedo and black bowtie. His face was set in a full, dazzling smile as he took in the sight of me, and his green eyes were enough to have me melting. I took another step, ready to join us together, ready to step into the next chapter of our lives—

I looked down. To the white, velvet carpet that’d been laid on the church’s sandy, tan floors, and was transported to a memory that surfaced a few mere weeks ago.

“Flowers,” Ianthe said, clicking her pen against her lips. She’d invited me up to her office to discuss the finalizations of colour schemes, seating charts and the photo-booth (I didn’t know why we’d need a bloody photo-booth if we had a photographer already) while Tamlin finished up for the last hour of the day. I was still jittery after passing by Hum’s on the building’s main floor, and tried to ignore the intrusive thoughts trying to jam their way into my consciousness.

“Um, whatever fits the scheme. White?”

Ianthe thought it over for a moment, her eyes flicking upwards as he tried to imagine it in her mind. “Yes, I guess that would work with your bouquet. For everything else, though—”

“I don’t care, honestly. Whatever fits the scheme.” I had no clue what the ‘scheme’ was, but I had to pretend as though I was reading her emails and was actually invested into this entire affair. Another thought of the shop entered my mind, and I blurted out, “Except red.”

“Hmm?” Ianthe clicked away at her tablet, eyes stuck to her screen.

I repeated, “Any colour, except red.” She nodded absentmindedly, and I continued to flick through pictures of flowers, eyes training on the peonies.

Before, scattered perfectly haphazardly across the aisle leading me to my soon-to-be husband, were red rose petals, drops of blood speckled across the white.

When I looked up at Tamlin, I saw that the handkerchief in his pocket was gold and red.

Three hundred people blurred and melded together as they stared at me, dressed in this ivory gown. I shouldn’t be wearing this. Because I was a fraud. Because my hands, clutching the bouquet for dear life, were so filthy.

Everyone else was thinking it as their eyes drank in my every step. They had to be.

Each second extended longer than the last. Every pace closer to Tamlin, though, felt too fast—

He stood there, his chin held high, his eyes glistening as the warm afternoon sun glinted across the velvet accents of his tux. Ahead of me, a cluster of red petals loomed—just like the pool I kneeled in next to Isaac’s dead body.

I stopped in my tracks. Ten feet before the dais, I just…stopped.

Lucien’s brow furrowed. Tamlin only stepped forward and extended his hand, the unwavering confidence in his features begging me to close the distance between us. Hundreds of eyes watched me as I stood there, unmoving. My heart was pounding in my ears.

I was going to vomit.

The sunlight was too harsh, the people surrounding me crowding in, trapping me, until there was barely any air left for my aching lungs to breathe. As inescapable as the vows I was about to make, binding him to me for life, to this broken, weary soul.

Forever—I would never get free of myself, of my mind, of the beast that roiled within me, the one that’d pulled that trigger, the one that spent every waking and sleeping moment stuck in that car, kneeling in that storage room—

“Feyre,” Tamlin said, a small smile on his lips, but there was panic in his eyes. It was nothing like the panic within my chest, a bird flapping its wings, begging to break free. I only stared back, wide-eyed, unable to move.

If I turned away, people would whisper. If I walked out—I’d find myself completely and utterly alone in this world. But I couldn’t make it to the dais. Not for my sake, but for his—he couldn’t shackle himself to me. I wouldn’t let him.

Butcher. Killer. Murderer of innocents.

My foot stumbled as I tried to retreat, but a piercing noise broke the silence as the middle-most stained-glass window of the church seemed to burst, then fall to the floor in scattered, broken pieces.

People screamed, falling back, and many fell to the floor as the resounding sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the large space. I just stood there, mouth agape, unable to move. Everyone else was on the ground—I looked over to see Tamlin sprawled on the dais, Lucien and Ianthe beside him. But I could only stand there.

Frozen. Paralyzed.

Then I felt heat, heat in my hands, and I looked down to realize that the flowers had been completely destroyed. They were shaking, and I realized it was my hands—shaking, just like they had been when I clutched that gun.

And to my right, embedded in the shredded wood of the pew, was a bullet.

+

I sat in bed, the blanket curled around my shoulders, staring straight ahead as Tamlin made another phone call.

It hadn't taken long for everyone to clear out of the church. People fled, alarms blared in the distance, and I remembered Tamlin yelling for me. But I'd only fallen to my knees, unable to move as I was brought back to my trembling legs buckling, falling to the cold cement blanketed in warm blood. His arms had wrapped around me, and I'd clutched him hard as he near dragged me out of the church, down the aisle of blood, to safety where the police were stationed.

Rounds and rounds of questions. The angle of the bullet, the timeline of events. Tamlin frowned the entire time I carefully recounted walking down the aisle, and I left out the whole detail of me barely making it to the dais. Hours went by. Questions, security measures, phone calls and possible suspects. They'd scoped out the buildings nearby and found nothing. The security footage was requested from them all and would be looked over meticulously in the coming days.

Still, as I wrapped myself tighter in the warmth of the sherpa throw, I couldn't help but think of Rhys's warning yesterday. How I'd blatantly ignored it, and purposefully kept it secret from the cops.

Tamlin sighed and ended the call. His words had all blurred together throughout the day, I could barely decipher one from the next anymore. No, all I could focus on was the terror, the guilt—

Because bullet or not, I wasn't sure I would've walked down that aisle today. And that...

That's what terrified me the most.

Tamlin's eyes met mine. I didn't know what it was about the expression on his face, the exhaustion that weighed down his shoulders, but my eyes filled with tears. Chin quivering, I looked away, unable to face him.

“Feyre,” he murmured gently, then kneeled on the bed, climbing into it until he sat beside me. A sob tore from my mouth as I turned into him, clutching his shoulder as I buried my face into his chest.

“Why?” he asked. The betrayal in his voice stung. “Do you...” he trailed off, his voice thick with tears. “Do you not want to marry me?”

I looked up, telling myself that he at least deserved some sort of explanation.

“No, Tamlin. I love you. I love you.” My fingers trembled as I ran my hand through my hair to pull it away from my face. “It's just... I don't know what it was. I had a panic attack.”

His face hardened. We didn't usually talk like this, but it felt good to say it. To know he would listen. I continued, face heating with embarrassment, “There were red roses. And I looked at them and all I could think of was...” I couldn't finish the sentence.

He knew, though. He knew, because he sighed and rolled away from me until he was standing once again, pacing the length our bed. I shifted until I was kneeling at the foot of it, sheets pooling around my thighs. For a few moments, he was just silent, until he finally turned to me with a sharp glint in his eyes.

“Why couldn’t you have just tried? Held it together, for once?”

My expression dropped into a placid, stony one, filled with contempt. It was like all the blood left my veins and I was left with only icy, lethal disdain. “I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you today. Really. My panic is completely controllable, I just decided, I chose to make a fool of myself in front of you and all your friends.” Then I stood, unable to be beneath him, below him. I saw, I saw the rage that was beginning to burn his eyes, and I knew what it would bring—

And I didn’t care.

“Why aren’t we talking about the fact of how you inconvenienced me today, Tamlin? About how that bullet that nearly killed me was all because of the situation you put me in? For your company, and yourself?”

He pointed an accusatory finger at me as the blood filled his face. “You don’t get to say that. Everything I do is for you. For us. Don’t you dare tear me apart for the sacrifices I make.”

I laughed bitterly. “Sacrifice? You sit up in your ivory office pushing papers, signing deals and sweet talking crooked businessmen while I am nearly beaten to death in the trenches of your dirty work. So don’t fucking utter that word around me ever again.”

I turned away, prepared to barricade myself in the bathroom, take a cold shower maybe to cool the rage simmering my blood. Only I felt his hand wrapping around my wrist, pulling me back to face him.

Before I knew it, I was against the wall, clutching at the hand wrapped around my neck, squeezing.

No air. There was no air in my lungs, and I choked, sobbed, eyes wide with panic as Tamlin’s furious face was all I could see. Black spots danced at the edge of my vision, and I kicked, kicked with all my might—

He released me. I fell to the floor, hacking, heaving, trying to shove as much air as possible in and out of my chest. Everything burned, and my fingers felt numb. Tamlin didn’t say a word as I kneeled there, a trembling hand running over the aching skin of my neck.

He didn’t say a word as he walked away.

I’d pushed him. I’d pushed him too hard, and I knew how he’d react. I knew he’d do this.

In the distance, a door slammed shut, and I knew he’d be sleeping on the couch in his study, tonight.

I didn’t care.

I didn’t care as I pulled myself up and half staggered into the washroom. I didn’t care as tears streamed down my cheeks, descending my bruised neck tentatively as if not to disturb the skin anymore than it’d already been violated. I didn’t care as I drew a bath, sank into its waters, and stared up at the ceiling wishing the human body wasn't so adamant on staying alive, that I could breathe the water into my weak lungs and finally have it all be over.

I didn’t care about what Tamlin had done to me. Not anymore. Because the cruel, black wicked part of my soul, the one that murmured in my ear every waking second—butcher, killer, murderer of innocents—

It knew. It knew that I deserved it.

#dngg #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #sjm #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #feyre #rhysand #feysand #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction

[jennsmischievousmind]

EXSOMNIS

CHAPTER 3 -  Expecting the unexpected

Exsomnis: Wakeful, Vigilant

Summary: Fresh Doctor out of residency you didn’t expect Conyers to be this uneventful until everything happened at the same time. From the outset, an odd meeting with what seems like a steadfast Detective but it was only the beginning.

Notes: English is not my native language, I’m trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

Based on the movie Prisoners by Denis Villeneuve (so I don’t own any of the OG characters) if you haven’t seen it, I recommend you do (maybe before reading) :) The story takes place before and through the event in the movie.

“Hi, I’m here for stitches removal.” He announced typing his fingers on the desk.

“Hold on,” the nurse picked up a file while the phone kept ringing. Erin came at the desk, a tablet in hand.

“Detective Loki, hello, how can I help you?” She asked much more enjoyed than usual.

He eyed her confused. “Hello, uh I came to get my stitches removed.”

“Right, yes, you can wait in treatment 3, a Doctor will see you soon.” She smiled and lead him to the room.

 You were putting your white coat on when Erin rushed in the locker room.

“Doctor Y/L/N! Y/N, you got a patient in treatment 3.”

“I’m not on shift yet Erin, be indulgent with me would you.” You stretch your arms above your head, and you saw her smirk.

“What is it?” you rearranged your collar.  

“You better take this case asap.” she shooed you out the locker room, making sure you were going to treatment 3.

“You’ll thank me later.” she winked and disappeared.

“What!?” You stood there confused, holding the tablet she gave you. Finally looking at the file opened on the tablet, your eyes widened. Raising your head, you squinted your eyes to found her and gut her with your stare. Unfortunately, she was smart enough not to stay in your sight. You took a deep breath and opened the door. Blue eyes locked onto yours immediately.

“Morning Doc!” he stopped pacing around the room finally seating on the bed. Doc it is, alright, you said to yourself.

“Good morning, Detective, how are these stitches?”

“You tell me.” He removed his jacket and lifted his black long sleeve top, you watched him do so from the corner of your eye as you put your gloves on, getting the kit from the drawer. He lowered his pants on his own this time, lying down, you gulped. It was pretty awkward now that you two knew each other but your professional self took control.

“Seems pretty, you asserted cleaning the stitches, you’re going to fill a tug when I removed the thread, tell me if you want me to stop.”

You waited for him to answer but he just nodded, placing your right arm on his left thigh for more stability you felt it tensed. You picked a sterile pincer to pick up the knots, at the same time grabbing surgical scissors to cut each one. The sound of the scissors on the aluminum tray echoed in the room, you could only hear the daily hospital bustle outside the room. Picking up a pincer to pull on the thread his abdomen suddenly contracted, he let out a hissed.

“Sorry,” you whispered still concentrated on the task. You repeated your action on the second wound as he watched your every move. While getting rid of the second thread you brushed his rib with your fingers feeling the cut, he inhaled slightly. Glancing up stealthily you caught him looking at you, he immediately averted his eyes, a grin crept onto your lips. After cleaning the wounds again and putting adhesive strips you were finally done.

“It shouldn’t leave bad scars if you take care of it seriously.” The gloves hit the open bin’s loop.

“Not the first scars ...and it’s not like we have the beach here so...” He grinned, putting down his top.

“Your friend might mind.” You taunted, he smirked.

“Well I’ll see that, he said putting on his jacket as you put away the kit.

The little hope you had faded at his saying. 

“When I have one.” he added.

“Oh … “ that’s all you could manage to say right now, finding out he was single took over any rational answer.

“Work is ... taking all my time.” His hand unconsciously reaching his belt where his badge hanged.

“Welcome to the club!” You slide your chair to the corner letting a sigh escape, seizing the tablet and typing the prescription on it.

“I’ve sent you the procedure to get ‘pretty’ scars, if someday you moved to the west coast.” The corners of his mouth turned up and he chuckled, you opened the door. Not that you weren’t having a good time with him, but work does come first.

“Or happened to have time for a girlfriend,” he coaxed brushing past you on the threshold.

“Or that, you laughed softly clutching the tablet on your chest, gazing at him.

“Careful!” you grabbed his forearm pulling him forward, he looked behind to see a nurse with a cart entering the treatment room 2. One of his hand had left his pocket as an unconscious protective move and was now on your ribs. His attention resumed to you, he felt his hand on you so immediately removed it.

“Sorry” his thumb hooking on his belt, you shook your head. 

You were still pretty close, you let your hand slide on his arm, brushing his fingers. 

“I don’t mind.” you smiled coyly.

 His lips parted “Could we...”

“Dr. Y/L/N?” you turned around to see a bunch of med students.

“Got to run, sorry” motioning to the group behind you.

He nodded, his jaw somewhat clenching.

“See you around?” he said taking a few steps backward.

“Hopefully not in the E.R” he smiled as you winked and turned to the group.

“All right, so today you’re with me, Dr. Y/L/N, observe, answer my questions and ask some, I’m insisting on this point don’t be afraid to ask, you’re here to learn.”  

 “Did it go well!?” she casually asked entering the locker room.

“You little brat," you laughed, "you’d do anything.” You closed your locker.

She paused “…f’course I would. Jamie told me you ended up quite close.” She wriggled her shoulders.

“Jamie? The med student?" She nodded, "it wasn’t like that, there was this nurse with the cart and,” ... you saw her smiled widely “all right! I may happen to know that he is single and straight for that matter.”

“Yes! Kinda guessed he was though.” She shrugged.

“Thank god he is single, or I could be dealing with a legit annoyed girlfriend right now.” 

She laughed out loud. “Come on, it’s not like you two make-out in corners and don’t tell me you’re not glad to know he is.”

You passed by her, swinging your bag over your shoulder. “Maybe,” you smiled.

“Wait for me! I want details!!” she rushed to her locker as you laughed, leaning on the door frame.

A week passed, one morning you had to calm Erin when you ran into Loki at the coffee shop, she franctically nudged at your arm and pretexted a call as soon as he aproached you. Stealing the car keys from your hand, she grabbed her latte and disappeared, letting you 5 minutes top with him.

She almost didn’t open the car, telling you by the ajar window that it was too fast and you had to go back talk to him.

In the middle of the night, your phone rang, scaring the shit out of you. You hope the hospital wasn't in need of a doctor. You hang off lazily putting the speaker on. 

“Hmm!?” You hummed eyes still closed.

“Y/N, something happened at the hospital, I don't know what to do!!” You heard sobbed and finally got everything she said.

“Rach? Rachel is Erin with you!?” She tried to answer mumbling something.

“All right, I'm coming to get you!” Stumbling out of bed, you grabbed a hoodie, hop into yesterday's jean and get down your stairs 2 by 2. Snatching your car keys on the way to the door.

“Shit!” The air was freaking cold against your bare face and bare feet in your shoes. Starting the engine, the clock on the board flashed 3:45 you'd be at Erin and Rach's in about 15 minutes.

15 minutes to remember that Erin was on shift all night, you started imagining the worst, unconsciously speeding up. After picking up Rachel, she explained she had a call from the police, there has been a shooting at the hospital.

You stopped breathing, tears coming up your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst, Erin, all the people you work with flowed in your mind... Rach continued with difficulty.

“Erin is fine, but they wouldn't let me know about the others. She was in the middle of it..” she sobbed.

“Where is she now, still at the hospital!?” you stroke her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

“At the police station, I told the officer we were coming.” you nodded and started back the engine.

Parking up at the police station you both rushed inside. The bustle was infernal, families were yelling at cops to know more about the shooting, if there were injured victims, some were still stained with blood, people were totally devastated. Concerned about your co-workers arise even more, you tried to remember tonight's planning. 

The officer behind the glass had you signed a presence paper before you entered the main open room. 

“ERIN! Rach wailed running to her loved one. 

You let a relief sigh escape your lips, stopping a few steps behind them, your hands on your trembling knees, you close your eyes and breath deeply. Even though Rachel had told you Erin was fine seeing her was the best proof. You hugged them both. Erin couldn't stop shaking, her eyes were puffy and receding, she kept looking at her bloody nurse blouse.

“Erin, hun, we need to remove your blouse, all right?“ you told her gently.

Rach helped her lift her arms as she was still in shock. Thankfully her top underneath didn't get stained. 

You waited, hours, in the station, there were many witnesses, worried families, paperwork. Around 6 am, the coffee machine had become your savior, forehead on the vending machine you were waiting for your 5th coffee, you knew at this rate caffeine won't be as effective, but it was better than staying seated in the main room with everyone. Most of your co-workers had left, some went back to the hospital, some went home, you started wondering what you would have done.

“Fuck!” You startled at the sudden voice, turning your attention to it, Loki came to you removing his beanie. An odd sense of safety overwhelmed you, he stopped a feet away.

“Are you okay!? He asked, his eyes sporting a worried look you hadn't seen yet.

“Yeah, I mean … I wasn’t at the hospital, he sighed somehow relieved, can you tell me more about all this? Who’s the shooter, my friend almost died tonight!” your voice cracked.

Your breath got caught in your throat, saying it out loud made it way too real, taking support on the vending machine you inhaled deeply. The strong behavior you put up for Rachel and Erin crumbled in a matter of seconds, tears prickling at your eyes, legs quivering, you clenched your fits trying to control yourself.

“Calm down, he took a step further grabbing your shoulders, hey you’re okay.” His hand reached the side of your neck, his thumb brushing your jaw, forcing eye contact with you.

“Breathe, your friend is safe, you are safe.” You nodded, his other hand sliding a strand of hair aside your face, you slowly regained your composure, concentrating your breathing on his.

He looked around, “Get your friend and follow me okay.“ He retrieved his hands becoming self-conscious, you stood straight up and sniffed, pulling yourself together, you waved at Rach to brought Erin as you followed Loki in an empty office. Erin sat on the two-place couch followed by Rachel. You stayed up as Loki sat on the desk.

“You remember the guy I brought in the hospital a few weeks ago? The guy who got shot by an officer and passed away...” 

“And stabbed you.” You cut him furrowing your brows.

"Yeah, … well, the shooter is his brother, we found multiple weapons in their house. Don’t ask me why he decided to take on the hospital, I don’t know yet. I’m just glad he’s a bad shooter, no loss, only injuries, bruises and shock are to deplore, he said looking at Erin, he’s been arrested immediately."

“Thanks for letting us know.” Rach nodded stroking Erin’s hair. He pursed his lips, looking away.

“Did someone took the deposition and brief you around the all procedure?” he asked Rach, then glanced at you.

“No, actually it’s been hectic, there are so many people out there,” you answered looking at the crowd behind the blinds.

“Okay, wait here” he stood up and disappeared a few minutes, you paced the office, biting your thumbnail, while Rach rocked Erin in her arms.

Loki came back with a laptop. “I’ll take your deposition, so you can go home.” he stated.

Lips parting in surprised, you watched him settle in the office.  “Thanks! you exclaimed, can we stay with her?” he nodded looking intently at you.

Erin hesitantly sat in front of him at the desk while you joined Rachel on the couch.

You tried not to stare at him as he was concentrated on his job, typing faster than you’ve imagined. You noticed his erratic blinking again, trying to remember in all the med books you had read where it could come from. Lost in the medical side of your brain you didn’t hear him said it was done. Rach nudged at your arm.

“Hm, sorry?” you blinked.

“The Detective said we could go.” Rachel replied taking Erin by the shoulders, she glanced at Loki then you.

“Oh all right.” You stood up and watch him open the door for them, Rach looked at you both.

“We’ll … wait in the car, Rachel said eyeing you intensely, you patted your hoodie’s pocket searching for your keys, she grabbed them and initiated a smile.

“I hope your friend will get through quickly.” He leaned on the door frame, crossing his arms.

“She’s strong, she’ll make it. And she has Rachel to rely on.” You watched the girls going through the crowded station.

He nodded. “Y/N … your name on his lips was oddly satisfying. I’m glad you weren’t at the hospital, I got … worried when I heard the radio call and that I couldn’t check on you.” He nervously scoffed. 

You genuinely were stricken by his saying, it didn’t occur to you that someone could have been worried for you, nevertheless him.

“That’s...nice, you sputtered,… thanks, uhm you clumsily look for your phone… here” you handed him, so he could register his number and get yours. 

He handed it back taking a step further. The adrenaline of tonight rushing out, you took a deep breath.

“Will you be okay?” he softly inquired.

“Yeah, I passed the panic stage.” you sneered squeezing your wrist.

“Can we meet later, he asked, I don't know how much time I'll have but ...” 

“Call me! you urged. I'll surely be at Erin's. Thanks again.” Your hand pressed against his chest and in a spunk, you kissed his right cheek. He smiled a little and so did you as you passed by him.

You were cooking breakfast, while Rach was helping Erin cleaned up when your phone rang, quickly you wipe your hands on your jean. 

“Hey, …” you recognized his voice.

“Hey...where are you?“ you inquired biting your lower lip

“Outside your friend's house.” 

“Ok, m'coming”

Putting back your hoodie on, you told Rach you were going out a few minutes.

The sun wasn’t up yet, an opaque mist covered the road and grass around the block. He was parked on the other side of the road, waiting for you outside his car. Crossing the road hands buried in your hoodie’s pocket, you felt the urge to hug him even though it was very sudden and very early in what was going on between the two of you but you just needed some support, taking care of Rach and Erin while being exhausted took a real toll on you.

“Can I be bluntly honest and maybe bold with you right now?” You asked stopping a few feet away from him.

“Go on” he answered amused.

“I won’t say no to a hug.” You balance on your feet but stopped as the cold entered your sweater.

“Bold indeed” he looked down, you thought you’d blown it.

He pushed himself from his car and grab your sleeve bringing you into his arms. Caging your body with a strong hold, he slid his arms around your shoulders, you felt tiny into his arms, yours encircling his waist inside his jacket. Resting your head on his chest, you felt his hand caressed your hair, you tightened your embrace. You shuddered at the feeling of one of his hand reaching your waist, his grip tightened.

“Get in the car, you’re freezing.” He whispered.

You sat in the passenger seat and scoot over to him, facing his way. Knocking an empty coffee cup over with your knee, the handbrake bruising your calf. His features relaxed, he looked down at your hand slipping in your sleeve to keep it warm. He reached out taking it between his.

“Did you sleep?” he asked, concentrating on your hand.

“I slept, … you count on your fingers, 4 hours since my last shift, you let out a stifled laugh, you didn’t sleep much either I bet.” you frowned.

“I don’t sleep a lot in general.” he looked away almost ashamed.

“I could look at you and say that.” you taunted, trying to change the mood. 

“Well, thanks” he chuckled, you shook your head laughing.

“Do you want breakfast? I was cooking some for the girls.” you pointed at the house.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” he peeked in the rear-view mirror as a woman opened her garage door.

“Oh…” you started retrieving your hand from his.

“I mean, grasping at your hand, your friend has gone through a lot, I bet she doesn’t want an officer in her house.” He offered a half-smile.

“Touché … but believe me, if it wasn’t for this night’s event, she would like to have you and me for dinner at least.” You laughed, knowing she would indeed be thrilled to see you dating him.

“Dinner sounds great though… you and me.” he blurted out, squeezing at your hand.

“Definitely.” you caught a glimpse of the door's house opening, Rach’s head popping out. He looked at his left following your look, Rach closed the door trying to be discreet.

“Thank you again, for earlier.” He looked back at you, you leaned in deposing a gentle kiss on his sharp jaw, taking way more time than necessary.

He blinked like he did earlier, you waited for a sign from him, something that would tell you to go further but it didn’t come.

“Try to sleep.” he released your hand after a gentle squizz, you nodded a bit confused.

“Was it the Detective from earlier?” Rach asked taking a glass of juice. Erin lifted her head from her untouched plate.

“It was, yeah.” You didn’t elaborate more thinking it wasn’t the right time.

“Tell me you didn’t blow your chance.” Erin suddenly mumbled.

“She talks! You scoffed, and a little smirk appeared on her face, and no I did not ..I think.., per contra.” You winked, pressing the last orange.

“She was in his car, really close to him.” Rach giggled.

“I missed that!” Erin whined.

You urged her to eat something, while they asked details about your encounter with Loki. They were relentless, but seeing Erin thinking about something else than the incident was great. Rachel and you busied her mind with some trivial topics all day. 

You wondered where it would get you. Getting in a relationship was not something you had in mind at first, but then again he didn't react when you kissed his cheek so you didn’t know where exactly this were going.

"Don't overthink this Y/N!" You scolded yourself.

Chapter 4 - Two birds, no stone

#detective loki x reader #detective loki #exsomnis #prisoners #jake gyllenhaal imagines #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal #jennfic #slow burn #fanfiction #hugh jackman #keller dover #alex jones #paul dano

[rockinthebeastmode]

Sabotage II

A/N: So...it’s been awhile 😅 but it’s here! Apologies for the torturous wait—I can’t promise it won’t happen again but who knows, the next part might come easier 🤷🏽‍♀️ I’d said before that it’ll only have 1-2 more parts but now I’m not entirely sure. We’ll just have to see what happens! Hope you enjoy! 😁 Special thanks to the anon who suggested kids names, you da best

You can find Sabotage I here.

You can find the rest of my fics here.

@mmfdfanfic @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus@lilaviolet @laurielau @hey1tskat1e @tinakegg@kneekeyta @likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window @stinemarine @lurkernolonger @crystalgiddings1993 @milllott@milymargot @vivammfd @finn-nelson-for-the-win @ifinallyknow@isthistherightwayround @believethaticanandiwill @paisleystuff@arathewallflower@whatthefuckisthisfuckingfuckery Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)

Sabotage II

Finn looked up from his bike at the sound of a car pulling into his dad’s driveway and masked a grimace with a smile when he met Stacey’s eyes as she parked. His eyes slid off of her to the two kids emerging from the backseat, his smile instantly becoming genuine. He stood from his crouch and rubbed his hands on his jeans before holding his arms out.

“Oi, look who it is,” he called out, barely bracing himself as the two bolted into him, “Jesus, you’re growing too fast--nearly taller than me, Johnny.”

“That’s not saying much,” the girl piped up, Finn scrunching his nose at her.

“Watch it, Helena,” he said sternly, shooting her a wink, “How’re you?” He listened with wide eyes as his little cousins started talking simultaneously, trying to ignore Stacey until the last possible second. She cleared her throat, standing in front of them with her arms crossed.

“Hi Finny,” she began, her lips curling into a flirtatious smirk. He nodded back, forcing a smile. Before she could speak again, he looked down at the kids and raised his brows.

“Who wants a ride?” They shook their heads and his neck snapped back, an affronted look coming over his face.

“I’ll take one,” Stacey offered, her smirk widening and Finn’s cheeks reddened as he chuckled shakily.

“Thanks for bringing them by, Stace,” he said, his hands going to Helena and Johnny’s shoulders, “We’ll see ya Sunday, yeah?”

She nodded, her lips flattening as he brushed her off. She waved and backed a step, the three returning it as she turned and got back in the car. Finn kneeled down to the kids’ level and grinned.

“What’re we doing then?”

***

Rae bit her lip as she tuned her worn guitar, glancing over their shoddy open mic set-up.

With business slowing after Rob passed, they’d cut down on stock and made a small area for it. A couple tables and a makeshift stage was all that could fit but it helped profits, at least for awhile. Rae usually ended it off with a song or two and today was no exception, even with the sparse audience.

She strummed a chord, her mouth twisting as she adjusted the knobs. When she was satisfied with the sound, she cleared her throat lightly and began playing.

Good times for a change…

After being dragged around all of Stamford, Finn was hesitant when Helena insisted they stop into Town Records for the open mic, but he agreed, though Johnny was half asleep on Finn’s back. He rolled his shoulders and held onto him tighter as they entered the shop.

A brunette girl behind the counter looked to the door as it chimed and softly greeted them before returning to a corner stage. His gaze followed hers and he stopped in his tracks, Helena tugging on his arm fruitlessly.

Haven't had a dream in a long time

Rae’s eyes stayed low as she sang, her hair hanging in front of her face as she played. Finn was transfixed, her voice running over him and causing tingles down his spine. He felt goosebumps rise on his arms as she looked up and met his eyes briefly with a tiny smile.

So, for once in my life, let me get what I want

Lord knows it would be the first time

When the final notes rang out and she stood to a smattering of applause, Finn’s attention snapped back to his cousins with a jolt.

“Right, you two pick something out,” he said, bending to let Johnny down and lightly pushing them towards the record shelves. He inhaled deeply before approaching the stage. He offered a slight smile as she cleared the stage and faced him.

“Your voice is brilliant,” Finn blurted, wincing internally at his fervor. She blushed and breathed a laugh.

“Thanks,” she replied, their eyes meeting before she looked away to put her guitar away. Finn glanced over her open case, noticing several pictures and mementos inside.

“You and Rob were close?”

“Sorry?” He pointed to the pictures and she nodded with a slightly wistful sigh, “Oh. Yeah, we were...you knew him?”

Finn bit his lip and nodded, his shoulders lifting.

“Back in the day. I came in a lot in college.”

“Same,” she smiled before shaking her head as if to clear it, “Dunno where my head’s at. I’m Rae Earl.” She held out her hand to shake and Finn grasped it, holding it a beat too long.

“Finn Ne--Finn. Just call me Finn,” he stumbled over his words, deciding at the last second not to mention his surname. She smiled at him curiously and she half shrugged as she closed the case.

“Well, I’m glad you stopped in...I know it’s bit different than how Rob had it--”

“I like it,” he said quickly, his ears burning as she bit back a smile, “It’s different but in a good way.”

“When Rob left this place to me and his fiance, I knew I didn’t want it to lose it’s charm, y’know? Like I wanted to make it my own but Rob had such an influence and was so loved...I hope he’s somehow watching and proud of what it’s become.”

Rae knew she was banging on but Finn’s growing smile encouraged her to finish, “Music can really shape people, it’s something that can be so meaningful in so many ways and I just… I wanna do his memory justice.”

She reddened anew when Finn nodded, his lips pursed. He glanced over the shop before meeting her eyes again.

“Rob couldn’t have picked a better successor,” he stressed, his hand raising to his hair as she grinned, the entire room seeming to brighten.

“Finn, can we go home now? Johnny’s starting to whinge,” Helena broke in, tugging her little brother along. He rubbed at his eyes and Finn sighed as he picked him up, Rae stifling a laugh.

“Cute kids,” she said, Finn grimacing as his arms twined around his neck tighter, “Yours?”

“Fuck no,” he rushed out, Helena pushing at him with a scandalized gasp.

“Language, Finn Nel—“ He covered her mouth hastily, his other arm wrapped around Johnny’s back.

Rae laughed again, not seeming to catch the almost slip. He reluctantly let himself get pulled to the door, Rae still giggling behind them. She called out to him as Helena dragged him over the threshold.

“Laters, Finn!”

***

Saturday morning saw the grand opening of No Crap Entertainment and everything was going well--even better than Finn had expected. He and Chop surveyed the store from a small balcony, watching the bustle below.

“It’s busy, innit?” Chop said, looking over the crowd warily. Finn nodded and fiddled with his tie.

“Busy is good. Busy is money,” Finn said simply, swallowing against the knot in his throat, “Our rock section is limited...Town Records has us beat for sure.” Chop side-eyed him, his mouth twisting.

“Nice way to look at it,” he teased, Finn smirking and elbowing him.

“Y’know what I mean...Dad’s expectations are high.”

“This place is a well-oiled machine, my lad. You’ve got nought to worry about.”

Several blocks down, Town Records was like a ghost town. Saturdays normally held their best sales but business had dropped significantly. They all knew why but stayed silent, all preoccupied throughout the shop. Rae busied herself dusting the shelves and reorganizing while Chloe pored over financial records. Izzy alternated between her phone and tablet, tweaking their social medias and researching. Archie hadn’t shown up yet but he’d left a note for Rae that morning that he’d be in later.

As if on cue, the door chimed as it opened, Archie coming in with a girl behind him.

“Look who I ran into,” he announced, holding his arm up to present he and Rae’s mate from uni.

“Katie! Wow, it’s so good to see ya,” Rae pulled her into a hug, “Your new album’s dropping soon, yeah? We’ll have a signing for sure—“

“Never mind all that,” she waved a hand dismissively and held Rae’s shoulders, “Are you alright? I’ve been so worried.” Rae exchanged a worried glance with Archie.

“What d’ya mean?”

“Are you surviving? What, with this bloody music superstore opening—“

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Rae spoke over her bracingly, “We’re totally fine.”

“No change whatsoever,” Chloe added, Rae shooting her a look across the room. Katie pulled her into another hug and she stiffened, feeling her stomach start to churn.

***

“Who’re these people again?” Rae tugged on her skirt hem, a frown crossing her face as she and Archie walked arm in arm.

“I told ya, my dad’s best mate is getting remarried—I grew up with his son.”

“Have I met him?”

“I don’t think so, he moved to Leeds when we were in college,” Archie’s mouth twisted in thought, “I think my dad mentioned him coming back but I dunno…” he trailed off as they reached the front door and he raised his fist to knock.

The sound just barely registered in the din on the other side, with people milling about the house and music loud in the background but the door was opened in moments. Across the room, Finn barely glanced at it before turning back to his father, Felicity, and Olivia.

“First day profits were promising. I expect they’ll drop a bit after the initial hype but we should be in good shape,” Finn said, Gary nodding before sipping his beer.

“How’s the staffing?” Finn opened his mouth to reply and Felicity held up a hand to stop him.

“Let’s not talk business, boys. It’s a party,” she chastised, her arm wrapping around Gary’s waist. He beamed down at her and kissed the top of her head, Finn’s nose wrinkling as he smiled. He turned to Olivia beside him, his hand moving to her arm.

“Alright?” he asked, leaning closer as she nodded, “Y’need anything?” She shook her head and Finn’s eyes slid from her to survey the room, a frown crossing his face.

The Nelson family wasn’t expansive but Gary seemed to know near everyone in Stamford. Finn hadn’t really seen anyone here since childhood and it was equal parts comforting and horrible.

As great as seeing family and friends was, Stacey making eyes at him from the kitchen didn’t appeal. He quietly excused himself, his fingers already reaching into his jacket’s inner pocket for his rollies. He plucked one from the pack, sitting it between his lips as he neared the foyer. He stopped short, the cigarette hanging precariously.

Rae looked over the room as Archie reacquainted with a couple she’d already forgotten the name of and did a double take at the glimpse of Finn turning and moving quickly towards the stairs. Her brow furrowed and she extricated herself from Archie, whispering her need for the loo. He pointed to the stairs as Finn disappeared into a room and she hesitantly made her way up.

She stood on the landing for a minute, her lips flattening as she found the bathroom. After freshening up and adjusting her skirt once again, she stepped out just as Finn emerged from a bedroom, the faint smell of smoke barely masked by CK One.

“Hiya. It’s Finn...right?” Rae began, her brow furrowing as he nodded, keeping his eyes anywhere but on her.

“And you’re Rae,” he replied, a strangled smile forming on his face, “If you’ll excuse me…”

He bounded down the stairs, Rae watching him go. At the bottom, he brushed past a blonde who began to ascend the stairs, rolling her eyes. She faced Rae and raised her brows.

“That’s a Nelson for ya, eh?” she carped, huffing a bit as she reached the top, “All business, all the time.”

“Nelson? As in—“ Rae mumbled, thinking back to reading up on NCE and its affiliates. Nelson Properties had been front and center.

“As in the Nelsons who own half of Stamford? Spot on,” she scoffed, “Who’s party did you think you were at, sweets?” She snorted as she moved past her to the loo and Rae saw red. Before she could think about it, she was taking the stairs two at a time, searching the room for Finn. She found him near the kitchen and she stormed towards him.

“Nelson? Finn fucking Nelson?” Rae spat, moving to his side. He frowned, grasping her upper arms and pulling her off to the side.

“Keep your bloody voice down,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is you interfering in my business—“ Finn rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“That’s bollocks,” he retorted, his brow furrowing as Rae’s face twisted sourly.

“You knew all along! I bet you hired those kids—“

“The only reason I was even in Town was for the open mic,” he continued, “I don’t give a rat’s arse about your business, Rae. There’s room for more than one music shop in Stamford.”

“Right, because what Stamford really needs is more mainstream rubbish.”

“S’not mainstream—“

“Bollocks,” Rae mocked, crossing her arms. Finn leveled a glare at her.

“We offer real entertainment to the masses,” he asserted, leaning closer, “NCE will practically be like the Tesco’s of music—“

Rae laughed haughtily, shaking her head. “Corporate mainstream rubbish then.”

“I s’pose you’re the expert,” he sneered, Rae raising her brows at him.

“I know my music.”

“And I couldn’t possibly know mine?”

“Doubt it.”

Archie appeared to their side, his hand clapping to Finn’s shoulder.

“Finn! Long time, mate.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and Finn subconsciously embraced him in a quick hug, “I see you’ve already met my roommate. Rae, this is—.”

“I know exactly who he is,” Rae fumed. Finn met her eyes, Archie immediately feeling the ire between them and raising his hands as if to mediate.

“There you are! Your dad’s looking for you, love,” Olivia said, reaching to take his arm. She smiled at Archie and Rae, raising her brows at Finn, “Friends of yours?”

His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he cleared his throat and reluctantly introduced her, the simmering tension rolling over them in waves. Rae spared him a dark scowl before turning to Archie.

“I’ll see you at home, yeah?” At Archie’s stunned nod, she crossed her arms, feeling the burn from Finn’s stare as she strode away.

***

fknhangthedj78: Do you ever feel like you’ve become the worst version of yourself?

Finn blew a plume of smoke sideways out the window and glanced up from his laptop at the sleeping forms of Olivia and Digsy. He tapped ash off his rollie over the ledge and replaced it between his lips.

fknhangthedj78: I was rude and a complete knobhead to someone I like and respect and it’s eating at me. I could’ve handled the situation so much better but instead, I lashed out and brushed them off like their feelings meant nought.

Rae rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her hair for what seemed like the millionth time that night. The strands began to stand on end as she yawned, the light from her laptop the only thing keeping her from dozing off.

snakebitesupernova: It’s the opposite for me. I get so stuck in the moment, so flustered that I can’t figure out what to say and end up driving myself mad later on with the what ifs. How do you handle someone trying to sabotage you? How do you respond to someone who acts or feels one way but directly contradicts themself?

Rae paused, her head tilting as she ran over her and Finn’s argument. She shook her head and continued.

snakebitesupernova: Even now, I’ve no fucking clue.

Finn jumped as his laptop chimed with a response and he gritted his teeth, lowering his volume as Digsy’s eyes blinked open. She jumped down from her spot on his pillow and padded over to him at the window, resting her head on Finn’s thigh. He scratched her behind the ears before answering.

fknhangthedj78: S’pose we could switch places--you get to be the arsehole for once while I keep my mouth shut.

He stopped, staring at the screen thoughtfully before typing again, his exhaustion overruling his sense.

fknhangthedj78: Do you reckon we should meet?

#mmfd fanfic #mmfdfanfic #mmfd fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfiction #my mad fat diary fanfic #my mad fat diary #mymadfatdiary #sabotage

[loljulie]

flicker; {004} a reservoir in your eyes

(yay part 4! thank you to the couple of people who helped figure out some stuff about this fic last night! it really helped me decide on how to write some things for this! as always, thank you to anybody who reads, likes, replies, or reblogs any of my writing - i legit teared up last night because of some of the nice things people have to say about it. it truly means a lot to me to hear/read your comments/messages. enjoy this part loves~)

genre: detroit: become human

deviant!connor x reader

word count: 3398 (yikes!)

▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓　 d̯̱̝̠̘̙͙e̼̯̣̗͈͇̳v̥̗̭̹̫ia̘̝͔͙͙̜ͅn͈t͇͓̦̻s̙̗͉̜͕  　▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

@dragonempress123​​​

@itstrashleydude​​​

@chisooyaaa​​​

@help-i-need-a-social-life​​​

@shadows-echoes​

@sygin

“That’s all I have prepared,” Connor ended his conjecture and sat down at the glossy, dark oak table. You, him, and Hank had been sitting in a conference room at the police station, trying to figure out how to move forth with the investigation.

It had been two days since Eden Club, during which you and Connor had exchanged awkward stares and polite conversation as you tried to work together. After an extensive review of the crime scenes you had missed, Hank called all three of you into the room to discuss leads or ideas. Connor had just gone, stressing the importance of rA9. After he was seated, a moment of contemplative silence passed, before Hank nodded at you.

You stood up, mentally running through what you wanted to discuss. Truth be told, you had really not come up with much. The crime scenes had been different in their own ways, but ultimately the story was always the same.

“If I’m being honest,” you started out, resting your palms against the cold table. “All things considered… I think we’re shit out of luck.”

Hank arched an eyebrow at you, as if proud of your blunt comment. Connor watched you intently.

“I’ve reviewed the evidence, and what it tells me is the same thing: deviancy can’t be predicted or prevented,” you opened up a file on your tablet and clicked the account you were looking for. “‘All androids from Eden Club have their memories wiped every 2 hours, in the interest of privacy for our customers.’ Every. Two. Hours. And yet, those two Traci models… they loved each other. Something inside them kept them coming back to each other, and it wasn’t their memories. It was stronger than that.”

“Even if we wipe memories of androids who have deviant tendencies, it’s still clearly possible for them to break free.” you paused, placed your tablet down, and let out a breath of air. “It… it might even be inevitable.”

You noticed Hank’s expression first, a pensive look in his eyes as he reflected on your statements. Connor, you noticed, wasn’t watching you anymore. His gaze was turned downward, at his hands in his lap.

“That’s… that’s all I have.” You sat down at the table, letting what you had just said settle in the room for a moment. When you turned to look expectantly at Hank, he met your stare and stood up. You straightened a bit, ready to hear what he had to say.

“I’m starving. Lunch?” He asked casually. It took you a moment to reply, as you were expecting him to talk about the investigation a bit more. Noticing your hesitance, he continued. “There’s nothing I can say that you two already haven’t.”

Finding that to be a decent answer, you and Connor stood up and followed Hank as he exited the conference room. As the three of you made your way through the station, a voice called out your name.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” You turned to see Gavin approaching you. Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw Connor stiffen. “How’s about that lunch we talked about?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized with a friendly smile before nodding to Hank and Connor. “I’m going with them.”

Gavin eyed your partners, his demeanor suddenly turning less friendly than it had been when he approached you. “Right…” he started, his stare resting on Connor’s face in a borderline threatening way. “You’re working on the deviancy cases with them.”

“Yes... so maybe next time?” You offered. At the sound of your voice, Gavin focused back on you, his features softening.

“Alright, then. I’ll be waiting,” Gavin added. He gave Connor another look before he left.

“I never liked that guy,” Hank commented as you continued your walk out of the police station. You shrugged.

“He’s not that bad,” you imparted, earning a scoff from Hank.

“Maybe not to the pretty ones.”

-

Glass shattering caused you to shoot up in your bed. You stayed still for a moment, your ears listening for any sounds of movement. Every part of you wished that you had been mistaken in what you heard.

When you heard footsteps walk around the living room, your blood ran cold. Someone was in your apartment, and they must’ve broken in through the window near the fire escape. You quietly got out of bed, trying not to alert the intruder. The first thing you had to do was arm yourself, just in case whoever was out there had a weapon as well.

As you tried to cross your room to the closet, the floorboards creaked beneath you. Your face grimaced as you halted in your tracks, hoping the sound would go unnoticed. Your hopes were futile.

“I-I know you’re in there,” a female voice called out. Shit. “Come out right now. I-I have a knife.”

You closed your eyes and stopped your breathing, hoping that maybe you could convince the intruder that the noise was imagined.

“I-I mean it. I’ll go in there and get you myself,” it demanded after a moment.

“Okay, okay,” you announced, walking slowly to the door. “I’m going to open the door. I’m unarmed, okay?”

Without hearing a response, you turned your bedroom door knob and pulled your door open. To your surprise, it was an android wielding a knife at you. Her LED was bright red, a stark contrast to the blue blood leaking from her shoulder. You kept your hands raised to show you were unarmed and slowly walked out of the bedroom.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, I promise,” you tried to reason. You had gone through enough hostage training scenarios at the academy to know how best to respond. Based on the nervous nature of the android in front of you, it was easy to realize she was a deviant and would hopefully want to make an escape without anymore blood on her hands.

She watched you intently, her knife still in front of her. The tip of it was drenched in red blood, further affirming what you already guessed. Her hair, which must’ve usually been kept in a bun, was messy and out of place.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, watching each other for any movement. Suddenly, your phone’s loud ringtone ruptured the silence, causing the deviant to jump.

“It’s just my phone,” you explained, remembering its place on your nightstand. “I should answer it.”

“No, no. You’ll pull some trick.” Her erratic voice matched her visible nervousness.

“It’ll be worse if I don’t,” you tried to reason. “They might send someone to check on me.”

The deviant seemed to consider it for a moment. Your heart was pounding, knowing that this could be the difference between life and death. Finally, the deviant nodded.

“Okay, fine, but I’m going to watch you the whole time.”

You nodded and turned your back, a move that filled you with dread, on the deviant. You walked into your room, keenly aware of the footsteps behind you. When you grabbed the phone and swiped to accept the call, a small wave of relief crashed into you.

“(Y/N), we just got a call. Dead body near your apartment complex, and blue blood around the scene.” Hank’s gruff voice was music to your ears at that moment.

“No, I’m sorry Hank. I can’t take you tomorrow because my car is in the shop.” You tried to keep your voice as level as possible, as the deviant had her eyes trained on you.

Over the phone, you heard the sound of tires screeching. Hank had insisted the two of you come up with a code phrase for situations like this, and it finally had been put to use.

“Got it. Be there soon. Stay on the line if you can. Connor, record this now.”

You breathed deeply. “Okay, goodnight.” Instead of pressing the end call button, you placed the phone on your bed with the screen facing down and the microphone pointed to the living room.

“Back into the living room,” the deviant ordered. You nodded and walked to the middle of the room, your heart skipping as you passed the deviant and her weapon. She kept you standing a comfortable distance away from her.

“What’s your name?” You asked, hoping to get any identifying information from her. Getting personal could make her less likely to kill you.

The deviant’s LED flickered before she answered. “Nicole.”

“Okay, Nicole. I’m (Y/N),” you revealed. Your eyes landed on the wound in her shoulder. “You’re hurt. Did… did someone do that to you?”

“Yes,” her voice was thick with emotion. “I-I was just trying to get back home. He had me run some errands and - and this woman came up to me.”

You could tell the story was hard for her to recount. She seemed to be loosening her grip on her weapon, which was a good sign.

“She started harassing me. Telling me I was the reason she was laid off. I tried to keep walking but she- she pushed me against the wall,” she struggled to speak as tears began to stream down her face. “She kept calling me all these terrible things. When she pulled out a knife, I knew she was going to kill me. I-I didn’t want to die. She stabbed me a-and something snapped in me.”

“It’s-it’s not fair. I just wanted to go home. I-I don’t deserve to die for existing.”

Her story hit something within you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed that the person you were speaking to were just any human. It would’ve made you feel bad for the deviant, if there wasn’t a knife wielded at you.  

“Wh-when I realized what I was doing, it was too late. Someone on the street screamed, I-I don’t know who. I just ran, tried to get to the roof, but… the sirens were-were just down the street. I panicked, I had to get out of sight.”

“I understand, Nicole,” you kept your voice calm and reassuring. “You can leave right now if you wanted to.”

She shook her head. “The police are at the crime scene. They-they’ll be looking for me.”

The metal clanging of footsteps climbing the fire escape caused Nicole to be momentarily distracted. You took your chance to run at her and attempted to kick the knife from her hand. However, her reaction time was faster than yours and her grip was stronger than the force from your kick.

Instead of taking the chance to slash at you, she pulled you against her chest and kept the knife trained at your throat just in time for Connor to appear in the shattered window.

When he saw you trapped against the knife, he raised his hands for the deviant to see that he was unarmed.

“Okay, okay,” he spoke cautiously, his eyes glancing from yours, to the knife at your throat, to the deviant. “We don’t want anything bad to happen here.”

Nicole was silent, her grip around your shoulders iron tight. Feeling the cold, sticky surface of the knife caused your heart to beat even faster than before.

“If you kill her, it’ll be even worse for you,” Connor claimed. He slowly stepped into the room, his hands still raised. Nicole allowed this but stepped farther from him and pulled you with her. “If you let her go now, you can still escape.”

“You’ll arrest me somehow,” Nicole’s statement seemed more like it was an inquisition. Connor shook his head.

“They don’t know where you are. I’m the only one. I just want her safe.” He nodded to you, and that statement seemed to make Nicole loosen her grip on you slightly.

“There’s a back exit,” you spoke up, your voice uneven and weak. You hated how wobbly your knees felt. “If you leave the front door and go left, you’ll find it. You’ll be on the opposite street from the police.”

Nicole seemed to contemplate this, and for a few dreadful moments, you waited in silence to hear her next move. “You,” she finally spoke, her eyes locked on Connor’s. “Unlock this door and open it for me. And don’t try anything.”

You flinched slightly at the warning, knowing exactly what threat hid behind her words. Connor accepted the order, walking past you and Nicole to get to the front door. You and the deviant watched intently as Connor unlocked door and opened it widely.

“Now stand back over there,” Nicole demanded. When he was at a safe distance again, she slowly backed up into the doorframe, looked to the left, and spotted the exit you had mentioned.

The next moment, you were released from her grip and pushed toward Connor, who caught you before you collided with the floor. You felt hot tears of relief escape your eyes as he gripped onto you tightly, as if afraid to let you go. You buried your head in his chest, finding the low hum of his mechanical heart comforting, and cried out your tension.

Fast footsteps down the hallway caused you both to pull apart out of fear. When the source turned out to be Hank, you embraced him as well. He wrapped his arms around you, letting out a sigh of relief.

“You had me worried there, kid,” he remarked, squeezing you tightly before letting go. He looked at your tear-streaked face, his own eyes starting to water. “I can’t lose you.”

You brought your arm to your face and wiped the tears away, completely soaking your forearm. When you had calmed down a little bit more, you glanced between the both of them.

“Are we going to check the crime scene?” You asked. Hank raised an eyebrow at you.

“If you think I’m letting you work after that, you’re some kind of stupid,” he answered, clasping a hand on your shoulder. His expression was softer than usual as he noticed your puffy, red eyes. “We got a lot from the conversation you had with the deviant. Connor and I can go to the scene and see what else is there, but you’ve helped us figure out what happened already.”

“Actually, Lieutenant,” Connor interjected, “I think it may be best for me to stay here. With (Y/N).”

You and Hank simultaneously stared at Connor. He shifted on his feet before explaining further.

“It’s just that, we don’t know if the deviant will return, and I can stay up all night guarding if I need to. And, as you said, we already know what happened at the crime scene.” He reasoned, then hastily added, “It’s the safest option.”

You looked back at Hank, who was watching you intently. Something flashed in his eyes that you couldn’t describe, but it caused him to sigh. “We shouldn’t take any chances,” he decided. He nodded to Connor. “If anything happens, call me right away.”

“I’ll fill the report out for this one, (Y/N). Just rest up.”

And with that, Hank gave you one final hug before disappearing through your door frame. You closed the door behind him, and double checked to be sure you locked it.

You leaned your back against the door and tried to focus on your breathing. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to take deep breath after breath as your mind calmed down what you just experienced.

“Would you like to get some sleep?” Connor’s question caused you to open your eyes. You shook your head and pushed yourself off the door.

“I don’t think I’d even be able to,” you answered as your footsteps took you to your couch. The soft cushions were a relief to sit down on. You didn’t realize how badly your hands were shaking until they were idle in your lap.

Connor joined you not too long after. His rested his hands atop of yours, and the comfort of his touch stopped their shaking. He was watching you intently, though your gaze was empty and your mind was elsewhere.

The deviant was right, and you couldn’t stop replaying her words over and over again in your head. I don’t deserve to die for existing. It sent shivers down your spine as you realized how human she sounded, and how terrified she was.

Without you realizing it, your hands had gripped onto Connor’s as if they were craving his touch. When Connor spoke, rousing you from your thoughts, you noticed the way your hands melted together and your cheeks felt warm.

“Lieutenant (Y/L/N),” his voice was soft, as if to match the stillness of the room. “I… I wanted to apologize.”

You arched an eyebrow at his statement. “For what?”

“For causing you emotional distress,” he answered, and for some reason it seemed like what he was saying was hard for him. “I didn’t mean to… and, I don’t like there being discomfort between us.”

Your mind reflected on the last time you had talked like this with Connor at the Eden Club. You remembered how he looked, drenched with rainwater, as you explained why you were so upset. The look on his face now was almost akin to that night.

“There’s… something else that I’m having trouble with, too,” he went on. You nodded for him to keep going. “There have been moments where I… I do things, or react to things, in a way that I shouldn’t.”

You waited patiently for him to explain, though your heart began to race in your chest.

“That first night I came here, when I put your hand back on my cheek… I couldn’t explain why I did that. Everything that happened afterwards I couldn’t understand either. I tried to convince myself that it was a programmed reaction, but I knew that it wasn’t. I did those things because I wanted to, and I couldn’t face that.”

All the work you had done to steady your breathing earlier was thrown out the window as you listened to Connor speak.

“I self-diagnosis myself constantly, and I… I see things that aren’t right. These experiences, especially with you involved… they’re doing something to my software. Even… even just seeing Gavin talk to you or look at you… I’m not programmed to want to punch him for it, but I have to stop myself from going through with it.”

“Connor… I…” you were at a loss for words. What could you even say to all of that?

“And I don’t know why all I want to do, right now and every time I’m near you, is… kiss you.”

Your emotions spurred your haste, breathy answer. “Then do it.”

In a matter of seconds, Connor’s hands left yours and cupped your face as he closed the distance between your lips. Your hands gripped the collar of his jacket, pulling him as close to you as you could. The first kiss you shared with Connor had been slow, and searching. This one, by contrast, was desperate and urgent.

You slowly leaned back until your head rested on the couch armrest, Connor hovering over you while his hands traveled steadily from your face to your hips. You broke away from the kiss, only to leave a trail of them on his neck. Connor rested his face against the side of your cheek, one hand trailing over the waistband of your pajama shorts while he propped himself up with the other.

“(Y/N)...” his voice moaned out, stirring warmth inside of you at how attractive he sounded calling your name. “Can we take this… further?”

You pulled away from his neck as he lifted his head to look into your eyes. His LED, which was a yellow color, was the only source of light between you two. There was something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen from him before… a mixture of lust and hopefulness that made your breathing hitch. The implication in his words weren’t lost on you by any means. A logical part of you was worried about what it would mean to Connor, but ultimately your emotions and desire won over.

The same conflict had occurred in the android above you, but was resolved when you nodded your consent. Something inside of him, that definitely could not be explained by his programming, took over as the two of you reconnected and became entangled in each other.

#detroit become human #detroit become human imagine #connor x reader #connor x reader fanfic #detroit become human fanfic #detroit: bh #rk800 x reader #flickerfanfic

[catknitmom-blog]

Dean's Girl Chapter Two

Dean’s POV

“So what are you thinking? Game wardens? FBI?” I glanced over at Sam as we pulled into the crappy small town motel.

“The Fed suits are good to intimidate the locals so I say let’s go with Agents Henley and Frey.” Sam said without glancing up from the tablet he was using to read the online copy of a local newspaper article.

I pulled Baby into the empty space outside of the office and shut off the engine listening for any odd sounds from the engine. Standing up I stretched my back and futilely tried to ease the back ache of driving 10 hours. Damn, I’m getting too old for this shit. Every hunt is getting harder physically and took longer recovery time. My knees are shot and after spending months in the federal hellhole prison, I’d rather collapse on a couch with a bottle of bourbon than gank some small town witch.

That’s what Sam thought we were hunting, a witch. A woman’s body stuffed inside a hollow tree with her right hand missing was the signal that we had a case. Something about this small Texas town kept bothering me like some long forgotten memory. It wasn’t just that I remembered coming through here after Sam took off to find dad during that fugly scarecrow case when I almost go sacrificed in a damn apple orchard. I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling like there was something important and bad about to happen. After all the hunts why the hell was I feeling nervous about an obvious salt and burn witch case.

I pushed opened the lobby door and walked up to the motel counter. Pulling out a credit card I did a quick glance at the name before signing in. Sam and I changed into our Fed suits and headed to the sheriff’s office to get the details of the dead woman.

As we walked into the office, I reached into my coat to pull out my badge. I stopped when I noticed a teenager working at the front desk. Her dark blonde hair was hiding her face as her hunched over what looked like an algebra textbook. When she heard us walking up she raised her very green eyes and stared straight with confidence and a slight smile.

“Hi. Can I help you?” I couldn’t help returning her smile. She was pretty and seemed to feel comfortable speaking to two men in suits. I had to say I was a little impressed since I know that Sam and I can be intimidating to young girls.

“Hello. I’m Agent Henley and this is my partner, Agent Frey. We need to see the sheriff about a case.” Sam answered.

“Sheriff Emerson stepped out for a minute, but maybe I can help. Do you want to see a case file?” She couldn’t be more than 14 so I wondered if she really could help us.

“That would be great, sweetheart.” I said with a wink.

“It’s Heather, not sweetheart.” The frown and raised eyebrow let me know that I wasn’t going to charm this one into giving us any information and my opinion of her raised even a little higher.

“Alright, Heather. Could you find any case notes about the woman who was killed three days ago.” I saw her face fall with sadness and tears form which made a unfamiliar wave of sympathy. “Sorry, did you know her?” I asked gently.

“Yeah. She was my mom’s best friend, Stacey Emerson.” Heather said as she turned around heading for a metal desk running her fingertips under her eyes swiping unshed tears. I felt like a jackass for making this young girl cry. She picked up a manilla folder and brought it back to the counter.

Reaching out for the file, I said, “Thank you, Heather. When Sheriff Emerson returns can you ask him to give us a call?” I handed her a business card before asking. “Was the sheriff related to woman?” Making the connection of the same last name, Emerson. I didn’t want to call her a victim thinking it would upset Heather more and why the hell did I care if this teenage girl was upset?

“Yes, sir. Stacey was Sheriff Emerson’s daughter.”

“Thank you for all your help. Is there a cafe or someplace we could grab a bite to eat?” I asked because from experience hunting in small towns it was always good to get the local opinion on places to eat.

“Yes, sir. My mom’s cafe is right on the other side of the square. Great WiFi too.” Heather brightened with pride as she talked about her mom. It made me smile at her enthusiasm.

“Sounds great.”

“Best pecan pie you’ve ever had!”

“Really?!?” I exclaimed and Sam let out a laugh knowing we would definitely be heading to her mom’s cafe for lunch. I took the file and we headed out the door.

“Let’s just walk since we’re right here.” Sam suggested and we headed around the courthouse for the opposite side of the town square.

R&H Coffee House was painted in bright red on a sign above storefront announcing what was the local cafe. There were tables set up outside on the sidewalk covered in red plaid table cloths with a napkin dispensers. The ceramic salt and pepper shakers where in the shapes of a tiny hen and rooster. Right outside the door was a quaint chalkboard sign with the day’s specials listened in colorful chalk. All of the decor was rustic and rural with a distinctly Texas flavor. As Sam pushed the glass door to enter, a door bell sounded that was the exact copy of a cow’s moo. Sam rolled his eyes while I let out guffaw at the unique way of announcing customers.

Walking up to the counter, we were greeted by another teenage girl about the same age as Heather, but this one was red headed. “Howdy! Just have a seat at any table and I’ll bring you some coffee. Right?” She said eyeing Sam and I and licking her cherry red glossed lips. Her obvious attempt at flirting was laughable and a little disgusting.

“Thanks.” Sam answered curtly and walked over to a table in the corner next to the windows where we could see the courthouse and town square. I sat down across from him while the girl working the counter came around the cash register and tottered over on platform heels.

The girl had way too much makeup on and the shortest skirt with a tiny little french maid apron. It actually made me feel old and dirty when she purposely leaned her hip against my shoulder. “What can I get for you?” Her name tag said “Steph”.

“How about some menus, Stephanie?” I asked in my stern FBI voice. She practically threw the menus on the table and stomped back to the cash register counter.

“What’s your problem?” Sam asked quizzically looking at me.

I blew a frustrated breath “I don’t know but there’s something about this town and that little girl acting little a slut really bothered me.”

“Yeah, well let’s see what the local sheriff has in his file.” Sam opened the manilla folder and started reading the case notes. I grabbed a menu scanning for lunch ideas.

In the corner of my vision I saw a small pair of cowboy boots covered in tight straight leg jeans. Forgetting the menu, I turned my attention to the jean covered thighs and tiny waist. A knotted flannel shirt rode right above the waist band and was filled nicely across the chest. A long elegant neck held a beautiful oval face with light brown eyes and light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. I watched as the full lips formed into a surprised “O” when our eyes met. An aluminum coffee carafe fell from her hands and crashed to the floor before the woman spun around and ran through the swinging saloon doors into the kitchen.

Sam’s head jerked up as I quickly stood and followed the woman. I looked left and right in between the stainless kitchen counter tops seeing the woman disappear into what had to be the back business office of the cafe. I knocked on the door before turning the knob and walking in without waiting for an invitation. She was leaning against an old metal desk with her arms wrapped protectively around her. She was shaking violently.

“Excuse me. Are you ok?” I asked softly.

She raised her face with a look of terror when she heard my voice. “What the hell are you doing in my coffee shop, Dean?” The anger was like a slap in the face which had me taking a quick step back especially since she knew my name.

“Do I know you?” Her flashing eyes and ramrod straight spine were indication that she was wound tight with strong emotions.

Blowing out a deep sigh she said, “I’m sorry. I was so shocked to see you here in Cheyenne. I didn’t ever expect to see you again.”

“Again? So we’ve have met?” She seemed to be getting a grip on herself so I took a cautious step towards her.

“You were in town for just a few hours 15 years ago, Dean.” I searched through memories and cases that far back trying to remember her. Oh Shit! A faint memory of taking a girl’s virginity in the back seat outside a bar crept in my brain. Oh damn! I guess she realized from the expression on my face that I remembered because she softly smiled. “My name is Rachel in case you don’t remember that.”

“Rachel. Of course I remember you.” I smiled sheepishly. “How have you been?” I said after a few awkward moments of staring at each other. “You look good.”

“So do you, Dean. Especially in a suit, although I did love the leather jacket.”

“Me too.” We both laughed at that. “So, you never left Cheyenne? I thought you were heading to college? If I remember right, you wanted to get out of this small town as soon as you could.” I watched emotions flow across her face: sadness, anger, and then fear. The fear didn’t make sense and made me suspicious.

“Uh….well…circumstances changed….things happened.”

“You still have a cute stutter when you are nervous.” I couldn’t help but notice that her cheeks were very red.

“Look, I need to clean up the mess I made with the coffee, so let me get you something for lunch and we can talk after closing?” She looked eager to talk so I immediately agreed to come back tonight. I held open the door for her to pass and I caught a whiff of honeysuckle and pecans. The scent immediately flooded my brain with memories of the sensations of stroking her smooth thighs and her lips beneath mine. I’ve had plenty of lovers and there was no reason this one would be remembered but there was something about Rachel’s innocence that night that haunted me. Her trust in me was such a foreign feeling and I was not sure how she did it but she was one of those good memories that were so rare for me.

Rachel walked back to the table where Sam was still sitting watching us approach with open curiosity. Picking up the coffee pot she took it back to the counter and started a fresh pot brewing after pouring the other down the sink. I sat back down across from Sam. “Ok, dude. What is going on?” He immediately asked.

“Later I’ll tell you everything after we eat.” I said as I tilted my head letting Sam know I didn’t want to talk in front of the other customers. Sam raised an eyebrow and then shrugged before picking up her menu.

Rachel came back towards our table with a small notebook. “What can I get you gentlemen?”

“How about a cheeseburger with curly fries. Someone also told me this place had the best pecan pie.” I smiled and winked.

Her smile lit up, “Who told you that?”

“The kid working the counter at the sheriff’s office.” Looking over at Sam, “Her name was Heather, right?”

“You…you met Heather?” She stuttered visibly turning pale.

“Yeah. She was a nice kid.” I said wondering what was wrong.

“Yes, she’s working during the summer for Sheriff Emerson.” Rachel gathered her emotions and turned to Sam to take his order of chef salad. She turned to the kitchen without another word.

“What the hell is going on, Dean?” Sam asked with exasperation.

“I’m not sure, Sam, but I’m going to find out.”

I didn’t see Rachel again during our lunch. Steph brought our plates and drinks. The pecan pie was really the best I ever had. The hours were posted on the glass door so I decided to get answers from Rachel at 8:00 tonight.

After lunch, Sam and I went back to the motel and changed out of the fed suits. I told Sam about meeting Rachel at the dance hall and thinking she was older than 18. I purposely left out that she had been a virgin but Sam guessed we’d made out. While Sam researched the town history and local unexplained events, I headed back to the coffee shop to get answers to questions rolling around in my head. I parallel parked Baby in front of the cafe and stood outside looking in through the front glass windows.

Rachel was sitting at the counter sipping from a tea cup. I watched her reach up and pull out the ponytail holder shaking out her long dark hair. The movement was so feminine and sexy causing a twist of desire in my groin. She looked deep in thought. The years since I knew the 18 year old girl had given her a wisdom and touch of sadness that I recognized in myself. She was more beautiful than I remembered. When I softly knocked on the door, Rachel gracefully slid off the counter stool and approached to unlock the door. I walked through and she relocked the glass door.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“I’d rather have a beer.” I gave her a grin. Rachel smiled and went into the kitchen returning with two bottles of Shiner Bock. Sitting at one of the small cafe tables, I lounged back while she nervously picked at the bottle label. “So, what made you stay in Cheyenne?” I broke the silence.

“To explain that is hard for me. I really never thought I would see you again. When you drove away that night, I didn’t even know your last name.” Rachel said. “I didn’t know anyway to contact you.” She looked down at her hands.

I took a drink from my beer mustering some courage to say, “I’m sorry about leaving like that. I was young and stupid.”

“No, Dean. There’s no reason for you to apologize. I don’t regret that night because…” Rachel stopped to take a deep swig before “…you gave me Heather that night.” Her words made no sense and I was confused trying to understand when she finished. “You met Heather. She’s your daughter.”

I sat stunned. My brain not accepting her words even with the truth shining in her eyes. “Son of a bitch!” I whispered still trying to understand the shift in my world that had happened. “I have a daughter?” I breathed in awe.

“Yes, Dean I got pregnant the night I lost my virginity to you.” Rachel said slowly.

“Shit! You mean I’ve been a father for 14 years?!” It was too much. I couldn’t process any of this. How the hell did this happen? Ok, I know HOW it happened but what am I supposed to do with it? “Does Heather know?”

“Yes, I have been totally honest with her. She knows her father’s name is Dean and that he was a one night stand when I was 18.” I couldn’t stop the wince of guilt that came over me. Rachel reached across the table and placed a hand over mine. “Dean, you have nothing to feel guilty about. Heather is my life and I love her so much. I can’t regret that night with you because you gave her to me.”

“I have a 14 year old daughter.” I repeated hoping my brain would start working again. I could see Heather’s sweet smile and her spunky attitude when I called her sweetheart. “Does she wonder about me? I mean does she ask questions?”

Rachel smiled. “Yes, she asks but I don’t have answers to most of the things she wants to know.”

“Should I….I mean, can I meet her?” I asked hesitantly.

Seriously Rachel said, “Let me ask Heather and see how she feels about meeting her father. Ok? It should be her choice.”

“Yeah, sure. Of course” I said quickly. Looking around I noticed softball team pictures on the wall next to some plaques announcing that the R&H Coffee House was a team sponsor. I couldn’t sit still anymore so I wandered over for a closer look. Rachel walked over to stand next to me looking at the pictures smiling.

“Heather is quite an athlete. She’s played softball since she could throw a ball and hold a bat. She even moved up into the travel league two years ago.” I could hear the pride in Rachel’s voice and felt a tug of pride too. “She plays third base and has a .347 batting average.”

“Awesome!” I spotted Heather kneeling in the front row in each picture. The oldest picture showed her in pigtails but I recognized her face right away. Her eyes were the same shape as mine and that self assured smirk was definitely Winchester.

“She’s an amazing young lady, Dean. Straight “A’s”, National Honor Society, and does UIL competitions in science, debate, and creative writing.”

“Wow! Sounds like you did a great job raising her.” I turned toward Rachel realizing she did this all by herself: had a kid, started her own business, and dealt with the small town bigotry of being a teenage mother.

“Thanks, I did my best. After I found out I was pregnant, I decided that going to college right then wasn’t possible. My parents were great. They supported my decision to keep the baby. When Heather started pre-school, I took college courses online. I have my MBA now and the coffee house supports us comfortably.”

Looking down my feelings of pride flowed towards Rachel too. This woman was so much more attractive than the girl she had been. I raised my hand and placed it on her shoulder feeling her strength. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

Smiling up at me with a mischievous look Rachel asked, “Can you tell me your last name now?”

“Winchester. Can you tell me yours?” I said teasing back.

“Remington.” For a shocked minute we just looked at each other before starting to laugh. The sudden release of tension had us laughing so hard Rachel moved into my arms clinging to my shirt. I felt her struggling to breathe and she actually snorted which made me laugh harder. Finally we eased up enough to take deep breaths. I looked down at the woman whose eyes were filled with happy tears. I couldn’t stop from leaning down to brush my lips across her soft mouth.

All of a sudden it was like a match to gasoline, the passion flamed up between us. I flexed pulling her body tight against mine and buried my hand in her hair to cradle the back of her head. Slanting my mouth I pressed into her mouth and my brain shut down. Her mouth tasted tangy of beer we had drunk and the sweet warmth that was uniquely Rachel. Before I realized it, I had her pressed against the counter top grinding against her. Taking a step back I watched Rachel struggle to catch her breath. “Sorry. I don’t know what that was.” I said dragging my hands through my hair.

“That’s called passion with a whole bunch of lust thrown in.”

Damn. Her sense of humor was hotter than anything I ever felt. She had everything that turned me on and it scared the hell out of me. Turning around I grabbed the beer and downed the contents instead of grabbing Rachel again like my dick was telling me to do.

“Dean, what are you doing in Cheyenne?” Rachel asked obviously recovering faster than me.

I didn’t know if I could lie to her or if the truth was going to destroy any chance I had of getting to know my daughter. Son of a bitch! I hate these moments of truth.

#fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester #dean daughter

[ecofinisher]

The Adventures of Super Nathan 3 - Chap 12

Chapter 12

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23301076/chapters/57344521

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13531960/12/The-Adventures-of-Super-Nathan-3

https://www.wattpad.com/873794538-the-adventures-of-super-nathan-3-chapter-12

At 2:35 am in the morning Nathaniel sat on the bed putting over himself a jacket, then looked back at Lila again, which sat beside him on the bed yawning.

“Are you sure you want Melon during this time?” Nathaniel asked. “I’m not sure if I can find anything at the store”

“But I’m starving, Nathy!” Lila complained followed by her kwami Trixx appear holding the ears with her paws to cover them, as she heard Lila’s complaint.

“There are no melons at this space of time” Trixx warned Lila, which crossed her arms annoyed at her kwami.

“I want melon” Lila ordered.

“I’m going to get the melon, don’t worry Lila” Nathaniel promised while putting his pants on.

“I and Karaa will bring you the best melon we can find”

“Why me?” Karaa asked bewildered at her owner’s comment.

“It’s in the middle of the night, most of the stores around us are closed and we have to look out of our arrondissement to spot at least a service area or a shop open for 24 hours.

“And where is one?” Trixx asked watching Nathaniel pick up his smartphone to spot the closest open shop.

“Near the airport” Nathaniel answered.

“We know the way there, we’ll be quick back”

“The question is if there will be melon,” Nathaniel said making Karaa giggle.

“Aw you kidding?”

“Y’all know I’m not falling asleep until my hunger got satisfied?” Lila warned glancing at her husband and his kwami

“We’re going to leave right now, pumpkin” Nathaniel mentioned returning to the bed. “Anything else babe?”

“Nope,” Lila responded earning a nod from the redhead.

“Karaa, Stripes on!” Nathaniel shouted transforming into Super Nathan, then opened the window of their bedroom, then added from his tablet his jetpack and took off in the air flying over the lightened up Paris approaching the A3, where he spotted fewer cars driving on the highway.

Super Nathan flew down closer to the highway staying away for about 5 feet away from the ground to observe the shields he would pass by soon. Super Nathan spotted a shield with four different gas stations with different prices and two of them were open for 24 hours. Super Nathaniel smiled and followed the street.

Later Super Nathan landed near the building of the gas station and spotted only the cashier and a dark-skinned man carrying a package of milk. Super Nathan entered into the store passing by the man, which widened his eyes in surprise.

“Good evening Super Nathan” The man greeted excited at the sight of the superhero.

“Hi random citizen” Super Nathan greeted surprised at the man contacting him immediately. “How are you?”

“Good” The man answered. “We got no milk at home for our little girl and I had to go get some”

“That’s sweet” Super Nathan answered. “I’m sort of here for the same situation, except it is for my wife, which is pregnant and kind of…..needed it. My friends say it’s normal, they’re experiencing the same thing”

“It will get better with the time. Your wife is having a hard time you know. You just have to be there for her as much as you can”

“Sure, does anyone of your family want an autograph or something?”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a selfie” The man pointed out earning a nod from the redhead, then the man took his smartphone out and posed together with Super Nathan for the selfie.

“Selfie!”

“Looks great, thank you Super Nathan” The man thanked earning a smile from the purple-skinned man.

“No problem. Have a nice night and drive carefully” Super Nathan warned in an educated manner watching the man leave, then Super Nathan walked to the end of the store to the fruit section to spot at the end of the corridor Luka Couffaine fill a bag with tangerines. Super Nathan walked down the aisle, then Luka spotted him and waved at the superhero.

“What a surprise” Luka began. “What brings you here?” Luka said jokingly making Super Nathan fake a laughter.

“Very funny. Lila got the appetite for melons” Answered the art-themed superhero. “What about Marinette?”

“Tangerines” Luka answered. “Also we need birthday candles for the bakery and now that I’m here I could take them”

“Right, you haven’t seen any melons here?” Super Nathan asked making Luka shake his head.

“I saw the yellow ones only. Are they the ones you want?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask Lila”

“I’ll call her if you want” Luka suggested picking up his smartphone making a video call, which Lila attended.

“Where’s my melon?” Lila answered making Luka smirk.

“Nathaniel told me to ask you if you wanted the yellow melons” Announced the raven-haired man.

“They are the best! Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” Lila chanted making Luka wide his eyes in surprise at Lila’s reaction.

“I suggest you take two melons” Luka whispered to Super Nathan, which nodded.

“Thank Lila, I’ll be taking them,” Super Nathan answered earning a nod from his wife, then Luka turned the video call of.

“There you go”

“Thanks Luka, you’re the best”

“No problem, anything more for you?”

“No, I’ve got everything, thank you” Super Nathan answered.

“Well, I’m going to continue. I might buy myself a coffee, I’ll have to start to work in about two hours”

“Oh I couldn’t live like that”

“Stop complaining pretty boy or you end having to leave the house every night”

“Right….” Super Nathan answered smiling abashedly. “And who knows, if it’s going to be that way”

“Just don’t worry, everything will be fine in the end and if you need someone to talk with. I’m here”

“Thanks Luka” Super Nathan said walking down to the cashier to pay the melons, then walked out on the streets and felt down on the ground causing the melons to fly over the place, shrieking Super Nathan, which jumped up in the air to catch one of the melons landing on his feet, followed by the second melon landing behind him, followed by a strange screaming sound, which shocked Super Nathan.

“Oh my gosh!” Super Nathan jumped while embracing the melon and he looked back on the floor to see down on the floor a black kitten with a white belly, white front paws and a white stripe on its chin crying as it had the tail under the half-broken melon.

Super Nathan noticed the sad kitten and pushed the melon away from its tail, then saw the kitten ran away against the door but crashed as it didn’t open for it, then Super Nathan lied down on his belly blocking with his arms for the cat the exit to both sides, watching it sit there in sadness.

“What’s going on little guy?” Super Nathan asked. “Did I break your tail?” Super Nathan asked slowly tapping with his finger on the kitten’s tail, making it whine.

“Meow!” The cat hissed shrieking Super Nathan, then he grabbed the kitten under its belly, then widened his eyes and noticed on his hand a fluid coming out from under the cat making Super Nathan groan.

“Did it really have to be my hand?” Super Nathan asked noticing the kitten frightened about him. Super Nathan dropped his annoyment noticing the kitten was feeling bad and patted him on his back with his index finger. “Where are your parents?” The hero asked watching the kitten still shivering. Super Nathan looked into the store, where there was a digital clock, showing the time and he gazed back at the kitten. “Look I’m going to take you to a vet hospital, they will help you out and I will pay for everything you need, my…..” Super Nathan spoke lifting the kitten up to see his gender. “little guy” Super Nathan leaned the kitten closer to his face, listening to it whining, which made him sadder. “Okay little buddy, let’s get out of here,” Super Nathan said starting his jetpack to take up in the air.

Kagami went in the afternoon to the doctor and sat in the bureau of the doctor, which was an older, experienced woman around the 50th.

“Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Lefebre. I’m attending you today, since your house doctor Dr. Bennet is off today”

“Good evening” Kagami greeted shaking the hand of the woman.

“So, you’ve told Dr. Bennet, you were nauseous the past few weeks, right?” The doctor asked earning a nod from Kagami. “Anything else appeared during these weeks?”

“Well like I told him, I’ve been feeling sad lately for no reason. I’ve felt my abdomen hurt as if I was going to have my period. This month my period only lasted for a day, which I felt strange, cause it usually takes around five to six days, it variates,” The Japanese woman explained as the doctor listened to her.

“And the other time you had the period, how long did it take?”

“I think 5 days” Kagami answered. “It’s always regularly, it can happen, that it delays for a few days”

“Do you take pills?”

“No”

“When was your last intercourse?” The doctor asked, watching Kagami think for a bit.

“Uhm I think it was three weeks ago” Kagami answered.

“Did you or your partner use protection?” The doctor asked earning a nod from the woman. “Was there a time you two didn’t use protection?”

“Well….. our first time we had almost two months ago” Kagami answered. “There we didn’t use protection, because I had at that time the period and I read that during the period you can’t get pregnant”

“Many women have read this at school books or anywhere else, but I need to warn you, that a period doesn’t prevent pregnancy to 100%. There’s still a chance for you to get pregnant that way,” “Okay,” Kagami answered unsurely. “I wasn’t aware of this”

“And was that time the only time you didn’t use protection?” The doctor asked earning a nod from the blue-haired woman. “I have an idea, what your symptoms could be telling me, please follow me,” The doctor asked walking Kagami out of her bureau along the corridor to another room, where it contained a bed and other medical utilities and Kagami sat down on the bed followed by the doctor, who sat in front of the woman on a chair.

“Please lie down” The doctor ordered watching Kagami lie down, then the woman pulled up from the patient her blouse up to uncover her stomach noticing her light sixpack a little inflated. The doctor put over her belly a transparent gel and took the ultrasonic transducer to scan her on the belly as she watched along with the blue-haired woman the monitor showing gray cloud-like shapes.

Kagami took a deep and silent breath during the examination, then noticed the doctor smile a little.

“I know being alone here isn’t quite exciting, but there’s no need to feel nervous” Dr. Lefebre assured earning a nod from the Japanese woman.

“Sure” Kagami responded looking at the dark screen, then the doctor encountered a large black space with a bean-like white form on it and a very thin line passing from the white form to the side of the large form. “So Miss Tsurugi, the reason you’ve been feeling down lately has a good reason” The doctor began. “You’re expecting your first child” The woman answered.

“You’re telling me, I’m pregnant?” Kagami asked surprised.

“Yes,” The doctor answered noticing Kagami wasn’t as quite excited as to be expected. “I see, that this wasn’t part of your plan, for now, right?”

“We’re both in the university. I’m in the university, how am I going to handle this?”

“The best thing for you to do, is to talk with your boyfriend about it to see, what solution is the best for the two of you,” Suggested Dr. Lefebre. “You two will for sure find a good solution”

“We’re two years away from the finals and we can’t just give it up like that”

“You two have a few weeks in front of you to decide if you want to move on with the pregnancy or not. Mainly you, but you have friends and family members you could talk with or specialists”

“You’re the doctor. What is the best choice for me to do?” Kagami asked a little worried watching the doctor shake her head.

“I can’t give you my own opinion about this,” The doctor mentioned. “This should be defined between you and your boyfriend, but remember you’re the one to have the last word. It’s your body, after all,” The woman warned earning a nod from Kagami, which thought about the current situation.

  Adrien sat in the dining room along with Jin and Jara studying together.

“When you said his house was big I didn’t think it would be this…..big” Jara stated looking around the room. “With only the three of us here, it feels empty”

“I had many lunches or dinners here all by myself. Even on my birthday” Adrien mentioned neutral thinking about the past when his mother was gone and his father was always busy.

“I couldn’t imagine live alone in such a big house”

“Neither would I” Jin agreed. “I’m fine already with the apartment I’ve got”

“How did Kagami feel, when she first started to live with you here?” Jara asked the blonde man.

“I think she felt okay. She already got used to school on how our dinner tables are, the outside world. Besides her family is rich too, she was more or less used to live on a larger space back in Japan” “Must have been hard for her to get used to it?” Jara said seeing Adrien shrug his shoulders.

“I haven’t actually questioned her about it” “Oh okay,” Jara answered, then behind the trio the door opened up and the house assistant Maria showed up noticing the students learning.

“Can I offer you and your friends a coffee or something to eat?” Maria asked Adrien, which looked at his friends.

“It’s better, it helps us with learning?” Jin answered looking at Adrien and Jara.

“Sure” Both answered.

“What could help us better with the learning?” Jara questioned the assistant.

“The best we have to offer in a few minutes is muesli with fruit,” Maria suggested. “And drinking enough water will keep your brain fit” Maria mentioned, then noticed Jin picking his water bottle again finishing it.

“Wow, did you drink that whole bottle in one hour?” Jara asked surprised.

“Yeah” Jin answered. “And I need to go” Jin added placing his arms between his legs under the table.

“Go ahead” Adrien answered, watching the raven-haired boy get up, leaving the dining room.

“Will the muesli be good for you three and a water jug?” Maria questioned earning a nod from Adrien.

“Yes, thank you, Maria” Adrien answered watching the assistant leaving the room to get the snacks.

“She seems nice,” Jara said.

“She is” Adrien answered. “I still feel bad about everything that happened to our former assistant Nathalie thought,”

“Oh yeah, I heard the story” Jara mentioned. “But it’s still an amazing thing she did, giving up her life to save Cat Noir. Even though she didn’t know him”

“They actually knew each other”

“Oh really?” Jara began. “Did you know him too?” Jara questioned the blonde, which shut his eyes in shock as he said that.

The bell of the house rang and Adrien got up from the chair sighing relieved at something interrupting their conversation.

“I’m going!” Adrien shouted, then left the dining room leaving Jara back confused.

Adrien opened the door to encounter Nathaniel holding in his arms a black kitten in his arms with a gypsum around his hind leg.

“Oh, who’s that?” Adrien asked looking down at the kitten, followed by Plagg getting out of his jacket.

“Are you gonna replace me with that?!?” Plagg shouted shrieking Adrien at his reaction.

“No! I don’t even know this kitten exists” Adrien complained at his kwami, which laughed at Adrien’s reaction. “Plagg, seriously?”

“Just kidding, just wanted to annoy you,” Plagg told the blonde, which looked back at Nathaniel.

“Whose cat is it?” Adrien asked watching the boy shrug his shoulders.

“I found it on the streets and brought it to the vet because it was injured,” Nathaniel answered. ���But we can’t keep it, cause Lila got allergic to him and I feel bad in bringing him into an animal shelter,”

“Okay and you want us to keep it?” Adrien questioned the redhead.

“If you want to” Added Nathaniel. “I could also ask Rose. She adores any kind of animal”

“I don’t think this would be a problem” Adrien responded. “No one of us is allergic to cats and Hope probably would enjoy it to spend time with him,” Adrien said tickling the kitten on the nose, then Adrien carefully grabbed the kitten and held him closer to his chest.

“Have you got any special name for the cat?” Adrien asked seeing Nathaniel shrug his shoulders.

“Nope”

“Well, we gotta wait to decide that later little guy” Adrien said caressing the kitten on his head.

“Yeah and do yourself a favor and don’t call him Plagg,” Plagg told his owner.

“Why not?” Adrien asked. “I would love to do a homage to you”

“That’s not necessary,” Plagg mentioned earning a nod from the blonde.

“Okay, we got time to get him a name,” Adrien said stepping back into the mansion. “I think we could get him something to eat from the kitchen,”

“Good, cause I’m not going to share my Camembert with him” Plagg warned the cat miraculous holder, which snickered at his kwami’s comment.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think cheese is something a kitten like him would need right now” Replied the Frenchman entering into the kitchen of the house along with his kwami and Nathaniel.

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