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brokeitwiththepowerofmathamatics · 1 year

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Holiday Truce Fanfic - Pharaoh of the Kitchen

This is a gift fic for @mostlikelynothuman this isn’t what I usually write but I hope you like it!

Pharaoh of the Kitchen (Ao3)

Tucker might not be the most popular guy around, but that's a very different story compared to when he's in the kitchen.

Tucker usually didn’t feel like a king. He, along with his two best friends, were not in the popular crowd. Unlike his previous incarnation, he didn’t have dozens of people waiting on him, nor legions of devoted subjects desperate for his attention. Even when it came to tech, he didn’t feel like a king. That was more like being a kid in a candy store.

But here, in this place, he wasn’t just a king.

He was a god.

Tucker wrapped the apron around himself and tied it behind his back before reaching for the pans and placing them on the stove. He was careful not to make too much noise. Sam was a creature of the night, not a morning person, and Danny needed as much sleep as he could possibly get.

Jazz walked into the kitchen, pausing as she passed through the threshold. “Oh, Tucker, you’re up?”

Tucker winced at the volume of her voice. “Yup!” Tucker responded, making a point to whisper and pointing at the stovetop. “Working on breakfast before everyone wakes up.”

Jazz hesitated, looking between the fridge and the cupboard where the cereal boxes were. She smiled hesitantly at Tucker before lowering her voice as well. “Any chance I could ask you to make enough for me, too?”

Tucker pointed at the drawer that every kitchen winds up with eventually, the junk drawer, and said, “If you’re cool with making sure the sausages and bacon don’t come alive again, then sure!” She didn’t need to know that he always planned on making enough for everyone. With meat that could potentially bite back, he needed all the help he could get.

A god never shares everything he knows, after all.

Jazz smiled and made her way over to the drawer. She tended to act more mature than her age, but Tucker could see that she was moving a bit faster than usual in her excitement, a more childish swing in her step.

Everyone in the Fenton family knew he was a damn good cook, especially when it came to breakfast meats.

Once there, she pulled out an ecto-pistol from underneath a pile of tangled string, loose scissors, and a jar of dubious green fluid. Every house may have a junk drawer, but only the Fentons would keep theirs stocked with anti-ecto weaponry. Jazz flicked the power on, and the weapon began to let out a hum.

Tucker stopped and looked back. “Keep the power down,” he ordered, “Don’t want to wake up Sam or Danny.”

Jazz rolled her eyes and let out a sigh, sounding more put out than she actually was. She twisted a dial on the side of the gun, and the hum stopped ringing out. She then made her way across the kitchen and opened the fridge door before actually putting her finger on the trigger.

And proceeded to fire three shots.

“We really need to fix that ecto-contamination problem…” Jazz muttered before letting out an undignified squawk and then firing another shot. She shot Tucker a glare, “Wouldn’t have needed to do that if I kept the gun on full power.”

Tucker held out a hand and made gimme motions. “Yeah, well, you’re the one saying Danny needs to get a better sleep schedule.”

Jazz huffed and pulled out the now, once again, dead sausages, along with the other various breakfast packages left with them, like the thankfully normal bacon, and handed them over to Tucker before shutting the door. “And you’re the one who asked for my help. Is that all you needed?”

“Can you hand me the almond milk too?”

Jazz hesitated at that, glancing over at Tucker, taken aback at him requesting the vegan option, but went back into the fridge and got what he requested. He measured out a cup and put it on the counter. “Mind putting the carton on the table, and then getting started on coffee?”

“At this point, I’ll be making the entire meal,” Jazz complained but obliged. “Danny’s coffee? The hyper-caffeinated stuff? Or the family’s?”

“Well, it’s for Sam so…”

“That doesn’t answer it as well as you think it does, but I want coffee too.” Jazz said, laughing. She moved around him to get the coffee.

Tucker hummed and went back to his task at hand. It wasn’t long until the kitchen began to come alive (and for once, not because of ghosts) with the sound of bacon sizzling and the coffee dripper running.

“Ah, the smell of roasting dead flesh in the morning,” Sam said sardonically, wandering in. She was still wearing her PJs, thick cotton pants, and a threadbare sweater. She shuffled over to the kitchen table and slid into a chair, and groaned as she laid her head out on the table.

“You’re up early,” Jazz acknowledged.

“You left the blinds open in your room,” Sam groaned. “Jazz, why did you leave the blinds open? If I had known you were going to do that, I would have put up with Danny and Tucker’s snoring!"

Tucker scoffed. “You can sleep through ghost attacks, but not Danny’s snoring?”

Sam turned and fixed Tucker with a glare that made him fear he was about to get added to her body count, along with Danny. “His snoring? Yes. Yours? No.”

“Oh, I left them open? My mistake,” Jazz said brightly, her apology not at all convincing. “Well, it’s good you’re moving toward a normal sleep schedule.”

“I am a creature of the night. I don’t do mornings.” Sam sighed and started moving to get up.

“Don’t bother,” Tucker interrupted her, moving to get a mug out of the cupboard. He poured her a cup of coffee and put it in front of her. “Here you go, coffee as black as your soul.”

Jazz smirked and shook her head, standing up. “I’m grabbing the newspaper,” she announced.

Sam hesitated. “Is this Danny’s coffee or…”

“No, it’s the family’s coffee,” Jazz said, shaking her head.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief and then took a sip of the coffee before letting out a contented sigh.

After she left, and when Sam knew Tucker wasn’t going to turn around, Sam reached for the open carton of almond milk and poured a dash into her coffee and then another. She took another sip and then smiled before looking up.

“You know that a lot of those processed meats can cause cancer, right?” Sam snipped from the table.

Tucker laughed. “Well, I’m here for a good time, not for a long time.” He knew she had a few more off-handed comments to make before it was out of her system.

“Too early for me to break up this argument again,” a voice cut in. Both Tucker and Sam turned to see Danny stumbling into the kitchen. He floated, quite literally as his feet were about a half inch above the ground, to the cabinet and pulled out a chipped mug with a fading NASA logo stamped on it before making his way to the coffee machine.

He poured himself a mug and then took a sip. He narrowed his eyes and looked down at the mug in disgust. “This isn’t my coffee, is it?”

“Nope,” Was the reply from Sam and Tucker in stereo.

“Rude…” Danny muttered, sitting down at the table.

“Danny…” Sam began, “Tucker made everyone coffee. You’re being rude.”

Danny’s sleepy face scrunched up as if to argue before relaxing, seeming to realize his error. "It’s not my coffee…" Danny grumbled under his breath.

Tucker rolled his eyes and pushed Danny to the table and out of his way. "Sit down and drink the weak coffee. We can make your pot when this one finishes."

"'kay…" Danny muttered, sitting at the table. He yawned and tried covering his mouth, though he couldn't quite hide it with the way it stretched unnaturally.

Sam glanced up at Tucker with a frown before looking at Danny. "You okay there?"

Danny shook his head. "Just really tired. Box Ghost was being a bigger annoyance than normal. I shoved him back into the ghost zone twice while you two were asleep."

Jazz walked into the kitchen holding a newspaper and her laptop. At the mention of the Box Ghost, she looked back to the foyer and up the stairs toward their parents’ rooms to ensure that they were still asleep. After seemingly being satisfied with the lack of motion upstairs, she opened the newspaper and handed Danny the comic section. "Just twice? I thought I heard you moving around more than that."

Danny shrugged with a small smile. "Third time, I left him in the thermos." He sipped the coffee and sighed wistfully.

Tucker rolled his eyes and grabbed a couple of thermoses from one of the cupboards and poured the remains of the coffee pot into the two of them. He then reached in the back of the cupboard, past the teas and the large Folgers coffee can to find a small 1-pound bag of coffee in a black bag with a strip of masking tape on it, with “Danny’s. DO NOT DRINK” written on it in sharpie.

Tucker measured out several teaspoons and put it in the coffee maker. He didn’t have time to start it before he had to jump back over to the stove to flip the pancakes. He then jumped into the cupboard and grabbed the rosemary that Maddie kept near the front. It was a little old, and back from her experiments of trying to figure out a ghost poison. She had read the stories from Jack Fentonightingale’s diary that it was supposed to calm and relax spirits, and she assumed it was a poison.

It wasn’t poison, and it did relax the ghosts as Fentonightingale said, but she and Jack believed it was a trick and so she wrote the experiment off as a failure.

But it turned out Danny loved the stuff (for obvious reasons), so she kept the stuff around. He sprinkled some of that into the coffee grounds before starting to brew Danny his own coffee.

It didn’t take long before Danny started to sit up. He sniffed the air, trying to catch what exactly had changed, but using his human senses didn’t help him identify the change in the room at all. His tongue ran over his lips and then muttered. “Tucker… what are you cooking?”

“Breakfast,” Tucker said, plating a bunch of bacon and pulling a couple of pancakes out of a pan. He put them in front of Danny, which caused Jazz to perk up and put away the newspaper. He turned back to the coffee dripper, which had just finished outputting the over-caffeinated coffee. He poured a mug of it and then put it and the pot next to Danny. “Here you go, for I am a generous god.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “If he thinks making us breakfast makes him a god…”

Danny cut Sam off with a cackle and grabbed the mug. “Oh, thank goodness! The stuff you drink is so weak.” He took a sip and let out a happy sigh before pausing and tilting his head.

Tucker filled up another plate, but this time he placed it right in front of Sam. Sam blinked a couple of times, staring down at the plate in front of her, completely uncomprehending what she was seeing. She growled and glared at Tucker. “Tucker, you know I’m vegan.”

Tucker tilted his head. He could take the high road, but Sam literally had walked into his domain and started giving him crap about his eating habits. So instead, he just smirked and said, “I know.”

In retrospect, the smugness he put into that was probably not a good idea. Sam folded her arms and snapped. “Tucker, is it really that hard to respect me? I mean, come on!”

Tucker held up a finger. “I mean, I could say the same thing. After all, you were very happy to tell me that I’m gonna die of a cancer this morning.”

Sam blushed in anger, but before she could say anything, Danny slammed his hands down on the table. “Hey! No fighting this morning!”

Sam and Tucker both jumped as Jazz put a hand on Danny's shoulder. Tucker chewed on his lip as Danny rubbed his face. “Seriously, guys… how many times have we been over this? I’m so tired. Play nice, okay?”

“Sorry, Danny,” Tucker apologized immediately. He held up a hand to cut off anything that Sam would have said. “That’s my bad. Sam wasn’t being mean earlier. I escalated.” He shrugged and pointed at the food in front of Sam. “Also, that’s all vegan.”

Sam blinked and looked down at the food. “Seriously? You can cook vegan?”

Tucker chuckled. “I mean, it’s not that hard. The sausages are just prepackaged things anyways.”

Sam pointed past Tucker at the stovetop. “Yeah, sure, those are, but I saw you make the pancakes from scratch.”

Tucker smirked. “Well, yeah. But I am a man, and that means I can provide for my family! Be that bringing home the bacon or cooking the food my food eats, either way, I can do it!”

Sam groaned. “Oh great, now you’re spewing internalized societal expectations… want me to go gather berries and raise some babies while we’re at it?”

“Wait…” Danny interrupted. He pointed at Tucker and narrowed his eyes. “You think of us as your family?”

Tucker felt his own cheeks heat up in a blush. “I mean.. Yeah? You’re my bro, bro. And Sam’s the annoying sister.”

Jazz raised her hand to get his attention before pointing at herself. “What about me?”

Tucker scoffed. “You're the sister of my bro. You're my sister too, by transitive properties.”

“Awwww….” Jazz said, quickly moving around the table. “Come here, my little bro,” she said, the word sounding clumsy and unpracticed. “Let me give you a hug!”

Tucker jumped away from her reaching arms. “Nuh-uh! I am not a hugger!” He couldn’t help but laugh as he wielded his spatula as a defensive weapon. “I should never have upgraded you all from subjects to family!”

Sam groaned and rolled her eyes. “We never should have gone to that stupid museum…” She stabbed into one of the pancakes Tucker popped it into her mouth. “Wow… this is really good.”

Tucker ducked under Jazz’s arms and shoved a thumb into his chest. “Of course it is! I cooked it!” Before he let out a shriek (or manly yell if you asked him) as Jazz attempted to take advantage of his distracted state to ensnare him in a hug.

Jazz laughed as she continued to encircle Tucker. “Yes, yes, we know you cooked, and we love you soooooooo much for it!”

Danny laughed as his sister continued to fight to give her newly claimed brother attention. He sat down and went back to drinking his coffee. Sam looked at his empty plate and then at him. She raised an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna eat?”

Danny’s eyes flashed glowing green for a second, and he smiled softly. “You know ghosts can feed off emotion… There’s enough…” he paused and chewed on his lip as he tried to think of how to describe it in words. He sighed and gave up, “joy, happiness, family, safety here…” He said, just throwing several feelings in as one mishmash soup and hoping to get his point across. He waved his hand about the room as he settled in his seat.

“I’m full.”

#holiday truce #danny phantom #dp fic #Danny Fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton

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manonamora-if · 2 years

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A bit late since we are well into September already (I forgot it in my drafts...), but here is hopefully the release schedule of my ongoing projects.

Below the cut for further notes/explanation.

September

This month is just for finishing my IF Comp entry. As of today, there are about 2 weeks for me to finish and submit it. While the "public" (on itch) version won't be able until November, you can always play it (and be a judge! * ) during the judging period.

I'll be probably sleeping for like 2 days after that.

October

Whatever extra writing from MelS I get to (re-)code during that month, TTATEH will be released in October just in time for Halloween. It will most likely be only a partial demo (Prologue to Chapter 2) since MelS is busy again.

I will also add 3 more rounds to Exquisite Cadaver. I just need to write the endings for each round and code them. Expect the update in the first half of October.

I got a few issues with the MtP code raised, so I'm going to fix that (and add the new intro animation too... :P).

AND I WILL START WRITING CRWL AGAIN :D

November

If the writing goes well during October, the new Scene may get into Beta the second half of November.

During testing, I will try to add 3 more rounds of Exquisite Cadaver and pop out the sci-fi template that has been haunting me since last month :P

And The Thick Table Tavern will be released on Itch.

December

If the Beta gives me the green light, Scene 5 may be online by December (I would want it to be before the Holidays if I can manage).

And that month again, another 3 rounds for Exquisite Cadaver (which will make 18 total online).

I will probably post another Yearly (very long) Wrap up as well.

2023 Expectations

Like I have this year, I expect a lot of myself next year. I would want to complete Exquisite Cadaver (which should be doable in a rate of 3 rounds/months) and The Thick Table Tavern (I won't be able to add all NPCs I want). I also would love to finally resume working on SPS Iron Hammer and give it the ending(s) it deserves.

While it may be possible, I would want to close Act 1 of Crimson Rose & White Lily next year and start its next chapter. Depending on how busy I get, it could potentially be doable?

I've also been enjoying creating a bunch of templates and learning more on how to code with CSS/HTML. So my hope for 2023 is continue release templates. And maybe learning more JScript to make them more interactive... MAYBE.

Aside, from ALL OF THIS, I would want to participate in more competitions/jams. I've been learning a whole lot by creating smaller projects and they have really be helping my push myself to become a better creator. But that comes with a big caveat of: If I actually have time/the bandwith.

Notes

Of course, the schedule above is a rough guideline. Life may get in the way and make some release impossible. I still hope to achieve this, tho :P

*Please consider checking out and rating at least 5 other entries if you want to judge the competition so your review will be taken into account.

#schedule #projects #update

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baniigattsuu · 1 month

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i swear... whoever's praying on my downfall, congrats. its working. i told myself that this year would be my year. it took me years of thinking and planning, contemplating my true passion and purpose in life. and now that i finally found it, i've become SOOOO lazy. i understand that i'm still really young, have plenty of time, and yet have my whole life ahead of me, but what i truly realized, is that RIGHT NOW, is the EXACT moment in my life when i should be working towards my future, studying what i love, and putting in all the consistent effort to be the best version of myself. yET STILL... i sit around, lay in bed, avoid chores and responsibilities, waste my time and potential doing absolutely fuck all, playing computer games or watching youtube. i stay up late every night, my mind is the most active in the late hours, so i have the most motivation and ideas at night. but if i were to actually work at night, i'd lose my energy and prolly fall asleep on my desk. at those times, i always say "i'm gonna wake up tomoro with so much inspiration and determination and work for hours and hours until the sun sets!!!!" yeah shut the fuck up satsu we both you know you ain't gonna do that. you all know you don't do that. we all know you sit on your ass and complain about not getting much attention online when you don't even bother to put the attempts into your creativity. and the craziest thing is that i always have so much free time. i'm literally rarely ever busy, so i have ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD to focus on what i love most and what i aspire to do as an adult. but my sleeping habits and lack of motivation are what's stopping me. i usually wouldn't call myself a creative person, but i know if i have enough inspiration i could create a good thing or two, yet, all i do, all day everyday, is watch youtube, play games, and sit around eating junk. i should be fixing my diet. fixing my sleep schedule. going to the gym. cleaning my room more. studying online (i have a huge playlist on youtube filled with reliable sources of information based on things i love most and wanna study), self-teaching myself skills i would like to have, and aCTUALLY HAVING THE STIMULUS TO DO SIMPLE BASIC THINGS. YET HERE I AM WAKING UP AT 1PM AND STRUGGLING TO PUT 3 PIECES OF CLOTHING AWAY. most actors, singers, creators.. etc, start as teens. start young. so thats what i should be doing right now. this is my prep time. this is my chance. i have so much potential, so much power, so much time, so much possibilities. this is as good as it gets. i need to prepare to be fully educated on everything i need as an adult. cuz i know damn well that time sprints ahead of you in just a few blinks. but, at the same time, i do have mental differences. i have psychological issues i've struggled with since a young age, which it makes it a lot harder for me to get things done, so i sympathize and forgive myself for all that. but the thing is, as of late, all that shit has been getting better. right now, i'm not necessarily anxious or stressed about one specific thing, therefore, i have nothing much relating to cognition that is stopping me from functioning. and i also understand how comforting it can be do to specific things on the internet, like re-discovering favourite nostalgic music and youtubers you loved as a kid (what i've done recently), but that should be a REWARD. that should be something i get at the end, when i've finished a good bit of my achievements. like a prize i get for a job well done....

#audhd #work problems #motivating myself #life purpose

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shawdzilla · 10 months

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Oops I always forget to post on this but it’s probably better if I take time between posts so I can acc post more stuff. Ok so what has even happened in the last 8 days. Wow I’m sitting here and there is quite literally nothing coming to me. I guess there hasn’t been much going on tbh. My sleep schedule is absolutely ruined but maybe I’ll fix it tn(definitely won’t). I saw that new Jlaw movie which was cute but she was kind of a loser ass bitch in it which disappointed me. I also watched rango last night and wow that movie was so amazing. Like yeah it’s literally a kids cartoon movie and I’m sure it’s not that deep but the overarching theme of “who are you?” did strike me a bit. I feel kind of in that place right now. I’m out in the Wild West don’t really know who I am or what I’m doing, I’m just coasting. I’m moving in like 5 days now and I don’t know who I’m going to be when I move. There is always so much potential for reinvention when no one knows the past iterations which is exciting but scary. Is it over thinking to perceive new interactions like that. Like yes I’m blank and I know who I am but I don’t know I am perceived at all and how people sees me and that’s wild to me. I over analyze tf out of other people and how they act, what makes them act like that, and their lives choices ideas etc. do people think about me like that? I wouldn’t mind if they did I’m not insecure it’s more so how do they see me. Who am I to them, what do they think about my life and where I’ve gotten, and how I’ve gotten there. I guess that’s what therapy and shit like that is, but I wish I could just know what complete strangers ideas of me are after say just one interaction.

But the move is in 5 days, I wanna get another cat, and I still haven’t even processed the fact that I’m moving out tmr that’s crazy to me.

Sotw:

#Spotify

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madelineariah · 1 year

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2023/April 14th - Creative

I have been a bit exhausted the last few days.

My sleep schedule got kinda messed up, though this is not entirely out of character for me when I get fixated on a new idea. I decided about a week or two ago that I would try to revitalize my interest in video production. I probably should preface this by saying that I tried running a YouTube channel back in 2020. Probably not the best time to get into it, but it was what it was.

When I did it, I was narrating some of the novels that I have written over the years. Writing is my passion, yet it’s not a compatible medium with many of the passions and interests of most people these days. People want interactive media – it’s why they turn to visual novels or YouTube videos or games to get their reading in.

The videos I made honestly never really felt like they were at their fullest potential. It felt like I didn’t have the proper tools to bring my words to life, and I became very frustrated by the outcome. While I reached 60 subscribers during that time period, I eventually became so bothered by the quality of my own content that I deleted all of it from existence and put the channel on hiatus.

Recently, though, I have had a change of direction in my life. I decided that because racing videogames have been a lifelong hobby of mine, I would like to do highlight videos surrounding my favorite racing games. As such, I’ve spent the last several days prepping videos for a May 1st debut. I have about seven completed already.

What I’ve noticed so far is that because I have better equipment now, that alone has given me more confidence in my abilities. In 2020, I was video editing on a Chromebook (which many of you might not think possible, but I assure you, it is). The videos were serviceable, but they lacked the kind of professional quality that I wanted of them.

Now, though, I have an enterprise-level Windows desktop with an enterprise-level GPU that I was using for CAD applications during my last round of college (see my post about going to college three damn times).

Since my drafting stuff is currently on hiatus, I figure that I should probably get my money’s worth from the machine, and it turns out that it can encode a 10 minute 720p video in about 45 seconds. Not bad. As far as the games, I am recording them on an Xbox One X which I have calibrated to record in 720p because Xbox DVR requires your clips be processed over the cloud, and my internet – while good in terms of download speed – is terrible at upload speed.

I learned recently that Xbox DVR files corrupt very easily. Audio sync issues are also very common. So… Not the best start.

Nonetheless, I do feel like the way I have things set up lends itself to my style of video production. What I’m doing is recording individual races and events in-game and then creating highlight reels from them. Some of these highlight videos have a story to them, even.

The audio sync is easy enough to fix using the video editing software. That said, I have lost a handful of good clips due to file corruption – which led to much sulking.

To prevent myself from going insane, I’m probably only gonna upload twice a week – Monday and Thursday. This gives me 2-3 days between videos to work on each one. So far, I’ve noticed it takes approximately 90 minutes to encode enough clips for a 10 minute video, and then editing takes two to four hours depending on storyboarding, effects used, and also needing to create the thumbnails for each video.

And of course, my videos are going to have overlays that show my channel name and eventually things like a Twitter link, Ko-Fi link, etc. If I ever decide to stream, those same overlays could be used to show stream-related info (I think that’s how it works). But getting that sophisticated is gonna take time, I guess.

For the first month, I figure I will use a compact overlay (just a banner, really). Then after, I will make a full-screen overlay in 1080p with the 720p gameplay footage in windowed mode. That’s the plan, anyway. There’s still so much I need to figure out, and I am doing all of this myself.

I would say that my goal is simply to attract people who love the same things I love and who I can share memories with. Like, as a gamer, I often play alone. I don’t really have “gaming friends.” I’d like that to change.

#journal #diary entry

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thinkpink212 · 1 year

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I live away from family too! Gosh, its been so hard, and with little to no friends I feel like I am loosing it! Any advice on how to deal and stuff? <3

Aww boo I hear you!

Keep in touch, but not too much Knowing how your loved ones are and communicating how you are, seem to always help me a great deal. But remember that a little distance is good when its healthy distance. What I mean is, make sure you are still doing your thing; working, cultivating your hobbies, staying on top of chores etc. Keep in touch with your family and friends, but also keep busy so that your mind doesn't constantly fixate on their absence. What ill do... ♡ Facetime my fav cousin from time to time. ♡ Call (or voice message) with my mom whenever were free ♡ Evening and morning texts with my closest friend (and try not to reply in the middle of the day unless it is urgent or I truly have time) ♡ Schedule meetups/trips in advance, especially with friends! Now a month like May is a little more special because you get to see your people for a few days! ♡ Randomly messaging "Hi, how are you" to my younger cousins who I don't think know how to really talk to me fully but have expressed their wish for more communication. Even if it is short interactions', I always ask for cool pictures from their week, updates etc.

Remind yourself why you aren't there but here It is important to always remember where you came from, why you are here and why you must stay! Sure, sometimes the justifications don't seem worth the loneliness, but trust me, at the end you will see how much you've achieved! Find people where you are, a temporary (with potential of permanence) family This could be via groups on facebook, sports classes, church, cool events happening around town. Get out there and meet people. But also remind yourself that being in a cowed or even a small gather, cannot fix the loneliness - but at least you could be distracted and having fun for a few hours! You are not alone!

Be prepared to ask for help, accept help but also the opposite Being alone means no one to lean on how you may have been able to before. Hard decisions, adulting and all of that is in your hands. You have to make the calls, schedule the appointments, make sure you're fed, clothed and good! But also, when it gets hard, ask for help; Need advice for your studies? ask your Guidance councilor(s), fellow students, professors etc. Confused about insurance? Call and ask all your 'stupid questions' (which, there is no such thing as a stupid question) Don't run from things and people trying to help. Of course have discernment, know when to say No Thank you, Ive Got it vs Thank you, Yes please. But (as said, the opposite can/will happen) Also know that you will ask for help, guidance, support and so on, and you will be given a No, here there and everywhere. Take those No's and place them next to the others and go on till you figure it out. You have to keep going!

Have savings This is always good to have, but having no family or people to truly rely on like that, its good to have a few $ in case something happens and you need to fly out, fly someone over or just cannot work (and there's no one to financially directly support you).

Have a Will This is a bit morbid, but in case anything happens to you, having a drawn up paper (can be made alongside a lawyer or just you writing it on paper, and signing) where you declare what you want done in case of your death, debilitation, accidents etc. You can also delegate your things! It lowkey helps me sleep a bit better knowing all of that is sorted. I have mine send to my email and as a file on my computer - but some people keep it with their passport etc.

Lastly, take care of yourself. Don't let nostalgia trick you into remembering times as being better due to loneliness (this is how you end up with toxic people from your past and attracting them to your presence). Your time is valuable, treat is like so! xo

#anon #advice #tips #expat #living abroad #distance healing #thinkpink advice

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 3 years

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Graveyard Siblings (3)

Some for revenge and some sibling bonding.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 2)

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Adrien was next to be visited. Plagg woke him up from his sleep.

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“Kit, wake up. I want camembert.”

“Plagg, silence. You are not getting any cheese if you do that.”

“Sorry, Adrien but you are not my ‘master’ anymore.”

“Plagg? Why are you here? Where’s the ring?”

“The ring is as far away as possible and kept safely away. I am here because someone wants to talk to you.”

“Who?”

A cloaked, hooded figure stepped out of the shadows to his room.

“Kitty. My Chaton. Did you miss me?” A sweet, familiar but yet so terrifying voice came from the figure.

She pulled down the hood to reveal Ladybug with a wicked-looking black mask with white lenses.

“What am I talking about? You do miss me. Your Bugaboo. Too bad I don’t feel the same, Adrien.”

Lightning flashed and it started to rain. The mask was gone, revealing his dead classmate, Marinette with chilling red eyes. The pigtails grew longer and curved upwards, giving the illusion of her having horns. Twin blades flashed and she leaped towards him. (Damian gave them to her with some lessons in exchange for spending time with, babysitting, the kwamis.)

Adrien scrambled away from the bed in the nick of time. A sword impaling the spot where he just was.

“Plagg, help. Where is the ring? I need to transform.”

“Sorry, kitten. I am not telling you. Even if you did have the ring, it’s not going to be much help.”

“Kitty, stay still. Then, we can be together. Just like you wanted.”

Adrien continued to dodge.

“What do you mean?” He all but screamed at Plagg.

“Pigtails, here, is a vengeful spirit. She’s not going to stop until she is satisfied. How about asking her what she wants?”

“Ladybug, what do you want?”

“What I wanted was a partner I could rely on, someone I can trust with my life, someone who wouldn’t stab me in the back for his own selfish gain. I wanted a friend who would have my back and not tell me to keep quiet at the price of my mental health and my relationships with people I care about. WAS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!”

She managed to get a cut on his left cheek.

Soon, he was on the ground, bleeding out on the round.

“Tell Hawkmoth that he better watch out. Because-” lightning struck and Plagg and Ladybug had disappeared, “his downfall is coming.” Her voice echoed through his room.

Adrien laid bleeding until Natalie opened the door after hearing a crash from the room and came to check on him. As she called an ambulance for Adrien, she wondered if it wasn’t too late to ask for redemption and be spared from Ladybug’s wrath for her part in her murder.

Adrien had the word ‘TRAITOR’ carved into his back. Forever reminding him of his crimes.

--------

He wasn’t in school for a week after the incident. They all were told that Adrien had an accident while fencing.

Gabriel was a little panicking now.

He hired an exorcist, (John Constantine got a hefty amount and did a few flashy magic tricks to appease Gabriel but he didn’t lift the curse Maria put on the place. She is not someone to be on the bad side of and he thinks that he can’t lift it even if he wanted to.)

Emilie gets a little sus at Gabriel when he brought this strange man with a British accent into their home after their son got attacked in his own room with security tighter than Fort Knox.

She doesn’t buy that ‘accident’ bullshit that her husband, son and even Natalie tries to sell her. She thinks it is connected to what happened while she was in a coma.

-----

Adrien has a curse too.

(Credit to @raeuberprinzessin for giving me an idea)

He couldn’t act like the ‘Perfect Adrien’ in public anymore. Acting more like Chat Noir at first then, later a spoiled brat. His friends thought that he was finally rebelling against his father and encouraged it a lot.

Adrien started criticizing other people, strangers at first then to the people working on the photoshoots to his fans to his other school mates, people in his class and his friends. (The curse planted ideas into his head about what he should say and he said them all without thinking about the effect it has on other people)

People started avoiding him not liking his attitude and his comments about how they should behave and change something about them because he doesn’t like it that way and guilt-tripping them when he doesn’t get his way. Even Nino started to distance himself after he saw how Adrien talked to a fan.

The public thought it was a phase but as he got progressively worse, people started despising him. Adrien doesn’t realize this of course so far, happy that his father let him get away with ‘ruining the Agreste image.’ (Gabriel was worried about a potential vengeful ghost and making sure his wife didn't know about his stint as a supervillain. There was also the fact that the Afterlife made more sales than him again and managed to get on the cover of Vogue when he should have, dammit.) He was finally able to say what he wanted to without repercussions. Until he realized when Nino and everyone else cancelled for a hangout for the third time that week that he was slowly losing his friends.

He panics and tries to fix the situation. He didn’t want to be alone again.

He talks to Nino about it and to his horror, he couldn’t stop himself from saying many things that were a little hurtful. (Second part. The moment he realizes he is going to be alone. He is going to find out that yes, lies can hurt people. He is going to see it happen firsthand.)

Nino moved seats and told Adrien that their friendship was on hold until he apologized.

Soon, nearly every time his mouth opened, lies and insults about his friends or their embarrassing secrets came spilling out. Everyone hated him now and Mme. Bustier tried to give him a reprimand about his behaviour, which when he tried to defend himself, he found himself unable to speak.

He managed to explain to his father what caused his unpopularity by writing what happened to him. Unfortunately due to his poor behaviour before the second part of the curse was activated, his fan base was dwindling and people didn’t like him anymore so there was a hit on the Gabriel brand.

He no longer has to do modeling, clearing his schedule. But no one would spend time with him.

The best solution he could do with his predicament was to keep quiet and endure the loneliness and the glares of his classmates at school. Adrien was relegated to the back and nearly everyone avoided him. He was now a social pariah.

Even Lila avoided him because of her own curse which made Adrien turn into one of her previous victims. (She also didn’t ponder why Marinette rarely appears compared to the others.)

If Adrien felt a tiny bit remorseful or guilty for making Marinette keep quiet or betraying Ladybug, he can gain a little control over what he says.

The curse can be broken if he apologizes to Maria herself or to her grave.

------

The first few months, while Marinette adapted to living with the Waynes, Jason stayed over at Wayne Manor because having Maria living with him at his apartment wasn’t a good idea and he had no clue how to take care of a teenage girl.

On paper she is adopted by Bruce because Jason can’t. (Some CPS reasons.)

Making Jason a little more salty towards Bruce. “I found her first. I called dibs.”

Brought Maria to meet the other Outlaws and they adopted her too. “Hey, guys. She’s my sister first.”

Jason was the one to teach her how to shoot a gun because he was ‘the most capable’ of teaching her.

The first few months were a little tense with Marinette not fully trusting them and the same with the rest of the Batfam.

Jason warmed her up a bit to him by telling a little of why he took her here.

He was also the one to book them flight to Paris with Bruce’s credit card so she can tell her friends that she wasn’t dead in person.

They bonded more after stopping some nefarious plot in Paris while they were there. Let’s say Gentleman Ghost and something involving the catacombs in Paris. (I watched some Batman: Brave and the Bold for childhood nostalgia.)

Kwamis were animal-shaped and they were interesting creatures to be around. And very very curious.

There was a stressful day for Maria when all the Kwamis decided to play hide and seek. Damian somehow got roped into helping her as the only available person in the Manor and he will deny that he enjoyed it.

Damian is the little brother she always wanted and she is more tolerable compared to his brothers. There is also the fact that she trusts him with the kwamis and deep down, he feels super-honoured. (I just love older sister!Mari)

Tim and her being insomniac/coffee buddies. There has been many many interventions to stop this.

I get that Marinette is this selfless person and loves making people happy but she has siblings now and them eating the stuff she made for herself to enjoy, should get on her nerves after a while.

She makes a box with booby-traps in which she puts in her cookies and food.

There are many different layers of traps because this is the Batfam and each of them is non-lethal and more ridiculous.

Okay, I once read a fic about Marinette making a bear-trap style box to hide the Miracle Box so this box is also like that but kept for food. (Traps and Sneaks by quicksilversquared)

Someone (I vote a hungry Dick or Jason, maybe a suspicious Bruce) made a mistake of putting their hand into the box and the first trap activated.

Screams filled the house.

Everyone came down including Marinette.

Bruce asked, “Who did this?”

“It was me.”

“Why?”

“They kept eating the cookies.”

“There are other ways to stop them from doing that you know like a ‘Do Not Touch’ sign not a death trap box.”

“They are non-lethal.”

Bruce locked it away but Tim later stole it to tweak it and store his coffee. ------ (Part 4)

#graveyard siblings #maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #adrien salt #adrien bashing #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette

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stilldani24 · 3 years

Text

Pain, but like, It’s Tolerable

corpse husband x platonic!reader oneshot

words: 1089

request: “corpse x reader where she’s a streamer but she’s very private about her personal life and she randomly goes awol for a week before coming back and steaming among us. during the game the others notice that she’s unusually quiet and she lets it slip that she had surgery and is kind of in pain and that’s why she isn’t talking much and everyone is concerned, specially corpse and then he texts her/facetimes her after they both stop streaming to make sure she’s alright and to scold her (like playfully) for not letting him know about the surgery” from anonymous

Your doctor told you to rest for a while, not to work out, and not do anything too strenuous. You knew exactly what to do during your recovery period, and that was play Among Us until you literally dropped from exhaustion.

Okay, not really. But pretty close.

You were actually kind of nervous to go back to playing, especially since you had been pretty much AWOL for the entire week. You had suffered from a few health conditions throughout your life, and had numerous surgeries to fix them, or at least attempt to. Whenever you had one surgery, another one followed three or so years later. And after years of trying to get your kidneys to work with you, you had eventually gone into kidney failure and began dialysis while still trying to be a streamer and maintain your friendships with those you met online. It was hard, balancing everything while also being an adult who had to pay rent and shit, but you managed. All you had to do was pray that someone in your life was a match for you so you didn’t have to wait potentially years on the waitlist.

Your sister was tested and came back as a match, and graciously donated her kidney so you could stop needing dialysis and have a long, happy life. You two now only had one kidney each. Kidney buddies. You should remember to make a shirt like that for Christmas to give to her.

But the second day back from the hospital, you made your way slowly to your game room. You had an ice pack to your incision, wrapped in a towel of course, and slowly sat down in your chair with a soft grunt. After situating your pillows so you wouldn’t be in too much pain, you messaged your Discord group you were in with Corpse, Sean, Felix, and a few others that you were down to play. They immediately sent the game code and you hopped into the game, followed by joining the call. The lobby consisted of Sean, Felix, Corpse, Dave, PJ, Nogla, and yourself. Sean, Felix, and Nogla were streaming whereas the other four of you would just be vibing along with them. You would get back to your regularly scheduled streams when you healed a bit more, so you could be your normal loud and animated self while not worrying your viewers too much.

“Y/N!” Sean greeted you enthusiastically, making you smile as your little purple avatar ran around the lobby of the game. “Where the hell have you been, we’ve been worried sick!”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Corpse added, and you sensed a little smile behind his voice, but also genuine worry. “Where were you, yeah.”

“Oh, just had some personal business to take care of, don’t worry about me,” you responded casually, adjusting yourself a bit. It caused a little twang of pain, causing you to hiss quietly. “So, uh, what are we playing today?”

“We’re gonna play hide and seek, you down?” Felix asked.

“Oh, so down. Let’s go, boys,” you replied back with a grin.

As you played a few rounds of hide and seek, followed by a few rounds of the school game telephone, and finally you guys put the lobby in 3x speed and raced around the map. The boys were all loud as hell as normal, and the race was hella fun, but if you laughed too hard, it hurt like a son of a bitch. Corpse had noticed after a while of your near silence, but didn’t say anything until his worry got the best of him.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you sure you’re okay, you seem really out of it today,” he mentioned in the lobby between games.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, fine, I’ll spill. I didn’t wanna say anything while a few of you were streaming, but it’s alright. I got surgery a week ago. I had a kidney transplant after my kidneys failed, so yeah. I’m in pain right now, but it’s tolerable so I wanted to play with you guys. Kinda take my mind off of it.”

The boys were kinda silent after that.

“No cap?” Corpse finally asked, making you laugh. While you were both Gen Z, the lingo sometimes got you when he used it in front of people who definitely were not Gen Z.

“No cap, Corpse,” you replied, a smile still on your face. “Deadass though, I’m doing alright. I missed playing after not being able to for a week of being in the hospital so let’s get back to it, shall we?”

After a weird game of trivia, where Dave gave PJ the easiest question ever and the rest of you questions you couldn’t even think of answering, the lot of you stopped playing and exited the call to go about the rest of your days. Not even two minutes later though, as you were trying to get the strength to stand up, your phone began ringing with the familiar tone for FaceTime. You slumped back down into your chair before picking up your phone.

“Hey, Corpse, what’s up? Miss me already?” you teased as you sat back in your chair, grunting a little bit from the movement. You were definitely not FaceTime ready, with dirty hair and sleep deprived eyes, but you were always down to talk to your best friend. You didn’t give a fuck what you looked like to him. Corpse had his camera off.

“Damn, you look like shit,” he laughed, making you do as well. It was just the kind of friendship you had. “But what the fuck, dude? You were MIA for a week just to come back to say that you had a kidney transplant? The fuck?”

“I’m sorry!” You laughed, holding your arms up slightly in defense. “I didn’t wanna worry you. You already got shit going on in your life, you don’t need my problems tacked on as well.”

Corpse audibly huffed, and you could tell he was just rolling eyes. Playfully, of course. “Hell, if you needed a kidney, you could have fucking asked. I don’t know if I’d even be a match but I’d be willing to get tested.”

“Awe, Corpsie,” you teased playfully. “Genuine friendship? In this economy? Unheard of. But thank you, that actually means a lot. Where were you when I was on dialysis though, huh?”

“Well if you would have fucking told me--”

“Whoops, look at the time! Gotta go!”

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband x you #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #request #corpse simp

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler smut #30 fics in 30 days

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peachiimilquetea · 3 years

Note

something angsty with tenya leaving fem reader for the event? ty! prompt: “you can’t leave me. i don’t know how to survive without you.”

“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞. 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.” + tenya iida

a/n: bro… i don’t really like angst without the potential for a somewhat happy ending so i hope you’re ok with the fact that it’s not completely sad. i did pull on the heartstrings quite a bit tho, i hope you enjoy! check out the event here

contains: angst (obviously), iida being heavily influenced by his family, tensei to the rescue lowkey, crying, insecurities, mentions of alcohol, ambiguous ending, miscommunication

length: 2.0k

at first things had started off small.

iida worked long hours as the work of his brother’s hero agency fell on his shoulders. he tried his best to make time for you, but it always felt like your schedules could never line up just right.

you tried to work something out, quick calls on break times and cute messages around the house to remind you of one another, but most efforts fell flat.

then things started to get worse.

long and empty nights were spent building up resentment towards the man you had married. he was always doing something, something that took precedence over the vows you made when you walked down the isle no more than three years ago.

you knew his family didn’t like you that much, feeling that a marriage for love was a waste of such a powerful commitment. a commitment that could built them an empire, and boost the rank of their hero agency, solidifying a legacy for them.

tenya defied them for you, boldly declaring that he would marry whoever he wanted and that you were in it for the long haul. you were the girl of his dreams, he said, and anything that got in the way of his happiness was not something he would subscribe to. that only made them hate you more.

so when his texts of encouragement grew shorter and more sparse, and he began to have more special responsibilities bestowed upon him by none other than his father, you knew it was on purpose.

unfortunately, it was an effective strategy to chip away at a young and unseasoned marriage.

“tenya can you please just check your schedule? i really want to spend more time with you.”

he sighed and rubbed his temples as he sat in his office. why were you bothering him with something so insignificant? you knew how important this transition of power was for the iida family, for the legacy of ingenium, but you still persisted.

he could feel the anger beginning to build until he looked in your eyes and saw the sadness brimming in them. his heart squeezed in his chest as he watched you, his wife, plead with him to spend time together. when had things come to this?

“i’ll try my best, but i cant promise anything.”

at this point, that was better than anything you could’ve hoped for.

with a kiss to his forehead you left him alone to get the heaps of paperwork he had to do, spirits lifted at the prospect of spending time with him again. just like the way it used to be.

you checked the time on the microwave for the 9th time. fifty-seven minutes had passed and your husband was officially late.

you should have seen it coming really, empty promises were becoming more and more common amongst the two of you. he would promise to try harder and you would promise to cut him more slack, the constant push and pull never being enough for either party.

getting up from the barstool at your kitchen island you made your way to the wine cooler to get a drink. not even bothering to pick up a glass you slumped on the couch, kicking off your shoes and splaying yourself out, just wanting the cushions to swallow you whole and dull the aching in your heart.

he wasn’t coming.

he was never coming.

you laid passed out on the couch when iida finally came home 2 hours later. he was only stopping by for a quick break, then going back out on patrol and he completely forgot about the things he said, smiling through tired eyes as he thought, this time i’ll make it up to her.

at the very least he could clean you up and tuck you in. he could brace himself for the impending fight later, but he was concerned about you. you never drank, not unless there was something wrong.

iida easily hoisted you up over his shoulder, discarding the various wine bottles and taking you to your shared room, although he wasn't sure if it was still considered shared anymore.

he laid you on the bed softly, changing you into one of his old shirts. his fingers ghosted over your cheek as he watched you sleep, the reality of where he was sitting heavy on his heart.

he loved you and yet there was nothing he could do to help at this moment. he had to leave for night patrol. he had to leave you.

his gentle touches roused you from your sleep and your eyes felt heavy as you tried to blink them open.

“you came?” you breathed, voice sounding foreign even to yourself.

iida gave you a small smile, “im sorry.”

your demeanor did a 180 at his apology. he was sorry. he was always sorry. but sorry couldn’t fix this. not when it had been so broken.

you winced and sat up, “sorry for what? sorry that you broke your promise for the thousandth time or sorry that you’ve been such a shit husband for the past few months?!”

“______-”

“no tenya. you do this every single time! every time i want to spend time with you theres always something more important! what could be more important than your wife?!”

“______ you know my father-”

you laughed bitterly at the mention of his dad. he always had to be such a good little iida child, always on daddy’s beck and call. it made you sick.

“your father doesn’t even want us to be together! cant you see that he’s doing this on purpose! youre a grown man! not a child permanently tied to his mommy and daddy!” you spat

“hes giving more responsibility for the sake of the agency! for the ingenium legacy! why are you always so selfish when it comes to these things?”

“selfish? selfish?” you asked, incredulous. you couldn’t believe your ears.

“yes selfish. do you know how much i sacrificed to be with you? how much i already have on my plate on top of trying my best to make time for you?”

you stared in astonishment.

sacrifice?

what had he sacrificed for this relationship? he got to do what he wanted, come and go as he pleased with virtually no regard for how you felt or what you did. what sacrifice was there in that way of living?

“fuck you, tenya.”

tenya took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. he chose his words carefully before finally saying, “i cant do this. im leaving.”

you could hear a pin drop in the room. you felt your blood pound in your ears as you stood up quickly, dizzy from the alcohol but still trying to process the words you had just heard.

leaving?

“youre leaving?”

“yes, i have to go. im not doing this with you, not now.”

your heart felt like it had been smashed by a sledgehammer, as you tried to regulate your breathing. leaving. he was leaving.

“w-wait,” you feebly attempted to cling onto him as he gathered a few of his things.

“tenya you cant leave me.”

“_____ i do not want to do this right now,” he sighed, easily shaking you off and moving to collect more things. his words were buzzing around on the inside of your skull. he was leaving.

leaving without so much of a second thought. he had been planning this. still unsteady on your feet you hobbled after him as quickly as possible, desperation taking over every fiber of your body. you didn't want to lose him, you just wanted your husband back, you happiness back.

“y-you cant do that! you cant leave me! i dont know how to survive without you, tenya, please-”

“_____, just go to bed. you’re drunk.”

you trailed him around the house,“no, you don’t get to decide when this is over. i'm the one whos been hurting for months you cannot just leave me by myself.”

iida spared you one last glance before grabbing his bag, “goodbye, _____”

crushed, you sank to your knees, leaning on the couch for support. you felt like you were dying., hell, you probably were dying. you had never had so much to drink in your life, and you were desperate to make the pounding pain in your chest stop.

you cried yourself to sleep that night, waking up to the sunlight coming through the window with a splitting headache. you felt like your skull was trying to crack itself open from the inside but you shakily got to your feet, remembering bits and pieces from your fight with iida.

you could tell he didn't come home last night; everything was exactly the way you had left it last night. the house alarm was still on, and his shoes were gone.

he actually left.

anger bubbled in your chest as you thought about what had actually happened. you would not let him get the last laugh, or be the last one left, the one waiting on him patiently to pick up the pieces after trying to keep it together. you would leave too, as much as it hurt, and show him just how selfish you could be.

in a flash, you haphazardly packed a bag with essentials and had texted your friends that you needed a place to stay for a few days. you didn’t get into specifics- your heart ached too much to relive the events of the previous night- but you told them you had reached your limit and you needed to take some time to cool off.

alternatively, iida did not sleep that night. after finishing patrols, he stayed at his brother’s apartment out of pure convenience, not feeling prepared to face you after everything that had transpired between the two of you.

the dark-haired man laid staring at the ceiling of tensei’s guest bedroom, wracking his brain and trying to pinpoint how things had gone south so fast. he wanted to fix things, but really didn’t know how. he couldn’t even tell you what was broken, let alone how to begin to fix them.

his brother had tried to give him advice after listening to the entire story, but there was only so much he could do. he knew that you were right, their father was keeping him from you on purpose, slowly making tenya think that he was in the right in an attempt to break you up, but he couldn't be the one to tell him.

tenya had to come to that conclusion himself. he needed to be the one to set boundaries and save your relationship, but from the looks of it, soon any attempts would be futile.

“_____? darling?” iida called as he came into your home. immediately noticing your missing shoes, he moved to the bedroom in a flash, checking to see if you had just moved them or something.

the room was a mess, drawers left open and clothing strewn across the bed and floor. the bathroom had been cleared of almost all your essentials, and a note was left on the dresser. gingerly, iida picked it up and read it, offering up a silent prayer that it didn't say what he thought it did.

i don't know when you'll see this, or if you ever will. if you're reading it, that means you came back home but you will not find me there.

im tired, tenya.

im tired of always being the one to extend the olive branch or bend over backwards for you.

i refuse to be in that position any longer. i love you… i love you so much it hurts sometimes because i know this isn't the way things were supposed to be. but you left, and so i decided to leave too.

if a way to fix things exists, i want us to find it, but right now i need some time to reevaluate us and what that means. i hope you understand, i know you will.

if you want to reach out, im open to talking about this further, but for right now i need to think.

goodbye.

--------

#peachiileaf50!#[🍑]peachiimilquetea #[🍑]peachiiwrites #scenario #tenya iida #mha iida #iida angst #angst #tenya iida x reader #iida x female reader #peachiileafsfw

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anyotherwriter · 3 years

Text

Split Decision [5]

Masterlist

You ever write something and wonder why and think, "that doesn't make any sense at all"? Because that's me. But I wanted to have this ready today. I've never been good with deadlines or schedules and I'm making an honest effort. It was rough. My daughter really put me through it today and my brain feels like it packed up and left for a six week vacation. I won't sleep if I don't post this and get it off my list of things to do. I proof-read once, I think. I have an ending to the series still but don't know what the fuck any of the middle of this story is anymore because I went way off the outline I wrote.

Anyway. Gif is not mine, credit to whomever made it. Regular TWD warnings, continue reading at your own risk I guess. You can find the playlist for this series (and Daryl in general) in the masterlist.

And if anyone ever tells you that being a stay at home mom is a gravy train, punch them in the teeth for me. Okay, love you, bye.

\\\\\\\\\\\///////////

It seemed as if the buzzing in Y/N's chest was shaking the entire room. She was lying on a bed in the infirmary trying to distract herself by counting the spots in the drop ceiling… or were they dried blood spatter?

The winter was about a month from letting up and Siddiq was tired of watching Y/N hobble around when he knew how to fix it. "I read it in a few books, I can do it." He told her several times. She wasn't quite sure how he'd manage to convince her this was a good idea. It wasn't, not even a little bit. Maybe he just wore her down, annoyed the shit out of her enough that she capitulated to get him to shut up.

"Ya aint gotta do this." Daryl said from his place across the room anxiously chewing on a fingernail. He could tell the moment he first saw her this morning that she was scared and unsure. He didn't want Y/N to feel pressured to do something she didn't want to do just because a doctor had never done this before and wanted to "give it a shot". It didn't settle well with Daryl but he also knew that he couldn't stop her if she wanted to go through with it. He'd been glued to the same spot, listening to the questions and the answers (if there was one), the concerns and how it could potentially make all the problems worse. The only thing that was certain was the panic that laced her voice, no matter how much she tried to square her shoulders and put on a brave face.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Y/N attempted to be sarcastic, but the look in her eyes made Daryl's knuckles clench in frustration. They had already been over this, all of the 'worsts'. Rosita chuckled from beside her as she neared the bed and turned her attention to Siddiq.

"Can't walk right no more. More pain." He said to her, his voice low, but voicing the two concerns that bugged him the most. They stared at each other for a minute. She could tell he was concerned, not missing the way his brow crinkled a bit. His eyes showed worry. She reached out her hand for him. Daryl hesitated at first but then crossed the few feet that separated them. He took her hand firmly as she started to lay back and tried to fluff the flat pillow beneath her head. He leant on the bed beside her with his free hand, hovering over her a bit. She shut her eyes tight. He looked over to Rosita briefly, her eyes fixed downward into the denim of Y/N’s jeans. He hoped that Rosita would say something, maybe try to reason with her… talk her out of it. But she stayed silent.

"Tell me again how you did this the first time?" Siddiq asked as he prepared the area around him and unpacked his supplies. He stood at her feet now hoping he didn’t get kicked in the process. He, too, was nervous. It was a simple thing in theory. Modern medicine before the apocalypse made resetting a bone an easy task. Re-break, re-mend.

"Fell down a small rock face. Only about a ten foot drop, I still remember the sound of the snap." Y/N said breathless as Siddiq removed her boot and then her sock. He rolled her ankle in his hands a few times, trying to pinpoint where the popping was coming from with his forced motions, and felt for any disfigured bones in the area. Without x-rays, he would never be able to be a hundred percent sure. That’s where his uncertainty came from. It wasn’t enough to make him call it off. He was confident that he could help. There was just a nagging feeling in the back of his mind trying to push forward to remind him that he could create even bigger problems for her in the future.

"How did you set it yourself?" He asked to distract her and tried to clear his own mind. He was the one they relied on to fix people, not to break them. He took a slow deep breath of his own as he nodded at both Rosita and Daryl. Y/N had missed this, but she didn’t miss the way Daryl leaned down closer to her.

“Ya sure? It’s gonna hurt ya.” Daryl asked. She opened her eyes and was made aware of how close he had gotten to her. She could see a bit of stress-grays peppering his chin and the small ring of green that surrounded his pupils before it exploded into blue. She nodded and shut her eyes tight again. “I don’ want ya hurtin’.”

"Took a while to climb back to my pack” she started, trying her best to push past what Daryl had said and answering Siddiq’s question. “The mountains are harder to navigate when you're injured. But when I got back to my camp, I broke a smaller branch in two and-" And then silence consumed the room for about five seconds. Then the silent scream turned into a loud and tearful scream. The initial shock of pain from the ankle that Siddiq had just rebroke started to grow and grow and grow. It reverberated up through her leg and into the hip.

Daryl watched her eyes grow wide in time with the snapping of her bone, a sound that would haunt Daryl, and he dropped his torso lower over hers and his other hand snaked into her hair as he massaged the crown of her head with his fingers. He allowed her to muffle her cries in the breast of his shirt as he held on to her. Rosita tried her best to hold Y/N’s legs down so Siddiq could work.

"Yer a'ight." He said gently even though his brain was yelling at him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He shouldn’t have let her agree to it. There was probably a better way, but he didn’t know of any. Siddiq had spent the last two months trying to help her with pain management, even having her sit with her foot buried in the snow from the calf down to numb it. They were temporary fixes but nothing stuck. They could see how much the pain affected her and Daryl stuck by her and hoped he could offer her comfort if she needed it, in any way. He’d fetch ice packs, rest her ankle across his lap as he’d gently massage it, let her lean on him on a particularly rough morning...

The tight grasp she had on the shoulder of his shirt began to loosen as her cries turned into ragged deep breaths.

"You couldn't count to three or something?" She mustered out, her words sounding shaky and heavily muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Her breaths came out quickly, the rise and fall of her chest harder with Daryl's weight rested over her. She was thankful for something solid to hold on to, even more thankful it was him.

"Would that have made it easier?" Siddiq asked with a small smirk on his face. His eyes were focused on her ankle as he set it the best he could. That nagging that reminded him this may not work was trying to come back, but he wasn’t going to let it affect his efforts. He wanted Y/N to be comfortable and pain-free if he could help it. He just hoped she'd give it an honest shot at healing, something he'd have to rally a small group to drill into her head.

"Fuck no." She exhaled deeply. Y/N was coming back from the initial shock and was now hyper focused on every move Siddiq had made at her feet, but also on the archer who hadn't lifted his weight off her yet. He smelled like campfire and oil and cigarettes and his hair was tickling her upper lip. His fingers were still moving around in her hair. She continued her hold on his shoulder and not letting him stand straight just yet. The weight of his chest pressed on top of her was keeping her distracted enough as they continued in silence for a few more minutes until her ankle was wrapped tight and secure. The loss of Daryl resting on her as he started to push himself up made her whine again. She hoped she could mask that one as a pain reaction as her cheeks flushed a bit. He then helped her sit up; she refused to let his hand go. The jostling of her new injury caused her to flinch.

"You really have to stay off it." Siddiq demanded with his full attention on her. He knew there was a very good chance she wouldn't listen. "If it heals wrong again, you'll probably be in more pain than before."

"Remind me why I let you do this again?" Y/N mumbled as she stared down at her foot. Luckily she couldn't see the swelling and bruising beneath the wraps. Siddiq handed Daryl a pair of crutches and Y/N groaned.

"A lot of ice, no walking, stay hydrated, eat." Siddiq said to her plainly. He didn't sugarcoat much for Y/N anymore the way he would for most of the Alexandrians, not after she merely attacked him for trying to help her that first time. So he treated her accordingly. "Don't do anything stupid."

Y/N rolled her eyes and she sat staring at the crutches that Daryl offered out to her. She didn't make a move to grab them.

"Take 'em." Daryl encouraged and she pouted. "Ya won' like the other choice."

Y/N recalled the last time she had crutches. She'd fallen in gym class in middle school and sprained her ankle, the same one that was currently broken again. She remembered the armpit pieces messing up her shirts and rubbing her skin raw. She remembered a few kids making fun of her for being so clumsy, one even tried to trip her. She wished she had the balls back then that she did now to take a crutch and whack that annoying bully across the chest with the aluminum.

She felt a heavy sigh leave her as she finally dropped Daryl's hand, taking note of the crescent moons her nails had left behind. But Daryl grew impatient and started towards the door. He opened it, making Y/N think he was going to leave her there. But he only peeked out for a few seconds and then handed the crutches to a very short someone waiting outside. She could hear Judith asking Daryl if she was okay. He then came back into the room, walked up on her quickly, and slipped one hand around her back and the other beneath her knees. The quickness of his movements hit a hard stop when he quietly asked if she was ready, careful not to jostle her ankle too much, and picked her up off the bed. Y/N made a small squeak as she tightened her arms around his neck as he began to carry her out of the infirmary, down the steps, and back to her room. Judith trailed beside them, crutches awkwardly clutched in her small hands. Nobody saw the way Rosita rolled her eyes.

After a minute of feeling Daryl's arm wrapped around her back and the hand that held her tight on the side, she glanced at his face. It seemed blank and void of emotion as he stared straight ahead. They were getting odd looks from passers-by and Judith took it upon herself to keep them at bay. She was telling people that Y/N was just fine. But Y/N wasn't. Sure, she willingly let an apocalypse doctor snap her ankle on purpose and it hurt like hell; that she was fine with. The thing that was making her want to implode was how Daryl hadn't seemed to put more than six feet of distance between them today on his own volition. She'd told him several times he didn't need to stay, she could find someone else to help if he was too busy, and that she'd be okay. But he'd shake his head, or mumble a "nah" or ignore her completely and stay anyway. That is why she wasn't "fine". She'd given him several outs and he hadn't even considered one of them.

"I have to tell you, Dixon," Y/N almost whispered. His eyes peered down at her for a few seconds before looking straight again "This is a much better choice."

And she laughed at the way his neck and ears turned red. She just hoped he would hang around for the next six weeks the way he did today. Maybe longer.

****

The air would change in her bedroom to match the person visiting. When Siddiq would drop by, it felt professional. He'd examine her foot and change wraps if needed. The bruising was fading well and when no one was looking, she tried to rotate her ankle. Bright side was that it still worked. That was something. He'd give her some pain killers, make sure her water was filled, and leave.

Judith would bring her a new book or a deck of cards and want to play to pass some time. Y/N would tell her about cool places she'd been growing up and the places she never got the chance to. Judith would always listen intently and the atmosphere would stay light.

Rosita brought a sense of duty with her. She cared about Y/N's well-being and missed their late nights where they would just sit in silence together on the wall. So she'd come to Y/N's room to do the exact same thing, typically bringing food with her or some minor gossip from around the community while still being a little reserved.

Aaron felt like a warm hug. He asked her how she was feeling and if she needed anything. He let her vent about hovering and people not letting her do anything. She complained about how she just wanted to leave the room without someone hot on her heels acting like she was fragile. She'd often thank Aaron for letting her get it all out and he'd offer her a hug every time. He, too, would bring food with him.

When Daryl showed up, the room would feel small. Since the day he’d carried her into the basement and placed her in her bed, he’d show up like clock-work. He would triple-knock and wait until Y/N would call him in. He didn’t typically talk when he came in, leaving Y/N to carry most of the conversations. He would just make himself comfortable on the floor with his back resting against the wall right beside her bed. Sometimes he’d bring supplies with him to make new bolts. Other times, he’d bring a few guns to clean. Rarely, but a few times now, he’d come in with nothing and fall into a light sleep. With any minor movement or sound of discomfort or even a sneeze, his eyes would open back up. So in the times he did decide that he was comfortable enough to find some slumber, Y/N would be as still and quiet as a mouse.

Tonight seemed like a sleeping kind of evening for him when he walked in. He carried himself slowly, like his limbs were too heavy to go any further. He glanced at her when he first opened the door before stepping over to his usual spot and making himself comfortable.

"Daryl." She called quietly. She had the tape playing beside her at full volume but turned it off completely when she saw his eyes close slowly. He offered a small hum in response. "Did you ever have those glow in the dark stars on your bedroom ceiling?"

"Nah."

"Me neither." She'd say, her voice sounding wistful. "We'd travel a lot and go camping and outdoorsy stuff and when we'd put the fire out, we would sit there and star gaze for a bit before bedtime. Even when I had real stars, I always thought about those stupid bright green ones they'd sell at the dollar store."

When she'd look in his direction, he'd be looking back.

"Wha' happened to yer dad?" He'd ask softly.

Y/N was surprised he had asked but also equally surprised it had taken him this long to. It wasn't like she'd kept him a secret; she'd talk about him often.

"He must've been sick. We traveled into the mountains, heading east, when we just got comfortable. We were able to trap small game and build shelter and walkers can't climb rocks. It made sense to stay. So we camped there for a while, even braved the winter in an abandoned bear cave. It was rough, but we did it. Then one morning, I was collecting some berries and walnuts and I heard the growling. We didn’t encounter many walkers up there, but we’d get a straggler every now and then. When I turned to kill it, I froze. I didn’t expect it to be my dad.

“I cried and I screamed and I… I didn't understand what happened. I was stuck in this place where it was my dad but at the same time it wasn’t, ya know?”

Daryl did know. Small, faded flashes of his brother came to mind. He didn't say anything, though, but still left the wall to scoot closer to the side of her bed. She had her hands folded on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling.

“I froze too long and he got too close. I didn’t have enough motion to put him down kindly. I lost my footing and we both toppled down to the ground and I was trapped. The only place to go was down; that’s when I broke my ankle.

"You know what bugs me the most?" She asked, turning her head to look at Daryl. The flicker from the lamps and candles around the room cast a warm glow across his cheeks. He hummed again. "I couldn't bury him or anything. When I dropped down, his body followed. But it didn’t catch on the ledge with me. It hit the edge and I heard his bones smash as he continued to tumble down the steep side of the mountain. I didn’t look for his body.”

"Aint yer fault." He said.

"I know." She said with a sad smile. "But it doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Wha'dya do after tha'?" He asked. He noticed that her eyes were beginning to droop and her speech was getting slower. She was close to sleep, too.

"Camped out for a while, let my ankle heal. Then packed up and headed east again.”

"Why east?" He whispered.

"Never seen the ocean before." She mumbled. She unclasped her hands to seek out his arm with her right. He didn’t hesitate to cover hers with his. The position looked awkward for her arm and his was starting to fall asleep as he rested his weight into it, but he didn't pull away. And as she fell asleep, he only thought about Oceanside. He'd seen the beach plenty of times, never once giving a damn about it. He hated the way the sand would slip into the opening of his boots and cake down by his toes. He hated the way the salt in the air made his skin feel. The waves were too loud. Hunting was sparse and he wasn't a fan of fish. But sitting there watching her sleep, he decided that when she could travel safely again and it was warmer, he was going to take her there.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #trash day #twd fanfiction #daryl x reader

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touyasdoll · 3 years

Text

Complicated - Chapter Two

Chapter One: Here

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

Warnings: self-degradation/self-doubt

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: Gonna rework this and ditch the first person POV, jsyk.

A/n pt. 2: This story does contain spoilers for the show/manga. The dates/ages of characters are going to be shifted around a bit.

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

It's been two days. Is he gonna call? Text? Completely forget I exist?

I sigh, trying to expel the anxiety balled up in the pit of my stomach.

Why would he call? We talked for, what, five minutes? He seemed older too. You were in your damn school uniform, idiot. He's obviously got more important shit to do than chat up a schoolgirl who can't mind her own fucking business.

"Ugh," I groan to no one but myself in my apartment. "I'm really just the biggest fucking jackass, aren't I?"

Flopping down on my bed, I let out another weighty sigh and bury my face in the plethora of pillows piled beneath me.

Relax. Maybe he'll text. Maybe he won't. And if he doesn't he's just sparing you the embarrassment that you would inevitably bring upon yourself.

A yawn escapes my lips as I feel a wave of drowsiness wash over me. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was hardly 5 PM.

Fucked up sleep schedule, here I come.

The familiar comfort of my bed allows me to quiet my thoughts enough to fall into a shallow sleep, until I'm startled awake by a vibrating sensation coming from underneath my chin.

I blink against the harsh light emitting from my phone, squinting to see who was disturbing me.

What the--oh shit!

It was an unknown number. Recognizing that it could be him, I sit up faster than I have ever managed to after a nap and fumble the phone into my palm, eagerly sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

My breath hitches and I bite my lip in anticipation as I wait, eager to hear his deep, silky voice on the other end.

But the pause on the other side of the line seems just a little too long. Something is off.

Is this him? Is it..just some creep? A prank? What the hell?

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

My eyes slam shut, a shake reverberating through my spine as a cocktail of anger and embarrassment wash over me.

That's it. Hope is off limits from now on.

"Fucking great."

I tap the end button, half ready to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I decide to check and see if I missed anything else while I was out.

Hope is off limits.

I shake my head, trying to erase the little embers of hope that persist, praying that maybe he did reach out.

To my surprise, there's a text from an unrecognized number.

Unknown: You free tonight, doll?

Holy shit.

Looking above the message, I see: Today 6:58 PM. I wince as I dare to look at the clock, which mercifully reads 7:26 PM.

Tapping the text box, I don't give myself the chance to overthink this opportunity.

Me: For you? Sure thing.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I nod my head, processing the sudden burst of confidence I seem to have found.

I'm not like this. What is it about this guy? He's just that--a guy. One that I don't know. And now I'm just gonna meet up with him?

He's literally a stranger. Who the hell do I think I am?? Is my vagina just running things now? Gonna run out and meet up with some strange dude, because he's pretty and charming?

You know who else was pretty and charming?? Ted Bundy.

That's right, you said it. This is dumb, logically. This is everything everyone’s ever warned you about.

My phone buzzes and my heart rate spikes in response, tearing me from my spiraling doubts.

Unknown: Our spot. 30 minutes. See you there.

A noise that I've certainly never made before eeks past my lips as I process his instructions.

Fuck it. The possibility of this guy being a serial killer has been assessed. I'm going, risks be damned.

You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot.

I sigh for the umpteenth time today, waging war in my own mind.

I don't know what it is about him, but I have to see him again. Nothing bad is going to happen. It'll be fine.

That's what I tell myself as I exhale, until I catch my reflection.

My hair is disheveled, my mascara askew. I didn't even bother to take off my uniform before I passed out.

As if I weren't flustered enough, now I gotta make myself looking somewhere near presentable and get down there in time.

Here goes nothing.

Fifteen minutes fly by and I think I've managed it as I step back to look myself over in the mirror once more.

The shortest pair of high-waisted shorts I own, paired with a low-cut black crop top and my favorite slip-ons. My make-up doesn't look perfect and there's not much of it, but it's touched up, and my hair is at least brushed.

Okay, no turning back now.

Grabbing my keys, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the meeting place.

+++++++++++++++

Our spot. The man is smooth and I think that he knows it.

I re-read the last message he sent for probably the thirteenth time in the past five minutes.

The clock in the corner of the screen reads 8:02.

Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a joke. He and his buddies with come around a corner and laugh as they speed off.

Damn, can I chill? No. He’s going to be here. And I’m going to act like a human fucking being. A normal girl. Someone he could like; I’m capable of that.

Aren’t I?

Scanning my surroundings yet again, I take in the scenery. I never really get out at night, but the city looks so pretty this way. There’s not too much traffic, especially considering that it’s a Friday night, but there are some people milling about up and down the sidewalk. Some look like they’re on their way home. Some look like they’re on their way out for a night on the town.

“Hey there.”

My eyes are quick to follow the sound of his voice. I look up and he’s strolling up to the bench where I’m seated, the same one where I bandaged his arm the other day.

His hands are shoved in his front pockets, thumbs pushed through the belt loops of the tight, black jeans he’s sporting. His white t-shirt dangles off of his frame in a way that suits him, offering a glimpse of his muscular chest. A black coat completes his ensemble and he certainly looks the part of the typical bad boy.

But, damn, does it look so good on him.

“Hey, there. How’s the arm?”

I scoot over a bit, allowing for ample space between us if he were to take a seat. To my surprise, he sits towards the middle of the bench, so that his thigh brushes against mine as he settles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down and covering the noise I want to make with a quiet clearing of my throat.

“It’s good. You do make a pretty decent nurse, sweetheart.”

He grins and pulls his coat sleeve back, revealing the still bandaged wound.

“Wait, have you changed that?”

You’re such a mom. You better hope he’s into MILFs, because otherwise this ain’t gonna get you where you wanna go, girl.

His brow furrows in an expression that tells me all I need to know before he even speaks.

“What do you mean? Changed what?”

A quiet sigh leaves my lungs as I hold out my hand.

“May I?”

His puzzled expression doesn’t falter, but he shrugs and offers his forearm up for inspection.

Carefully, I pull back the tape holding the bandages together and slowly begin to unwrap them.

That is, until the smell hits me. I barely catch of glimpse of the reddened skin before my nostrils detect the scent of burned flesh and excess viscera.

“Oh, dear. Have you even unwrapped this thing?”

Trying not to agitate anything further, I delicately wrap the bandages back around his arm, taping them down once again.

“No, should I have?”

I look up and my gaze meets his, a sense of true ignorance evident in his expression; I try not to laugh. I really try, but a soft giggle escapes nonetheless.

“Yes! I mean, if it doesn’t hurt, I’m sure it’s not that bad right now, but you should be cleaning and redressing a wound like that once every 12 hours at the very least. It’s been what, like, at least 50 at this point?”

His good arm reaches for the back of his neck, scratching at it as he dons an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly nurturing by nature, doll. I don’t know the first fucking thing about this kind shit.”

I cock a sympathetic smile as I look at him, sitting there looking almost helpless. I guess he is, in a sense. It’s actually kinda cute how he doesn’t seem to have an inkling of how to properly care for himself.

Because that’s absolutely what you want in a potential relationship. Someone to fix, how fun! Why not open up a shop for broken boys? Girl, when will you learnnn??

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but if you don’t mind coming back to my place, I could clean it up there? And I’ll teach you how to keep up with it this time.”

I guess not today, motherfucker.

“Coming to my rescue again. You must be in a hero course, huh, doll?”

His smile is so naturally disarming as he stands and offers his hand out before me.

“I don’t mind, if you’re sure you don’t. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna be a burden. I didn’t ask you out tonight for you to have to play doctor on me again.”

He seems so sweet, so genuine. Maybe he is broken, but everyone deserves kindness. He looks like he hasn’t seen much of that. And as cliché as it is, maybe I can help him. Maybe he can help me.

I slip my hand in his, smiling as flirtatiously as I can manage as he pulls me to my feet.

“I don’t mind. I was kind of hoping I might get to play doctor on you again anyway. Maybe you could even return the favor.”

I brush my fingers against his as our hands disconnect, taking a page from his own book and watching his expression as my skin glides against his.

Or maybe we could just do this. This works too. No muss, no fuss. But oh my goodness what if what I just did was weird and he’s not even interested??

His eyebrows rise for just a moment as he chuckles and glances down, still grinning as he puts his hands in his coat pockets.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t know much about medicine, but I do know how to give a pretty thorough physical exam.”

Something twitched deep inside my belly as my breath caught in my throat and I damn near tripped over my own two feet as we started walking.

Thankfully, his reflexes were quicker than my inate ability to fuck things up and his good arm reached out to steady my frame as he stepped in front of me.

The delicious scent of his cologne mingling with remnant cigarette smoke nearly made me dizzy as my hands connected with his chest, now completely unable to ignore the muscles just beneath his thin shirt.

“You all right there, doll?”

Long, slender fingers find their way under my chin. His thumb just barely brushing the edge of my bottom lip as he strokes it over my chin.

His eyes are practically piercing mine as he carefully lifts my face to his. Who knew being in such close proximity to someone so beautiful could be this paralyzing.

Holy fuck. Forget fixing me. He can break me and I’ll probably thank him for it.

The strong hand on the small of my back threatens to rob me of my breath all over again and I have to fight to keep any semblance of composure in his arms.

“Yeah.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and will myself to break eye contact. “You always have girls falling for you this quickly?”

I pity laugh at my own joke, wishing my quirk was something that would allow me to disappear.

But then he’s chuckling too. It’s melodious at first, but then it morphs into a deep reverberation that sends all the right chills down my spine as I level my eyes with his again.

He looks like an enigma personified. His eyes look so gentle and warm, but his smile reads so sad. The words that leave his lips sound like both a warning and an invitation to my flushe red ears.

“Trust me, princess. You don’t wanna fall for me. I’m no good for you.”

Oh, but it’s too late for that.

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader. The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think. Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms. Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out. Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift. But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters. As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent. It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills.

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off. Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed. “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.” I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space. It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures. Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together. Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting. She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief. Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order. First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix. Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space.

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels. Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone. “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component. The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is. Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily. Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something. I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion. The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom. Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it. Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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alecxaheart · 3 years

Text

Falls At 4419 | Bang Chan Oneshot

✎ Genre : Strangers to Lovers AU, Fluff

✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader

✎ Word Count : 2.1k words

✎ Synopsis : Who could've thought that your ride to love life starts at a bus stop.

✎ Requested.

You had the usual tiring daily routine for the rest of your life. Your weekday mornings start with your alarm clock greeting you "good morning" in the most annoying beeping way as possible. What a gentle reminder, too, to tell you that it's almost time for work.

" Work again? " you groaned at the thought, hands reaching out to the bedside table to turn off the alarm. Once you did, you forced yourself out of the bed and start preparing for today.

You were completely exhausted due to the stack of work your boss gives you.

It's to the point that it made you sleep deprived, haggard or just messy in general. You don't even know if you ever managed to cover all of that, physically, with make-up. However, when it came to your words and actions, it's noticeable when one paid attention. It's a good thing that Ms. Han was blind to that, or else you'll be told that you're lacking and higher chances of you getting fired.

But aside from every negative thing about your occupation, so far your performances were praised by your co-workers. Salary has never been a problem, in fact, you've been paid higher than expected. Maybe it's from the plus being Ms. Han's pet-sitter — for the love of all things, it had to be a cat.

You're almost done preparing for work. With your feet taking a quick slip into your black heels, you're on your way out of the house. Clacking noises could be heard each time your heels meet the pavement.

As you were headed towards the bus stop, you felt something vibrating from your purse. Opening it, you found your phone ringing. The caller ID displays the name of your boss, Ms. Han. What could be the kind of good morning greeting I'll receive from her today?

You answered it and placed it to your right ear, immediately hearing your name. " Assistant (L/N) (Y/N)! " Ms. Han called out through the other line.

" Good morning to you too, Ms. Han. You have matters to discuss with me at this time? " You replied, stopping at your tracks as you've reached the bus stop. All you need to do now is wait for the bus and keep yourself together with whatever Ms. Han may throw at you.

" I'm assuming you've already done the project for today, " You hummed in response. There was sound of a slight slip from the other line, you assumed that Ms. Han was drinking tea. " Make sure to deliver that presentation well. After that, I want you to attend the board meeting this afternoon on my behalf. Send them my sincere apologies for I have other more important business matters. "

So much for being trustworthy..

" Noted, Ms. Han. " Your ride finally came. Once it opened it's doors, you hopped in and tapped your card at a machine.

" Also, fix this week's schedule. Cancel everything on Friday, " Ms. Han added. You ended up seating at the very end of the bus, beside the window. It just happened to be the only row of seats that's vacant.

" Got it, Ms. Han. Anything else? "

" Ah, right. After the board meeting, take care of Eliza, " Her cat – you should've seen that coming. " Don't worry about the ride to my house, my driver will be picking you up. " She continued, taking one more sip at her tea. The ride was never a problem, but her cat is. Nevertheless, you accepted it since you both needed the job and money.

It didn't took that long until the conversation finally ended. When she hung up, you deeply sighed and looked out of the window. Spring was almost over, the atmosphere started to get colder. The cherry blossom trees began to slowly wither, every petal that has fallen decorated the road and sidewalk. It was both exquisite yet melancholic. Could you ever compare yourself as a cherry blossom? To bloom all over again yet someday, you'll wither once again. Possibly.

As you were gazing outside, your eyes widened as you saw someone else's reflection who sat beside you. His airpods plugged in his ears as he bobbed his head to the beat. You never knew or felt that his presence is already there, not until right now.

He's the same guy you meet each day whenever you took this bus. To be honest, he's eye-catching ever since the first time you saw him. He had the usual black outfit. Curly brunette headed, tall nose, dazzling dark brown orbs, lips — Okay, let's stop fawning over him. In conclusion, he has very well defined facial features. It was obvious that he's one of God's masterpiece, many should've envied him with that.

Despite of him always being your seatmate when the seat next to yours is vacant, you both never conversed with one another. Even with him having an eye for you from the start, no one even dared to start one.

Although, maybe today's a bit different.

The bus abruptly stopped in its tracks as the stop light just switched to red. The driver groaned and scratched the back of his neck.

At the back of the bus, there's you who is silently staring at the window. Awfully close to the window. However, when the bus hit the brakes, your forehead bumped onto the glass. " Ouch! " You groaned in pain as you held your forehead, checking if it bled and to ease the pain. The curly brunette noticed this and paused the music he's playing on the phone. He shifted in his seat to face you, " Are you okay? ". Your eyes met his worrisome ones and it made your heart skip a beat. He's more dashing when he's this close to you. It also made you more timid towards him that you began to stutter, " I- I guess I'm okay.. ".

" Let me see, " He reached out to your hand that's covering your forehead. His hand accidentally touched the sore part in the process, causing you to wince in pain. He whispered an apology before carefully taking your hand off and scan your forehead. He sighed in relief, " Thankfully, it wasn't such a big impact but it did turn red. You can place ice or put an ointment on it as soon as you get off, ok? " You responded with small nod and smile, your heart melting at his kindness.

He carefully placed his hand on your head and light pushed it back, gesturing you to rest. You gladly complied and he smiled, showing his dimples. It was cute, you thought.

" Does it still hurt? " He asked.

" A bit but bearable, " You replied, closing your eyes.

" How about a small talk to distract you from the pain? "

" Sounds good to me. "

" My name's Chan, you? "

" The name's (Y/N). It's nice to finally know you, Chan. "

And that's how everything started to blossom, at the end of Spring.

After that day, you started to anticipate what's going to happen on the next days that you never complained about the annoying beeping clock at dawn ever again. Especially and specifically, on the bus. Your mornings now start with you enthusiastically getting up and preparing for work. Chan happened to bring more interest into your life.

You don't know what kind of sorcery Chan does to always know how to remove your stress or just to make your days better in general. However, you don't mind it. Instead, you're really thankful for it.

You blossomed more in Fall, like a cosmos flower. You bloomed while the rest withered.

You excelled so much at work. The company was at its rough times, yet you handled everything outstandingly that you were praised by the whole company. Even Chan was happy for you, which mattered to you most.

" I knew you were exceptional ever since the beginning, " He murmured while hugging you securely, smiling. You, too, smiled brightly and blushed at that.

It's not only you who blossomed this fall. Your love, too, bloomed in Fall.

You never knew that the potential crush you had for Chan back when he was just a seatmate at the bus would grow. You fell head over heels for his giggles, smiles, kindness, goofiness, just for him. It keeps getting stronger as more time passes that you couldn't control it anymore. This was a first ever since you started working. You never really paid attention to your love life since work was always in the way. You're foreign to this feeling, you're clueless on how to handle it.

This love is the most amazing feeling, you'd be honest. Yet you fear that you'll be rejected or wouldn't be loved back. Then love would be the worst feeling.

Although, your faith and hope will never be taken away from you until the day hasn't came yet, until there's a possibility. You'll keep hoping on his small gestures you'd like to think are hints. You'll put your love for him in the hands of faith. And with that, you became patient with him. Waiting for the time that the true feelings will start to unveil.

______________________________

찬의

Channie

Hey (Y/N)

Are you done with work?

Almost

Why do you ask?

I'll pick you up, ok?

I'm on my way there.

'That's first, yet weird.

But I don't mind.'

Alright, be careful

Seen 7:02PM

______________________________

A month has passed, you two grew closer than ever. Yet occassionally, there would be a hint of awkwardness between the two of you. One would act weirdly, stutter or get nervous around one another. You hoped that it wouldn't ruin your friendship. You valued this friendship more than anything else.

Heading towards the front doors of this company, you could see Chan's figure on the other side. Waiting for you to come out. Once you did, he turned to face you and greet you with a sweet smile. You smiled back. " Let's go? " He said as he offered you his hand. You nodded and timidly took it into yours. That's another first.

Both of you exchanged the usual conversation. Asking about each other's day, telling short stories, joking once in a while, then some comfortable silence here and there, it felt just right. It's already dark out, the city light and streetlights being the only source of light, while the moon is having the pitch black sky to itself. The streets aren't as busy as it was in the daylight. You could hear the rustling and crunching of autumn leaves as it was carried by the wind or getting stepped on.

The two of you eventually reached the bus stop, taking a seat as you wait for a bus. " Do you know the number that bus has? " Chan asked out of the blue, eyes boring on the street. You hummed in confusion, he chuckled. " The bus we always took, especially in the mornings. "

" Ohh.. To be honest, I'm completely unaware of that. " You answered, scratching the back of your neck. Once more, he chuckled then gazed at you while your attention was somewhere else. A bus was coming in your peripheral vision. Once it was in front of you, you scanned for it's number. At the very end, it's written..

" 4419, " You turned to Chan, only to find him staring at you with adoration. You two stayed like that for a few minutes. His eyes were so soft, looking ever so luminous and sparkling underneath the light. He took out a flower he plucked from earlier, placing it behind your ear. Not even tearing his eyes away from yours. " Beautiful, like a cosmos flower, " He whispered, but it was enough for you to hear it clearly. You've felt like you're continously falling, yet Chan still has his grip on you. The same grip when he first held your hand back when you've bumped your forehead on the bus. Loving, gentle yet firm. Telling that he's willing to fall with you. " I love you, (Y/N). "

With just those 4 words, you were filled with so much joy and shock. You froze on your seat. For a second you panicked on what's the right word to say, asking if an I love you too was enough or is it already too redundant.

Although you knew that Chan's anticipating an answer as the clock continues to tick, and waiting is dreadful. Chan will love and cherish anything you say to him. Just the thought of you being truly his will bring him genuine happiness, and that's enough. No need for further more explanations. Then you've came to the conclusion, that there's no other words that best describes your true feelings for him. Simple yet genuine, " I love you too, Chan. "

Now, a love fully blossomed at the end of Falls.

End.

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