#i would use my tv but the walls are soooo thin and my hearings been very bad lately so it'd have to be loud | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caramarafics · 4 years

Text

Reckless (Seth Rollins)

Seth Rollins x OC Maya Grey One Shot

Warnings: just sad.

A/N: Soooo.... this has been in my drafts for awhile now and after some positive motivation from @royallyprincesslilly @thedeboniardevistation and @bigstrongblackheart I’ve just decided to post it.

Hope you like it.

AUGUST 23, 2015 11:27 PM

MANHATTAN, NY

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice came over the speaker to announce:

“You have arrived at the twenty-third floor.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, I watch as my aunt Isobel steps off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator towards me. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Come on cariña,” she whispers.

I nod my head and, with a heavy sigh and a push off the safety bar, I throw the thick strap of my Diva’s Championship over one shoulder and my gym over the other. I step off the elevator and into the waiting arms of my aunt and we begin our walk down the hall.

Isobel puts one hand on the swell of my back while the other pulls her suitcase. My gaze fell to the floor as we walked, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern while she scanned the placards on the wall looking for our room. Every so often I could feel her eyes practically burning a hole into me before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards.

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the Barclay Center over an hour ago I had barely said a single word. Not to her, to Roman, no one. I was catatonic and numb.

But who could blame me? After what just happened, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in my shoes.

As we made our way down the hall, I could feel my phone consistent buzzing through the thin fabric of Roman’s hoodie he had lent me back in Brooklyn. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

Call me crazy, but it almost felt like with every step I took, my phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Step, step, step.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Normally I would have answered it by now. But instead, I choose to ignore whoever it was and kept on.

We reached the very end of the hall and finally stopped in front of a door marked 1127. From the corner of my eye, Isobel pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slide it into the automated lock. A few short whirring, buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher me into the room. She follows right behind me, but not before grabbing the “Do Not Disturb” sign from behind the door and hooks it on the handle outside the room.

The door shuts and Isobel sees a small touchscreen wall panel placed by the door. She presses the button marked Lights and the overhead lights come on, revealing the room to us.

Placing my title belt on the dresser, I look around at what would be my new home for the next two nights. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room I’d stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard.

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows I have ever seen in my life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol.

The only thing that did make the room stand out from all the others, however, was the incredible view. A floor-to-ceiling window panel was centered on the main wall of the room and, because of our floor being leveled with the New York skyline, displayed a near perfect image of downtown Manhattan. There was even a clear view of the Empire State building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

Moving over towards the beds I toss my gym bag onto the one closest to the window and sit at the foot of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city I couldn’t help but think about how different my life was less than 24 hours ago. I was staying in Brooklyn with the rest of the WWE, getting ready for SummerSlam. I was in this beautiful hotel suite that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge with the love of my life, my fiancé. My bridesmaids and I had had our final fittings for our dresses, I was getting all the final details ready for my October wedding…

But that was all before a few hours ago.

Before everything had gone to complete and utter shit.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me? I thought to myself.

But before I could think of some sort of explanation, the sound of boots clanking across the hardwood floor followed by the thud of Isobel’s purse landing on top of the dresser next to my title.

“Well,” she says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and placing my chin on top, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.” I manage to mumble out.

“Fine?” she snorts, “Maya, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

I hear movement from behind me and see a light flick on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Maya you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Cariña the floors are heated!!”

But I don’t move. I don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, I just sit there in silence, holding myself as I gaze out into the city and its nightlife.

I observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while my mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape from my eyes as my subconscious began to torture me with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. My brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years of our life together.

It was desperate to find any little detail that I may have missed that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared me for what would eventually happen.

But I find nothing.

No hints, no little clues.

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Maya don’t be alarmed, but just two months before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé half naked with another woman.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t feel the bed dip or that Isobel was now sitting right behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when her hand found its way into my hair, softly playing with it and twirling the ends around her fingers. Another arm wrapped itself around my stomach to embrace me. My body quickly relaxes and I lean into her embrace, my head resting just above her chin. The hand that was in my hair moves to join the one around my stomach and I feel Isobel’s lips plant a soft, motherly kiss at the base of my temple as she gently rocked me.

I knew just how much it pained Isobel to see me like this; a deflated, catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly and vivacious niece. I’d barely said less than two sentences to her or to anyone else since we left the Barclays, just a few grunts here and there whenever somebody asked me anything. She probably had dozens of questions she wanted to ask right now; ‘are we canceling the wedding, where are you gonna stay, who does she need to call, what I actually wanted to do now,’ things of that nature.

But rather than bombard me with things that even I had no earthly clue how to answer, she said nothing and just held me.

Though she was my aunt and nearly seven years older than me, I often viewed her as the big sister I never had and the mother figure I had so desperately yearned for. She was my protector from bullies like Angela Ferrell in sixth grade after I had come home crying one too many times for her liking. Isobel pushed Angela face-first into the mud and threatened to shave her bald if she ever messed with me again.

When I reached the preteen stage and my body began to develop, she was the one who explained to me the so-called ‘joys’ of becoming a woman and who took me to the pharmacy to buy my first box of pads. She also, in a very detailed description, broke down the basics of sex and practically scarred me for life.

After Bryan Anderson gave me my first kiss in fifth grade, she was the best friend that I ran to her to spill all the juicy details. And when I was a junior and my first ever boyfriend Joaquin broke my heart for some varsity cheerleader, she picked me up and helped put the pieces back together with junk food and my favorite horror movies… only after we went and egged Joaquin’s truck.

Whether it was something as simple as helping me with my calculus homework, or something big as catching a red-eye flight from London to Houston just to watch me compete in my very last high school gymnastics invitational, there was never a moment in my life that I couldn’t rely on her to be there for me whenever I needed her the most.

And tonight, tonight was one of those moments when I definitely needed her.

We stayed like this in comfortable silence for what seemed like hours, just staring out into the night as she held me close to her. I feel her chin fall gently against my shoulder and her breath tickles at the side of my neck for a few minutes before she finally speaks.

“You feel like talking about it?” her voice just above a whisper.

I say nothing but shake my head.

Her lips press themselves gently against my cheek, hugging me a bit tighter as she does. “Ok, that’s fine. We don’t gotta talk about it tonight.”

“But,” she pauses, “What we should do right now is get some food. Cause I don’t know about you, but I am starving.”

Once again, I am silent. Intentionally I knew what she was trying to do. First, she would pump me with some of my favorite foods, maybe even some top shelf liquor, then after a few of the cheesiest and goriest slasher films she would happen to find on demand and I appeared to be in a neutral state, she would lay on the questions. It’s been her routine since I was 13 and about 80 percent of the time it usually worked. Sadly though, It’s unlikely that this particular problem could be easily fixed with takeout and Freddy Krueger.

She was right though. I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning and just the mention of food made my stomach growl.

“Tell you what... why don’t I order us some food, and while I do that you can take a shower and get cleaned up. ¿Suena bien?”

I thought it over for a little before eventually nodding my head in agreement.

“What do you wanna do; Chinese takeout, get a couple pizzas…?”

I look up, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Can we get both?”

A small laugh escapes her mouth, and she squeezes me again. “We can absolutely do both. I’ll even throw in a couple of those brownie sundaes I saw in that menu. While you shower, I’ll call the boys and see where they are with your stuff.”

I nod once more and with one final squeeze and forehead kiss from her, I remove myself from her embrace and slide off the bed. She follows and moves towards a conveniently placed touch screen panel near the window. I watch her press a button on the panel and, in an instant, large panels start to descend over the window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding Manhattan away for the rest of the night.

I grab my gym bag from off the bed and make my way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, I shut the door and lock it. Just as she said earlier, this truly was an incredible bathroom. A lot nicer than some I had had before. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors there were marble countertops, super soft Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary bathrobes with matching slippers, full-size bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & to top it all off, a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and about six square wall panels placed on both the front and back walls.

Setting the bag next to the sink I make my way over to the shower. On the outside wall was yet another touch screen panel solely for controlling the shower. I look it over for a few moments before finding an app that says ‘RAIN’ and press it. Instantly, the overhead panels come alive and water begins to rain down on the inside. I mess around with a few more buttons, adjusting the water temperature and whatnot, before finally moving away so that the water could warm up.

Back at the sink, I started to open my gym bag when I felt my phone once again start the incessant vibrating like before. But this time instead of ignoring it, I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and look at the screen.

The first thing I see is his profile picture followed by his name. It was one of my favorites of us together, taken almost a year ago at a mutual friend's Halloween party. We were dressed up as Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones, complete with three ‘dragons’ perched on my shoulders. I was looking at the camera but his eyes were fixed solely on me, a smile stretched across his face as he looked.

I watch the call stop and my home screen reappear with the notification bar.

Over a dozen missed calls and voicemails.

With a sigh I unlock my phone and scroll through the list of missed calls, seeing one name in particular more often than others.

Seth.

Renee.

Roman.

Seth.

Brie.

Nikki.

Seth.

Renee.

Nikki.

Seth.

Roman.

Seth.

Annoyed, I tossed my phone onto the counter, not caring where it landed or if it had smashed. I open my gym bag and go to pull out the set of post-match clothes I always kept handy, so I could change quickly out of my sweaty gear after any of my matches. But when I went to pull them out… nothing. Only my workout clothes from earlier, an extra set of bra and panties, deodorant, and sneakers.

Shit.

I look down at my body, currently covered in the giant hoodie.

Shit, shit, shit.

My suitcase, my clothes, my laptop… all of that is currently on its way from Brooklyn.

I forgot to pack my spare change of clothes.

And as if things couldn’t get any better... I’m still in my ring gear from my match earlier.

My eyes rolled to the back of my hand and my hand runs over my face, an annoyed chuckle escaping as I relish in my own stupidity.

Great. I thought. Just great. Good job there Maya.

Not wasting any more time, I throw off the hoodie and angrily start to undress. Starting from the bottom, I unlace my wrestling boots and set them next to the toilet. I remove my sweatpants and shimmy my way out of the custom wrestling shorts Isobel had made specifically for tonight. The matching top was next to come off and once over my head I let it fall to the floor next to my shorts, leaving me in just my sports bra and underwear.

The gear for tonight was all-white with intricate gold lines patterned along the sides, knees, and chest with four symbols faintly embroidered in white on each side; one was mine, the other Roman’s, then Dean’s, and finally… his.

For months, he’d been throwing the idea around of switching up his ring gear and trying out new colors aside from his usual black attire. And once Isobel had sketched up a white and gold version of his gear, he was beyond ecstatic to showcase it for his Title for Title Match at SummerSlam.

And when she had enough fabric left over from doing his gear she made a second set just for me.

“It’s kind of like your wedding dress,” she said to me. “Just in gear form. Hey, if you want I’ll even attach a veil to your butt and it can be your train.”

I quickly shake the memory from my head and free myself of what was left of my clothing. Grabbing two of the white bath towels placed underneath the sink, I set one on the back of the toilet and hanging the other on the hook placed next to the shower. I grab a bottle of complimentary body wash I open the shower door, and finally step inside.

I stand directly underneath, letting the warm water hit my skin and cascade around me and down my body. The splashing against the tile echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out my thoughts as they continued to torture me. Every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ we had ever said played on an endless loop in my head as I tried to pinpoint the moment that everything changed.

Meeting for the first time at that college bar back in NXT. That first kiss backstage in NXT that caught us both off-guard. The night he had told me for the first time that he loved me, which was followed up by the night we first made love.

I try to shake these thoughts from my mind, but it won’t work. No matter what I try to think about, no matter what other happy memory that doesn’t involve him, those memories are still all that play. A few stray tears push their way out but I quickly wipe them away.

No, I thought. You are not going to do this Maya. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

I reach over to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...

And that’s when I saw it. The tan line on my finger, now completely visible on my left hand that just a few hours ago bore my beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring.

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around in his suitcase for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come.

Until the night of WrestleMania, just mere seconds after winning his WWE World Heavyweight Championship, he would look over to Joey Mercury and trade him his newly won title for a small black box. He would get down on one knee and take my hand in his. And then, in front of Vince McMahon and everyone else currently occupying the Guerilla, would ask me to spend the rest of my life with him.

Now that hand was bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back to him after what had happened.

And just like that, my world came crumbling down. That false sense of reality I had created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and smacked me dead in the face.

Seth, my first love, the man I was set to marry in less than two months… had cheated on me. And I had caught him tonight.

Three years of my life, our life together, all gone in a flash. Our plans for the future, children, traveling the world… were all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true.

My legs carried me backward until my back hit the wall of the shower and I slid down. A wave of nausea swirls all around my empty stomach and my chest tightened like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob that left my mouth was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was just water from the showerhead.

My body sank more and more into the ground that before I knew it I had curled myself into a ball, crying into my chest as the water turned from warm to cold.

But I didn’t care. My head swam with half-formed regrets. My heart felt as if my blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat.

I was emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now enveloped me in swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.

END.

#seth rollins #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins x reader #reckless #cara writes #cara mara fics #wwe fandom #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction

85 notes · View notes

dearlazerbunny · 5 years

Text

Lie to Me (Ch 1 of ?)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 2200

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

If I don’t post what I already have it’s never going to get finished soooo have some Loki. Hovering around 20k rn But I still have a looooot left to write. If anyone is interested in beta-ing/helping me flesh out ideas hit me up!

“You.” You look up with a very good impression of a deer caught in headlights. The woman beckoning to you is clearly high up in the SHIELD hierarchy; her suit probably costs more than your entire life is worth. “Are you free?”

You glance down at the coffee you were supposed to be delivering to your coworkers. That could probably wait. “Um, yes ma’am?”

“Come with me.” She starts off in a brisk walk down the corridor, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. You follow without question, trying not to tug on your uniform too harshly in an attempt to break it in a little better. You still aren’t used to the issued clothing, considering you’ve worn the default uniform of hoodies and jeans of a college academic most of your life.

She herds you into a bare bones room, just a table and a few chairs. You stand until she gestures for you to sit, not sure why she’s even glancing your way. You’re a lackey, nothing more. Certainly not worth the attention of Maria Hill.

The woman tosses a folder onto then table, and it impressively lands squarely in front of you. “I’m assuming you’re aware of recent events?”

You raise an eyebrow. “If you’re referring to Manhattan, then yes. It’s been a bit hellacious around here.” Like there wasn’t a person on earth who hadn’t seen the footage of monstrous black aliens pouring out of a glowing portal in the sky. Everyone has been scrambling to control the situation that is blatantly so far out of their control they might as well be fighting sci-fi aliens with Neanderthal tools. It’d be amusing if it wasn’t so terrifying. “Are you with the clean-up crew?”

“Sort of.” She gestures to the folder and you open it. Inside are crystal-clear photos of Earth’s newly minted heroes and a horde of special agents escorting a raven-haired man into a transport vehicle. “Look familiar?”

You release a small breath. Intellectually, you know this is the man- god- who just tried to make himself king of humanity and threatened the entire Earth to do it. But that doesn’t stop the wonder and amazement from washing over you. Loki, Norse god of mischief, real and in the flesh. In the background you can see the golden-haired Thor, swinging his mythical hammer. Well, not exactly mythical, is it? It’s real. They’re real. All the gods and realms and monsters and mayhem that have captivated you since childhood and ultimately lead to multiple degrees on the subjects- they’re real. It’s absolutely incredible. “Yes,” you say, probably a little more wondrously that you mean for it to be.

“We’ve got Loki in custody.” She says his name so nonchalantly, like she isn’t referring to a thousands of years old immortal demigod of the golden realm of Asgard. “And we have no idea what to do with him.”

“And this has to do with me somehow?”

“Yes and no.” She sighs heavily, like she needed to be done with this shit a decade ago. “SHIELD is treating the prisoner with kiddie gloves. Fury wants every single loophole filled and locked down three times over. So we can’t just throw him in a deep dark hole and forget about him- he needs to be afforded certain… rights.” The tone of her voice implies she doesn’t agree with this sentiment.

“Like what?”

“Like company, while we sort out all the red tape so we can prosecute him properly.”

“Company.” You’re completely lost. “He needs a babysitter?”

That makes a small smile flick across her lips. “If you want to call it that. We’re not happy about it, believe me. It’s an undeniable risk. But the lawyers are demanding it, and god knows we have to keep the lawyers happy.” A pinch appears between your eyebrows. You don’t like where this is going. “So. Will you do it?”

“Me?” You squeak, then immediately try to get yourself under control. “Why me? I was literally hired a month ago, I have no qualifications to do anything like this-”

She holds up a hand. “We know. That’s the point. All you need to do is sit in his cell for a few hours every day and pretend to look interested in whatever he’s rambling about. If he talks; he’s been completely silent since we picked him up. Take a book and a few snacks with you, don’t let him schmooze you into doing anything traitorous, and you’ll be fine. Plus,” she continued, “with your background we figured you’d be at least mildly interested.”

Damn. They’ve got you there. Several masters’ in mythology along with years of a childlike fascination means you’ve been ridiculously curious about Earth’s new visitors ever since Mjolnir landed in New Mexico. The spark in your eyes must have been obvious, because Agent Hill holds out a slender hand. “Have we got a deal?”

And so, not hours later, you find yourself wandering into the depths of SHIELD’s base. “Hi there.”

The room is depressingly stark and sterile- you thought you’d gotten used to being surrounded by the chrome and weird futuristic plastic that are apparently now the only two building materials left on Earth since starting at SHIELD, but this place takes it to a whole new level. And it’s newly constructed, based on the smell of drying concrete and fresh shavings peeling up around the screw holes in the corners. There’s a small, utilitarian metal desk and chair that’s been provided for you in the center of the room, so you drop your notepad and pencil onto the tabletop with a clang and pull out the chair. It screeches painfully against the floor, making you wince. Okay, no more of that. You suck in your stomach and slide in between the table and chair so neither have to move. A little tight, but you can make it work.

The other man in the room, framed behind a wall of glass, has not reacted to any of this.

He looks exactly how he did on TV, minus the leather armor and extravagant gold horned helmet. It’s all been replaced with the thin grey uniform SHIELD deems prison garb. You have to admit, he looks a lot less intimidating sitting pale and silent against the wall, handcuffs glowing faintly around his wrists.

“Um- can you hear me?”

Still no response. He doesn’t even seem to notice you’ve entered the room. Uuuuuuum, okay... There’s a microphone attached to the desk. You lean into it, frowning, fiddling with a few of the dials at the base. Then you tap on it and speak directly into the mic. “Can you hear me?” The man flinches wildly, a radical break in his composure, and his eyes dart to you angrily. “Oh, gosh, sorry, okay, let me-” you turn the dial down a few notches. “Better?”

The volume doesn’t seem to be at max level anymore- he doesn’t flinch again- but he also doesn’t say anything else. “I’m going to need verbal confirmation that you can hear me.”

He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t seem to be looking at anything. His gaze is focused on some middling thing opposite of him, something invisible on the horizon, but he’s hardly glazed over- emerald eyes are bright and sharp, flickering lightly. They are not the eyes of a defeated man, far from it. More like one who has about fifteen thousand and twenty three plans all running through his head at once.

You suppose that should scare you, but SHIELD has reassured you that the cell is one of the most technologically advanced cells they’ve ever constructed. Also, those cuffs have some sort of magic-diffusing abilities, so no funny business there. Then again, he did basically destroy all of Manhattan, like, less than a week ago. You hadn’t even been in that part of the country at the time, SHIELD had called you in from D.C., but you can still feel the horror grip your chest in a vice watching skyscrapers fall to tatters on the news-

“Yes.”

His voice is so soft you almost don’t catch it. It pulls you from your thoughts nonetheless. “Oh. Okay, great.” You pull your pencil to you and neatly label the first page of your notepad with today’s date in the top corner. If you were going be stuck with him, you might as well take notes. Think of the papers you could publish! “Can you please, uh, state your name for the record?” That sounded professional, right? You’ve heard it on Law and Order a lot, anyways.

The prisoner raises one eyebrow slowly. “Really?” He draws out that one word into a three-second attack of sarcasm, but you simply shrug your shoulders.

“It’s protocol.”

“I am Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies.” With every title he spits from his mouth, his eyes flash dangerously.

“O-kay.” You jot that down on your notepad, giving it an underline for good measure. “And how would you like to be addressed?”

“Your highness.” He says it as easily as he might’ve said Bob or Ricky.

You blink. “Um. Not sure that’s within my pay grade, but we’ll see how it goes.”

“Where am I?”

“A very secure holding cell,” you answer confidently, and the god scowls at you. He’s apparently waiting for more information, but you shake your head- “that is literally all the information I’m allowed to give you about that.” You glance up at the camera tacked to the ceiling of the room. “Also, you’re being recorded at all times. Gotta tell you that for legalities sake.”

“SHIELD has always so been worried about legalities.”

That gets a small snort from you, and you tap the end of your pencil on your paper. “So-”

“Who are you, exactly?” He suddenly sounds very, very tired, and a little angry, like he’s already done humoring you. “And why are you bothering me?”

“Y/N.” You give him a little wave, since you obviously can’t shake his hand. “I’m a, well- archivist, of sorts. SHIELD brought me in to talk to you.”

“And you’re, what? Fury’s pet?”

“Hardly. I’ve been here less than a month. I don’t think this uniform has even been washed yet.”

Another eyebrow raise. “An interesting choice to interrogate their most wanted prisoner.”

You tap a little more frantically. “I think it’s so if you end up getting into my head, I won’t be able to give anything up,” you say thoughtfully. There’s a huff over the speakers you’re hearing him through. “Also, this isn’t an interrogation.”

“No?”

“Nope. I’m not really qualified for that.”

“Then what are you qualified for?”

“Jeg snakker norsk,” you offer, honestly wondering that question yourself. The look he gives you is a mixed amount of horrified and amused. “They thought it might be helpful speaking in a familiar language, I guess?”

“They do know I can speak literally hundreds of thousands of languages spanning any galaxy you care to name,” he says, apparently stunned by the new heights of SHIELD’s stupidity.

You sigh. “Yeah. I thought it was a stupid idea too.”

“This is laughable.” He’s on his feet now, close to the glass and staring you down threateningly. “Why have I not been removed to Asgard? They will presumably want to prosecute me for my crimes.”

“Um, I think they’re planning on it. But they want me to, um, talk to you first.”

“About what.”

“Well. Anything you want, really.”

“I have nothing to say to you mortals,” he spits, and the word splats on the ground like it’s a curse.

“That’s cool, I get that. But right now all the bureaucrats are running themselves in circles trying to figure out what to do with you, and all that red tape is going to take some time to untangle. In the meantime, they want to make sure you don’t go crazy from the solitude or something.”

“Since when has SHIELD cared about my well being?”

“I mean, you’ve still got rights and stuff. You can’t just sit here for who knows how long with only yourself for company.”

“And why not?”

“Wouldn’t you get lonely?”

“Forgive me, but I hardly think you are going to provide any sort of adequate mental stimulation.”

Geez, way to hit below the belt. “You can request someone else if you want. They pretty much just picked me out of a lineup and threw me on you, I don’t really think they care who sits here with you.”

“What would be the point? SHIELD only hires imbeciles and fools.”

“Well, then. I guess you’re stuck with me for a while.”

The man slumps back, apparently not encouraged by your words. Then he punches the wall with one of his restrained hands and screams angrily in clear frustration.

This is going to go so well.

A/N: Jeg snakker norsk = I speak Norwegian

194 notes · View notes

closetcasefabray · 5 years

Text

new clexa NY au idea based on life & also so i don’t hate my fucking neighbor.

i live in an old ass building with thin walls. my roommate & i can be really loud, we acknowledge that.

the first time our neighbor knocked on our door there was a west coast mets game & it was 11pm when we got a knock on the door. ok fair.

second time me & my roommate & his gf were watching john wick 2 at like midnight & the dialogue is a fucking whisper so it was turned up & then (spoiler) his house fucking explodes & the sound system my roommate has is intense so when we immediately heard a knock after, again, fair.

the third time, my roommate got out of work early so he was getting ready to meet with his gf earlier & we celebrated him not working a double (he works 60 hours a week between two demanding jobs, just finished 21 days streak without a day off) & so we were dancing around to Janelle Monae at 3:30pm ON A FRIDAY & THEN THERE WAS A KNOCK ON THE DOOR. she was in her PJs & asked us to turn it down. like bish WHATS YOUR SCHEDULE WHEN ARE WE ALLOWED TO HAVE FUN????

apparently two nights ago A&E (roommate & gf) were watching TV & at like 11pm my neighbor came knocking & my roommate just shouted through the door to go away lol. his gf was like “i know we can be loud but we were seriously just watching TV.” so my roommate just loudly said “no more TV. guess we can go have loud sex???!!”

so basically our neighbor needs to evaluate where she’s living bc we also live next to a major route with overnight trucks constantly laying on their horns & it’s just NY. we’ve been on eggshells ever since this all started. my roommate even rerouted the audio so we can watch movies after 11pm without the sound system & with just the tv speakers.

but i was just thinking about au’s to not be pissed at this girl & a past clexa week prompt for enemies to (friends to) lovers came to mind & while i am not at all attracted to my neighbor i love the idea of clexa neighbors.

so NY Neighbors AU!

lexa’s one year into getting her phd in political science. frat boy!clarke works in a restaurant to afford making art in her free time (though she hasn’t been making enough in her opinion). she lives with raven, smoking & drinking a ton of beer based on the recycling lexa always hears them lug out. she also hears clarke & raven singing & dancing to janelle monae & lizzo.

plus to tie it into my other NY au i never got around to, clarke gets drunk after work one night & ends up in a shared cab with lexa. lexa mom arms her when the cab comes to an abrupt stop. but bc they don’t get along, clarke refuses to admit how fucking endearing it was.

one night during midterms lexa hears music & ppl over clarke’s apartment. she knocks on their door for like the fourth time but it’s raven’s bday so raven drunkenly shoves a beer in lexa’s hand & invites her into the party even though lexa’s in sweats & clarke just happens to look really fucking gorgeous. she drinks the beer to be polite & is introduced to their gang. she knows lincoln from her gym. (he’s in grad school to become a physical therapist so he works there part-time.) monty & jasper made pot brownies, so clarke is maybe a little high & maybe smiles more at lexa than she ever would sober. raven shoves another beer in lexa’s hand & tells her to stay “let loose, girl. you’re either going to join the party or be mad about hearing the party.” so a little later octavia finds lexa admiring a painting on the wall & tells lexa that clarke’s the artist.

later when lexa goes to say bye to clarke, she walks in on clarke in only her underwear making out with niylah. she awkwardly apologizes & leaves.

the next day lexa slips an apology note under clarke’s door. an hour later clarke shows up with a coffee & milk & sugar on the side & a cup of tea in case she doesn’t like coffee. lexa takes the tea bc she’s particular about her coffee & she swore if she said she only takes coffee with almond milk, clarke was going to go get some.

clarke ends up having lexa write down her schedule. “raven & i can be loud & we don’t work normal hours & we both work a lot so when we see each other we want to hang out. sometimes it ends up being noisier than expected. but we can try to keep it down when you have a lot to do.” & lexa kinda smiles & says, “so no more of raven doing impressions of tom waits at four am?” & clarke cringes “sorry. she’d gone out with octavia & her brother & brought them back. if it’s any consolation she woke me up too.”

clarke brings lexa tea the night before she has to hand in a draft for a thesis (it was on the schedule!). they talk for a bit & when clarke goes to throw out lexa’s tea cup she sees empty coffee cups & demands an explanation. clarke eventually finds out which coffee shop & brand of almond milk lexa prefers.

clarke meets lexa’s roommate/cousin, anya. anya’s hardly around bc she travels for her job a lot. also just got out of a messy relationship so she’s purposely traveling a lot. anya thinks clarke’s a bratty hipster kid for a hot second, but she also sees how her cousin looks at clarke.

lexa hears clarke & niylah laughing as they climb the steps of the apartment after a night out. she’s grateful for the music bc she didn’t want to hear them hook up.

clarke knocks on lexa’s door & asks if she wants to go to the beach on the 4th of july. “you really don’t have anyone else who wants to go?” & clarke just shrugs, “a lot of my friends are working, but i wanted to ask you.”

ok more later bc long post but mobile doesn’t let me do “read more” soooo...

#ccf headcanon #ccf #ny neighbors au #nn au #ccf rambles #clexa au

4 notes · View notes

closetspngirl · 6 years

Text

Love Heals the Soul (Part 14) - Sleepover (Jensen’s POV)

Summary: Jensen stays the night...but things don’t go as planned...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 1654

Warnings: fluff, rated-G sleepover, nightmares (nothing graphic), panic/stress, let me know if there’s anything else

A/N: I am soooo sorry that I was still being lazy. I need to get back into the swing of things. Feedback is always welcome! Italicized are lyrics, POV thoughts or text conversations; you can tell by the context.

Jensen’s POV

I can’t lie and say I wasn’t thrilled when Y/N invited me in for dinner after driving her home; anything to get to spend a little more time together, and actually be alone without having to be anywhere. She lived in a cute little area in Kitsilano, one of the areas I liked to drive through. When we got to her apartment, I grabbed her bag and we headed inside while I tried to contain my excitement for this spur of the moment evening.

Stepping into her apartment I was pleasantly surprised, it was nice and warm and inviting, and fit Y/N perfectly. It was an open floor concept, the kitchen and living room only separated by the placement of the island and couch. She had a lot of neutral colors, greys and whites, with a few colored accents. Anyone could tell that she was a chef of some sort, being that her kitchen looked like that of a restaurant. Metal shelving lined with baking equipment, measuring cups, mixing bowls and scales. There was even one of those hanging pot and pan holders over the island. Containers lined the counter of different ingredients and dry food items; neatly organized and labeled.

After Y/N took my jacket and poured me a drink and said that I could pick the movie. She wasn’t a fan of the ones I had suggested, mentioning something about adding to the already frequent nightmares. So that is what I heard the other morning. But before I could ask, she suggested an 80s cult classic, which I could agree with. I went to the living room to pick out a movie and as I made my way there I stopped and looked at the photos that lined her walls, only able to guess at who the people in them were. There were a few obvious ones of her and Briana, a couple from their college days in theater. Are they dressed up as Rizzo and Frenchie? I chuckled to myself at that one. I saw a few others with an older couple, the man in a dress uniform, guessing that they were her parents.

My eyes fell on another, Y/N and a guy that couldn’t have been more than a couple years older. It looked to be from her college graduation, she was in a cap and gown, both of them with big smiles on their faces, like they had been laughing about something right before. This must be her brother. There were a few more of her family all together and a few more of just her and her brother. After looking over the photos, I grabbed the remote and switched on Netflix.

I had to laugh at myself when I saw that ‘Supernatural’ was her last watched show. “So…Sam or Dean?” I asked over the back of the couch with a laugh, but she steered me away from that question, with an obvious blush in her cheeks. It’s so adorable when she blushes like that.

I settled on ‘Back to the Future’ just as Y/N came out and leaned on the couch. “Do you mind if I go change? I’m kind of over wearing jeans,” she asked me. “Not at all.” She came out a few minutes later in leggings and another of the hoodies she was running in this morning. It’s almost as if her whole demeanor has changed, now that she’s home and comfortable. I love seeing this side of her. She brought me out of my thoughts when she said that dinner was ready.

Spaghetti. It’s such a simple thing, but what Y/N made was absolute perfection. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped when I took the first bite, it was just so delicious. After basically saying that she could cook a better meal with more planning, I invited her over for dinner the next time, which she happily agreed to.

After we finished, she cleaned up the dishes and kitchen, not letting me help despite the numerous offers I gave her. She poured us another drink and we went back to the couch to watch the rest of the movie. She curled into me as I wrapped my arm around her, welcoming her warmth and touch. We finished our drinks and I put our glasses on the coffee table with Y/N shifting down to lay her head in my lap.

My arm was on her side next to hers and I could feel her breathing start to slow, as she no doubt was falling asleep on me. I didn’t dare move or try to wake her, she looked so peaceful, so I let the movie keep playing. The credits started, at which point I tried to gently wake her, to no avail. “Y/N…sweetheart,” I whispered, quickly realizing that I was going to have to move her to bed. I gently picked her up, loving how she felt so close to me; I walked into her room and laid her down, pulling the thick comforter over her. I kissed her on her head, so as to not wake her, telling her that I would let myself out. I don’t want to leave her, she looks so calm and relaxed, and I wish I could stay. But I don’t want to scare her by being too forward.

I started to leave her room when I heard her stir, “Jen?” I turned back and walked over to her, “Yeah sweetheart?” I asked quietly, not really sure how awake she was. Eyes still closed and seemingly completely asleep, all she said was, “Stay”. It was dark, and she was asleep, so I didn’t have to hide the smile that made its way to my lips. “Of course. I’ll be back in a minute.”

I left her to go lock the door, turn off the lights and the TV, grabbing a glass of water to put on her nightstand. As I went back to her room, I quietly took my jeans and socks off and climbed in bed. I wasn’t sure how close she’d let me be to her as I got in bed; I felt her move closer to me until her back was right up against my chest, fitting so naturally. I wrapped my arm around her waist holding her as close as I could, my face in the crook of her neck. I kissed her shoulder, able to smell her faint perfume, whispered goodnight one more time and drifted off to sleep.

---

I was woken up from Y/N stirring about in my arms. Still in the same positions that we had fallen asleep in, I fully woke up when I realized that she was struggling trying to get away from me, only to notice that her eyes were still closed. Oh no, she’s having a nightmare. I don’t want to startle her if I wake her up suddenly, but I don’t want her to stay wherever she thinks she is. It was a split second before I let my hold on her go, trying to wake her gently.

“Shhh….Y/N. Y/N, sweetheart…open your eyes.” I tried over and over. She was making noises, almost as if she was trying to talk, and tears started forming. Trying one more time to coax her out of her sleep, a little firmer this time, “Y/N, you’re dreaming, wake up baby.” All of a sudden she shot up with what was a mix of a gasp and a scream, while trying to catch her breath. She seemed confused at first, staring at me with wide, tear filled eyes, assuming because I had been in bed with her. Maybe she doesn’t remember asking me to stay?

Both of us sitting up at this point, I took her hand in one of mine and wiped the hair off of her forehead with the other, noticing the thin layer of sweat. “Are you ok, Y/N?” I asked quietly, afraid of scaring her. All she could manage was to shake her head yes, looking down at her lap. “You’re warm, do you want to change into a different shirt to help you cool down?” I asked her. All I got in response was another nod as she took off the sweatshirt to leave her in the tank top that was underneath.

It seemed she had finally realized what had happened although the tears had been falling since waking up, letting out a defeated sounding sigh. Y/N started to lie back down so I followed suit, waiting to see if she wanted space or not. I threw the comforter down and just pulling up the sheet to try to help her cool off. I was relieved when she chose to curl back into me, facing me this time, but heartbroken when she kept crying gently.

Barely audible, I heard her mumble, “It was so terrifying. I was so scared. Jen, I didn’t know what to do.” She clutched to my shirt, as if to make sure she knew I was still there, a real thing. All I could do was rub her back and her head, trying to calm her, repeating that it would be ok, without having any real way to help her. Out of nowhere, I started singing Ben E King’s ‘Stand By Me’ quietly; so quietly in fact that I wondered if she could even hear it.

If the sky that we look upon Should tumble and fall And the mountain should crumble to the sea I won't cry, I won't cry No I won't shed a tear Just as long as you stand, stand by me

I could only hope that it would help Y/N relax, relief washing over me when it seemed to calm her. I could feel the crying stop and her breathing slow once again. I drifted off shortly after; keeping my arms around her not wanting to ever let her go.

Tags: @maralisa124 @somilotopia @delightfullykrispypeach @steffiemeheus @lizwinchester16 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @mystrie @supernatural-lover-teamfreewill @cats-are-untrustworthy @superromijn @gifsforgomez @sherlock44 @life-through-the-lenss @1233088 @fandomloveyeah

#love heals the soul #jensen x reader #spn

21 notes · View notes

spectralghost13 · 4 years

Text

Pearlescent and Gold

( this is a shorter story I wrote for a writing course, it is gorey and dark, trigger warning for drugs and mutilation. If you want to read feel free to continue! I’d love to hear feedback! 💚)

The night sky loomed overhead pitch black and shining like diamonds, hidden by the trees and buildings with the lamp posts' light accentuating the leaves. Cobblestone paths lining the road coated in a thin layer of glitter following the party that occurred earlier that day. The party in the streets was to celebrate the final capture, arrest, and conviction of the notorious “pearly” serial killer, the man who killed 13 local women over the course of a year. Now that he had been done away with all felt safe once again in their small town of Windrip.

With the newfound security filling the town parties are more abundant than ever as ladies feel safe going out again at night. It is at one of these parties I found myself today.

I was dressed in a pearlescent suit, pearl jewelry set, and black button up. The theme was precious materials to honour the victims of The Pearly Killer, I chose pearl, but many were wearing silver or reds to represent garnets or rubies, one thing we all had in common were thematic masks worn on our faces. Everyone looked beautiful, but one girl stood out on the dance floor. Golden and bright she danced, light on her feet and nimble she moved from side to side, changing dancing partners every few minutes. The dance floor was a blur of colours but the only one I truly cared about was her. Regardless of how breathtaking she was and how desperately I wanted to dance with her I stayed to the side, silently watching and sipping my champagne.

“ Soooo, ya come here often?” a sultry voice asked in a playful tone.

I jumped, not expecting anyone to have noticed, let alone talk to me. I turned to see a man, also in white, holding a glass, ebony hair slicked back, and a smile donning his face, icey eyes staring into mine.

“ No, I don't actually,” I sipped the champagne, bubbles filling my mouth before burning their way down my throat. “ I much prefer the library, it's far quieter.” A smirk playing on my lips as I glanced between him and the dance floor, although I lost the girl in gold. Damnit.

“ Ohh the Library ya say? Ya consider ya’self a bit of an intellectual do ya?” a mischievous tone in his voice, it made my gut churn and my palms sweat.

“ Yes. The library. Where the books are. And people leave you alone when you are alone. And no, I don't consider myself an ‘intellectual’, I consider myself a college student. Now if you'll excuse me-” I moved to push past him but he turned in to me, blocking me further.

“ Oh come on, ya aren’t goin’ to leave me hangin’ are ya?” his lax body language angered me more so than anything, couldn’t he see I was done with the conversation?!

“Yes. I am. Now if you'll excuse me!” shoving him out of the way I tried to ignore his remarks as I made my way to the dance floor. I couldn’t wait anymore to try to find that gorgeous girl in gold.

The people on the dancefloor were absolutely buzzing, their voices drowning out the music, their bodies holding the beat regardless. A whir of colour moving around me as I searched the crowd. It was so hot, the movement around me causing sweat to form on my brow and leading me to loosen my shirt collar. Nowhere on the dancefloor could I find her. Many a person pulled me to dance, regardless I’d pull away and continue my search.

Once I went outside… I found her. Shimmering in the moonlight, leaning against the brick, she was there, chest rising and falling in rhythm, eyes closed. She was even prettier up close… so close…

I watched as my hand reached out to touch her, getting ever closer to her shoulder. I could feel her heat, so close to my fingertips. So nearly there. When she looked over, I jumped as her eyes shot open and she gasped. The shock on her face eased into a deep sigh, clutching her chest she took several deep breaths.

“ Holy shit you scared me!” she laughed quietly, leaning back again to the wall and sliding down slightly. “ Did you need anything?” The smile on her face spoke more words about who she was than anything she did at the party. It was tender, kind, and loving. I could feel my cheeks set alight and my walls melt under the gaze of her tawny eyes, golden hues surrounding them accenting their depths.

“ Yeah… yeah. You look amazing tonight… my name is Lyna Mckay,” I extended my hand to her, hoping for the best.

“ Maria May,” she took my hand and gave it a shake, her hands were so soft… “ And thank you, I tried,” she moved a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling at me with near perfect teeth shining white. She was so beautiful.

“ Would you like to, maybe ditch this party and come hang out? You don't have to, but I'm done with this party, and it seems like you are too, so…” I met her eyes and smiled, gently holding on to her hand.

She seemed… apprehensive, biting her lip and looking down before lifting her head and nodding. She gripped my hand and off we went, a local coffee shop was still open so... that's where we went.

The coffee shop had that small-town cottagecore aesthetic to it. Cobbled brick exterior, floral tablecloths, pastel neutral colours dotted everywhere, and that calming smell of oatmeal and cinnamon buns in the air. It was quiet, just the soft piano music from the radio on the counter balanced it out, it was a far cry from the frenzy of dancing and socializing people at the party. The owner of the shop, an elderly lady with kind wrinkles surrounding her mouth and years of laughter in the corners of her eyes came to greet us and take our orders. Maria got hazelnut light roast on ice, two cream, three sugar. I went for a classic black coffee.

“ You should try the cinnamon buns here, they’re to die for,” I grinned at her, taking my coffee from the owner’s wrinkled hands “Trust me on that.”

“ Maybe I will,” she laughed, it was as melodic as her voice, a tinkling in the soft piano melody. Her nose crinkled when she laughed, it was cute.

That’s where we stayed for roughly an hour. In the meantime I slipped something into her drink, she didn’t notice of course. Too busy laughing and telling me about herself, too flavourful of a drink to taste the subtle change. I watched her eyes droop as she got drowsier, the drug taking affect. Her speech slurred and she held her stomach and winced.

“ I… don’t feel so good. I should-” she paused and I could see her hold back a gag “ I should go home,” she moved to start getting up and I zipped out of my chair to her side.

“ Here, let me help you. I'll get you home. Where do you live?” I extended a hand to her, and she took it. I helped her up and lead her out of the restaurant, leaving a twenty on the table before we left.

“2432, Queens lane, apartment 3,” I watched her face contort as she quietly retched, losing her footing slightly in her heels. I grasped her arm gently to support her as we made our way through the streets. The cobblestones shifted to sidewalks and roads, dew coating the grass and glinting in the light of the street lamps. Her apartment complex was just your basic one, brick exterior with outdated carpet flooring that was probably too tedious to properly maintain anyways. She lead the way to her apartment, down the stairs and to the right.

She fumbled with the keys for a moment, holding back throwing up before unlocking the door and bolting to the bathroom, bumping into a cupboard or dresser in the dark. I quietly turned on the lights and stepped in, shutting the door behind me and removing my shoes. I could hear her throw up into the toilet, the sound of a full stomach emptying itself with a sickening splash, followed by hoarse coughing and more vomit into the bowl. I looked around the room while she was preoccupied. Just a bachelor suite. A double bed pressed into the corner of the room with a white duvet spread over it, not to mention the ridiculous amount of pillows on it. A small table was across the room from that, a small kitchenette beside that, and a tv placed near the edge of the bed, essentially boxing it in.

She emerged from the bathroom moments later, paler, with golden lipstick smudged across her face, small trails of mascara from her eyes. She’d removed her heels and looked mildly defeated shoulders slumped and a pitiful expression on her face. She sat on the bed and laughed sadly.

“ I promise I'm not usually like this,” she shot me an anxious smile. Even looking this sickly she was a beacon of beauty.

Sitting beside her on the bed and removing my suit jacket I wrapped an arm around her delicate frame, she was shaking and her skin felt warm to the touch.

“ I believe you, maybe the alcohol isn’t sitting right?” I moved to kiss her forehead, the ‘question’ holding in the air with weight.

“ Yeah.. Maybe,” her voice wavered and I watched her eyes flutter slightly as she slumped against me. She’s just… so perfect. So perfect… I couldn't pass up an opportunity like this.

I did another look over of her room, she was slumped against my chest gently, breathing softly. Not quite asleep but not quite awake either. I caress her cheek gently as I find just what I was looking for, peeking out from under the bed. A bat.

She mumbled something under her breath just as my fingers wrapped around the base of the handle. Cold metal greeted my fingertips as I pulled it up towards my side, keeping it out of her view. Didn’t want to work her into a tizzy now did we? Her hands gripped onto my shirt tightly, her breath falling out of the pattern it had before. Bat in hand I looked at her again. She was so gorgeous.

I stood up from my spot on the bed much to her complaints. Turning the bat I prepared to swing, best to strike before she can move or scream to get away. The bat collided with her skull, just behind the temple, with a ringing metallic noise. The feeling of crunching bones beneath the metal as her skull caved in and skin broke. A frightened gasp escaped her lips before she fell limp, blood starting to ooze down her neck and mingle with her hair. Now that she was incapacited I could have a bit of fun.

Walking to her kitchen, rummaging through the drawers until I found just what I was looking for, the carving knife. After pulling it from the drawer I approached her at the bed, setting my tool near her. She was so pretty… I couldn’t wait to see her all bloody and gored up. I searched through my purse for the pliers kept in there, past the lip gloss and tide pens until it was in my hand once again. Taking its place beside the carver I looked at her one last time before I made her a masterpiece.

Her chest was still rising and falling with her breaths, but that made it all the more fun. Grabbing the pliers I gave them a firm squeeze before prying her jaw open and taking a look around at her pearly whites. The pliers in my grasp I went for the first tooth. Grabbing it firmly with them I tugged it back roughly, squeezing the gum just above the visable part of the tooth. One sickening crack later and it was in my hand, gum still clinging stubbornly. With a grin I went right back in for the next tooth, a crack and another pearl pulled from the clam that was her mouth. 32 of the precious bones in my hands shining under the overhead lights. Blood filling her mouth and congealing. I grabbed the knife, checking its serrated edge to make sure it was sharp before lifting her tongue. She let out a soft gurgley groan as I started to saw at the muscle inhabiting her mouth. It oozed blood at the first draw through and the blades tore up the flesh underneath them. Once I cut the final bits out I pulled it out with my hand, blood oozing from the roughly cut edge of the muscle, torn bits of flesh hanging from it. In her hands I lay the tongue I cut from her, cradled alongside the teeth I ripped from her mouth shining like pearls.

I left her where she was, against her bed, bloody and starting to congeal. Heading to Maria’s dresser and sorting through her clothes I grab a dark skirt and go to change into it. Replacing my white pants with a black skirt as to not stain it anymore than the few splatters of blood dotting the lap. Heading back to her one last time.

Mahogany and gold stain everything about her. Her hair, golden blonde and shining in the dim light, mingling gold and deep reds in a tragic halo around her gorgeous face. Golden eyeshadow falling around her eyes, golden lipstick smudged but still shimmering, leaking blood in gelatinous clumps. Her golden dress draped around her frame, blood crusting on it. Everything about her was touched by Midas, beautifully tragic, coated in gold and gleaming like tears in his eyes at the realization of what he had done to his daughter.

I looked down at her, she was so foolish. It was all so poetic wasn’t it? Even in death her beauty surpasses her.

I reached down to touch her face, caressing her cheek gently. Her skin was so soft… I leaned down closer to her face and slide my fingers into her eye socket. Gripping her eyeball and pulling it out. She makes the softest of sounds, just barely holding on from the blood filling her throat, now a dark ooze that once was hers. I pull her eye out as far as I can, her optic nerve stretching and straining. I took the knife to it, slicing and tugging to tear the nerve before slicing again and repeating the process. Her other eye getting the same treatment, the blood from them dripping onto the floor and all over her body. I hold one in each hand, holding the one in my right above Maria as I dug my finger through the sclera, popping and squeezing it out before dropping it on her. Even now I can't ignore the warm fuzzy feeling it caused in my chest.

Taking the knife to her throat I dragged it along her skin causing blood to gently bead to the surface, a necklace of ruby pearls dripping down and mingling with its already congealed counter parts. She’s just so, so beautiful. Pressing harder this time into her soft flesh, blood gushing as I hit her jugular vein. She looked so ravishing drenched in her own blood.

Wobbling to my feet the giddiness struck me like an arrow to the chest. Soft fits of giggles exiting my mouth as I made my way to the sink, washing the blade and my hands before splashing frigid water on my face. The cool droplets calming me down before I went to change one last time before making my way out.

Before leaving I made my way over to her for the last time. Picking three of her teeth out of her blood coated hands and inspecting their smooth white appearance a grin spread on my face. Looks like it’s time to add a few more pearls to my jewelry set.

I’d better get started soon though, we’re going over some of my “pearly” killings in forensics class tomorrow and well… I surely don’t want to be late to that.

#writing #original fiction #gore #horror #mutilation #dark theme #tw: drugs #tw: mutilation #tw: murder #dark fiction

0 notes

kaitlinmcandrews · 7 years

Text

Wow, finally, the time has come! Strap yourself in, this is going to be a long one. I have to cut it into two halves or else it would be like a novel. Now, it’s just have a novel. A short story, if you will.

In August, Patrick’s parents and family friend came to Japan for about a month. Pat’s brother didn’t make it this time, but there was still five of us again. This trip went a lot smoother, in my opinion, than their trip to Korea. To be fair, Japan is a bit more foreigner friendly (the food and culture is not as crazy-different as Korea was) .

Also, I’m not sure how to really explain this… but… uh… I guess since we weren’t going to an island that I know I would never visit again, I felt more okay with being flexible. So, perhaps it was because last time they visited us, we didn’t know how to be tour guides. It could have also been because we knew that we would probably NEVER go to Jeju ever again. Or, it could have been because Jeju was actually much more different from mainland Korea than we thought it would be.

What I’m getting at is that when Pat’s family came to see us in Korea, we had an awesome time, but we also had some hiccups along the way. This time, however, it seemed that our excursions went fairly smoothly?

So, if you can remember, we were working for an Eikaiwa (a Japanese private school) and had limited time off. Actually, during this time, we were preparing to move for our new job in Yokohama. Wow, I’m distracted. Do you care about our schedule? Probably not…. Oh well, sucks to be you, I’m going to talk about it anyway….So, I shall continue. We worked until the day that Pat’s parents came to Japan. We figured that this would be perfect! Actually, we were pretty clever with our yearly vacation days and were able to use them at the tail end of our work period. In other words, we only physically worked for one extra week, but we got paid for an additional 10 days of work. We got basically half of our August pay!

Annoyingly, though, this made things so much more difficult. We had to deal with working and preparing for class for one more week, try to pack for our big move, clean the apartment, and plan our expected activities. Oh well, we had some extra money, and we were able to help the school for a bit longer.

Oh, were you waiting for me to talk about what we did?

Ah.

Sorry.

Ok, well it was awhile ago, so my memory is incredibly fuzzy….. I’ll try my best!

Day 1 – Arrival in Kyoto

So, the McAndrews met us at Kyoto Station. I misunderstood where they were waiting and did a lot of wandering. Kyoto Station is pretty big so it is easy to get lost. Once we met up with them, we walked with them to their hostel. Unfortunately for them, they came in a bit of a busy season (who am I kidding, every day of the year is busy season in Kyoto…) so they had a hard time finding hotels. Luckily, Pat’s mom seems to be a hostel-finding genius haha.

The hostels that they were in for most of their trip were Japanese-style, which essentially means the bedding situation is different that any North American would be used to. In Japan, many people sleep on a futon. BUT! A futon in Japan is not what we call a futon in Canada. In Canada, if you hear futon, you are probably thinking of a fold-down bed. In Japan, a futon is a thin down/cotton mattress on the floor. At home, this is what Pat and I use every night, so we are used to it.

Since we met up with them fairly late, after they checked in, we went out for supper right away. Now, this time, I made a conscious effort not to dictate our food choices or to argue. So, I let them lead the way with their food choices (actually, to be honest, I don’t like Japanese food as much as I like Korean food, so I felt less of a desire to have them try specific foods. In Korea, I was so passionate about their amazing food that I wanted them to try everything…. ). They decided on an Italian place. It was obviously marketed towards foreigners, which is fine, but means the price will be higher. It was. It was quite expensive…. The portion sized were also quite small. The food was good though!

I really can’t remember, but I don’t think we did anything after that…. Maybe we went to a small Irish Pub at Kyoto Station… I don’t remember what day that was. But, I think it was that day. The Olympics were on the TV so of course Pat’s dad had to get updated! They got to see the Japanese side of the Olympics, which, I’m sure is a bit of a different point of view.

Day 2 – Fushimi Inari

Our first official day off from work! Yay~

They had to check out of their hostel and check into a different one, so I think they had a bit of a hectic morning. Gosh, I really can’t remember. Oh well. Well whatever the details were, we ended up at Fushimi Inari eventually haha.

Now, you may know this already, but Fushimi is my favourite place in Kyoto. I love it. It is an easy hike and somehow I never get sick of the tori gates. Never.

August in Japan is so freaking hot, by the way, so although this is an easy hike, we were all sweating like crazy. There are vending machines along the way (weird right?), but the drinks were way over priced. Well, even though I had an entire post dedicated to this place, here are some more photos!

I think I restrained myself this time haha, just because I already have so many photos. The view at the top was quite nice and clear.

Did you miss pictures of Pat and his Dad’s backs?

It was a nice day. It was hot like it was in Jeju, but we didn’t do as much unnecessary walking like we had to in Jeju…

So once we reached the “top”, Pat’s family friend stayed at the covered shelter while the rest of us continued up the mountain a bit. There is a trail that loops around from that spot and back. There isn’t a view or anything, so continuing from that point on isn’t really necessary. The loop doesn’t take too long so when we came back I think it was a good amount of break time for the family friend.

Pat taking in the view~

If you ever go to Kyoto, I really recommend going here. It is just so interesting. It is a fairly easy hike and doesn’t take too long. It is like the perfect way to spend the day.

I made a schedule for our trip, but I don’t think we followed it very closely so I don’t remember what we did after this. I put on my schedule to check out downtown. So… maybe we went downtown? Ugh, I don’t know.

Day 3 – Fireworks festival in Shiga

The next day, we got to go to an annual Fireworks festival in Shiga, Japan. Shiga is right next to Kyoto. It is an area (I don’t think it’s a prefecture, but it definitely isn’t a city… It’s like a region? I suppose) that surrounds Lake Biwa. Biwa Lake is the largest lake in Japan. The fireworks were over the lake so I knew it would be beautiful.

Well, after talking with my Japanese coworkers, I learned that this is an event that most Japanese people will be wearing yukata. I was soooo excited.

But

I’m an idiot….

A few days earlier (after our last day of work), we dropped off our company uniforms at the dry cleaners. Deciding to take advantage of the situation, I also brought some dresses and my yukata as well. Since this was my first time going to a dry cleaner”s (yeah, I’m a terrific adult…), I really had no idea how long it took to have clothes dry cleaned…. Well, it didn’t take a day like I thought haha. So, I suddenly didn’t have my yukata for the festival. NOoooOoOO~

I decided to buy a cheap one from Uniqlo. The original one I bought was much more expensive and obviously of a higher quality.

Oh well.

I had Pat meet up with them earlier than me as I got ready. I knew that with the hair, makeup and yukata putting-on-ing, that I would take a while. Well, I underestimated how long it would take. Yukata’s are so frustrating to put on and look nice.

Also, short side story:

About a month prior to this time, I got my first haircut in Kyoto. I bleached my hair and trimmed it myself up to that point, but decided it was time for a professional trim. Well, it was a huuuuuge mistake. My hair was like shoulder length and a bit damaged. As I have done many times in the past, I said “I’m not picky about style. Just get rid of the dead ends and give any style.”…. well…. USUALLY, the hair dresser picks a style that suits my face type. I also am 100% okay with short hair, so I told him to cut off as much as he thinks is necessary. Well…. what I’m not okay with is a haircut that is unflattering, difficult to style, or required a lot of work to look proper. That was exactly what he gave me. He cut off a lot, and I was sad, but like, understanding? I knew it was going to be short. I mentally prepared myself for that and let him do what he was doing. In the end, he gave me what is know as a halo haircut. Please, take a break from this post and google it. It is awful. I looked so so so bad. Even now, I am stilll trying to grow this mess of a hairstyle out. The front layers are so incredibly short. I essentially had a mushroom cut mixed with a mullet.

Okay, back to the festival.

My hair was so difficult to style. I could not get it to look flattering. (In my last post at the Gion Festival, I had the same issue). My makeup was okay, but due to my airline incident, I really didn’t own much makeup. My new yukata had an obi (belt) that I had to tie myself, unlike my expensive one that had an easy style obi.

I was so frustrated. It took so long.

I knew the trains were going to be packed and the venue would be so busy. I wanted to leave waaaay earlier than we did.

Well, everyone was very patient with me. We got to the train station and holy moly was I right. The trains were packed! I suppose it was interesting that the McAndrews got to experience the stereotype that Japanese trains are wall-to-wall with people and how people are basically pushed onto the train to fit. Not that that is a good experience, but kind of neat I guess..

Sorry everyone in this pic. You are now famous.

This was at the festival train stop. So many people! Notice that the going up side is completely empty. Not as many yukatas as I had expected, but still quite few.

Once we piled out of the station we followed the crowds to where the viewing areas were. I had brought a cooler bag along so we were also on the lookout for a place to get some drinks to fill the bag with. Everything was crowded. It was pretty difficult to do anything haha. We split up momentarily. The boys got some drinks and the girls went to scout out places. It was already so busy at this time..

It was like an organized chaos. Japan, unlike Canada, really knows how to handle large crowds AND large crowds know how to handle themselves. Nobody was being crazy, nobody was jumping or climbing over the rails, and nobody was on the opposite side of traffic. People walk together as a group and seem to peacefully find a place to view the fireworks without being rude or pushy.

Me and Pat’s mom found a place to sit on the pavement (on a mat thing…). Pat, his dad, and the family friend didn’t want to sit on the pavement and totally ditched us! I was actually pretty annoyed at Pat since I was so excited for this event and really wanted to spend it with him. Oh well. I suuupoooose his comfort is important…

There were around 10,000 fireworks supposedly. It was the best fireworks display I had ever seen in my life. I can’t even describe how stunning they were. I tried my best to take photos of them, but it’s much easier said than done for a non-photographer like myself.

The fireworks were stunning, so here is a whole bunch of photos:

oooh, planets

smiley faces!

teddy bears!

I don’t know!

“falling” type

So many colours. I snapped this one like 1 sec too late…

Probably my favourite photo

I had a lot of fun, despite sitting away from Pat. I’m pretty sure I had teary eyes. It was so overwhelming. The fireworks were so impressive. They had a ‘program’ for the fireworks so it was easy to predict when the big shows would start. In Japanese style, they were on time for every segment. Like, to the minute. This made it easy to follow along and have an idea of what was going on.

The fireworks finished quite late, but we were a bit hungry. Since it is a festival, there is always street food around. But, because it’s Japan, everything closes pretty early. We had to get the last servings from some food stalls. We each got a draft beer (which are served at the street food tents) and drank them on our way back to the train station.

The line for the train was MASSIVE! We had to wait quite a while in line and there were even security guards ushering people inside the station. They must know how many people can fit in the train at a time since they seemed to be counting the number of people entering at a time.

It started to get a bit worrying since the trains don’t really run that late and we don’t live in Shiga. If we missed the train, we would have a pretty expensive taxi ride. Luckily, we did make it. It was a lot of fun. If you are ever in the Kyoto area around the beginning of August, I highly recommend checking out the fireworks festival on the lake.

Day 4 – Osaka (baseball)

Before I talk about the day itself, I have to tell you about buying the tickets. We bought the tickets a week or so before they came. Although the stereotype about Japan is that it is super high-tech, in many ways, it is a bit archaic. It’s like they try to be high-tech, but somehow make it more difficult than it needs to be.

So, buying tickets (or like anything) online is either non-existent or for Japanese citizens only. Sometimes, you can get something online, print out the order, bring it to the convenient store, and then pay at the convenient store. WHY? Why make it so complicated?? Why add so many steps?! ahem. sorry.

In this case, it wasn’t quite that easy. So, to order sporting or concert tickets, you need to go to the convenient store and order them there. There will be a machine (in Japanese only….) where you will find and order your ticket. For people that are fluent in Japanese, this probably is quite convenient. For people like me, who suck at learning languages and definitely don’t know the terms needed to buy tickets, it can be quite a headache. To make things worse, it seems that certain tickets need to be bought at certain stores.

We went to Family Mart to get our baseball tickets. We were basically buddies with the employee that worked there and he tried his hardest to help us. We both had our Google translate out and were basically communicating with the apps. After a long time doing this, we figured out that we couldn’t buy what we wanted at that convenient store. He told us to try Lawson.

We headed to Lawson. We fiddled with the machine there and couldn’t find anything…. We headed to 7-11. We headed to the copying/fax/buying ticket machine. We started to have some luck. It was still all in Japanese so we had to use Google translate throughout the process. We were able to find the games, categorized by teams, and get the tickets. We then had to bring the tickets to the cashier to pay for them (because paying at the ticket machine would make too much sense right?). This was like a good hour out of our day, but we did it!

Okay, fast forward to the actual event.

I decided to take a detour from the family and go to the Pokemon Center for Pat’s mom. She wanted to buy a gift for her niece so I decided to go for her. It is a bit out of the was from downtown Osaka. I was hoping that they would go to Osaka Castle while I was buying this, but as always, they didn’t have enough time. It’s too bad, I think they would have really liked it.

We planned to meet in Osaka once I was finished. But, there was a problem…. My phone was dying. Not just that, but the game was going to start soon. I was in a panic. Finding a place to plug in is really difficult. I got scolded when I plugged into the wall at the train station…. so embarrassing.

My other task for the day was to find a bank and take out cash. Have I ever told you how frustrating it can be to take out cash from a Canadian bank card? It seems that some people (okay, probably most people) can easily take out cash from the atm at 7-11 or at a JP Post atm. For some reason, the ONLY bank that has ever accepted our Canadian card was Citibank. So, as I was dealing with trying to meet up with Pat, carrying around a huge Pokemon Center bag, and havin a dead phone, I was also trying to find a Citibank.

Well, it no longer existed….

ugh.

By pure luck it seems, I found Pat, and we rushed to the Stadium. The game was okay. I’m not a big sports fan, so I mostly enjoyed eating and drinking haha.

I personally enjoyed watching the game in Korea so much more. For someone who doesn’t care for the actual game, the games in Korea are so much more interesting. You can get seats with tables where you can eat delicious fried chicken. You can bring in your own alcohol or food. The cheering sections were so so entertaining and it just had a really fun atmosphere.

The one thing that is note-worthy about this game was the balloons that were shot up into the air near the end (the blue balloons in the photos above). They had a very…..interesting…. shape to them. Everyone let them go at the same time, so it was like reverse rain of blue balloons. They made a whistling sound as they shot up into the air. We didn’t have any, so we felt a bit out of the loop. That would have been fun. Pat’s dad picked up a used one from the ground as a souvenir hahahaha, funny guy.

After the game, we headed to Osaka’s famous downtown area: Dotonbori. This area is really nice at night. There is a river that runs through the middle and has an iconic view.

We were pretty hungry after the game so we went to find some food. I really wanted them to try okonomiyaki as it is a famous dish of Osaka. It is sometimes referred to as a Japanese pancake. It is essentially shredded cabbage, egg and flour that is made into a thick pancake type thing. There are many options for toppings such as squid, pork, kimchi, and apparently tomato… Many places were already closed (did I mention that Japan shuts down early?), but luckily we found a place. This place specialized in a tomato-type of okonomiyaki so I was not too excited haha.

Fortunately for me, they had other special types that were so so good.

Unlike Korea, having a grill at your table doesn’t necessarily mean that you will be cooking anything. The soba and okonomiyaki come to you cooked and are simply on the grill to stay warm and add a bit of crisp if you want it. Man, I haven’t had okonomiyaki in a loooooong time…. it really is a Kansai thing. It doesn’t seem to be so popular here (I live near Yokohama, now).

After we were stuffed, we headed home. We may have gone downtown and watched some Olympics with drinks outside, but I really don’t remember what night that was haha.

Day 5 – Riverboat tour and Arashiyama

We originally planned to have a day of rest on this day seeing as we were being quite active up to this point. We shuffled the days around and decided to go hard and have the day off before our move. This would give us enough time to do the necessary things like returning uniforms to our school, packing, cleaning, and all the last minute details.

This was completely the family’s idea. I was happy that they did some research into what they wanted to see. I felt kind of bad basically dictating our activities. I don’t know what interests them so I just made a pretty generic list of things to do.Which, to be fair, are pretty good things to see in Kansai ( I think…).

So, they found a brochure at the information booth near Kyoto Station. It was for a riverboat tour. Of course it was all in Japanese, but it seemed like a nice way to relax and enjoy some beautiful scenery.

Before we get to that….

You guessed it!

Story time~

Well…. It would be me and Pat if there weren’t hiccups along the way. We actually bought these tickets the day before (of maybe two days before… I don’t remember). They were a bit pricey so we bought them using a credit card (not a common thing in Japan… surprisingly). Since this trip was almost booked, we had to get a strange auxiliary seat on the bus and got a weird special ticket. The auxiliary ticket is much cheaper, but like, not a choice? Meaning, you can’t choose the auxiliary seat to pay a low price. It is only offered to you if the bus is full. The best way of describing what this auxiliary seat is, is to think of a Greyhound style bus and then imagine the arm rest folding out into the aisle for someone to sit on. Wow, comfy….Not so important, but note that we had one weird ticket.

Well we were given a time to meet by the bus. Somehow, we weren’t late. We weren’t very early though either….

As we were about to board, we realized we were missing something. Our freakin’ tickets! Of course nobody had the receipt on them. There was definitely not enough time to go home and get them (we lived like an 8min train ride away so if we had been early, we could have been okay…). We tried talking to the info desk lady and there was really nothing they could do. Unless we had the reciept or tickets we couldn’t go on that trip.

Well, we didn’t really want to abandon our plan at this point. The lady’s only solution was to buy the tickets again and then bring our tickets later to get refunded. What a pain. Well, that’s what we did. Now perhaps someone cancelled last minute, I don’t know, but we had to pay the full price. We didn’t have an auxiliary seat anymore.They also didn’t have ‘real’ tickets for us so we just got on the bus haha…

Okay, so we made it. We got on the bus. It took us to a quaint little train station in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. We then got to go on a ‘scenic’ train. It was really cute.

I apparently didn’t take a picture of the train itself. Trust me, it was cute. The pictures I took from the train were obviously not great…. Oh well, in real life, it was quite nice. On the train, you could pay a person to take your photo with a Polaroid camera in the train. Why? what would the backround be? the old train? Why? Especially when every single person on that train had their very own expensive DSLR camera….. I kind of wanted one…

After our scenic train trip, we arrived at the riverboat station. We were put into groups and shown our boats. Pat’s mom and I were lucky and got front row seats! (I felt bad for the family friend as she is a much better photographer and got stuck behind a pole on the boat…. ). Pat and his dad were somewhere in the back haha.

I can’t even imagine the amount of work these guys that were rowing the boat were doing. They were dripping sweat. Yet, somehow, they were like cracking jokes (I assume since everyone was laughing, but who knows, I didn’t understand a thing. Maybe I was the butt of his jokes, who knows? He could have been like “look at this white girl in the front. Her skin is hurting my eyes it’s so pale!” but I have no idea. I am pretty sure I fake-laughed along to whatever he was talking about. Anyway, point is, he seemed like a funny guy), was telling stories and pointing out interesting things to look at on the way.

I guess I don’t have much to say really… It was a hot day. The slight breeze and being on the water felt nice.

At one point in the journey, there was an opportunity to try rowing for yourself. Pat’s mom is not one to pass up an opportunity so she gave it a shot. Not only that, but she surprised the heck out of the guy since she is pretty strong. It seemed like the technique was quite different from a canoe, a kayak or even a rowboat!

The handles had large grooves in them from being rubbed in the same spot many times over. They had to be constantly made wet to ensure they would glide rather than stick. It was interesting.Okay, here are some more photos!

As we got closer to the end, we went buy a market boat. It was selling some packaged goods and some hot things-on-sticks as well. I got mochi (pounded rice cake) and I really enjoyed it. It’s not for everyone, but I like it ^^~.

We eventually got to our end destination; Arashiyama. This was still part of that package we paid for so we were given a free pass into a temple and the gardens. We pulled up to the shore and were given a time and place to meet for the ride home so we had a bit of free time to explore as we wanted to.

Everyone seemed to have a different pace. Pat and his dad like to basically jog everywhere. How they can appreciate anything they see I’ll never know. Pat’s mom and I are in the middle, snapping photos here and there. The family friend is taking her time to get the perfect shots (she can actually take nice photos haha). We eventually split up so she could take her time and not feel rushed. Pat and his dad were forced to slow down a bit.

Here are some photos!

So interesting…

I always feel a bit weird taking photos of tombstones or statues… I dunno, just feel weird for the deceased that I know nothing about and are reduced to a hunk of stone…

So, we made it to the temple. Oh wait. We don’t actually have any tickets to show! I’m pretty sure we had to whip out a receipt or something. The lady didn’t seem to want to deal with us and let us through. She was probably informed of the tour group and knew what was going on.

Hey cicada buddy…. can you like… shut up for a minute??!!

The gardens were, as always, stunning. The main attraction at Arashiyama isn’t the temple or gardens though. It’s the bamboo forest. It is world famous. It is actually so freaking cool! This was my first time going in the daylight. It can make beautiful photos if you are super lucky to find a time when it isn’t crowded.

We were not so lucky. It was so so busy. I’m pretty sure you need to go early early in the morning to get any good shots. Oh well. It is really cool to see though. I recommend it.

After adventuring around on growling tummies, we found some street food. Pat and I got some really good fish cakes. Pat’s mom told us a story of the worst food she has ever eaten, being a slimy and chewy fishcake, so we urged her to try ours. I think she wasn’t a fan still, but at least her image of fishcakes wasn’t ruined forever. No one else was really interested in the streetfood so we set out to find some real food. We found a small cafe and had some pasta. It was pretty good and it felt nice to sit under some air conditioning.

When our time limit was almost up, we headed towards the bus and checked out the gift shop. After a long day in the heat, we finally got back to Kyoto Station. We were pretty pooped.

We got refunded our tickets later that day. Pat had to move fast to get to our house, grab the tickets and go back to the info place before it closed. We couldn’t go on other days because we had our plans all set out and we had to leave before the place opened and wouldn’t return until after it closed. It was kinda stressful haha.

…To be cont.

Japan with the Inlaws – Part 1 Wow, finally, the time has come! Strap yourself in, this is going to be a long one.

#arashiyama #bamboo forest #baseball #dotonbori #fireworks #fireworks festival #fushimi inari #japan #Kyoto #lake biwa #photography #shiga #travel #white girl in yukata #yukata

0 notes