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oatmilk-vampire · 4 months

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Tomorrow's Loss: Chapter 1

Book Summary: All Tom wanted to do was study with his friend, but then his crush of four years shows up unannounced and urges them to evacuate for an unknown reason. After they are on the road, they learn they are escaping a dangerous bloodborne pathogen that is turning those infected violent and cannibalistic, all with a disturbing smile on their face. Tom soon finds himself on the way to play a tragic game of house with his best friend, his crush, a married couple and their dog. Tom hopes the CDC is right when they say they willl get it all under control soon. However, as days pass with no sign of respite, they become painfully aware that help will not be on the way after all. When Tom's group begins to lose members to the virus and gains one additional, they are all stuck trying to adapt and survive in this new world. After nearly a year, the group is forced to venture out further for food and other supplies, finding other survivors who only want to harm them more than the Smilers do. But when Tom is saved by one stranger, it opens his world to the possibility of community and actually living instead of just surviving.

A/n: I can only share 10% of my novel, so here's the first 5%.:) Read end note for links and coupons.

I dance to the speakers pumping music in my dorm. Sound waves of instruments I have no interest in ever learning how to play echo and bounce off of the thin walls. I know my neighbors would complain if they ever actually spent any time at home. The opening verse to Modern Baseball’s “Re-Do” rings out as I pull clothes from my closet. I’m getting ready to meet with my best friend Tim so we can hold each other accountable for actually getting work done instead of getting trapped into an endless scroll on Instagram, Facebook or God forbid TikTok. As I make the ultimate decision between two shirts, I hear something that doesn’t quite sound like it’s part of the song.

I hesitate, waiting to see if Tim will unlock the door and come in but when he doesn’t I resume the task of throwing on my red heather. As I pop my head through the neckhole, I hear someone calling my name. Weird. It kind of sounds like… I freeze my movements.

Could it really be him? It’s been since my birthday in March that he last visited. Any doubt in my mind is quickly extinguished when, by some miracle, I clearly hear the pounding on my door over Brendan Lukens’ voice.

I jump and yank my pants up over my hips before scrambling to the source of the noise. I give myself a once-over in the mirror before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

There Mark stands, a fist still raised ready to assault my poor door again. He lowers it and barks out something I never expected to hear from his mouth.

“Grab your shit let’s go.”

“Mark!” I almost fall backwards, definitely not expecting to actually see him. But there he is, the biggest crush I’ve ever had – standing right before me. “What are you doing here?”

“Grab. Your. Shit. Let’s go!” Taking charge, he pushes past me and begins pulling out all of my dresser drawers, shoveling socks, shirts and pairs of underwear into the backpack that he just carelessly dumped my very important schoolwork out of.

“Hey!” I shout, surprise quickly getting replaced by frustration. “Mark, what the hell? Stop! My papers are getting all over the place. I did a lot of research on those!” I drop to my knees to try to gather them into their respective stacks before they get too disorganized.

“You always do research!” He retorts as if it justifies his actions. He moves to the closet and starts pulling out my jeans. I notice he’s pointedly ignoring the dressier clothes, instead opting for my more practical wear such as jackets and sweaters instead. He turns to me once he seems satisfied with his haul.

“Where’s Tim?”

I’m taken aback. Why would he be asking about him? What’s he doing here destroying our room anyway?

“At the library. I was just about to meet him there. Why? Mark, what’s going on? You’re acting like someone accidentally killed John Wick’s dog.” I try a smile and a reference to the first movie we watched together to snap him out of whatever has a hold on him. I know we have plans to see number four when it finally hits theaters, but to my great disappointment he completely ignores my efforts.

“Jake and Tash are meetin’ us at the cabin. I’ll explain later. Is there anythin’ else you need?” He pauses. “Your prescriptions!”

He turns to rummage through my bedside table where he knows I keep my pills, but he also happens to find some other things that I really wish he hadn’t.

Mark slows his movements just long enough to toss the condoms and lube into the bag too. “Gotta still be safe, I guess. Safety first. That’s a priority.”

I can feel my face turning beet red and I’m ready to just close in on myself.

Then Mark is right back in front of me snapping his fingers in my face.

“Hey, look. I know you weren’t expectin’ to see me, and I know it definitely wasn’t the reunion you wanted. Hell, it’s not the reunion I wanted either, but we really need to go. We need to find Tim and you need to decide if there is anythin’ else you want or need.”

But I just can’t comprehend what’s going on here, and how could I? Mark is giving me virtually zero information to go on.

“How long are we going to be gone? Can I turn in my papers first? I’m kind of at my deadline. I might need to ask for a leave of absence if it’s going to be long.”

“They’ll understand about the papers, and if not, I’ll make them understand. I don’t know how long.”

“Is someone in trouble? Are we going on the lam?” I look around the room in all its small and crowded glory. My eyes fall to my plush canid collection beside my bed.

“Can I take them?”

Mark follows where I’m pointing and sees the many plushies that he’s personally gifted me over the years.

“Yeah, yeah. If it’ll make you feel better and get your ass movin’, grab ‘em.”

After I safely pack them away with the rest of my deemed essentials, Mark takes hold of the bags and moves them closer to the door.

“Call Tim. Tell him to meet us somewhere close. We need to go. I’ll get his shit for him too.”

In a matter of minutes the two of us are sitting safely in Mark’s backseat but I still don’t feel ready to let out the breath it feels like I’ve been holding. Not until we get to where we’re going and I learn what we’re running from.

“You two lovebirds start callin’ your friends and loved ones and tell ‘em to get to safety.” Mark looks in his rearview mirror at us. “We don’t have any room for ‘em to ride with us, but we can at least give a heads up since the government is failin’ us yet again.”

“Lorelei is in Florida. Will she be okay?” Tim questions, and I wonder if he feels guilty over not insisting on spending their mini-break together. In his defense, she did say she would be happier just going alone. Girl time, she called it.

“Uhh… Yeah, yeah. That’s far enough. Still get in touch to be sure. Let her know not to come back for now.” He instructs, but I don’t know if I really believe him. His eyes are all shifty and I don’t miss the way Mark’s hands clench around the wheel. It’s way worse than what he’s letting on. Mark doesn’t get this freaked out over just anything.

“Okay… Can we please know what’s going on now?” I finally speak up, daring Mark to dodge any more of my questions.

He spares me another glance in the rearview mirror.

“There’s a virus.”

A groan. “Oh, great! Just what we needed. How serious is it? Like covid?” Tim complains as he rubs his forehead.

“I still wear masks, it’s not all that bad. I’ll also get the vaccine when it’s out. Whatever it takes to keep the world going.” I easily concede, not at all ready to go through another pandemic, especially when this one isn’t really over.

“It’s not like covid.” Mark shakes his head. “It’s not in the lungs.”

“Then how is it transmitted?” I look at Tim just in time to see him narrow his eyes, definitely not liking the sound of this. Neither do I.

“Blood. They’re sayin’ it’s a bloodborne pathogen.”

“So what, like hepatitis or HIV? A glorified STD?” I inquire, holding my African wild dog plush close for comfort. “As long as we don’t come in contact with bodily fluids we’re fine right? Why do we need to leave?”

I know I’ll be fine, at least. Although, I’m not too sure about the other two men in the SUV. The perks of being sexually inactive, I guess.

“It’s not that simple.” Mark sighs, and I notice his hands tighten on the steering wheel once more; he must have loosened them at some point.

Maybe we should discuss this later, I don’t want us to get in a wreck and end up needing a blood transfusion on top of everything else…

Wait…

“Can we try blood transfusions? Could that make a difference? Would it purify it?” I glance at the pre-med student beside me for his input.

“Possibly. But at this time it’s still new and unlikely and would take studying and human trials and–”

“Alright, enough!” Mark startles the both of us with his booming voice, commanding us into silence. “It has somethin’ to do with blood under the nails. Think about that. Quietly please.”

“Subungual hematomas?” Tim exchanges looks with me, likely making sure he heard correctly.

“Quietly please.” Mark reiterates.

For the next half hour, the drive is mostly in silence, save for the occasional cough or sneeze and “bless you” that follows.

I take the liberty of counting out just how many pills I have when –oh no– I should have picked up my prescriptions yesterday. I only have about a five-day supply here, give or take – and that’s only because I haven’t taken today’s doses yet since I usually like to just choke them all down at once before going to sleep. This is bad.

It shouldn’t be too long, right? I should be able to make it on a solid four-day ration… Right?

Don’t be stupid, Tom.

I glance at Tim, my roommate and friend of three years. I’ve never had a friendship last that long, other than Mark if you consider him a friend. Then that relationship would be four years.

Next I hazard a glance back at the driver, seeing him in deep concentration. How would Mark know about this? I haven’t even heard about it on the news. Then again, I don’t really watch a lot of news anyway. It’s not good for my mental health. But being in college, kids talk. A lot. No one has mentioned this.

I feel my anxiety budding, and I squeeze my plush even tighter even though it makes me feel childish. I wonder if I should just pop the anxiety pill right now.

When I look out of my window nothing seems out of order or unusual. Everyone seems completely fine. Happy even. No one even looks irritated, they’re all smiling. I offer my own smile to the world.

Maybe it isn’t all that bad.

I even catch sight of an officer pushing a shopping cart, a baby strapped into a carrier on his chest. A smile plastered on his face too. It strikes me as a bit odd, wouldn’t a cop usually change out of uniform before running personal errands? Keep work life and home life separate, and all that.

I can’t imagine what he could have been exposed to on the job, and what he was now exposing his child to.

I shouldn’t think too hard about it.

Once we get about forty-five minutes away from our college, Mark pulls off into a gas station. He gets out, leaving his window down and begins pumping. I catch him looking back and forth towards the store.

“Mark? What’s wrong?”

“Kinda wanna stock up on some smokes. Just in case it’s a good time to pick up a bad habit.” He admits with a careless shrug, but I can tell it’s just a front.

“Want me to go get them?” I offer with a hand already on the door handle.

“No.” A firm shake of his head. “Safer out here.”

“Want me to pump and you go get them?”

No answer.

I waste no time exiting and walking around the trunk to take the pump from his hand, “I got this. Go ahead.”

“Can you and Tim fill up the cans in the back after you’re done with the car?”

“Sure.” I easily agree, ready to get back on the road to supposed safety as soon as possible.

“Hey, Tim! Get your ass out the car, if I’m leavin’ one of you out here defenseless you’re both gonna be out here. Protect each other. I’ll be right back.” Mark stalks off when he sees him nod and unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Well, this has been weird.” Tim gets himself situated standing beside me, prompting me to take the perfect opportunity to start my rambling.

“We still don’t know what this virus is doing, if it kills people, if they’re working on a cure, just how sick we’ll get, how many of us are infected, what we’re going to do in the meantime, why cigarettes and condoms are so important–”

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down. It’s okay. I know this is stressful but everything is going to be fine. We trust Mark and Jake, right? The thing I’m most concerned about is the condoms you mentioned.” He smirks, knowing it would throw me off.

“And lube.” I would have covered my face in embarrassment if my hands weren’t currently occupied and covered in only God knows how many germs. What if I have any open wounds on my hands? Maybe we should have grabbed disposable gloves too. I study the box of disposable gloves next to the pump that nearly no one uses.

“Oh, God, why? Did Mark say who it’s for?”

“Well, not really. He was in my drawer getting my meds and…”

“Oh, no! Your condoms and lube? That’s so embarrassing!” He emphasizes certain words to get a rise out of me. He knows he succeeded when my face burns a deeper shade of red than it previously was.

“Stop! Shut up! God, I hate you.” I look down in an attempt to hide my smile, but quickly look back towards the store. What is taking so long?

Just then a stumbling woman approaches us.

“Hi, any chance you can spare a hand sanitizer?”

We exchange wary looks.

I don’t think hand sanitizer will benefit us too much, and she seems really polite with a big toothy grin.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.” I easily agree but stop short when I notice the gas cans still surrounding me. “Uhh…”

“Don’t worry, Tommy. I got it.” Tim offers, leaving me to the task at hand.

I smile at him, “Thanks.”

Tim leaves me alone with the strange woman, but thankfully he’s only gone for a moment. He quickly pulls himself back out of the car with his own personal travel bottle just in enough time to see how engrossed she is with staring me down.

“Here you go, ma’am.” He reaches out to her, but she snatches his hand in a death grip, digging her pinkie nail into him with alarming pressure before taking the hand sanitizer and walking away without another word.

It all happens so fast neither one of us can react, but the shock must still be evident on our faces when Mark makes it back to the car.

He looks at the machine and hums at the price, not seeming at all bothered that the cost is in triple digits. I know he doesn’t have money like that. None of us do.

He eyes the both of us, taking note of whatever our expressions show. Does he notice Tim cradling his wrist?

“Y’all okay? Look like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.”

“Or something.” Tim frowns, highly unusual for his usually chipper self. “Can we just get back on the road now?”

“Yeah, y’all hungry? I got a ton of snacks while I was waitin’ in line.”

“No thanks.” We answer simultaneously.

“Alright, more for later then. I am gonna say choose what you want, though. First pick.”

“Fine.” Tim opens the door, getting back into the car.

“Jeez, what’s his problem? Trouble in paradise?”

I just look at him.

After we’re all seated and buckled up, Mark tries again.

“Is it something I said?” He puts the vehicle in reverse and pulls out.

“More like what you didn’t say. What exactly is going on here? You can’t just say there’s a BBP causing subungual hematomas and leave it at that. That makes no sense.” Tim forces through clenched teeth.

I observe my best friend press his wrist down against his leg.

A deep breath.

“Okay, look. It is bloodborne. So you can get it pretty much anyway you can get any other virus like that, I’m assumin’. But for some reason the easiest way to catch it is through the nails.”

“Somethin’ happens, a blood clot forms under the fingernails which wouldn’t be such a big deal except for some reason the infected nails are really brittle, so a simple scratch can be way more devastatin’ than usual and pass the infection faster than a class of kindergartners in flu season.”

Tim furrows his brows. “So, like an iron deficiency?”

“What do you mean?” Mark asks cluelessly.

“Iron deficiencies make your nails dry and brittle. Break easy. If it’s being transmitted through the blood, maybe that has something to do with it.”

Mark seems to think carefully for a moment. “If it’s really severe could it cause extreme cravin’s?” He actually takes his eyes off of the road for this one

“Well, it can. I’ve read before that whatever your body is craving is a sign of what your body is missing. But, iron deficiency or anemia causes pica. Pica makes you have weird cravings like ice, clay, dirt, paper, chalk, etcetera.” Tim clarifies. “Stuff that isn’t really food or good for you.”

“How the hell do two kids know this and not the WHO?” He pitches his voice low in an attempt to say it under his breath, but we hear him anyway.

“Excuse me? The WHO? It’s worldwide? Just what are we dealing with exactly?” Tim narrows his eyes once more, fully suspicious that Mark was indeed hiding the worst of it; I know because I feel the same way.

Uncomfortable with the sudden tension, I look out of my window to spot more people than I’m used to seeing out and about, all smiling. Except, there’s something about these smiles that don’t sit right with me anymore.

“Look, I told y’all everythin’ I know. Tell that girl Lori she–” He gets cut off.

“It’s Lorelei.” Tim corrects with anger in his voice.

“Tell Lorelei she needs to stay where she is and take shelter. Stay safe.”

“Why? What is so bad about this? Are we going to die?” Tim demands, his raised voice making me flinch.

“I dunno! Fuck! It’s bad, alright? The ones infected are turning on the uninfected. Turning on their Goddamn loved ones for chrissake! All with that stupid fuckin’ smile on their faces.”

He gulps a breath before continuing his explanation.

“You can’t trust any of them. They won’t remember you. It takes over. They have bad blood runnin’ through those brains now. They’re violent. They get vicious cravin’s.”

“What cravings?” I speak up for the first time since this conversation began.

A beat of silence as Mark considers his next words. My heart feels like it’s slamming into my ribcage, its rapid beating the only noise I can hear.

“You’ve told us this much.” I invoke. “Might as well keep on.”

Mark meets my eyes in the mirror.

“Meat, blood, life. I dunno what it is they’re after. As long as it’s human.”

It’s at this point that my entire world stops.

Then it rapidly slams back into movement.

Tim is freaking out. Lorelei isn’t picking up the phone, so he’s desperately trying to explain it all to her in texts. I just sit here, glued to my seat. Hands frozen. I can’t call anyone even if I had others to call.

“How long?” Tim’s strained voice snaps my attention to him.

“How long what?” Mark’s vision remains locked on the road.

We’re an hour and a half away from college now; from the life I don’t know if I’ll ever have again.

Tim carries on, “How long until you become one of them after being exposed?”

“I dunno. Like an hour or two? Depends on your size I guess. Why?”

“Does anyone know of a cure yet?”

“No, half the world doesn’t even know it’s goin’ on, and the other half doesn’t know what’s goin’ on.”

Tim is directly behind Mark, so he misses when Tim reveals his wound to me. What should have been a tiny scratch was now a gaping hole, spreading and branching out over his entire wrist. His blood is flowing at an alarming rate. I see bits of what I can only assume is remnants of the woman’s nail stuck inside of my friend’s skin.

He meets my eyes.

I feel like I’m going to be sick.

We both know it. This is goodbye – something Tim never liked to say even on spring breaks and holidays away. Goodbye implies there wouldn’t be another hello. It was the end.

I force myself to swallow the lump in my throat, fighting past the feeling that I can’t breathe. I imagine Tim feels much worse.

“Mark?” My voice wavers, the distraught immediately catching his attention.

“What’s wrong, Tomorrow?”

I wince at the nickname, one I always secretly loved just feels all sorts of wrong now. It isn’t fair.

“Did you bring oven mitts or something?

“Oven mitts– What?”

“Or something to cover hands with? Please?”

The desperation in my voice makes looking back completely unnecessary for Mark. He already knows the answer.

When he sees the dark crimson mess spilling onto Tim’s clothes and the blank look on his face, he snaps into action. He pulls off of the road and presses on the hazards. He wastes no time jumping out of his seat and yanking the door open to get my infected friend out.

Tim follows him out without a single complaint, just uses his good hand to toss his phone to me, who decides also exiting the vehicle is definitely a good idea and not at all a bad one.

I will never forget how Tim’s eyes appear distorted and out of focus, until a single tear slips down his face as he fades away.

Now he isn’t Tim anymore. Any trace of his consciousness long gone.

He is one of them.

He smiles.

~~~

Interested in getting the full book? Check your library or check out my (incomplete) universal book link for some of your options.

I have a 50% off coupon on Smashwords exclusively for my TumblrFam. The code is VN67N

Still not sure? Stay tuned for chapter 2.

Thanks for reading!

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dememetor · 3 years

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HEY HEY HEY

I love your writing, can I please get jealous hcs for anyone? Please include suna thi he's my latest brainrot hAHA

hi, thanks for the request! and suna brainrot?? bitch me too the fuck. anyways, hope you enjoy~

(also sorry this is kinda late, i've rewritten iwaizumi and bokuto ones a million times)

Haikyuu boys when they're jealous

characters suna rintarou, kuroo tetsurou, iwaizumi hajime, bokuto koutarou, kenma kozume

warnings none but i'm probably gonna say fuck at some point

Suna Rintarou

he tries to be chill about it, he does

it hurts his ego to be this clingy but god

he can't help but to feel that sour sting of jealousy when he sees another guy approaching you

at first will only take a quick glance from afar, just to check if the guy is bothering you, and then promises himself to stay out of your business

well he doesn't

once he decides the guy has lost talking-to-y/n-alone privilege, he will nonchalantly make his way towards you, one hand in his pocket, other sneaking its way to your shoulder, resting his elbow and giving the poor boy a menacing look

he can be pretty intimidating too with that eyeliner and all

(but that look only works on people that don't know him well, he tried it on atsumu once and the latter just laughed in his face)

not the type to be openly jealous but when he sees someone blatantly flirting with you he will start to give you the Glance

blinks slowly (you know, like that one blonde haired guy gif) and looks at you through raised eyebrows as if to say hey babe, i love you and i trust you. what the fuck tho

and when the guy starts being borderline creepy he'll appear between you - and i mean literally will inject himself between you two and strike a conversation with you as if nothing weird happened

they usually get the hint, but this one guy tried to go around him, still rambling about whatever and suna literally turned on his heel and said "come again?" with such unrivaled coldness, his eyes exuding just sheer fucking spite

but like i said, unless the other guy is asking for it, he's not the type to start a direct confrontation

will take you by the hand and leave without much thought because he simply doesn't have the time for that shit

he might seem grumpy afterwards but a couple of soft kisses usually do the trick

soft kisses which are followed by a breathless make out session with you on his kitchen counter because he still wants you to know you're only his

Kuroo Tetsurou

this little bitch

never gets jealous

and i mean never

once pretended he was jealous just to make you feel better (??? his logic? unparalleled) but once you found out you beat his ass

loves it when you get jealous though (he thinks it's cute)

sometimes he does get insecure, but he shows it in an unusual way

like if you've been talking to someone, smiling at your phone for a while he'll just get up and randomly do a couple puhs-ups, start flexing his muscles and shit

all while you're looking at him like,,

"babe, what are you doing"

"oh i didn't think you'd notice me there. since you're on your damn phone all day"

"...are you my mom?"

nah he'll be fine (will steal your phone though)

also it's the funniest thing when he sees someone trying to flirt with you

he will literally walk over there, introduce himself (not mentioning he's your boyfriend) and act really interested in the conversation

he plays this game where he tries to see how long will it take the guy to realise you two are together (longest time: 24 minutes, record holder: yahaba shigeru)

whenever the guy asks you something he will interrupt you and answer for himself as if the guy were flirting with him

"so, like what do you do in your free time?"

"not mu-"

"oh i love taking long walks on the beach, especially during sunsets. i really think it is healthy for the mind and the soul, not to mention quite romantic too. don't you too love sunsets, kevin?"

at one point kevin will have had enough of it

"i was talking to y/n alone here"

"aw don't worry, you're not bothering me"

he is such a pain in the ass

why can't he just be normal

Iwaizumi Hajime

rational, mature, i love him

seriously, he is the bestest boy and he will treat you so well because he trusts you and respects your friendship with other guys as well

but on those rare occasions when he does get jealous,, oh boy

first of all, the PDA skyrockets, he has to have his arm around you at all times - around your shoulder? on your waist? in your backpocket? his hand's been there done that

not in any way possesive but will be really annoying unless you give him your full undivided attention that day

he lets himself be selfish a bit, after all he is your boyfriend he can have you all to himself for a day, right?

jealous sex with him? better prepare a wheelchair cause you want be able to walk straight tomorrow

sees a boy trying to flirt with you? tries not to make a scene but absolutely will throw the first punch if he needs to

one day he was having a particularly rough time at practice and all he wanted to do was lose himself in your arms and fall asleep to the feeling your fingertips tangled in his hair

and then he saw this?? guy? (the audacity!) laughing with you after telling some dumb joke and let me tell you - iwaizumi wasn't having any of it

he came up to you from behind, wrapped his arms around your waist and planted a small kiss on the crook of your neck

"when are we going home, love?"

and he gives him the calmest yet most fear inducing stare from behind you

and suddenly the pattern on poor boy's pants starts to look awful lot like piss stain

it is actually kinda hot how one single look from him can cause such a reaction

"he was just asking about english homework babe"

"yeah that's what they all say"

Bokuto Koutarou

gets jealous so so easily

it is actually fascinating

will get mad at otome games

"what does jumin han have that i don't???"

god forbid you pay attention to your pet more than him (btw you have a golden retriever and his name is bean)

you're sitting on the couch cuddling with your dog, scratching his ears, ruffling his fur and all that, and there he is, your clingy boyfriend, snuggling right next to you, demanding you play with his hair too

so dramatic

"you smiled at him... the way you used to smile at me..."

"bokuto, he's a dog"

the only guy he trusts 100% to be around you is akaashi, even kuroo is on thin ice

but him and akaashi are something else, one time you three had a sleepover and you felt like you were the third wheel

will act like a tough serious boyfriend in front of others, especially your other guy friends but in reality will look for affection immediately after

oh while we're at it - jealous bokuto kisses? are the best kisses

will also force you to wear one of his shirts for the rest of the day

my poor man is so touch starved so when he feels insecure or jealous he will look for comfort in things like holding your hand, nuzzling your neck or giving forehead kisses

but later that day, when you two are sitting on the couch cuddling he will quietly ask you something along the lines of "you still think i'm pretty, right?"

you can feel him all over you - his hands are creeping down your waist, he's pulling you in, deepening the kiss until all you can see, think and feel is him

he wants to show you exactly how much he wants you and what you were missing out on while you weren't paying attention to him

and it shocks you for a moment because you didn't realise just how much that one short moment of jealousy actually stayed with him

you have to reassure him he's the most beautiful boy you have ever met, and not only that, but also the funniest and the most caring person as well, and that you would never leave his side no matter what happened

and as much as he loves getting praised he always gets embarrassed, so he just smiles in return, but he is also happy to know you're there for him and you don't think he is too much

Kenma Kozume

it depends on his mood honestly

sometimes he doesn't mind it even if the other guy is flirting with you and sometimes will get pissy if you smile at the cashier

but when this boy gets really jealous oh my GOD

he is just like bokuto if not worse; he just hides it so well

one time you went grocery shopping with him and spent the entire time texting your friend who had just told you she was visiting your city

and he got so offended

you didn't even notice it until later that day when you came home and he suddenly refused to cuddle with you

silent treatment

lifts his nose and ignores you, only giving you dirty side glances from under the eye

such a massive sense of pride in those 170 cm even oikawa would be impressed

in my country there's a saying "it's in the smallest bottle that the poison lies" and honestly? yeah

at some point you realise why he's acting like that and you start teasing him

"i am not jealous i am just mildly irritated" is the only thing he deems necessary to say before going back to being unnecessarily pissed

he reminds you of an angry cat

it's kind of amusing seeing him like this but you were also getting real tired of his shit

don't even try bribing him (you tried buying him over with a ps5 but he just looked at you unimpressed, disgusted that you think so low of him)

the only thing he will accept is a sincere apology

if it's sincere or not is up to him to decide, obviously

which can lead to quite some bickering

will try to get you to beg but please have dignity, if you do it once he will make you do it every time

yeah generally a lttle shit but his kisses after making up are just as eager as yours so

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missjanjie · 2 years

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Time For Miracles | Rosnali (1/8)

Title: Time For Miracles Summary: Denali and Rosé have just officially called it quits and Rosé is all but out the door to move out. But a blizzard keeps her trapped and as the first night of Hanukkah begins, so does a journey that may make the former couple reevaluate the state of their relationship. Sometimes it takes a miracle, or a one-night snowstorm that lasts for eight. Word Count: ~2.5k (this chapter) Relationship(s): Rosnali (Rosé/Denali Foxx) Rating: T

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Rosé stacked the last box by the door, satisfied that the task was done, though her chest ached at the realization that this signaled the end of her relationship. It wasn’t easy – she almost wished either she or Denali had done something unforgivably cruel, something that would make breaking up the only logical step.

“Are you sure you trust Jan to drive a u-haul? The snow is really starting to come down and she… is Jan,” Denali remarked, staring vacantly out the window as the snow came down, starting to cover the city beneath her in a thin sheet of white.

She shook her head. “Pretty sure it’ll be Jackie. Jan flakes on driving at the first sign of inclement weather, we don’t even ask her to drive the van to gigs anymore.” They both laughed, but there was no humor or joy to be found between them. “Should be here by three either way.”

But three o’clock came and passed. Then four. Then five. It was nearly six that Rosé got a call from Jackie. “Where the hell are you?”

“I lost service,” Jackie explained. “The blizzard’s too intense. I can’t make it out today, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be out as soon as it’s safe.”

Rosé pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Yeah, no, I get it. It’s not your fault, you have to stay safe. Keep me posted,” she replied, the call ending shortly after. She then threw herself onto the couch and groaned. “Fuck.” She tucked her phone into her pocket then yelled towards the bedroom, “Jackie can’t make it, I’m staying tonight!”

“Yeah, no shit!” Denali shouted back.

She rolled her eyes, mocking ‘yeah, no shit’ under her breath. She dropped herself further onto the couch until she was splayed out and melted into it. The couch had served as her bed over the past few days, while she went through the process of packing her belongings. She felt around blindly for the remote, turning on the weather channel once she found it.

“Winds have hit fifty miles per hour with no clear signs of letting up. We can expect this to last through the night and wake up to roughly twelve to fourteen inches of snow in the morning.”

Rosé tossed her head back against the cushions and let out a disgruntled whine. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, squeezing her eyes shut as if she would open them to a bright, summer day. Her eyes only opened when the bedroom door did, glancing towards Denali, but not saying a word.

Denali didn’t acknowledge her presence either, walking right towards the kitchen and taking out various ingredients from the refrigerator and cupboards.

Unable to feign disinterest, Rosé shifted to watch her over the back of the couch, then furrowed her brows. “How many people are you cooking for?”

“I don’t know if we’ll lose power or not, and even if they clear the streets tomorrow, it won’t be easy to get around. Believe it or not, planning ahead is usually better than flying by the seat of your pants every day,” she answered, chopping vegetables as she spoke, seemingly with more intensity every stroke of the knife.

“God forbid Denali Foxx leaves anything to chance,” the redhead scoffed, then cleared her throat awkwardly. “Do you… need help?”

She shook her head. “No, but you can feed Donut.”

Rosé nodded even though Denali wasn’t looking at her, and pushed herself off the couch. There was silence, save for the sounds cooking dinner and pouring dog food created. If they were stuck together another night, she supposed there was no reason for it to be a hostile one. They were still adults that had been together for over two years, after all.

Once the dog had been fed, Rosé retreated to the couch, only looking up when she heard the sound of two plates being set on the table. She looked up to see her ex-girlfriend already eating with another plate set up across from her. A small smile tugged at her lips as she got back up and took her seat.

They didn’t talk, the silence filled by the news playing on the TV. “And with that,” the anchor was saying, “Hanukkah is off to quite the snowy start.”

“Fuck,” Denali cursed under her breath, “I better call my grandma.” She finished the rest of her meal promptly before getting up and going back into her bedroom to make the call.

And Rosé had every intention of leaving Denali to have the call in private, finishing her meal and cleaning up after the both of them – her ex had always been up her ass about doing the dishes, she decided their last night together didn’t need an easily avoidable argument either. But while she was finishing up, she heard Donut whining at the bedroom door. “Hey, I’m letting Donut in!” she called through the door in a warning. Although she didn’t get a response, she cracked open the door to let the dog in any way, subsequently catching a snippet of the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, no, we… um, we broke up,” Denali said into the phone. “No, it’s complicated, I’m sure you don’t want all the details,” she explained, then laughed dryly and shook her head, “okay, of course, you do… I’m just not ready to talk about it, it’s a fresh wound… Thanks, I’ll talk to you soon… love you too, bye.”

Rosé bolted away from the door before the other woman had a chance to notice she was lingering there. She wasn’t sure how she should’ve reacted to what she heard – Denali didn’t say anything she didn’t know, anything that wasn’t true. Maybe it was the phrase ‘we broke up’ that still stung, that caused the pang of sadness she chose not to acknowledge.

Processing emotions was never her strong suit anyway. She wasn’t a crier, it took a lot to get her to yell. Her anger would often make her distant, cold. She was the type to give the silent treatment without even realizing she was doing it. But that was who she was, she would say. That it was her Catholic upbringing that taught her to keep her emotions at arm’s length.

“She said hi,” Denali remarked as she entered the room. “She did always like you… poor thing must be senile.”

She started to laugh, then furrowed her brows, “I can’t tell if you’re joking or being mean,” she admitted.

“Take it as you will.”

Rosé shook her head. “God, you’re such a cunt when you wanna be.”

She shrugged. “Takes one to know one.” There was a beat of silence after that, an apology trying to force its way past her stubborn lips. Finally, she started with, “I-”

“I know, I know,” she brushed it off with a wave of her hand. Out of all the things she would’ve liked to hear Denali apologize for, a snarky remark didn’t come close to making the list, though she wouldn’t be surprised if that feeling was mutual too. “I’m gonna unpack my essentials and shit, wanna shower in case the pipes freeze,” she said as she got up. It was less that she felt that she needed a shower, more so that she hoped standing silently under scalding hot water would be enough to ease the tension in her body.

That left Denali alone in the living room, something she had spent days preparing for. It should have felt normal - with all the time Rosé spent with her band, she often found herself coming home to an empty apartment, other than the saving grace that was her dog. And she’d known what she had signed up for when they moved in together. Besides, working as both an ice skating teacher and freelance choreographer, she sometimes found herself working odd hours too.

Their busy schedules had been a point of contention, something all the attempts at understanding in the world couldn’t have prevented. While far from the sole factor in their breakup, they would both admit to it being a contributing one.

But she didn’t expect to feel so alone while Rosé was in the fucking shower. She didn’t expect to feel tears slide down her cheeks. She dashed into her room, that was the last sight she would’ve wanted Rosé to come back to. She hid her face in her pillows, not actively crying, but silently letting the tears fall until they ran out.

It had been a little while after she had calmed down that Rosé nudged the already ajar door open further. “Hey,” she greeted quietly, “it’s almost midnight. Did you want to light your menorah while it’s still, you know, today?”

Denali sat up as she mulled it over. “Nah,” she decided as she laid back down, “I’ll just light two tomorrow.”

Rosé pressed her lips together, wanting to say more, but unsure of what. “Right, um, guess that makes sense. I’m gonna get to sleep, figure they will have plowed the streets come morning. Jackie said she’ll text me when she’s on her way, so.”

“Makes sense,” she mumbled, rolling back over to face away from her. “Night.”

“G’night.” She closed the door as she moved back to the couch, laying down and pulling her blanket over her, closing her eyes. She doubted she would get much sleep tonight, but it was worth a try.

While it wasn’t until nearly four in the morning, Rosé did end up getting to sleep. When she woke up, she saw Denali already awake and dressed, cleaning up after breakfast. “What time is it?” she asked, scratching the back of her head, then running her fingers through her messy hair.

Denali looked up from the sink. “Quarter to eleven. You probably won’t be hearing from Jackie, by the way. The blizzard kicked into high gear overnight, got twice as much snow as expected. Some schools are closed for the rest of the week.”

“So much for just one extra night, huh?” Rosé clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something,” she joked. At least, she was mostly joking, depending on Denali’s reaction.

The slightest smile tugged at Denali’s lips. “I don’t know, maybe-” her train of thought stopped short when she heard Rosé’s phone get a few texts, which in and of itself would have been fine, but she noticed the redhead had glanced at the screen and was now actively trying to avoid looking at it again. “Who is it?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing important, don’t worry about it. What were you saying?” she prompted, desperate to keep the focus off of her phone.

But Denali crossed her arms, undeterred. She would recognize that look on Rosé’s face a mile away - one of panic tinged with guilt. “Your rebound date canceled on you, huh?”

Rosé groaned. “It’s not like that! I wasn’t gonna rebound with Mik!”

“I didn’t say her name.”

Her face flushed red and she stammered as she tried to reply. “But I know that’s who you meant,” she insisted. “You’ve been convinced that I was gonna have an affair with her ever since we started hanging out outside of the band.” She had gotten close to the group’s roadie rather quickly, but she had sworn up and down from day one that Denali had nothing to worry about. “Yes, I do find her attractive, but I just don’t get why you have this… vendetta against her.”

“A vendetta? Is that what you think this is?” Denali scoffed. “I like Mik, I think she’s great, this isn’t about anything she’s done,” she pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to find her words before she spoke. “Maybe if you had some self-awareness for one fucking minute, you’d realize how unsubtle you’ve been. Don’t you try to gaslight me, I’ve seen how you look at her.”

“I’m not trying to gaslight you. I just don’t understand why you’re so convinced I would even think of doing something like that to you. Look, I get that my eyes wander sometimes, but it hurts that you don’t trust me because you know goddamn well I would’ve never done anything to hurt you. And for the record, Mik has a girlfriend anyway,” Her voice was tense with frustration as she spoke. While she couldn’t claim complete innocence, she felt like she was being put on an unfair defensive, as was often the case with this sore subject.

Denali’s jaw clenched as she swallowed thickly. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?” she hissed through gritted teeth, stalking off into the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

Rosé felt that pang of sadness in her chest again, doing her best to quell it. She was left feeling like they had broken up all over again, and she couldn’t put herself through that heartache again when it was still healing from the first time. Out of curiosity, she picked her phone up to see what Mik had texted her, only to let out a bitter laugh when she realized her roadie only had a few questions about returning their equipment for the band’s canceled gigs. “Should’ve just kept my fucking mouth shut,” she grunted.

And Denali wasn’t faring much better while Rosé picked up the figurative pieces of their argument. “Maybe if you weren’t such an insecure, needy baby, she wouldn’t have been looking at other women in the first place,” she muttered to herself, only to follow up by rationalizing, “she knew what she was signing up for, that’s not my fault.” She hoped that talking through her feelings, replaying the fight in her mind, would give her clarity and alleviate some of the hurt. But she found herself just as angry as before.

The rest of the day was spent avoiding each other, something that proved difficult while confined to the apartment. Whenever they were in the same room, they avoided eye contact and tried to get out of each other’s way as quickly as possible. They ate their meals at separate times, all but treating each other like strangers.

While Rosé was in the shower, Denali rifled through the cabinets to find her menorah and candles. She set it up on the counter island and took out the candles, then stared blankly at it for several moments. With a heavy sigh, she realized her heart just wasn’t in it and retired to her room, leaving the menorah and candles where they were.

But when Denali wandered out in the middle of the night in search of a snack, she noticed the candles were set up in the menorah and lit, that and the moon being the only sources of light in the room. She glanced over at Rosé, who was passed out on the couch, then back at the display and couldn’t help but smile. “She even got them in the right spots,” she observed in a whisper, taking her snack and starting back towards the room.

She stopped as she passed the couch, lingering and watching her sleeping ex-girlfriend for a moment, unable to articulate the emotions it stirred up in her if she tried. Then, with both fondness and melancholy in her voice, she murmured, “well, happy Hanukkah, Rosie.”

#rosnali #rosenali #rpdr rpf

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sweeethinny · 3 years

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Colors

started with a one shot because I wanted to write about someone fighting with Snape during an Order meeting (because God knows I would)

ended with me writing three moments of a world where jily lives, Sirius and Hestia happen, and it takes place in 1995

TW: the first one shot - BLACK - talks about an anxiety attack, so if you don't want to read about it, just skip to the next color: YELLOW

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Black. {respect, death, isolation, fear, loneliness.}

Sirius felt like he was going to lose his mind, and he probably would.

Memories of a past he tries so hard to forget keep coming back to him at night, preventing him from sleeping, which automatically prevents him from living as a normal human being.

But it's only when Dumbledore forbids him to leave the house for anything - Moody thinks he's too unstable - that Sirius freaks out.

He breaks everything in the attic, absolutely nothing escapes his anger. He rips up stupid family portraits, smashes stupid ceramic cups, burns old newspapers that proudly displayed a picture of the Black family on the cover - a photo he wasn't in. Sirius feels he could blow up that house if it weren't for James, Lily and Harry living there. It's basically what keeps him from ending that stupid legacy that haunts him like a death spell.

He picks up that stupid box of pictures he hid before before everyone arrives - because he's ashamed -, and starts burning them one by one with his wand, hating more than anything to notice there aren't any pictures of him in there. He's been completely erased from the family, and Sirius thinks it's a pain that will never go away.

Watching Regulus's cheerful face burn through photo after photo, enrages him even more. The golden boy, the most perfect of all, while he has his name burned on the wall, and everything that could show that were two brothers before, erased like a single misspelled word in a letter.

He doesn't exist there, only his bedroom remains, which is one of the rooms he avoids the most, although it's the only one left to prove that he once lived there.

He hates that house, he feels like marching to his parents' grave and screaming at them, and screaming at that stupid portrait of his mother until there's no more air in his lungs, because she did that to him. She's turned him into this unstable madman who needs to be chained indoors like a dog while the others work for him.

Before he could do anything else, James intervened.

And at first Sirius hated him to do that, because how could James care so much for someone like him? He wanted to scream and push James from upstairs, wanted him to leave him alone, but suddenly he didn't want any of that anymore. Then Sirius began to shamelessly cry like a child on his best friend's shoulder, sobbing as if someone had hit him.

James didn't say anything, because he was a good friend after all, just stood there, hugging Sirius and hoping that whatever happened to him would pass and he'd calm down.

Sirius felt like crap for not being as good as James.

"I'm here with you," James said, as he would say to Harry or Lily. ''Everything will be fine.''

''No, James, you know it’s not that easy, I... I can't stand being in here anymore, there's a memory wherever I look, I... Dumbledore took everything I had left, I want my freedom back, I want my motorcycle, I want my wife I want my house...'' Later, Sirius would be embarrassed for sounding so weak, but right now, he couldn't care less.

"Hestia will be here in a few days, and… it will all be over as quickly as it started, you'll see, by Christmas you'll be back to your routine."

‘’It's not true, Prongs, you know it's not. We've been in this shit for years now, I feel like I'm going to die any second.”

"You won't, I won't let you," James promises, hugging him even tighter.

Yellow. {light, warmth, relaxation, optimism, joy}

Hestia first entered Grimmauld Place during the night, a storm was falling outside and her body was cold and tense. She just wanted to see him, for Merlin's sake, just make sure he was okay. She made sure not to make so much noise because Lily said in the letter that there was a horrible portrait of Sirius' mother who would scream if you woke her up, and Hestia didn't have the patience for that.

She's had horrible days now that she's had to travel further into the woods—which doesn't help her research at all—and has been prevented from talking to him. Hestia had only spoken to Lily once, and she told her that Sirius was not well, which was nothing new as he had to go back to his parents' house and Hestia knew that it would torment him much more than it already did.

But when she arrived in the kitchen she noticed him there, sitting alone at the table, a half-empty bottle of wine and an empty glass in front of him. Sirius had his back to her, but Hestia didn't need to see him to know he had a serious expression on his face.

"You shouldn't drink this time of night," she said, her voice sounding a lot more worried than she imagined it would.

Sirius jumped up from his chair, wand already in hand, gray eyes bulging as he watched her warily. ‘’Tell me about our first time.’’

Hestia laughed. "Only you to ask me that question," She sighed. ''We were at the Potter's house, Euphemia had made the bed in the guest room for me, so I went to say good night but you started kissing me and when I saw it, I was half naked on your bed, wearing a black lingerie, and you was saying you wouldn't let me out of there ever again… Anything else?''

Sirius didn't answer her, just lowered his wand and walked over to Hestia with a face so worried she almost didn't recognize him, his arms enveloping her in a warm, familiar hug that made her bury her head in his shirt, feeling a little foolish for wanting to cry.

"I've missed you so much," Sirius said, his lips against her hair, damp from the rain and a little oily from days without washing it. “Merlin, I thought I was going crazy.” He denies it. "I went crazy actually."

"Lily told me," Hestia hugged him even tighter, wanting Sirius to understand that she was really there, that he wasn't alone. ''How are you?''

"Absolute shit…" He snorted, pulling away from her enough that Hestia could look at him more cautiously. Sunken eyes and cheeks, big dark circles, long hair, stubble… Her heart aches. “But you're here now, so we're stuck in this shit together. You can't run away from me anymore, Jones.”

''Not at all, Moody forbade me to leave the house after I got back, something about,'' Hestia pauses, remembering the unfriendly conversation they had, and how the auror yelled that ''her out-of-control husband nearly killed them ''. Sirius would probably think it was his fault that she couldn't go out anymore. Which was half true, but then again, Hestia didn't help herself when she lost her temper and yelled at Moody back. "About him and Dumbledore not wanting to take chances with one of us out of the house."

“They think I'm crazy, don't they?” His jaw tensed, his gray eyes seeming to burn. "Well, I'm sorry if I didn't keep quiet when I heard someone talking shit about my godson and calling him a liar."

"You don't help Harry at all if you keep threatening other Aurors."

"I know." He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes steady on hers. There was a faint booze smell to him, but nothing to make her think he was completely drunk. "But you know how I am."

"I know," Hestia placed her hands on his face, making a brief caress of his cheek before leaning in to kiss him. "I love you, but I prefer you without that beard."

"I was thinking of making it look like Dumbledore's." Sirius chuckled softly, his eyes still closed and his lips touching hers.

"Do that, and you'll never see the middle of my legs again."

"Ouch, it's not fair," He looked at her, his gray irises gleaming in amusement as he pouted softly.

"Take it or leave it, Black." Hestia pulled away from him, grabbing her suitcase from the floor. “I need to take a shower.” She arched her eyebrows. 'Will you keep me company?'

“Of course, I hear this house is very haunted, so I'll have to stay with you to protect you from the ghosts.” They walked out of the kitchen, taking slow steps so as not to wake the fucking portrait.

''Thank you so much, I'm terrified of haunting.'' Hestia smiled, letting him lead her to his room - which looked strangely untouched - and then to the bathroom, with Sirius talking non-stop about how he would protect and secure her, so that Hestia didn't have her foot pulled during the night.

“We'll have to sleep cuddled together so that doesn't happen.” He took off his shirt, and Merlin, how she missed him. "And no clothes." Sirius waved his wand at the water to fill the tub, then unzipped his pants and took them off along with his underwear.

''I'm sure yes.''

Red. {passion, lust, war, danger, violence}

It is during a meeting of the Order that Hestia loses her temper.

She was sitting next to Sirius and holding hands with him, as they usually are, talking quietly about everything and nothing while Molly doesn't come down and McGonagall doesn't arrive. Everyone is there, she knows it, and every now and then someone looks at the nearly untouched glass of firewhiskey in front of Sirius, but she doesn't care, she keeps talking to him and making him chuckle softly, saying how indecent her new panties are just because she likes to tease him.

And because things are getting more and more tense.

Living in that house didn't just affect Sirius, but she too, and every now and then Hestia finds herself close to breaking everything in sight, blind with rage that Dumbledore has trapped them there like a lab rat, thinking that if Sirius doesn't explode that house, or that damned picture of his mother, she goes.

Anxiety gnaws at her inside and every day she wakes up thinking that this will be the last, tomorrow they will return to their home, safe and sound, enjoying their freedom again, and Hestia won't have to worry about talking portraits and a elf that pisses her off, no matter how kind she tries to be.

But when Snape speaks - something she's been ignoring since he arrived - she just can't take it anymore.

''Like Black could do anything, being trapped in here.'' He says, in that petulant tone he's been throwing at her, Sirius, James and Lily every meeting, and Hestia's chest burns, finally finding a good target to take out all her anger.

She knew Lily said it was best to ignore him, she tried to do it, but Hestia couldn't do it anymore, not when Dumbledore trapped them there now that they were no longer useful making them almost insane. Driving Sirius insane! How can he trap him in the only house he knows would affect him, in an environment where for years he's been frowned upon and unloved, making him wake up the demons that have long been sleeping.

Sirius was getting sick in there and Dumbledore couldn't care less.

Without saying a word she reached for her wand at her hip, standing up and nearly knocking over the chair behind her, making everyone look at her as she sewed Snape's mouth shut and stopped him from talking any more, eyes getting huge in his face.

"Speak one more time of my husband and I'll kill you, and I'm not even kidding," Hestia said, her voice low and her eyes hard on that coward. ''I've killed a lot of Death Eaters in the last few years, and I would have done it to you in a blink if Dumbledore hadn't convinced himself that you're worth some shit. But I don't believe it, Snape, I know you, you're nothing more than a scared coward who runs when sees the boat sinking, so think twice before talking about my husband, because I can kill you without you even seeing where the spell came from.'' She undid the invisible ropes that they kept his mouth shut, and the man let out an exaggeratedly long breath of air, but Hestia didn't mind.

She sat back down, feeling her heart beat much faster than normal, hot blood rushing through her veins and making her feel feverish.

Sirius smiled, putting his arm over her shoulder and staring at Severus near the other end of the table, his eyes blazing with anger but still looking too scared to speak. Coward.

It didn't take long for the meeting to start, obviously Dumbledore being an idiot every time he needed to talk to her, probably wanting to remind her who was in charge here, like he did at Hogwarts. Well, she hadn't been his student for years now, so she couldn't have cared less about it, honestly.

#my fic #jily lives #sirius x hestia #anti snape #sirius black #padfoot #hestia jones

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artificialqueens · 2 years

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Time For Miracles, Chapter 1 (Rosnali) - Joley

ao3 link

But three o’clock came and passed. Then four. Then five. It was nearly six that Rosé got a call from Jackie. “Where the hell are you?”

“I lost service,” Jackie explained. “The blizzard’s too intense. I can’t make it out today, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be out as soon as it’s safe.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Denali shouted back.

“Winds have hit fifty miles per hour with no clear signs of letting up. We can expect this to last through the night and wake up to roughly twelve to fourteen inches of snow in the morning.”

Denali didn’t acknowledge her presence either, walking right towards the kitchen and taking out various ingredients from the refrigerator and cupboards.

Unable to feign disinterest, Rosé shifted to watch her over the back of the couch, then furrowed her brows. “How many people are you cooking for?”

“God forbid Denali Foxx leaves anything to chance,” the redhead scoffed, then cleared her throat awkwardly. “Do you… need help?”

She shook her head. “No, but you can feed Donut.”

They didn’t talk, the silence filled by the news playing on the TV. “And with that,” the anchor was saying, “Hanukkah is off to quite the snowy start.”

“Fuck,” Denali cursed under her breath, “I better call my grandma.” She finished the rest of her meal promptly before getting up and going back into her bedroom to make the call.

“She said hi,” Denali remarked as she entered the room. “She did always like you… poor thing must be senile.”

She started to laugh, then furrowed her brows, “I can’t tell if you’re joking or being mean,” she admitted.

“Take it as you will.”

Rosé shook her head. “God, you’re such a cunt when you wanna be.”

She shrugged. “Takes one to know one.” There was a beat of silence after that, an apology trying to force its way past her stubborn lips. Finally, she started with, “I-”

Denali sat up as she mulled it over. “Nah,” she decided as she laid back down, “I’ll just light two tomorrow.”

“Makes sense,” she mumbled, rolling back over to face away from her. “Night.”

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing important, don’t worry about it. What were you saying?” she prompted, desperate to keep the focus off of her phone.

But Denali crossed her arms, undeterred. She would recognize that look on Rosé’s face a mile away - one of panic tinged with guilt. “Your rebound date canceled on you, huh?”

Rosé groaned. “It’s not like that! I wasn’t gonna rebound with Mik!”

“I didn’t say her name.”

#rpdr fanfiction #time for miracles #joley #lesbian au #rosnali #rosé #denali foxx

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itsuki-minamy · 3 years

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“KEBAB SPECIAL TOTSUKA”

* Mini Episodes KFCN (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

Totsuka Tatara started selling doner kebab at a street food stall, because his friend Murat Uchan from Turkey exacerbated his chronic back pain.

"Tatara-san. I'm sorry, but could you take over the shop for about two weeks?"

Before moving to Shizume, Uchan-san, who has been in Osaka for 10 years, consulted with Totsuka, and when he asked about it, he said "Yes, it's okay." and he took it easy. Totsuka immediately drove Uchan-san's mobile kitchen vehicle from the next day to open the shop.

From the preparation of the lamb for the kebabs to the operation, he does everything himself and makes a certain amount of operating profit, although he is not as good as Uchan-san. No matter how much experience he had working part-time, he helped Uchan-san's mobile shop several times in advance, but his culinary skills and managerial sense were far from amateurish.

However, after the first day, Totsuka Tatara's face (albeit smiling as usual) didn't look very happy. Thoughtfully he crossed his arms and devised some plans in his head.

And starting the next day he made some changes in the business style. Of course, with the permission of the Uchan-san.

First, he changed the taste of the kebab. Originally, Uchan-san, who has lived in Japan for a long time, added the Hatcho Miso to the hidden flavor and fixed it for the Japanese, but brought it back to a more ethnic and authentic flavor. There are many foreigners in Shizume and a wide variety of restaurants is thriving, so it was decided that it would be easier to accept.

In addition, the location of the business was moved from the front of the station to the plaza. He makes the most of personal connections, prepare nice chairs, tables and umbrellas, and create an environment where you can eat immediately after taking out. He also changes the paper to a more colorful, modern and more "shiny" one. As a result, the number of clients, mainly young women, increased significantly.

About two days before Uchan-san returned, Totsuka just couldn't go to the store and started hiring Yata as a temporary part-time job.

And his prosperity caught the attention of the lord of the square.

"It's annoying, you…"

At night, a burly man wearing an eye patch appeared in front of Totsuka and Yata, who were preparing to remove the shop, lifted his head neatly, and it was amazing.

"Ah? Who are you?"

Yata, who was not so scared, stood in front of the big man without making a difference in height and ignited the weapon.

"Is he a gangster on the floor? It was a shame if he could get it even for the shoba fee. I'm making a mistake."

"Yata. That person is different. That person is not a gangster."

Totsuka laughed and stepped between the two.

"He is the owner of the 'Man's Innocence'. You see, he is a ramen stand that he opened in front of the fountain."

In addition to the Totsuka kebabs, there are several street vendors operating in this square. Totsuka successfully obtained a business license from the square administration office, and politely greeted each shop, who are his sempais, on the first day. And now, while the owner of the "innocence of man" was standing in front of them...

"Oh, good luck at best."

He raised his voice saying that.

"Did we do something that bothers you?"

When Totsuka asked with a smile,

"No, not really."

The great man finally laughed.

"Suddenly you got sick, so I wonder if you'll be open elsewhere from tomorrow."

(Totsuka-san.)

Yata hid his voice from him and listened.

(This guy has been flirting with us because our kebabs have increased in sales.)

He knew Totsuka and so on.

"What if I say no?"

When Yata screamed and provoked,

"That's right. I don't care... I wonder if an unfortunate accident might happen to him."

The big man spread his hands playfully. He flicked his finger to the side and stuck out his tongue like a villain. Totsuka sighed a little.

"I understand your purpose. So why not do this? Tomorrow, we will compete with the sales of others. And if we lose, we will leave here. How about that?"

"Hmm... okay? Don't you know I've been the number one salesperson in the area for the past few years?"

"Oh. Instead, if we win, can you change the name of your stand, the 'Loser Dog Ramen'? The 'Man's Innocence' sign was always annoying."

Totsuka spat venom as he smiled. He seems mild-mannered, and he is one of Homura's executives, but in an emergency, he will cut off that image. Yata whistled. When the big man frowned...

"You will swallow your words!"

He left that place with abrupt steps. Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and laughed.

Originally, he only came to this plaza temporarily to facilitate Totsuka to do so, and a few days later, if he returned the traveling shop to Uchan-san, the place of business would simply return to the front of the station as before, so, to be honestly, he deliberately bothered to compete in sales, etc. It doesn't make much sense to do it. However, he was willing to accept such threatening words.

"Well, I want to pop a bubble."

That was the case with Totsuka. And Yata also strongly agreed.

The next day, the day of the decisive battle. The sky was clear. As it was a holiday, there were a lot of people. As a rule of the square, the business hours of the stalls are established from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. During that time, the game was how many sales could be increased.

A bowl of ramen costs 600 yen. The kebab costs 500 yen. There is not much difference in price, so simply the number sold will be the game.

The ramen preceded a bit in the morning, but the kebabs gradually started to come off around noon.

"It's amazing! Totsuka-san!"

Yata, who was rushing to cut the meat while he was sweating on his forehead, said that. After wrapping the kebab and handing it to the customer with a smile, Totsuka replied.

"Hey. I advertised a lot."

Totsuka knows everything about this city. How many people are there, in what time zone, and in what age group. Akagi and Bando, who are not at this location, were allowed to distribute promotional brochures at key points in Shizume.

He has also opened a SNS account on behalf of Uchan-san, who had been indifferent to such things for about a week. The announcement there was gradually beginning to take effect.

After fourteen, the victory of the kebab seemed certain...

"Well, isn't it strange?"

Yata asked a question. He was really interested in Totsuka. On the ramen side, the customer base had started to change.

"Man's Innocence" usually had five seats, but today, towards a special eight-seat chair and table around the booth, it was uncomfortable to see all of them, similar, it was occupied by men with a pleasant atmosphere.

They never get up from their seats after eating a bowl of ramen and continue to eat two or three bowls on the spot. Some people look at this and grin or strike a provocative pose.

Then, when he noticed Totsuka's eyes, the owner of "Man's Innocence" crossed his arms behind the counter and smiled a triumphant smile.

Totsuka coughed in a dazed and slightly amused tone.

"I see. Is it a strategy to fill all the seats with your relatives and just replace them no matter if they pretend to be?"

Yata shook his body in anger and clenched his fist.

"Damn."

"Totsuka-san, are you silent?"

Yata said that with the intention of "Let's go hit him." Totsuka scratched his head.

"Hmm. In the beginning, I didn't have any special arrangement to forbid that sort of thing."

To be honest, it is not a violation of the rules. Yata made a plaintive voice.

"Damn."

At that moment, the sight in Totsuka's eyes jumped and he smiled.

"Well, it seems we also have a god of salvation."

Yata also followed Totsuka's line of sight and raised his voice in joy.

"Kamamoto!"

It was Rikio Kamamoto who calmly appeared at the scene.

"What? I heard it from Shohei and the others. If you have a food store, give me a call."

"Eat all you want."

Totsuka immediately told Yata to start preparing more kebab.

In the end, "Man's Innocence" dug his grave by his own strategy. Few strong young men can continue to eat three or four cups of ramen, but Kamamoto is like a kebab. Like sushi and sandwiches, he tossed them into his mouth and ate one after another.

The owner of "Man's Innocence" finished with only an hour left until the closing of the store. When he walked to the front of Totsuka, he took off the headband that was wrapped around his head and took it, tilting his head as he held it in front of his body.

"Well, I give up. It may be unpleasant though, but can you forgive me for changing the signboard?"

Totsuka and Yata looked at each other and smiled.

"Now…"

"That I have to do?"

They were a bit mean and wanted to do it.

"Well, don't raise your head anymore. We won, but you don't have to change the signboard."

"Oh, yeah. At first, we weren't serious either. Oh! Were we the only ones who won?"

Suddenly, the two of them ran out and urged the owner of "Man's Innocence" to raise his head. The owner moistened his eyes.

"Oh, you are a good guy."

He was impressed. However, Totsuka and Yata knew it. Kamamoto, who enjoyed the kebab to the bottom of his heart, made his way towards "Man's Innocence" as he tossed his stomach to change his mood.

Eventually the game was abandoned and Totsuka successfully completed the period entrusted to him and returned the kebab stand to Uchan-san.

Both Totsuka and Yata made a lot of money, but it must have been Kamamoto, who was able to eat delicious food from the bottom of his heart, at the level of once a year or not, who was more satisfied than anyone else.

#k #k project #k fan clan #homura #yata misaki #totsuka tatara #k stories #k seven stories

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neo-culture-mafia · 4 years

Text

My Peace (w.ykh)

the cutest boy ever

— Warnings: Bruises

— Genres: Fluffy, warm and overall adorable uwu.

— Words: 1.6k

— Summary: “He used to think he didn't deserve to be loved, and that the life he had was too dangerous for him to ever let anyone in. But you worked your way through his heart and proved him wrong, right when he thought he could never enjoy being wrong before.”

— Requested by @min-inu “I'm new to this blog (I love it) and I'm a huge fluff enthusiast 🥺 Can I request something with Lucas (+ female reader? I don't know if I have to specify) where he comes home from work late at night and he's stressed because a deal went wrong (or something else) but as soon as he sees the reader who is barely awake and waiting for him he feels calmer and she does things to cheer him up (lots of cuddles and kisses, maybe a cute date too). Also can I request more than once if it's not a problem?”

— A/N: I absolutely loved your request 🥺 I was craving for some Yukhei's content and didn’t even know it lol And please, feel free to send in more requests, okay? I hope you enjoy this!!

To say he was pissed was an understatement. When Lucas came back to the base and Kun put his eyes on him, he already knew Yukhei was about to explode. After he got in Neo Culture, Yukhei learned how to control his anger issue, but he still had problems with coping with failure.

“Can I give my reports to you tomorrow?” Yukhei asked, staring right at the floor, too afraid that he would explode at himself if he looked at his leader's disappointed expression. If only he knew Kun was way more worried than disappointed.

“You don't have to do this, you know?” Kun turned his chair so he would be staring at the window instead of Yukhei's face. “Avoid looking at me. Feeling shame at yourself. We'll manage to close that deal.”

“They attacked us. I don't think there's a deal to be considered anymore.” Yukhei murmured, closing his eyes and trying the hardest that he could to not start punching and kicking stuff around him. Neo Culture was the family he had never had. The feeling that he somehow had failed the only people who welcomed him do their own home was barely unbearable.

“We're all alive, aren't we?” Kun questioned, slightly turning his face to the side so he could look at the younger one behind him. Yukhei was still afraid to look at his leader, but as he managed to shily give him some attention, he was met with a warm smile coming from the older one. “Then, we'll figure out something. As long as we're together, we can achieve whatever we put our focus to.” He turned his chair back to its initial position, forcing Yukhei to stare at the floor again as he checked his wristwatch.“It's late. Don't worry about your reports, we can do this tomorrow. Go be with Y/N. She is in your dormitory.”

For the first time since he had entered the room, Yukhei face seemed to be no longer twisted by anger anymore, thanks to the mention of your name.

“She's here? I thought she was at home.” He looked right at Kun's eyes, making the leader's smile go even bigger from before. Young love was really adorable. “Yeah, she said something about not wanting to leave you alone after a tiring mission,” Kun added, grabbing a few papers and starting to go over them. He only looked at Yukhei again when he realized the young man was still sitting on his office’s chair. “... why are you not running there yet? Go! You're dismissed!” he exclaimed, pointing at the door and proceeding to laugh at the sight of Lucas running out of his office.

If before Lucas' heart was beating fast from anger, now his heart was beating fast at the thought of seeing you. Besides Neo Culture, the only person who allowed him to be himself with no judgments at sight was you. You had nothing to do with his lifestyle. You weren’t part of the mafia, and God forbids if you ever demonstrated any interest in the business. Yukhei's mind wouldn’t even know how to proceed with the constant feeling that he could lose you at any second.

The only thing that kept him from exploding when he was in the field was the thought of being in your arms again. He needed to come back and see that beautiful smile of yours one more time. And that’s the first thing his eyes started to look for after he had opened the door.

You were close to his desk, apparently taking some food out of plastic bags, and even if he was indeed almost dying from starving, his first impulse was to run and hug you from behind. Your perfume turning to be the only thing he could smell, blocking all of his senses from anything else that wasn't related to you. He could tell you were tired since your whole body almost jumped when he suddenly hugged you.

“You’re back!” You exclaimed with a smile on your face as you felt your boyfriend's face resting on your shoulder. He had his eyes closed and some bruises on his cheek, but he looked pretty much alive to you, and that was all that mattered. “Uh oh. We should take care of those. Sit on the bed, I prepared everything. Including food, but since I didn’t know if you preferred Mexican, Korean, or Japanese, I ordered them all.” You started to blab, hoping to get a smile from your playful boyfriend, but as he just stayed still, you began to worry. “Baby? What is it? Is everyone okay?” You asked, turning around to face him properly, being careful when touching his body.

As he opened his eyes to look at you, any words he could possibly say just disappeared at the sight of you. Your messy hair confirmed his suspicions that you had probably dozed off at some point of the night. Your swollen eyes tipped off that at some point you thought he wasn't coming back and then proceeded to cry. Your worried gaze confirmed how relieved you were for seeing him only with a few bruises. Your lips saying that you loved him made his smile finally appear as he realized how much he loved you. And he hated the thought that Neo Culture wasn't the only one who he failed tonight. He failed the person he loved the most in the entire world when he didn't show you how grateful he was for still being alive. For being by your side. His favorite and most loved place to be.

You were his personal place of peace. And you needed to know it.

“I love you. Oh God, I love you so much. I never thought I would love someone as much as I love you.” He pushed you a little so he could start pecking all over your face, making both of you giggle at his action. “You kind of scared me for a second.” You pushed him a little and smiled at how bright his face now looked. “There is nothing to worry about. Not when I’m with you.” He replied to you with the words he was actually saying to himself.

The world outside could wait. All the violence, gunshots, and uncertainty could wait. Now, he was with his personal gift from heaven. The one capable of bringing the best out of him. His one and only. His Everything.

“Look, I do appreciate all the kisses and stuff but I won't stop bothering you until you let me take care of your bruises.” You pecked his lips and then started to walk backward, holding both of your boyfriend's big hands, seeing the biggest smile appear to his face. “Okay doc, treat me.”

In a matter of seconds, you were sitting on your bed, having Lucas’ head laying on your lap as you cleaned his cheek bruises with a cotton pad. He had his eyes closed so he could just enjoy your touch, and as much as you loved seeing him relax, which rarely happened, you wanted to fill him in on what you did during the days he spent on mission. Especially when you knew he didn’t like to talk about the missions when he was tired.

"So, I met Mark's girlfriend." You started, causing Yukhei to look at you with a puzzled expression on his face. "Mark's girlfriend? What was she doing here?" "She came here to get a few papers. Something about her and Mark going on a vacation." You shrugged, gently closing Yukhei's eyes with your fingertips so you could clean the bruises on his eyelid. "We went out for a meal together. She reminds me so much of Mark, it's almost like they're the same person. No wonder she's dating him for four years, they really complement each other well."

"They really do. I'm still waiting for the wedding invitation of those two." Yukhei commented, making you laugh at the situation your newest friend had told you. "Oh, you're gonna have to wait a little more then. Mark almost freaked out some days ago thinking that she wanted him to propose when she actually wanted to adopt a dog together!" Yukhei couldn't help but laugh at how Mark that sounded like. "That sounds like something Mark would do, for sure."

"I know, right? He almost freaked her out too, she thought he wanted to break up or something." You added, putting two stitches on your boyfriend's worst bruises and letting your hand go and play with his messy silver hair. "I'm done. Now, we should get some food in that belly of yours."

"What? No, right when it's starting to get good!" he whined, pouting like the big baby you knew he was. "You can take a shower first if you like, but if I know you enough, you're starving,” You pointed at the small desk full of delicious smelling food. "and that’s why I got your favorites. The burrito is smelling especially nice tonight." "You're unbelievably perfect, and that was the lowest punch ever, but I still love you anyway.” He stated, giving you a quick peck before getting up from the bed and running towards the desk.

...

"So, now that I'm no longer starving and smelling nice thanks to that cologne you gave, what do you say about..." Yukhei stopped himself from talking and drying his hair with a towel when he noticed your sleeping figure evolved in a warm blanket.

I knew you were tired. Yukhei smiled at the view, silently giggling at his own thoughts. There weren't enough words to describe how much he appreciated all the effort you did to make him feel comfortable after missions. He knew you abdicated a lot from your life for the two of you to be together, things you thought you couldn't live without, like your freedom to walk around with no bodyguards. And even though he tried to push you away to stop you from getting too close to him, you two just couldn't be apart. You consciously chose to be with him, and he loved you so damn much for that.

As he laid down next to you, slightly pulling you closer, and placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he voiced out the words with the most affection he had ever put into words before:

"You are my peace, baby. I will always come back to you, no matter what happens.”

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pettyprocrastination · 4 years

Text

Rip Out Our Seams and Stitch Us Together

Maxwell Lord x Valerie Lord x Black!Reader

Chapter Three

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Straight up smut first thing in the fic, we startin’ off with a bang folks. Profanity, they stare at ur booty ;). Ur patience is TESTED by these rich idiots.

Chapter Summary: The great Maxwell lord is having trouble focusing lately, You have your first consultation with the famed Lord couple and realize their clashing styles and all around personalities may cause an issue (or cause you to kill somebody).

Tag List: @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @zeldasayer @readsalot73 @captainsamwlsn

Chapters: 1/2/3

(I will not stop using marilyn gifs for val she’s just so beautiful you guys hhhhh)

Max felt distracted. Muddled. He wasn’t sure what it was lately that had him in such a rut.

“Maxwell!” His secretary whimpered beneath him, his hand moved from gripping her hair to slapping over her mouth to try and silence her nails-on-a-chalkboard like voice. He wasn’t sure if anybody outside his office heard her, and if they did he couldn't care less. They knew by now to ignore any suspicious moans or groans and keep doing their job unless they wanted to lose it.

What she should have known by now is to never call him by his first name.

The company was doing good, it was doing great in fact. He and Valerie weren’t spending time together, which was usual, and Alastair was home for the summer. Nothing was out of place, so why did he feel off?

Maybe it was you.

That ridiculous seamstress with the even more ridiculous nickname and ridiculous outfits. I mean Stitches? What were you, a fucking dog?

Delilah, the secretary currently moaning beneath him like a cheap whore, tried to grip at his jacket with trembling hands as he pulled her closer and closer to her climax with each thrust. He slapped her hands away without even looking down at her, eyes squeezed shut as he chased his own release instead of attending to hers.

Valerie insisted he go to the “design consultation” with her today, which meant leaving his office in the middle of a goddamn work day to hear her prattle on about what color makes her feel the prettiest. Usually he’d stand his ground and refuse, but lately a break from work didn’t seem all that bad.

All because of his goddamn secretary.

The woman in question grabbed onto his wrist and cried against his hand, even muffled he could still hear her grating moans. Lately she’d been cuddly with him after each screw, trying to nuzzle his shoulder and ask for things like he was some pathetic sob paying for a sugar baby instead of her fucking boss.

He’d have to fire her soon, if her whiny voice didn’t do her in, the piss poor work ethic would.

But for a moment, when he looked down at her, with her back arched and eyes shut as she fluttered around his cock, he was reminded of that ridiculous seamstress, the little noise of surprise you made when he clamped a hand over your mouth, and just how soft your skin felt under his palm.

Maxwell would never admit this to anybody. But that image alone made him cum on the spot.

Maxwell Lord was a man who learned how to compartmentalize at a young age and never stopped doing so. He pulled out of the boneless woman beneath him, before cleaning himself up and tucking himself into his trousers while she laid against his desk, panting like a dog in the heat.

Not like she fucking did anything.

His ringed hand landed a stinging slap to her thigh that shocked her out of her blissful haze. “I’ll be out for the rest of the day, take my calls and let them know I won’t be back in until tomorrow.”

She blinked, watching owlishly as he grabbed his briefcase from his desk before walking out of his office. “Where are you going?” The way she sounded so disappointed and shaky as if he had broken a promise to her made him feel nauseous.

He didn’t bother giving her a response.

----

The moment his driver parked outside of the store, he saw a convertible drive up to the curb before stopping, he knew the cherry red color better than anyone, as it’s the same shade of the car he gifted Valerie for their five year anniversary.

She stepped out, avoiding the jump in the curb as she adjusted her hair and dress before her eyes landed on his car and flashed him a condescending smile.

Maxwell knew even though he was only two seconds later than she was, Valerie would still hold it over his head like a treat. He stepped out of the car, mindful of any gutter water around him this time and walked to his wife.

“I wish I could say you're fashionably late at least but-” Her blue eyes ran down his suit, brand name and costly before smirking. “-you didn’t even bring that to the table.”

He let out a short humorless laugh before taking the handle of the door.

“Oh? No witty remark about my outfit?” The woman feigned surprise as her husband raked his eyes down the baby blue dress that stopped just above her knees and fit her curves like a glove.

Valerie Lord held a doctorate and multiple books studying the human mind and the effects shaping childhood, she was an intelligent woman. Which meant she knew damn well just how good she looked.

She just wanted to hear him admit it.

“It looks good.” He said plainly, not hiding the way his eyes clung to the supple form of her thighs that she teased under a white sundress just last week.

The curve in her red lips was the closest he’d gotten to an honest smile from her in ages. “You should know. You bought it for me after all.”

“I’m a man of refined tastes.” Max answered simply before giving her an almost playful swat on the ass and opening the door for her.

The moment they entered the girl at the register from before, young and anxious, looked at them with wide eyes. A textbook laid open on the counter in front of her.

She gaped for a moment before Valerie smiled at her.

“Hello sweetheart.” His wife cooed, “We’re here for a consultation with the bosslady, mind letting her know for me?”

The girl pointed to an open door against the back wall. “She takes her consultations in that room.”

Valerie gave the young girl a quick pat on the cheek before walking into the room and calling out “Thank you dear!” over her shoulder.

“Did you have to talk to the kid?” Maxwell mumbled under his breath to his wife, who scoffed in reply.

“Well I wasn’t about to stand there in silence and scare the poor girl half to death like you were.”

Maxwell looked at her incredulously. “I was not scar-”

His denials were cut off upon entering the room, which was laid with multiple chairs surrounding a table, covered in books displaying different types of dress and suit styles, a few fabric swatches were spread out as well. But the main focus of the Lords was on you, currently bent over, digging through a large container in the corner of the room as you grumbled and huffed, hips swaying and ass raised high in the air as if presented to them like a gift.

One they admired greatly and for much too long to be deemed socially acceptable.

Valerie tilted her head to the side with a little hum, enjoying the view before her just as Maxwell did, before he eventually coughed into his fist to make themselves known.

You jumped up at an angle from surprise, accidentally thumping your head against the wall. A shouted curse left your lips as you rubbed your head.

“Hard at work or hardly working?” Maxwell droned.

“You're late.”

His wife smiled. “And you're exceptionally perky.”

“What?”

His elbow dug into her side. “What she meant to say was that we live busy lives. But we're here now so let’s get this over with.”

The three of you took seats at the table in the middle of the room, you handed each of them a design booklet before flipping open a blank notebook for yourself.

“Any initial idea’s the pair of you have?” You twirled the pencil between your fingers as you spoke. “Or at least any automatic no’s?”

“Nothing too loud.” Maxwell told you.

“Or too dull.” His wife added.

“No floral.”

“But don’t be afraid to use patterns.”

“No sparkles.”

“No tweed.”

“And absolutely no plaid.” They finished together. You stared at the list on your paper before blowing out a long breath.

“Alright. So you don’t want anything dull, but also not loud, but no patterns, but use patterns, nothing with sparkles, or tweed and-”

“No plaid.” They reminded you in unison.

“Uh, right. No plaid.” You didn’t enjoy them as separate people but somehow they were even worse together. “So is there anything the two of you can agree on wanting?”

“Color coordination.” Max told you. Your shoulders dropped with relief. Fucking finally.

“Okay. Okay that I can work with.” A steady stream of ideas began in your head. The accent colors of Maxwell’s suit would match the main color of Valerie’s dress.

“We’d have to match Alastair as well.”

Your pencil froze on the page. “Who?”

Maxwell’s brows cinched together. He seemed offended by the fact you didn’t know who was the poor bastard who got stuck with that ridiculous name.

“Our son.” He answered. “But don’t worry about making anything for him. He won’t be accompanying us anyways.”

“And why not?” His wife countered. She had turned in her chair to face her husband with an angry look. With each passing minute this started to feel more like couples counseling than a consultation to make them some fucking clothes.

“Because the gala is in September, dear.” His voice was so sickly sweet you could practically feel the patronization dripping off of it. “He’ll be back at the boarding school by then.”

Of course this kid goes to boarding school. Eventually you just zoned out their argument and began to draw up ideas. It’s probably better the kid is away from these two though. God forbid you meet what type of monster they made.

“For how much money you pay that damn school it’s a miracle you don’t know their schedule. He has a two week break in September at the same time of the gala.” “For what?” Max damn near shouted. At this point you abandoned your notebook and pencil in favor of rubbing your temples.

“I don’t know. Some dead president, I'm not on the school board!”

“Well maybe you-”

“ALRIGHT!”

The pair stopped arguing and shot back to you, eyes wide at the sheer audacity you had to shout at them.

Nobody shouted at them.

“I’ll make a suit for the kid, okay?” You explained weakly. “Could we please, just, get to the actual goddamn design you two want?”

Valerie stared at you, before looking at her husband who had the same “Well I’ll be damned” look on his face as her. She tilted her head to the side and he shrugged in response.

The heavy use of non-verbal communication they had just made you feel like even more of an outsider.

“Well I don’t see why not.” Maxwell sighed, grabbing one of the books in front and flipped through the suits in it. “I blocked out the rest of my day for this anyways.”

The pair spent the next hour and a half flipping through design books and pointing out to you what they liked and what they hated.

They seemed to hate a lot.

But you still learned enough about them to cross out some ideas and begin finalizing others. While Maxwell could wear a solid colored dark suit, he didn’t box himself in that way. He enjoyed a notch lapel type with pinstripes, and seemed quite partial to robin egg blue given how often he pointed out the color on other designs.

Valerie enjoyed solid color dresses rather than those with patterns on them, and while she often wore clothes made to hug her figure, each gown she pointed out flared out at the waist, reminiscent of a princess at a ball.

Their son, well you had no idea what the kid liked. But given he was a child, he probably hated most suits, as certain brands were just as scratchy as they were expensive, so you made note to find something especially soft to make it out for their child, who’s suit would most likely mirror his father’s.

Eventually you pushed away from the table, four pages full of notes and concepts as you rubbed your eyes. “I think that will be enough for today.”

“Poor thing.” Maxwell simpered with pursed lips. “Are we tiring the baby?”

Valerie slapped her husband’s shoulder. “Maxwell don’t be rude. Of course the poor girl is exhausted. Just look at the bags beneath her eyes!”

You spared a glance up at them to place a hand over your heart. “It truly is a blessing to be working with you both. A gift if I’m being honest.”

Valerie stood up from the table and set a hand on your shoulder as you walked them out. When she walked close enough you were surrounded with the citrus perfume she wore the last time she came over. “Oh we’re just kidding. You show a lot of promise Stitches, don’t disappoint and we might just keep you around.” She bumped her hip against yours with a coy smile, you did your best to ignore the funny flips your stomach did at the suggestion of them liking you so much they return for your work again and again and again.

“Which wouldn't be that hard.” Maxwell smirked at you and waved a blase hand through the air while the other opened the door for his wife. “The standards aren’t set very high given the fact that your own sense of style has you dressing like a hippie liberal arts teacher.”

The door slowly closed behind them as they walked to their cars, but before it could shut completely you poked your head out to say. “Those are some mighty big words coming from the guy dressed like a car salesmen with a secret latex fetish.”

Even with the door shut you could hear his wife’s shrieking laughter.

Authors note: Slooooowwww burrrrrnnn babey.Now that they consultation is done we can move on to these assholes just bursting into your store to “see your progress” and then TENSION WHILE GETTING THEIR MEASUREMENTS. Also Maxwell lord is so starved of actual chemistry and love that the mere thought of a woman he may be actually attracted to he BUSTS that second lmao. Alastair will be included in the fic!! Wrote headcanons for him last night n i got all soft and emotional. But no joke writing this fic and doing headcanons for it is honestly so fun and relaxing for me so if you want to be tagges or talk hcs PLEASE send them my way I love this ot3 of power bisexuals.

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #Maxwell Lord x Valarie Lord x reader #maxwell lord x valerie lord x reader #valerie lord #valerie lord x reader #stitches #ww 1984 #ww1984 #pedro pascal x reader #x reader #imagine #Pedro Pascal #Maxwell Lord x You #Pedro Pascal x You #Pedro Character fic #WW84 #WW84 Fic

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ponydera · 3 years

Text

TW: Anxiety/Depression/Paranoia

You wake up like you do every day and lay in bed contemplating on whether or not to get up. You roll over to your side and pick up your phone; it’s nine am. You open up the phone menu and scroll through several social media apps before you realize you are getting hungry and finally pull yourself out of bed. You make your way to your kitchen, contemplating on what to have, before you grab an apple and start eating that. Eating an apple was your safest bet: if you had toast with eggs and bacon you’d have to worry about when the toast would pop, and the inevitable jump from that, and then there was the sizzling and crackling of the eggs and bacon in a pan that would keep you on edge. And heaven forbid you try to microwave something to eat and the whirring and incessant dinging that it was done irritate your nerves.

You finish off the apple pretty quickly and thought about just going back to bed but then you remembered how you promised your therapist that you would try to get some more fresh air. Plus, getting dressed every day is supposedly supposed to help with your mental health. Or so they say. So you get dressed and you go to put your shoes on, and your right shoe is bigger than it was the last time you put it on. Maybe it was just your imagination and you needed to tie it tighter, after all, what else would be the reason for the increase in size. You put the extra space in the shoe to the back of your mind and leave the house and like always, triple-check to make sure that the door was definitely locked behind you.

It’s a hot day outside and there’s no breeze making the walk to the nearby park even more unbearable than it usually would be. You can’t tell if the echo of your steps are really yours or someone else possibly walking nearby, the birds suddenly flee the trees and squirrels run off at your approach so maybe the crunching of leaves and twigs are from them, and the insects seem surprisingly quiet since they’d usually be buzzing around in the heat. Few cars pass on the road beside you and you can’t help but wonder if something is wrong because there’s so little people out and about on what would normally be considered a beautiful day. You hear a bell ring, startling you from your thoughts, and you look around to see a biker coming up behind you to pass. You take a few seconds to recover from the shock that you weren’t expecting and then continue on your way.

You eventually make it to the park where there’s a small convenience store and a mom-and-pop ice cream shop for campers and park goers can rest and get a few things they might have forgotten. The campground has a few RVs and the park has a couple of families there for a barbeque while their kids play on the playground. You decide it’s too hot to just turn around so you make your way into the convenience store for a drink. There’s only one worker up at the counter and it seems as if she has nothing better to do than stare at you while you pick out a drink. You don’t really know if she’s staring at you though because you can’t bring yourself to look but you can feel a stare at the back of your head. You grab a lemonade and quickly make your way to the counter. “Will this be all?” She asks and you just mumble a “yeah” not able to keep eye contact so you look to the cigarettes behind her and then the cash register display with your total. You awkwardly wait to swipe your card as the machine prompts you to donate to a local hospital. You still feel her eyes on you. As quickly as possible, you finish the transaction and leave, opening the bottle of lemonade and downing a third of it right away. After all, you only had an apple for breakfast, you didn’t even drink any water so you’re probably dehydrated.

And as if your mind read your stomach’s thoughts, it started to rumble. But the only place around was the ice cream shop or going back into the convenience store and there was no way you could bring yourself to face that stare again, so the ice cream shop it was. Luckily for you it was empty, that gave you time to think about what you wanted. It seemed like the shop workers were still busy opening up so they don’t pay you much mind as you peer through the glass at the selections. But then a bell rings and what seems like several families of campers comes into the shop. They must have been the ones at the barbeque or the ones in the RV, but it didn’t really matter because the small shop was suddenly crowded with people. People wanting to look at the display also, people wanting to know if you have ordered yet or if you’re still waiting to order, people waiting for you to be gone so they can get their ice cream. Suddenly losing all interest in having ice cream, but not wanting to get the side-eye for leaving without buying anything, you order two scoops of vanilla in a waffle cone. Again, you can’t make eye contact with the worker and just mumble your thanks as they hand you your ice cream and you swipe your card.

You escape into the heat of the day with your ice cream in one hand and a lemonade in the other. Not the best of combinations but it would have to work because there’s no way you could go back for something else. So, you head to the nearest park bench that’s farthest away from the kids still playing on the playground and you sit to eat your ice cream. The taste makes it the most enjoyable part of your day so far, giving you a little bit of comfort in an otherwise anxious day. You quickly make your way through the ice cream, you were much hungrier than you thought, and you get up to head home; the best part of this whole excursion.

You don’t bother to deviate from the path you came on, too many possible unknowns, plus this was the shortest distance back to the house. Suddenly, a dog and a walker turn the corner towards you. You keep walking but can’t stop staring and the dog looks like it’s trying to make its way to you. When the dog gets close enough, it jumps to try and get your attention. The walker says the dog’s name is Milo and that you’re free to pet him. So you give your thanks and then bend down to give Milo the full attention he deserves. You pet him for a few minutes and then start to wonder how long you’re allowed to pet him, surely you’re holding up his walker from wherever they were going and that makes you realize that the walker’s attention had been on you and your interaction with the dog this whole time. You start to panic since you aren’t sure if it’s polite to keep petting or when you should stop, so you stand up immediately, give your thanks once again, wave at Milo and speed walk away.

You don’t stop until you get to your house and shakily unlock your door; you’re not used to high-intensity walking on a really hot day so you are out of breath when you arrive at home. You get into the air-conditioned house and quickly shut the door and locked it behind you. As you catch your breath in the darkened living room, you down more of your lemonade that has started to get warm. You turn on a light and look around; for some reason it feels like everything in your living room has been shifted by at least one inch. You sit down to turn on a show you’ve seen five times to relax and it’s almost like the TV is closer than it usually is. You get up and make sure your entertainment system is pushed against the wall and you move you couch back a bit, but when you sit down this time, the TV seems too far away. Maybe you were just imagining it being too close. You kick of your regular sized left shoe and your larger-than-usual right shoe and curl up on the couch for the rest of the day, promising yourself that you don’t have to go out again until tomorrow.

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Hey guys, I'm trying out writing prompts and I'm trying to get my average word count up. Today's prompt was inspired by my anxiety, depression, and paranoia and I figured I'd put it all in one package. I hope you guys enjoy and any constructive criticism is welcome!

#writeblr #writing #writing prompt #anxitey #depression #paranoia #mental health

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mlqcconfessions · 4 years

Note

Hi! I wonder what happen if Lucien's sister dating Gavin. Are they can going date freely?

This is already the 4th installment in this series (surprised no one’s mentioned Kiro yet)

WOWOWOWOW you guys must really like them

somebody give poor Birdcop a break here

MLQC Headcanon - MC dating Gavin as Lucien’s sister

Lucien

You two were very close as siblings (even at an early age)

You only had each other, after all

Ever since your parents died in the crash, he’s been much more protective of you

But that doesn’t mean he’s forbidding boyfriends!

He figured it would be better to have someone else you can rely on (especially because he won’t be next to you always)

He wasn’t the type to follow you on dates

He knew you would be uncomfortable if he did that (I’m looking at you Victor)

But he did want to know what you would be doing that day (just so he doesn’t have to constantly worry)

Plus, you would occasionally update him throughout the date

He was curious when he found out that your boyfriend was your high school senior

“Gavin Bai?”

“Yeah! He’s a Loveland police officer!”

“Hmm. And an agent for STF, I see” (he’s looking at his phone)

“…..how did you know that?”

“I have my ways”

“Would you like to know anything else about him, little sister?”

——————–

He’s in his office waiting for you to come home from your date

He’s busy preparing for next week’s lecture

But he wants to greet you when you come home

So he finishes extra early (even the other professors are scared of him sometimes)

“Professor Xu, the rest of us (there’s 5 others in the room) are going for some drinks. Would you like to join us?”

He smiles politely before gathering his things to leave

“I apologize, but I’ll have to pass up on your offer. My little sister should be getting home anytime soon. She often forgets to carry her keys”

He nods slightly and exits the room

“He really cares for his sister, doesn’t he?”

“Tell me about it! Didn’t you see that photo frame on his desk? He absolutely adores her!”

“How old did you say she was?”

“22. A prime age for a boyfriend, don’t you think?”

“Would Professor Xu allow something like that?”

“Don’t be silly! He’s not old-fashioned like us”

“You’re right. He wouldn’t do such childish things”

——————–

He’s waiting and waiting (but you still haven’t come home)

He’s worried, especially since you haven’t called him

He’s about to call you himself, when he hears a clatter from upstairs

Of course, being the demon brother he is, he immediately locates where the sound is coming from

He walks up to the balcony when he sees you and Gavin together (he was amused at you on the floor, clutching your belly while laughing)

He’s about to open the door when you initiate a kiss on Gavin

The smile doesn’t leave Lucien’s face as he retracts his hand on the door handle

After a while, he decides he’s given you enough time and taps on the windows (he intentionally gathers some currents for the momentum)

“Lu-Lucien!”

“It’s quite late, you should be getting home now”

“Ah, yes….”

“Goodnight Gavin! I’ll see you tomorrow!” (he’s not even using much force, but you still can’t make him budge)

He thinks that you need to train your muscles more

You gently close the door, but can’t seem to look up

It’s not like he was trying to seem intimidating (he doesn’t realize how dangerous his silence is)

“Did you have fun today?” (he wants to break this tension)

“Ah! Yes! I did! Lots of fun!”

“Well, I’m glad you did” (and this was the truth)

But he wanted a little bit of revenge for making him so worried tonight

“I’m just curious, do you do that with Gavin often?”

He’s laughing as he’s being pushed out of your room (again, you’re not able to make him budge)

Gavin

He’s only met Lucien once (when he dropped you off at his office rather than at home)

Minor had warned him about the brothers of girlfriends

“You have to be careful, bro! Don’t chicken out in front of him! You’re gonna get yourself tested for your capabilities as a boyfriend, so just watch out for that. OH! Also! Don’t show too much affection while he’s nearby. You’re gonna get yourself killed. Oh yeah! I almost forgot!…..”

He goes on for nearly 20 minutes

Gavin’s just getting ready at this point

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say” (Minor reads too many shoujo mangas)

But he recalls the time where he actually saw your brother

He wasn’t threatened in any way whatsoever

He was actually quite amiable

He was even offered tea because it was drizzling outside (to which Gavin politely declined)

Just…..a little intimidating (a smile that wasn’t a smile, if you can picture it)

——————–

Today’s date is to the movies (simple and sweet)

It was actually unplanned, so he had you pick whatever

He was relieved it was a good movie (he was worried that you would feel bad, since you were the one who chose it)

Towards the end he starts sniffling unintentionally

He’s hoping that you can’t hear it (of course you can hear it everyone can hear it)

“…I’m not crying” (he’s whispering into the popcorn)

“Gavin…..I didn’t say anything”

“……”

“……..pfft. Gavin, you’re so adorable”

He’s getting so red right now, he looks purple under the blue light from the movie screen

“…..please stop”

——————–

He’s dropped you off at the front door, waiting while you fumble for your keys

He always insists on watching you walk through the door into your house (something about having to stay alert at all times)

“Huh, I swear I grabbed them this time”

“Forgot your keys?”

“…….yeah…..” (he thinks you look so cute flustered like this)

He grabs onto your waist, pulls you close, and takes off with the wind blowing below you two

“Woah, Gavin!”

“Hold on tight!”

He takes you to your balcony (Birdcop can’t think properly, apparently)

“…Gavin….”

“Yeah?”

“The balcony doors are locked, too”

“……..oh right” (he feels like such a dork right now)

He has to listen to you laughing your butt off for a few minutes before you finally calm down

He’s about to take off when he’s stopped by your surprise kiss

He always gets shy like it’s his first kiss or something

And then becomes an entire EXPERT afterwards

He notices you’ve begun to give in (just what he wanted)

He hears the lights knock over and was about to pick them up (but you re-focus him)

As he was about to start his ultimate move, he heard taps from behind

“Lu-Lucien!”

What.

Oh.

oh.

He’s screwed (and he knows it well)

The doors open with a powerful gust that almost knocks him back

Did….did he just….. (copy your evol, Birdcop? Yes. Yes, he did)

“It’s quite late, you should be getting home now”

“Ah, yes….”

“Goodnight Gavin! I’ll see you tomorrow!” (he’s looking at your small figure trying so hard to make that mountain of a brother move)

He hears the doors close and jumps down to where Sparky is parked

He had just experienced the most terrifying 5 minutes of his life

Those were the eyes of a killer (and the cross hairs were aimed at him)

But the last thing he remembers is the flurry of kisses he shared with you

He’s ready for round 2 tomorrow

You were never scared to tell Lucien that you were dating someone

The two of you have been close for as long as you can remember

There was always a sense of telepathy between you and him

He knew what you were thinking about, and sometimes you did too

Emphasis on the sometimes

So there wasn’t much secrecy in this household

You didn’t want to keep any secrets from him anyways

“Gavin Bai?” (this was one of those rare moments where his interests were actually piqued)

“Yeah! He’s a Loveland police officer!”

“Hmm. And an agent for STF, I see”

What.

“…..how did you know that?” (you’re narrowing your eyes at him)

You’re kinda baffled, here

You have an incredible brother (not that you just realized it today)

“I have my ways….would you like to know anything else about him, little sister?”

Correction.

You have an incredible DEVIL as a brother (not that you just realized it today)

You quickly leave the room to get dressed

……you didn’t want to know his ways

——————–

The movie date went really well

You weren’t expecting much, and neither was Gavin

You were kinda proud for picking such a good movie (randomly, at that!)

But he just starts crying? (it was the part where the dog died)

“…I’m not crying” (why is he whispering to the popcorn?)

“Gavin…..I didn’t say anything”

He buries his face in the popcorn container

“……..pfft” (you lean your head on his shoulder)

“Gavin, you’re so adorable”

“…..please stop”

——————–

You walk side-by-side with Gavin, until you reach the steps of the front door

“I had fun today, thank you”

“Me too” (he’s smiling at you so sweetly)

You’re looking for your keys in your bag, but you can’t find them

“Huh, I swear I grabbed them this time”

You can’t raise your head (this is so embarrassing….)

Suddenly you find yourself in the air with his body pressed close to you

“Woah, Gavin!”

“Hold on tight!” (you’re not complaining)

In no time, you’re at your balcony

“…Gavin….”

“Yeah?”

“The balcony doors are locked, too”

“……..oh right” (you can’t contain your laughter)

After you calm down, you give him a kiss (for being so cute)

He’s definitely startled, but soon responds with his own

You lose yourself in his affection, drowning under the starry night

You accidentally knock over some lights (but you’re too engrossed to care)

As things were becoming more heated, you hear light taps on the balcony windows

“Lu-Lucien!”

He’s smiling, but he’s not smiling

Lucien opens the doors, and a strong gust of wind nearly sends Gavin flying

“It’s quite late, you should be getting home now”

“Ah, yes….”

You sense the tension in the air, and quickly pull Lucien away from the balcony

“Goodnight Gavin! I’ll see you tomorrow!” (you’re basically using all your strength as you close the doors)

There’s silence in the room as Lucien’s just smiling at you

“Did you have fun today?”

“Ah! Yes! I did! Lots of fun!”

“Well, I’m glad you did”

You sigh of relief (I guess he’s not going to ask about what he just saw)

“I’m just curious, do you do that with Gavin often?”

He’s smiling, but HE’S NOT SMILING

This might have been the longest headcanon I’ve written so far

This series is always fun to write (but Kiro is missing out on the fun)

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weshallc · 3 years

Text

Did you know there’s five chapters to this! Who knew? Better crack on then. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 (found it)

BERNS NIGHT (Again for St. Andrew’s Day)

A Crown Jewels AU Call the Midwife fanfiction. (Paddy, Bernie, the pub, Poplar-on Tweaven, the rest of them)

CHAPTER TWO: THE BONNIE LAD THAT’S FAR AWA’.

“His Face With Smile Eternal Drest, Just Like The Landlord’s To His Guest’s, High As They Hang With Creaking Din, To Index Out The Country Inn.” Versicles On Sign-Posts by Robert Burns 1788.

“The Needle Returns To The Start Of The Song, And We All Sing Along As Before.” Nothing Ever Happens by Del Amitri 1989.

January 2020.

Fred Buckle clambered up from the cellar of the Crown Inn and perched his ample posterior on a bar stool, wiping his forehead with an old bar towel he used when helping Paddy exchange the old barrels for new. Violet tutted as she placed a sausage sandwich and a mug of tea on the bar in front of him.

“Sure you don’t want one, Paddy.”

“No, I am fine, Vi. Just a cuppa, cheers. I had breakfast with Bernie before she went on her rounds.”

“I will have another one, Violet”

“I am sure you won’t Reggie you scoffed that back like there was no tomorrow, doesn’t your uncle feed you.”

No one replied to this as everyone knew Violet fed them both, if not at the Crown, at either her home or Fred’s. To spare Violet’s blushes, Fred began.

“I have a little beauty brewing, be just right for Burns Night, Doc.”

“Burn’s Night?” questioned Vi.

“Yep, soon comes around after Christmas, Vi. Be Valentines before we know it.” He winked and Vi wiped a cloth under Paddy’s mug and straightened the bar towel.

“Fred, I don’t think so, not this year anyway.” Paddy added, trying not to look at Val, who was checking the mixer fridge with visibly shaking shoulders.

“But we always do a Burns Night, it’s tradition,” protested Fred.

“No, we haven’t done one for the last couple of years, Fred. Not since Wilf took poorly.” Vi had regained her composure.

“Well, it’s about time we did again.” Fred was like a dog with a bone, or in this case a sausage.

Val, also more composed now, looked at Vi, who was in turn looking at Paddy. Tim, who had been trying to clean all the chalk marks off the dart scoreboard under Evie’s instruction, looked at his mentor and they both moved closer to the bar.

“Look, I know, Bernie. She won’t be upset because her dad’s not here to do the twiddly bits. She wouldn’t still be in Poplar if she was worried about being reminded of her dad.”

“Always wondered why she was still in Poplar,” Tim smirked and Evie frowned at him, deciding it was time to enlighten everyone.

“The reason we haven’t had a Burns Night since Reverend Wilf died is because we have no one to address the Haggis.”

“Well, Mr T could do it,” Reggie chirped in as Paddy went pale.

“Yeah, you’ll like that boss,” Val added, “any excuse to slope off and leave me on my tod behind the bar. I presume Lorraine Bernadette Kelly won’t be working either.”

Evie and Vi sighed in unison.

“What,” said Val.

Paddy turned to her, but before he could speak, Val interrupted,

“Don’t tell me you are scared of haggis as well as alpacas.”

Tim, Reggie and a lurking Jack found this highly amusing, but Evie had had enough.

“No, it’s not that, it really should be a Scot that addresses the haggis otherwise it’s just not going to sound right, a bit like well like when Captain Kirk sang Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.”

“Isn’t that your ringtone, Tim?” Jack smirked. Tim ignored him as per se.

“Weezer doing Africa,” Val was beginning to understand.

“Miley Cyrus doing Nirvana,” Tim added, still ignoring Jack.

“But, Bernie is Scottish!” added Reggie optimistically

“Yes, but it’s traditionally a man,” Vi said nervously.

“Oh, well, heaven forbid we bring Poplar into the 21st century,” Val cried. “How do you know all this anyway, you two?”

“We have been doing this for years. Wilf was a member of the Burns Society. Val, you were there at the last one we had, must have been?” Violet explained.

“Oh, I was there alright, working behind the bar. Sorry, if I didn’t have time to memorize ancient Scottish protocol while fighting off the thirsty English hoards.”

“Can we all just calm down,” Paddy sounded exasperated, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock. “Look, I appreciate while Wilf was alive and in Evie’s time we celebrated Burns Night.” He continued a little firmer, “Me and Mazz tried to keep it going as long as Wilf was around, but he is gone. Let's be honest, Wilf arranged everything, even the piper was his mate from Kelso. Do you have his number, Evie? I know I don't.” The ex-landlady shook her head. “Come on, let's admit it we are just pissing in the wind.”

“Dad.”

“But it’s for Bernie, you do know it’s also her birthday,” Val said sulkily.

“Yes, I do know, and if I know Bernie. She would rather just go to the pictures and a Parmo then all this fuss.”

“Would she really?” grumbled Val.

“Dad.”

“I do know how to prepare a good Burns supper, never had any complaints in all the years.” Vi sounded defeated.

“I brewed some ale specially.” Fred’s tone was flat in a way his beer never was.

“Dad.”

“Paddy is right. Burns Night was Wilf’s night gave him a chance to show off without having to stand behind a pulpit,” Evie reminisced. “For one night only, he could be Wilf Mannion in a kilt and not Poplar’s vicar in a dog collar. If we can’t do it properly, we shouldn’t do it at all.” Evie nodded toward Paddy.

Thank you, he mouthed in return.

“Dad.”

“Does anyone else think we are overthinking this.” Val never took no for an answer,

“Yes,” Reggie cried.

“Basically, all we need is someone who is Scottish, I mean if I have to hike up to the Borders myself and toss one over my shoulder and bring em back, I will.” Val quipped,

“Dad.”

“Not now, Tim.”

“But Dad.”

“Not now, Tim.”

“Do they have to be 100% Scottish?” Tim asked, facing Vi and Evie, who seemed to be the authority on this. They looked at each other, but Val stepped in.

“I don’t know Tim, I will just look at the rule book. Oh, look at that there isn’t one”

“I think we would settle for a left bollock’s worth right now,” muttered a despondent Fred.

“Fred, there is no need to be vulgar! Reggie, don’t listen to him,” Vi reprimanded.

“I could do it then,” said Tim.

“You have a Scottish bollock, Turner. Does Lucy know?”

“Jack Smith!” Scalded Violet as Reggie chuckled.

“No, Smithy, but my Gran was Scottish.”

Tim blushed from the neck up, as is the way of teenage boys when the whole room is looking at them.

“Your gran, so Marianne’s mother,” Evie enquired.

“No, Dad’s mam.”

All eyes moved towards Paddy, who seemed to lose as much colour as Tim had gained.

“OK, so I don't think we are going to get any further today. We open in 5 everyone back to work.” Not one of his staff moved in obedience until Paddy started to roll up his sleeves and they knew he meant business.

#call the midwife #berns night revisited #chapter two #3 to go #it's going to be a long night #remembered second song #last chapter was simple minds #just so you know

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thedoctor1002 · 4 years

Text

Idk, I never posted one of my fics here but guess I'll try ~

Also, English is not my first language so feel free to correct me QwQ

Fandom: Psycho-Pass -season 1- (is this still a thing?)

Characters: Kogami Shinya, Sasayama Mitsuru, OC

Prompt (it was in Italian, so I'll translate): write a story using three among these words: cloud, dusk, thunderstorm, storm, hull, bay, shelter, sail, night

Title: Log date: 2110/02/28 (Friday) 22:04

---

The lights of the bay flicker dynamically before your eyes.

They dance hypnotically, of the same cyan colour of your office’s walls, but with a whole different beat. They drink the red and white trails from the traffic, they shatter and multiply in the tears of an inclement rain. I know how much you hate it, you just can’t stand going on recon with an umbrella. On the other hand, I love it.

Rain brings us close together under the waterproof cloth and I manage to observe details that neon lights often hide from me: the precise way you part your hair, the last few drops of the jasmine perfume on your jacket, your long lashes. Shion thinks they’re fake. We always fight over it, can you believe me?

After all, you’ve never been the kind of woman to wear such frills.

A notification arrives, the acid light of your impalpable PC breaks through the sacred dark from where you pretend you don’t see me. It digs your silhouette and paints you like a ghost on the huge windows of the Public Safety Bureau.

Your jet-black hair lay on your back like varnish pouring over the white silk of your blouse.

“Pulling an all-nighter, Inspector Matou?” I ask casually, exposed. With you, after all, I always am: you’re the only one that can shush my shitty jokes.

But this time you laugh slightly: nothing more than a spike, a trembling breath that shakes your ribs and lips.

“The forecasts say that the storm won’t stop until tomorrow morning,” you tell me, sitting at your desk, “also, I’ve been delaying this paperwork through all week, it's about time I get it done. Might as well do some overtime and get rid of it, don’t you think?”

“You’re such a workaholic.” I label you, realizing how lucky I am being allowed to do it: Ginoza, that prude, would have never let it slide “You should leave some for the rest of the precinct: make 'em earn their wages.”

A tired smile crosses your face as you tap your fingers on the keyboard. It’s so clear you’re trying to avoid my glance.

You used to look for it.

You looked for my eyes at briefings, in that discrete way that eventually shocked everyone. You looked for them among alleys, as soon as you heard a gunshot or the chocked sound of a fight.

And when you found me, it felt like a 7 miles free fall.

“How are the legs going?” I dare to ask. I see the hollow structure of your new shins below the hem of your pencil skirt. They swing a bit underneath the glass of your desk. You didn’t lose your damn tic, your right heel shakes like the needle of a sewing machine even when you seem calm.

You shrug and drink the bottom of an already empty glass of water.

I shouldn’t have asked. It breaks my heart, to see you like this.

You don’t give me an answer and massage the back of your knee with a sigh. Lately, I feel like you’re avoiding me.

You’re turning back into the one you were before: uncompromising, cold and distant. I wonder if the bunch of ingrates downstairs have been calling you Dobermann again. I wonder if you’re still as relentless.

You worry me: your stress level is getting darker and darker. You don’t want old Kasei to take issues with you, not again.

I can imagine how you must have felt, the night when this mess happened.

You most likely got pissed, if I do know you.

I mean, did they really think I got away on my own? I bet you never doubted me: no one knows an Enforcer better than its Inspector.

“Runaway?! Have you lost your minds?” Sasayama?!”

Those were the first words you said when they rescued you. You spoke them way before cleansing your lungs from the rotten water of the river, way before asking Masaoka if you’d have ever got back to feeling your lower legs. They hurt like hell and you had to pull them around like sandbags.

“They got him” you panted, holding tight on your mentor’s coat “They took him away, I tell you!” The one that kidnapped him wasn’t a latent criminal. The Dominator didn’t activate, not even when they shot me. Please, believe me. Check on the log files, please.”

Crime coefficient: 0.

I know that bug still haunts you.

Cause, after all, it’s can’t be anything else: who on earth is that Makishima to fly under the Sibyl Sistem’s radar? Who can fool a network that knows your crimes before you do? And how is it possible that the silhouette that kneecapped you and threw you into a river could possibly be innocent?

You haven’t lost your mind, Inspector: the Dominator betrayed me, too.

Don’t think I don’t know how pitiful must have been, the next three days.

Makishima isn’t real. Forget it, it was just a delirium. You were in shock.

It was the trauma, dear. It was a breakdown. It was burnout syndrome.

You’d use some holiday, darling. Take a week. Take two. Go somewhere far, no, better: just stay at home. Go to therapy. Keep yourself busy, don’t think about it. Work. Also, don’t work: it wears you out!

They put you back on your feet in less than six hours, but nobody allowed you to join search parties. Heaven forbid your stress level getting any darker. Heaven forbid that yet another good Inspector gets demoted among those damn Enforcers. But, still, in the whole IT section, there wasn’t a single nerd that could get that night's logs. That's one funny thing, ain't it?

Woman, sometimes I wish your damn head wasn't that hard. I wish you didn't follow the Forensics to get a lift, so soon after the deed.

At least, you could have listened to Kogami. Shit, didn't you see how pale he was? You didn't even need the Dominator to read him, his stress level was mindblowing!

You should have believed him when he told you you didn't want to enter that alley. First off, it was already full of other detectives and analysts. I have no idea what kind of business you had to do in there. Second thing second, Kogami has an eye for certain matters. Do you think he didn't notice I’ve always been all over you? Not gonna lie, maybe I told him about you, once or twice.

But no, of course, you had to get in.

The software that taught you how to walk on those carbon stilts made you stand your ground and bark a "For fuck's sake, Shinya, move!" worthy of the Dobermann’s reputation. Even those who hadn't been called out made way.

But your new legs didn't hold you, when you saw what they had made of my corpse.

I'm sorry, Katsumi, I never wanted to upset you like that.

You know how much I would have rather have a more heroic death. I don't know, like, in the middle of a shooting, saving the day. It would have been much classier, less tacky, less trash. I think I deserved it, that's all.

You stop typing and rub your temples. You shelter what’s left of your lipstick behind your hand. I wish I could kiss it off, instead of watching you consume it in a ruby red halo in the notch between your thumb and your index.

You lift your eyes only for Kogami, who’s passing by your office like a nurse in its night shift.

“So?” he asks in a whisper, putting more care in that question than I could have ever done. More than anybody could have ever done, because he’s the only one that gets you, right now. You two seem like the only ones who lost something.

You shake your head slowly, staring at the monitor and the dangerously high Crime Coefficient on the display.

“It's not working” you wail softly, misty-eyed. I can’t believe it, is it still you?

“They’re gonna kick me out anyway, if it doesn’t lower quickly” you continue, with that realism of yours. I used to call you a jinx for that but, at the end of the day, you always got our backs. “It’s for the best if I just resign. I’m gonna keep what's left of my dignity, at least.”

The dark profile of my best friend looks through me, as he sits on the armchair next to mine. He would like to say something, a word of encouragement maybe, we all know it in this damn room, but numbers shut our mouths.

“You could become an Enforcer” he proposes.

Goddammit, Shinya, did we work with the same person? Katsumi as an Enforcer?

And there you go, shaking your head. You hold your face in your hands and let your raven hair hide your visage.

“Can you imagine me, following orders? I do know how to work, I can do it better than three-quarters of our colleagues and I’ve never had problems remarking it. They’d eat me alive if they had the chance. Dogs celebrate on the corpses of lions.”

“But lions remain lions and dogs stay dogs.” Kogami finishes, stealing my lines.

I notice the slight trembling of your finger, as you tap your touchpad to send that last confirm.

In a few moments, the system will have your resignation registered. Your profile won’t unlock your Dominator anymore and in a few days time, just enough for you to collect your belongings, you won’t even manage to enter the office.

Who’s gonna explain to old Kasei that there's more of your stuff here than in your apartment?

I’d ask you what do you plan on doing with your life, but tonight’s decision seems definitely brave enough to call it a day.

I look at the tabs you open in your browser, they mirror in the windows behind you.

Air travel.

Argentina, Cuba, States, New Zealand, Germany, Kenya. You go around the world in 80 seconds flat, you multiply your chances and spread them all through the air in front of you, in a complex diagram that doesn’t lead anywhere.

I never wanted to take you away from your home, you don’t deserve this.

You cover your eyes with a hand and use the other one to pick a random selection from your atlas.

Greece.

“Well, at least it’s on the sea.” you wrap up, condensing in a handful of words the only satisfaction you can find in starting a brand new life.

You two stare at the transparent screenshot of your flight, the countdown on the web page seems way too joyful.

“It’s so exciting, Katsumi Matou! Check-in your luggage. Your journey will begin in: 06 days: 17 hours: 34 minutes: 21 seconds”

20.

19.

18.

Seconds pass by, in complete silence.

“Do you think it would be a burden to him?” you ask Shinya, “Do you think he’d understand?”

Who would have guessed that a cynic one like yourself could believe in the afterlife? I wish I were here to ask you. I wish we could have spoken about life, death, sex, about things long gone and things yet to be.

His hand squeezes yours gently, as he looks at you in the eye, hoping to stop the train to Paranoidland from setting off.

“It’s not your fault” he reassures you as he can: the both of you wouldn’t make the average person’s empathy.

But he’s right, though, it really isn’t: I know you’ve done anything you could. It’s always been like that.

“Maybe I owe him” you draft “Even if they don’t believe in Makishima, maybe one day I could have proved he exists.”

The teal of your Psycho-Pass would suit you wonderfully, if it wasn’t a description of your mental health.

What could you possibly do in these conditions? You’d have ended up in a cubicle, filing loss and theft reports. You would have never made it to the dossiers, surely not to those of such a controversial case. Making you end up in a study room would have been my final bullshit. I’m happy with your choice, really. I would have loved visiting Europe someday.

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Kogami rebukes you, externalizing what I’ve been thinking all along: “I’m going to look out for your man: your team has already given way too much. I’m gonna find him, Matou, cold case or not.”

You nod, but it’s clear you don’t believe him. I can read through you, you’re a terrible liar.

I don’t think you don’t trust him, most likely you’ve done the math and figured that working on an independent case is far too difficult for an Inspector, let alone for an Enforcer.

And there it is, my fall. After an exhausting chase, you finally look into my eyes, even though -according to Shinya- you’re most likely staring at the void.

Despite being used to such races, believe me, I’ve missed you.

“I’m just so sorry.” you finally whisper, giving me a bitter smile.

Try and stop me, Ginoza, tell me once again how inappropriate it is: I don’t mind anymore. I get up and I don’t hesitate while holding you and leaving a kiss on your hair, shamelessly.

“I’m going to grab some coffee” I announce, walking backwards to the door like a shrimp, just to look at my dearest friends a bit longer. “I’d get you one, but I’m short on coins. Maybe next time.”

“See you, Inspector.”, Kogami greets you, leaving alongside me.

“Be good.” you wave back, as we were all to meet again tomorrow.

Walking through the dark alley, I can hear an excerpt from our last conversation through the opaque glass of your office.

“You’re jerk, Sasayama!”

I can hear you laughing out loud, through the crackly recording. You laughed at my gall, with that warm, strong, sweet voice of yours, mocking me. Admit it: mine, after all, were the only compliments that could make you blush.

It’s incredible how we managed to joke even inside a car that was taking us on a crime scene. To an external eye, we might have looked disrespectful. Truth is I’ve always feared death so much I just had to laugh at the reaper.

“Oh, come on, what would it take? Come with me to the Precinct’s New Year’s dinner, the 17th is around the corner!” I kept annoying you, as you were too busy driving to mind my dumb flirt attempts. I still can’t get how we never had an accident. “Be good, Katsumi, give me a joy to live for!”

“You could always ask Shion, you know? You always give her more attention, after all.”

I hear the subtle sound of the wheels stopping, the parking brake cracking and it’s like Ogishima’s outskirts appear before my eyes, in that same January night. That place gave me goosebumps, but I would have hated if you understood it.

“Here we are” you announced, with still a bit of resentment in your voice. You unlocked the passenger’s door and I remember I left your Dominator in the car’s trunk: I didn’t want you to follow me. Not that time.

“You scare me when you pay so much attention” you commented, noticing how serious I got “will you tell me why are you insisting so much to keep on searching? Kogami got the guy. Tomorrow we go, we arrest him and it's thank you, next.”

My answer has been recorded as a distant and muffled noise, but I still can trace it: “He’s not the one, I tell you. I have another suspect, but I need a more solid base. And you’re staying, Inspector.”

“Staying?! You’ve gone crazy!” you laughed, locking the corporate sedan behind you “If something were to happen to you, or worse if you didn’t come back, Kasei would…”

“I said you’re staying: it’s dangerous.”

“Sasayama, our work is dangerous,” you replied, contemptuous, understanding that clearly among the gear I brought I didn’t count yours and going back to the car to get it “One more risk won’t make a difference: if I have to drop dead, it can either be here, at home or god knows where.”

“Will you join me for the precinct’s dinner, though?”

And here is a sequence that the voice recorder surely can’t have grasped, but that I could remember even in a thousand years. You cast an outraged glance over me from above the trunk’s door, panting through a half-smile. You shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. And finally, after refusing my invitations since 17th November, during lunch break, you smiled shrugging.

“Deal, come on, just make way” you sighed, as your heels echoed on the wet concrete “Still, you’re a jerk.”

“I recorded it: you have no excu-”

The audio file interrupts.

End of recording.

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backtothestart02 · 4 years

Text

If Only She Knew - 3/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: Another commission, this one by Jehna for Bella (who I think is @theparadoxofwriting??). I hope you enjoy!

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 3 -

Barry was in hell.

Unable to look away from Iris’ cute butt as she walked in front of him, he was just glad Joe wasn’t along for the walk to the lake which Iris had insisted her best friend take with her.

It was tradition, after all, that they go check out the campgrounds as soon as the tents were set up. Joe was dozing in a hammock, as he tended to do once they had a chance to relax. His only request was that they come back by sunset so they could all have dinner together. Other than that, they were on their own.

Barry groaned inwardly.

It wasn’t just Iris in those short, short jean shorts that nearly had the bottom of her butt cheeks peeking out that threw Barry for a loop. It was the dark hair that lay just past her shoulders, and the smile that always took his breath away every time she turned back to look at him. And those eyes – God. He’d do anything she asked of him when she looked at him with those eyes.

Which was pretty much how she’d gotten him to go on the short walk to the lake to begin with.

“Oh, Barry,” she said, coming to a halt and staring, breathless, straight ahead.

Barry forced himself to look away from her and straight ahead where she was gazing, awestruck. She clasped her hands together and giggled a little.

“Well, come on!”

She grabbed his hand and sprinted towards the beach. It was the smaller one, so there were only a couple people and they were on the other end.

“We have to come here at sunrise, Bear.”

He groaned inwardly. “Iris, you know I’m not a morning person.”

She shrugged, unthwarted. “Neither am I. You know that. But…sunrise.” She gestured to the lake and wiggled her fingers, smiling like the silly, unbelievably attractive teenager she was.

“Okay,” he said, with a lazy grin. “You win.”

“Yes!” She pumped her fist, then dragged him along again. She kicked off her shoes, then encouraged him to do the same. “Let’s walk around the lake. We can walk in the water where the sand disappears.”

Reluctantly, he went with her, then nearly jumped out of his skin the first time he had to dip his toe in the water.

“It’s freezing!”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Baby.” And jogged ahead in the water till she was knee-deep and on to the next beach.

The bottom of Barry’s board shorts got wet in the process of following the girl of his dreams, but he held his breath, counted to ten, and forced himself to go after her. Despite his longer legs, Iris easily beat him to the next beach. She stood there laughing at him and covering her mouth as she did so. Barry glanced down at her legs, soaked and dripping from the knees down, and found even that to be a turn on.

“Tomorrow we’ll go swimming,” she said, looping her arm through his when he’d joined her. “And you’ll have to go fishing with my dad or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

Her hip lightly brushed his as they walked, and he knew this trip would be the death of him. He knew it like he knew equations and science and the origin of species and diseases which Iris would wrinkle her nose at. He knew it like he knew his own name.

And sleeping in the same tent with her? Good God, he would not survive this.

“The lake is pretty,” he allowed, forcing himself to pay attention to the nature around them and not to what her close proximity was doing to him.

“Mhmm. Told you.”

“I suppose waking up at the crack of dawn to see the sun rise over the water wouldn’t be the worst thing.” There was a grin in his voice, and Iris’ eyes sparkled when she turned to see it.

“It’ll be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, Barry. Trust me on this.”

Second most beautiful, he nearly said out loud but then stopped himself.

He could not reveal his feelings for her. He could not. It might ruin their whole friendship, and with them living in the same house, there was no way he could allow that. He couldn’t lose her, no matter the cost. And besides, she’d never consider him for a boyfriend. She was so far out of his league that he didn’t stand a chance.

But man, the things she did to him.

“We should find sticks,” he said, to get out of his own head.

Her brows furrowed. “Sticks? What for?”

“Marshmallows!”

“Oh! For s’mores!” she declared excitedly, and he nodded. She grabbed his hand and turned them around. “Come on, we have to go back to get our shoes. Then I know exactly where to go.”

He had a pretty good feeling where she was thinking, especially since they went to this same campground every year. But he let her pretend it was a surprise to him.

Before he could chuckle at the irony of the situation, he realized that in order to get their shoes, they would have to go back into the cold water.

“Iris, maybe we could just… I mean…”

She spun around from the distance she’d gained on him, already ankle-deep in the water.

“What?”

He gestured to the road at the top of the hill. She rolled her eyes.

“What are you going to do tomorrow when we go swimming?” she deadpanned. “Which, by the way, isn’t optional.”

He sighed, giving up the fight, and walked to where she was. She smiled brilliantly.

“You don’t want to walk on a gravel road anyway,” she said, pulling him along. “You’d get cuts on your feet.”

Barry decided not to mention the fact that the part of the road they were close to had been smoothed over with asphalt. She was too happy and carefree that he was coming with her, he couldn’t bear to disappoint her.

“Am I right or am I right?” she asked as she trudged through the knee-deep water again.

His eyes landed on her jean-covered butt again, and the temperature of the water soon left his mind.

“You’re right, of course,” he said, tugging his long t-shirt down to cover the start of his second boner that day.

“Of course I am,” she beamed, and he just thanked his lucky stars she didn’t turn around again until they reached the first beach.

She would absolutely, 100%, be the death of him.

…

The sun had started to set by the time Barry and Iris came back from exploring the campground.

“Where have you two been?” Joe asked, grilling some hot dogs and burgers over the campfire pit.

“Just off exploring,” Iris said.

“Oh, yeah? What are all those sticks for?” Joe asked, catching sight of the numerous ones in both Barry and Iris’ hands.

“Marshmallows, what else?” Iris asked, and Joe and Barry shared a quick look, nodding knowingly.

“Of course,” Joe said complacently and turned his cheek towards Iris so she could press a quick kiss to it.

“Dinner looks great, Joe,” Barry said, practically salivating.

Joe looked amused. “There are some chips and soda in the back of the truck if you guys want to grab them.”

“Oh, come on, Barry! Let’s go!” she said, excited as she’d never seen her to get chips and soda.

“What has gotten into you?” he asked her when they found the stash exactly where they’d been directed to. He couldn’t help smiling at how bubbly she was, but he still wondered why.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, sounding just a little bit nervous.

Barry shrugged. “You’re just so…excited.”

“I’ve always loved going on our family camping trip.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“What?”

“This year you seem extra excited.”

She shrugged. “I guess I have good reason to be.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?” He couldn’t help leaning in.

She tuned to look up at him. For a moment she could hardly breathe. He was so close. Then she shook herself out of it, wondering what had gotten into her.

“I…” she cleared her throat. “Am going to hike to the top of Devil’s Canyon,” she said.

Barry’s eyes widened. “You are?”

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’. “And you are coming with me.”

He paled just before she snatched up the chips and soda and headed around the vehicle.

“I- What?!”

“You’re not telling my dad either.”

“Iris.”

She started to hum to herself as she neared where her father sat cooking their meal.

“Iris!”

He ran after her, determined to dissuade her, but she was already sitting and munching on a hot dog by the time he reached her.

“Son, you look out of breath. Why don’t you sit down? Have a hot dog,” Joe said, looking at Barry somewhat concerned.

“I… Oh, all right.”

He took his seat on the other side of Joe, ignoring Iris’ brief frown before her expression morphed into pure bliss.

“It’s going to be a beautiful sunset,” Joe remarked when he’d finished his dinner and was starting to put things away. “You two should go down to see it.”

Barry interrupted Iris before she could agree with her dad.

“I think we should all go!”

Iris looked at him curiously. Joe mirrored her gaze.

“You’ve been napping and setting things up all afternoon, Joe. You should come enjoy the nature part too.”

“I guess you’re right, Barry. I think I will. Then when we get back, we can make smores.”

Barry grinned. “Sounds great.”

But Iris was strangely silent, and Barry knew with every fiber of his being what she was thinking.

That he was up to something.

She wasn’t going to accuse him of that in front of her dad, though.

Instead, she helped clean up, and a little while later she caught Barry’s glance as they were walking down to the lake with Joe at the lead. She saw him grin and immediately frowned. He sidled up next to her and lowered his voice to a whisper.

“What’s the matter, Iris?” he teased, hoping to get a rise out of her after she’d burdened him with the secret plan that Joe would no doubt hate if he knew. And forbid. “Don’t sunsets get the same appreciation as sunrises?” He winked.

She huffed and walked away from him, swaying her hips as she did so, almost as if she knew it would get to him.

And that, Barry realized, horrified him the most.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #if only she knew #chapter 3 #fic commission #by jehna #for bella

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winchesterbrotherstan · 4 years

Text

Supernatural- The Benders (1.15)

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: Before the siblings can even dig into their new case, Sam goes missing. Dean and Olive set out to find him. While Dean puts himself at risk, Olive loses control more than once to save her brothers.

Warnings: cursing, guns, blood, crazy people, etc

Word Count: 5779

“I know you’re just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already.” Mrs. McKay sighed. “I don’t see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it’s true.”

“Mrs. McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities.” Sam nodded, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so…” Dean trailed off.

I turned to the young boy with a soft smile. “Okay, Evan. Now don’t worry about how crazy it sounds. You just tell us what you saw.”

“I was up late watching TV.” He shook his head. “When I heard this noise.”

“What did it sound like?” Sam asked, leaning in.

“It sounded like… like a monster.” He gave puppy eyes, and I glanced at Sam and Dean.

Dean looked back, eyebrows furrowed and a serious look on his face.

“Tell the officers what you were watching on TV.” Mrs. McKay shot her son a look.

Evan sighed. “Godzilla vs Mothra.”

Dean broke into a huge grin, and I felt my heart glow. Dean was great with kids, and it made me so happy to see him revert back to his real, child-like self around them.

“That’s my favorite Godzilla movie. It’s so much better than the original, huh?”

“Totally!” Evan grinned.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded toward Sam. “He likes the remake.”

“Yuck!”

Dean laughed as Sam glared at us and Evan giggled.

Sam shook his head. “Evan, did you see what this thing was?”

“No.” Evan shook his head. “But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins! I pulled him underneath the car.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“It took him away! I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound.” He looked worried.

Sam and I looked at each other, and Dean sighed.

“What did it sound like, Evan?”

“Like this… whining growl…” He shook his head. “I can’t make it.”

I shook my head, patting his shoulder. “It’s okay, Evan.”

“Thanks for your time.” Sam smiled as we stood.

***

“So, local police have now ruled out foul play. Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle.” Sam snorted before taking a sip of his beer.

A fake ID that Dean perfected at a CopyJack after six or seven tries, hair tied up, glasses, heeled boots, and makeup, and I was in at a bar. No drinking though, because god forbid a Winchester do something self-destructive. Sam had, thankfully, ordered me a girly drink that had no alcohol. I was more interested in watching Dean play darts. Jinx was at the motel room, where we had paid the manager extra to let her out every few hours. This case was going to take all of us and all of our attention. We were beginning to think getting a dog wasn’t the best idea.

“Well, they could be right.” Dean shrugged before throwing another dart. “It could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” I sighed, flipping through Dad’s journal. “Except, Dad marked the area.” I lifted the journal and shook it.

Dean came over, taking the journal from me. “Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker.” He tilted his head. “Why would he even do that?”

“Well, he found lots of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night.” I pointed to the journal, taking a sip from my glorified orange juice. “Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too. This county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the entire state.”

“That is weird.” Dean scrunched his nose up as he sat next to me.

“Yeah, it is.” Sam nodded.

“Don’t phantom attackers usually, like…” Dean shrugged. “I dunno, snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was snatched from a driveway.”

“Well, there are all kinds.” Sam shrugged.

“Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. Take people anytime, anywhere.”

“Look Dean, I dunno if this is our kind of gig either.” Sam shrugged again.

I sighed. “You guys might be right. Kid was cute, but he might’ve just watched too much TV.”

“Alright. We should ask around some more tomorrow.”

“Right.” Sam fished out his wallet. “I saw a motel about five miles back.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy. Let’s have another round.” Dean grinned.

I winced. “Uh. Sammy’s right. We should get an early start.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You, you two really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandmas?”

I chuckled as Sam shook his head with a smile. I grabbed my jacket and pulled it on. “Let’s roll out.”

“Roll out?” Dean laughed. “Alright, I’ll meet you outside, I gotta take a leak.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. I packed Dad’s journal up as Sam shut his laptop.

“Alright, come on, bug.” Sam slung an arm around me with a kiss to the top of my head.

We walked out through the people and into the cold. I shivered, pulling my coat further around me. There was a noise, and I looked around, tucking Dad’s journal under my arm. Sam pulled out a flashlight, and I took it as I bent down to look under the car.

There was a black cat, and it hissed at me. I giggled as I popped to my feet, handing the flashlight out to Sam.

“Sam?” I asked as I turned around.

He wasn’t there.

“Sammy?”

“Sam?” I tossed the journal onto Baby’s hood.

“Sam! Sammy! Sams!” I spun around, frantic. “Sammy! Sams!”

“Ollie?”

I spun around in a circle. Dean was coming toward the car, confused.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s gone.” I shrugged. “I dunno where he went. I looked under the car a-a-and it was a fucking cat, and I got up, a-a-a-and he’s just, just fucking gone!” I looked around, trying to find Sam.

“Olive, what?” Dean grabbed me by the shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s gone, Dean! What about that are you not fucking understanding?”

“Hey!” Dean shouted, catching my attention.

I let out a breath as I looked up at Dean, feeling my nose burn. “I lost him.”

“No, no no no no. Hey, no.” Dean grabbed me by the face as tears began to brew in my eyes and a terrible feeling bubbled in my stomach.

“It’s gonna be okay. We’ll find him. Promise.” He tucked my hair behind my ear.

Two people came around the corner, clearly drunk. I wiggled out of Dean’s grip and ran toward them.

“Hey! You guys been outside, maybe an hour or so?” I asked, feeling panic rise.

They only shook their heads, and Dean came after me, confused.

“Sam!”

“Sammy! Sams!” I screamed, running into the street.

Empty. Nothing, nobody. Dean ran into me, grabbing me by the shoulders and looking around.

“Sam.”

I sighed. “No. No…” I shuddered, realizing what had happened. “It took him. Evan was right. Something’s out here, De.” I began to pant. “It took him.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows with a sigh. “What?”

“It fucking took him, Dean! Whatever took Jenkins took Sammy. It took our Sam. We-we-we…” I struggled to breathe, feeling lightheaded.

My vision got spotty, and I felt weak, so weak.

“Sammy’s gone.” I whimpered. “We have to find him. We have to find him!”

I blinked, hard. Jinx would lose her mind if we came home without Sam. Dean grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Okay. Okay. So we work this like any other job.” Dean nodded, and my eyes widened so far they began to burn.

“Any … other… job?” I asked.

“Yes.” He nodded, sniffing and keeping himself composed.

I shook my head. “No. No.” I slid from his grip and fell to the floor, crying.

“Sammy!” I screamed, throwing my head back.

There was spit flying out of my mouth, and my head was throbbing, the ground under my knees was cold and wet and soaking through my jeans, and I was horrified.

“Olive. Olive. Hey! Listen to me.” Dean dropped to his knees and grabbed me by the face, forcing me to face him. “Sweetheart. Beanie. My girl, my beautiful, beautiful girl.” He pulled me into his front. “We will find him. I swear to you we will find him.”

I sighed into his chest, fists balling in his shirt. “You swear?” I looked up.

He nodded. “I swear.”

I sniffled. Dean wouldn’t lie. Not about that. Dean was our savior, and if he promised we would find Sam, then we would find Sam. I wrapped my arms around him and let out a breath.

“We’ll find him.”

***

“So, what can we do for you, Officer Washington?” The deputy behind the desk asked.

“I’m working a missing persons.” Dean spoke from a place deep in his chest.

He was worried, but he would be damned if he let that show.

“I didn’t know the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police.” She looked over me with a sympathetic gaze.

“Oh, no. No, there’s someone else.”

“Uh, he’s actually my brother. Him and my cousin here were hanging out a bar last night, down by the highway.” I blurted, hoping a play like this would work in our favor.

“Honey, how old are you?” She asked, leaning forward.

“I’m fifteen.”

She sighed. “And does your brother have a drinking problem, sweetie?”

“Sam?” Dean chuckled. “Two beers and he’s doing karaoke.” He joked. “No, no he wasn’t drunk. He was taken.”

She nodded. “Alright. What’s his name?”

“Winchester. Sam Winchester.” I cleared my throat.

“Like the rifle?” She chuckled, and Sam and I nodded.

“Like the rifle.”

She shook her head as she typed it into her computer, clicking something afterwards.

“Samuel William Winchester. You must be Olive Sam Winchester.” She smiled.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I looked a lot like him when I was born, so… Sam’s my middle name.” I huffed.

“So… Dean Winchester. The brother.” She looked up at me.

“Yeah.” I sniffed. “Died in St. Louis. Murder suspect. I know. So you understand that Sam is all I’ve got.”

Dean grabbed my shoulder and sighed. “Yeah, Dean. Black sheep of the family. Handsome though.”

“Uh-huh. Well, he’s not showing up in any current field reports.”

“Oh, actually, I already have a lead. I saw a surveillance camera by the highway.”

“Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?”

“Right, yeah. I’m thinking that the camera picked up whatever took him. Or, whoever.” Dean corrected himself.

“Well, I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county department, but… let’s do this the right way.” She stood and grabbed a clipboard, handing it back to me. “Olive, why don’t you fill out a missing persons report and sit tight, over there?” She pointed to a seat in the corner.

I looked up at Dean, distressed. I let out a wheeze, panic rising again. Dean tucked my hair behind my ear and nodded toward the bench, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“Officer, look, uh…” Dean looked over at me, then back at the deputy. “They’re family. I kinda look out for the kid. You’ve gotta let me come with you.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.” She shook her head.

Dean squared his shoulders. He was determined now. “Tell me something. Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of them come back?”

She looked away, saddened.

“Sam and Olive are my responsibility. Sam’s coming back. I’m bringing him back. For that kid over there.” He pointed to me. “Because Sam’s all she’s got, and I’ll be damned if I do a piss poor job of bringing her brother back to her.”

I looked up from the clipboard to Dean with a frown on my face. He looked at me and forced a smile.

We’ll find him. I promise.

***

“Greg, Olive.”

I got up, turning around to see Kathleen coming out of the police building with a folder in her hand. “I think we’ve got something.”

I held my hand out, and she let me take the folder. I tore through it and splayed the papers out. Dean and I looked over them.

“These traffic cameras take an image every three seconds, as part of the Amber Alert program. These images were all taken around the time that Sam disappeared.”

Dean sighed. “This isn’t really what we’re looking for.”

“Wait no, D-” I cut myself short and elbowed Dean to get his attention instead. “Look at this.” I pointed to a rusty truck. “Right after you said Sam left. Look, it’s got plates.” I pointed, eyebrows furrowed.

“They look new. It’s probably stolen.”

“So, whoever’s driving that rust bucket must be involved.” Kathleen snorted.

A beat-up van drove by, the engine loud, a whine. I looked to Dean, eyes wide as I remembered what Evan had said.

“Hear that engine?” Dean asked her.

“Yeah.”

“Kinda a whining growl, right?” I asked.

“Sure.” She shrugged.

I looked back to Dean and blinked back tears. He chuckled, mumbling to himself with a shake of his head.

“I’ll be damned.”

***

“Okay, the next traffic camera is fifty miles from here, but the pickup didn’t pass that one, so…” Kathleen sighed, keeping her eyes on the road.

“So, it must’ve pulled off somewhere. I didn’t see any other roads here.” Dean shook his head.

“Well, a lot of these backwood properties have their own private roads.”

“Great.” I sighed, resting my cheek against the headrest of Dean’s seat.

Kathleen turned her attention to her computer before her face wrinkled up in concern.

“So, Gregory.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?” Dean turned to her.

“I ran your badge number. It’s routine when we’re working a case with state police. For accounting purposes and whatnot.”

Dean nodded, and she sniffled as she pulled over.

“And uh, they just got back to me. It says here your badge was stolen.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up, confused.

“And there’s a picture of you.” She turned the computer to Dean, and it showed an African American man much older and much heavier than Dean.

“I lost some weight.” Dean chuckled. “And I uh, got that Michael Jackson skin disease.”

“Okay, would you step out of the car, please? This girl is a minor, but you-”

“Look, look, look.” I cut her off, and Dean looked at me over his shoulder, a sign to stop talking.

“If you wanna arrest me, that’s fine. I’ll cooperate, I swear. But first, please. Let me find Sam.”

“I don’t even know who you are! Or if this Sam person is actually missing.”

“He is! He’s my brother, and he’s missing! Please.” My nose burned as I put a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Look into my eyes and tell me if I’m lying about this.” Dean stared at her and reached up to take my hand.

“Identity theft? You’re impersonating an officer!”

“Look, here’s the thing. When we were young, I pretty much pulled him from a fire. And ever since then, I’ve felt responsible for him. Like it’s my job to keep him safe. I’m just afraid that if we don’t find him, and fast.” Dean’s voice broke. “Please.”

“He’s our family.” I blinked back tears.

“I’m sorry. You’ve given me no choice. I have to take you in.” She sighed and glanced at her visor.

A picture of her and another man, her age, smiling. She sighed again.

“After we find Sam Winchester.”

I let out a breath of relief and let my head drop against Dean’s shoulder. He squeezed my hand with a sigh, taking a deep breath.

***

“Hey, uh…” Dean trailed off, looking between me and Kathleen.

“Look. We don’t mean to press our luck.” I got the words out for him.

“Your luck is so pressed.” She spoke before taking a sip from her coffee.

“Right.” Dean sighed.

“Why are you helping us out anyways? Why don’t you just… lock him up and call CPS for me?” I asked.

A pained look formed on Kathleen’s face and her shoulders dropped. “My brother, Riley… he disappeared three years ago. A lot like Sam. We searched for him, but… nothing. I know what it’s like to feel responsible for someone, and for them to-” she shook her head. “Come on. Let’s just keep at it.”

Dean looked down at me. He was worried, a bit freaked out that he still had another sibling to lose. Scared of what was going to happen after. Frantic to find Sam. I met his eyes with a sigh. I held a hand out for him, and he took it with a sad smile.

“It’s gonna be okay.” I whispered. “Promise.”

***

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dean called, pointing. “Pull over there. Pull over.”

Kathleen pulled the car onto the side of the road, and Dean and I barreled out, into the edge of the forest.

“This is the first turn I’ve seen so far.”

“You two stay here, I’ll check it out.” Kathleen ordered as she came up behind us.

“No fucking way.” Dean scoffed.

“Hey.” Kathleen turned, hands on her hips. “You’re civilians. A kid. And a felon too, I think. I’m not taking you with me.”

“You are not going without me.”

Kathleen looked over to me and I shrugged with a sigh. “Michael here is a bit of a big, chest-puffed-out protector.”

Michael. Technically not Dean’s real name, but close enough. It would get his attention in a pinch, and it slipped past my lips way easier than a fake name would.

“Alright.” She shook her head. “You promise you won’t get involved? You’ll let me handle it? And Olive stays in the car.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Promise.”

“Wh-”

Dean shushed me, a hand to my shoulder, pushing me back behind him.

“Shake on it.” Kathleen held her hand out to him, and when Dean took it, Kathleen locked a pair of cuffs on his wrist.

“Oh, come on.”

“Wait, wait, Kathleen, please.” I went for her shoulder as she cuffed Dean to the car.

“Sorry, kid.” She grabbed me by the wrist and slammed a cuff onto me, linking me to my brother.

I tugged, and they cut into my skin like it was nothing. I cursed under my breath.

“This is ridiculous! Kathleen, I really think you’ll need our help.”

“I’ll manage. Thank you.” She smiled as she walked away.

“What the fuck do we do now?” I asked, tugging at our wrists.

My skin stung, and a stripe of blood fell down my hand. Dean tugged back.

“Stop it, you’re bleeding already.”

“Fucking hell.” I hissed, frustrated.

“Okay. Okay, we gotta start carrying paper clips. Or bobby pins!” He turned to me. “You’re a girl, do you have any bobby pins on you?”

I looked at him and rolled my eyes. “No, Dean. I’m a Winchester. I do not have bobby pins on me. Sammy might though.” I sighed, dread edging up in my stomach. “Sammy.”

“Okay. Okay, the antenna.” Dean nodded to my end of the car. “Can you reach to unscrew it?”

He was calm, cool, and collected.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can try.” I nodded. “Move with me.”

He shuffled over, stuck to my side. I took two steps, letting my arm pull as I went for the antenna. I didn’t reach.

“Fuck.”

An engine roared. A whining growl.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Fuck.” I repeated, stretching again.

“Come on, Ol. You can get it. Come on.”

I stretched my fingers, knuckles burning.

The engine got closer, and I mumbled another curse as Dean began to get antsy, inching as far as he could so I would be able to get further.

Panic set in, and things went sideways.

Scared. Worried. Angry. Hungry for something, but not blood.

Go.

I took a breath and let my eyes flutter closed. Dean said something, but I didn’t hear him.

Safety. You have to. Go.

Dean again, but nothing but a murmur against the thumping of blood in my ears.

My skin began to burn. My jaw ached. Head burning, wrist bleeding. Teeth against teeth, teeth tearing at metal.

Head aching, throbbing. Dean saying something.

“Hey. Hey, Beautiful. Hey.” Dean called.

I wasn’t cuffed anymore. I blinked, back in reality.

“Baby?”

I blinked, harder this time. The engine screamed.

“Shit!”

I busted ass reaching for the antenna. I unscrewed it and ran to Dean, forcing the cuffs off.

“Ollie?”

I forced back a yawn.

Dean is safe. You can rest now.

No.

“Olive.” He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Beanie?”

“We gotta go.” I mumbled, feeling my words slur together.

Rest.

No.

“Olive. Okay, okay. Come on.” He grabbed me by the waist and squeezed. “Jump.”

I blinked, confused. “What?”

“Up.” He pleaded. “Please.”

The engine, again, closer than before.

“De?” I mumbled, eyelids growing heavy.

Rest.

“No.” I hissed, and Dean grabbed me by the hips this time, yanking me up and over his shoulder.

I was left hanging, tired and numb.

Rest.

“N-”

“It’s okay, baby. Go to sleep. I’ve got you.” He whispered.

Rest.

Okay.

***

“Sweetheart, wake up.”

“Huh?” I blinked, the light burning.

“We gotta go get Sammy.”

I blinked again, this time forcing my eyes open. Dean was kneeling above me, one hand on my shoulder and the other on my cheek.

“Come on.”

I groaned as pushed myself to sit up. He grabbed me by the arms and helped me to my feet, catching me as I stumbled.

“Alright. Let’s go. I think he’s in there.” He nodded to a barn in front of us.

I groaned. “Creepy barn. Bad vibes.” I flicked a knife out of my boot, handing it to him.

“Stay behind me.” Dean whispered as he pushed the door open, knife up, level with his chest.

The light flooded in, and there was Sammy, in a cage. Hair matted, face dirty, eyes wide.

“Sammy?” I called, seeing his eyes light up. “Sammy! Bubs!” I ran to the cage, sticking my hands in between the bars.

He reached back, letting his face drop into my hands. “Hey, bug.” He smiled.

“You hurt?” Dean came up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“No.”

“Damn, it’s good to see you.” Dean let out a huff.

“How did you two get out of the cuffs?”

Dean turned at the sound of Kathleen’s voice, but I stayed focused on Sammy. He looked me over, eyes widening in concern.

“Cookie, what did you do?” He asked, grabbing the broken cuff and pulling my wrist up.

I sighed. “Uh… we got cuffed.”

He shook his head at me. “Ollie…” He trailed off. “Lemme see your teeth.” He moved to push my lip up. “How did you not chip them?”

I shrugged as he cupped my cheek. “Don’t remember.”

“Well, these locks look like they’re gonna be a bitch.”

“Yeah, there’s some kind of automatic control right there.” Sam stroked my cheek before taking his hand away and pointing to a panel on the wall.

“Have you seen it? What is it?” I asked.

“Yeah. They’re just people.”

“And they… jumped you?” I asked, blinking.

“Must be gettin’ a little rusty there, kiddo.” Dean scoffed as he began to try different buttons on the panel. “What do they want?”

“I don’t know.” Sam shook his head. “They let Jenkins go, but that was some sort of trap. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

I grabbed at Sam again, checking him over. He said he wasn’t hurt, but he had gone without a sound, and I found it hard to believe any normal person could move a six-two moose without hurting him.

“Well, that’s the point.” I sighed. “You know, with our… usual playmates… there’s rules. Patterns.”

“These people are just crazy.” Dean scowled, hitting the buttons once more.

“See anything else out there?” Sam asked me.

I shrugged. “I was out.”

“He, uh, has a dozen junked cars hidden out back. Plates from all over.”

“So when they take someone, they take the car too?” I asked.

“Did you see a black Mustang out there? About ten years old?” Kathleen stood in her cage, hands gripping the bars.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I did.” Dean nodded, and Kathleen’s face dropped.

“Your brother’s?” I turned.

She nodded.

“I’m sorry.” The three of us spoke at the same time.

“Let’s get you guys out of here, then Sam and I can blast these bastards while Olive and Kathleen scram.” Dean sucked in air through his teeth. “Alright, this thing takes a key. Key?”

“Dunno.” Sam sighed.

“Alright. We better go find it.” Dean grabbed me by the shoulder, and I shook him off.

“I wanna stay with Sams.”

He sighed, and he and Sam shared a look.

“I can fend for myself.” I looked at Dean with puppy eyes, and he sighed again.

“It’s okay.” Sam nodded at him. “It’s okay. Go.”

Dean sighed, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of my head.

“Be safe.” He whispered against my hair.

I nodded. “Always. Be careful. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

“Close to your cousin, huh?” Kathleen asked as I settled in front of Sam’s cage, my back to him and his hand in mine.

“He raised her.”

“He isn’t just any old felon, isn’t he?” She asked.

I began to squirm.

“I’m not gonna turn him in. You can tell me the truth.”

I looked at Sam over my shoulder, and he shook his head.

“Is he Dean Winchester? Your brother, the murder suspect?”

There were footsteps outside the door, and Sam’s hand went to my back, pushing me up. I scrambled to hide in the shadows as the door swung open and a hick walked in with a gun in his hand.

Sam.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, getting to his feet as the man unlocked his cage.

Sam.

Sam stumbled backward as the man pulled the door open.

Sam.

I began to shake. My blood was boiling.

Sam.

My jaw cracked, and blood spilled from my mouth, down my front.

Sam!

The gun went up, and a growl tore through my throat. The man turned to me, and I closed my eyes as I let the rage take over.

A gunshot. Another growl, teeth and blood, a second gunshot, and screaming.

***

“Ollie!”

“Olive, come on.”

“Ollie, please. Please, baby girl.”

I forced my eyes open. Someone was grabbing my face, and someone else had me in their hold.

“Olive. Hey! Hey.”

“Hi, honey.”

“What happened?” I mumbled, realizing that Dean’s hand was on my forehead as I sat up.

“You… blacked out.” Sam whispered.

“Did I…” I trailed off, seeing blood spilled down my front and under my nails.

“You did what you had to.” Dean tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Where’s Kathleen?”

“Waiting at the car.”

I blinked. “I’m sorry.”

Sam sighed from behind me, and Dean stroked my face again.

“It’s okay.”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

They spoke at the same time, and my immediate reaction was to crawl out of Sam’s lap and bury myself into Dean’s open arms. His chin rested on my head and he sighed.

“Let’s go home.”

***

“I think the car’s at the police station.” Dean told Sam as we stood by Kathleen’s side.

She was on her walkie, talking to someone. She needed backup, she needed to clear this family of freaks out.

“So…” She turned to us. “State police and the FBI are gonna be here within the hour. They’re gonna wanna talk to you. I suggest that you’re all long gone by then.”

“Thanks. Hey listen, I don’t mean to-”

“No.” I grabbed Dean by the hand to cut him off.

“Start walking.” Kathleen smiled at me. “Duck if you see a squad car.”

“Sounds good to me. Uh, thank you.” Sam smiled at her.

“Listen, uh… we’re…” I looked at Dean and then back at her with a sigh. “We’re sorry about your brother.”

“Thank you.” She began to tear up. “It was really hard not knowing what happened to him. I thought it would be easier once I knew the truth, but… it isn’t really.” She shook her head as she cleared her throat. “Anyways. You guys should get going.”

***

“Never do that again.” Dean spoke.

“Do what?” Sam asked, looking up from the ground at him.

“Go missing like that.”

“Ah, you were worried about me.” Sam smiled.

Dean snorted. “All I’m saying is, you vanish like that again, I’m not looking for you.”

Sam giggled. “Sure, you won’t.”

“He won’t. But I will. A hundred percent, every single time.” I wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist, and he threw his over my shoulders.

“So, Dean. Care to tell Olive how you got sidelined by a thirteen year old girl?”

“Oh, shove it.” Dean scowled.

“Just saying… getting rusty there, kiddo.” Sam winked.

“Shut up.” Dean pushed through a chuckle.

***

“Olive…” Sam trails off.

He’s sitting in a chair by the edge of the bed. Olive squirms. She’s freshly showered, but she’s so nervous that her skin is boiling and she’s hot, so hot. She’s sitting with her big brother, her savior. They’re on the bed, criss-cross and facing Sam.

Jinx is curled up at the foot of the bed. She’s happy that her family is home.

Sam wants to talk about this. He needs to talk about it. His sister isn’t normal.

Dean thinks there’s nothing to talk about. Olive didn’t choose her identity, and he’ll be damned if he lets anyone shame her for it.

Olive is horrified.

Her brother doesn’t love her anymore. How could he? She’s a monster.

Jinx can sense it. She whimpers, looking up at Sam.

“I’m sorry.” Olive whispers, voice low.

Dean wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“There is nothing to be sorry about.”

“I killed someone.”

“Olive.” Sam crouches to be eye-level with her. “You did what you had to do.”

Olive’s eyes jump up. Did Sam just… tell her it was justified?

“He’s right, baby.” Dean squeezes her, grabbing her hand in his.

“But I… I’m a monster.” She’s shaking.

“No.” Dean whispers, and Sam sighs.

“Dean, she is. She’s something.”

“She is not a monster.” Dean all but growls at his younger brother.

His baby sister may be a mix of something inhuman with a Winchester, but she is not a monster. He didn’t raise a monster. His little girl is just that. A girl.

“He’s right, Deano.” Olive looks up, stuck to her brother.

Dean shakes his head. “Okami.”

Olive recoils, and Sam’s world begins to spin. He gets up so fast that his chair goes flying to the ground. Olive flinches as she sits on the other bed. Far away from her brothers, far away from anyone she could hurt.

Jinx follows with a whimper, and Olive lets the small pup crawl into her lap. Olive begins to cry, and Jinx mimics the sound.

Sam tears through his father's journal.

Okami.

Monsters originating in Japan. They hunt and feed on humans. They develop a type.

Olive’s stomach heaves.

She knows her type.

Anything that threatens her family.

Sam looks at his sister.

She’s a kid. How could she be this? This horrible, flesh-eating monster?

Dean's eyes shut. He pinches the bridge of his nose. His baby, the one he vowed to protect, the one he raised from birth. His kid.

“She’s only a third.”

“What?” Sam turns, confused.

“Does that mean… you guys aren’t really my brothers?” Olive looks up from her lap, eyes wide.

“No. No, that’s not what it means.” Dean gets up, moving to sit in front of her.

She shuffles backwards, and Dean reaches his hands out. Jinx lets out a high pitched whine.

“You won’t hurt me.” He places a hand on her knee. “I promise.”

She shakes her head. She always knew something was wrong with her. But an Okami? She briefly wishes she had never been born.

“How?” Sam inches closer, the journal tossed aside.

He knows his sister, can see the fear in her eyes and the terror in her posture. That’s his kid sister. She’s his flesh and blood. In that moment, he makes his choice. He’ll do what he needs to in order to protect her, whether she’s human or not.

“Your mother.” Dean starts, then clears his throat. “Your mom, she was half Okami. She had fangs, too.” He looks at his baby, sees the fear behind her face. “She didn’t hurt anyone. She never did. Your mom was a good woman.”

“Then why did she give me up?” Olive’s voice is weak.

She loves her brothers, but she has wondered what life would be like with her mother in the picture.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know, baby girl. I don’t know why she gave you up.”

“Why am I a monster?” Olive breaks into a sob, hands going into her hair.

Sam sits next to her, grabs her by the waist, pulling her into his lap. She curls up, sobs into his chest. Jinx whimpers, scratching at Sam’s side.

“You aren’t a monster, kiddo.” Sam whispers into her hair. “You’re a Winchester.”

Dean leans against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with his little brother.

“It’s why when we’re in danger, it takes over.” Dean reaches for her hand.

She hesitates before taking it. “Is that why I tried to kill Sue Ann?”

He nods. “Yes. It’s why when you’re angry, you’re so invincible. Why when you’re in fight-or-flight, not much can hurt you. It’s why you heal so much faster than us.”

Her lip quivers, and her brothers crowd her.

“You’ll learn to control it. We can help you.” Dean squeezes her hand.

“Bug. Everything’s gonna be okay. We love you.”

She looks up at Sam. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “There’s nothing to say sorry for. I love you.”

She buries her head into him. “I love you too.”

She squeezes Dean’s hand, and the eldest Winchester feels a wave of relief wash over him. He squeezes back.

“I love you guys.” Olive whispers.

Dean and Sam share a look. This is their baby sister. They have to protect her, no matter the cost. Dean presses a kiss to her hand.

“We love you too.”

“Thank you.”

Sam and Dean share a look.

“For what, bug?”

She looks up again, this time right at Dean. Brown bores into green, and tears blur his vision. This is his kid. And she’s scared of herself. He can’t stand it.

“For always protecting me.”

Dean chuckles, a single tear sliding down the curve of his nose. He winks at her.

“Wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

Previous Ep: Nightmare (1.14)

Previous fic: Sammy the Birthday Moose

Next Ep: Shadow (1.16)

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comicsteve-blog · 4 years

Text

23ish Things I’ve Learned about the World from Coronavirus.

This is not meant to belittle any of the chaos but to offer some slightly humorous perspective. Here are my quick observations on our new world:

1) ‘Driveway drinks’ are all the rage. - I’m a ‘social social’ distancer (SSD) and proactively socialize from 10-12 feet away. Most of us have reluctantly embraced social distancing. However, if you’re a social person, the creative emphasis is on the “social” part, not the “distance”. New taglines are emerging such as “Hey let’s eat not together”, “Facetime drinks anyone?”, or “Love to see you from 7 feet away!” Personal space will never be…. the …… same.

· (as an aside, there’s definitely a subset of the population who's thrilled to have a valid reason to be as anti-social as possible... you people know who you are).

2) Join me for a scotch by phone! Zoom video happy hours (ZVHH) will be a new thing. And they’re much cheaper to host - I open the Zoom room, you bring your own alcohol. Pants not required.

3) Household dynamics have changed - Stay at home moms & dads now have stressed out working from home husbands & wives, plus children learning at home. You’re forced to share your space, which can cause major distress. Soon each person will be assigned a room. Who gets the kitchen as their safe space? Who gets the bathroom? Trades will be made, fights will occur. I’ll trade you an avocado for use of the toilet.

4) Pre-Corona sanitizing – was there any? With everyone’s justified obsession with constant handwashing and sanitizing, it begs the question: Were we all dirty and unsanitary beforehand?? Was the subway ever sanitary? When was the last time my crappy gym was cleaned? Howie Mandel aside, I’m just not clear on where we stood on cleanliness in the past?

5) Demographic trends are emerging – Here are the top predicted trends that will emerge in the coming months/years: Corona-babies. Corona-divorces. Highest percentage of babies born to the recently divorced. Babies named Corona to honor their conception. Babies born very, very clean.

6) Spouse anxiety inequity (SAI) – This occurs when your spouse is exponentially more worried than you are. You’re ok with washing hands and taking basic precautions. But you’re not as keen to go apesh*t with your paranoia. One spouse is freaking out, the other is fine. Kids are confused, households divided. There are hand washing timers and toilet paper square limits. Of course, intimacy is out of the question until everything has been sufficiently washed for 20 seconds or more.

7) Newfound family time (NFT) - People have discovered things they never knew existed: 1) walks are a thing 2) family togetherness 3) nature. We didn’t need Trump to make America great again, it was the coronavirus. If there’s one thing we can be grateful for: newfound family love 😊. (note: too much of this will promptly lead to divorce).

8) Emails, so many emails! – Every company I’ve ever shopped or transacted at in the past 15 years has sent me emails. I get hundreds a day from businesses I forgot all about. It’s good to be back in touch Pilates studio I went to once 11 years ago! And I’m glad to hear you’re disinfecting your counters.

9) Physical greetings have eternally changed - Hand shaking is gone forever. Fist bumping is thankfully gone. Elbow shakes are a new thing. Head nods are nice. Finger guns are making a strong comeback. What else will emerge?

10) Rules about remote schooling – While teaching virtually, schools are encouraging kids to use Facetime and social media to be safe. Education by Tik-tok?? Despite the near term logic, everything we’ve been yelling at them about the past 10 years is out the window! Between social distancing and strictly electronic communication, I worry if kids will ever learn to talk to people in person? Is eye contact still a thing?

On the other hand, it’s a strange kind of torture for kids to be out of school yet unable to see their friends or play ball in the park.

11) Conversation about anything but Coronavirus is no longer a thing - I for one am burned out. I’m not trying to downplay the chaos; I’m just anxious and frustrated at having the same conversation repeatedly. Can we maybe discuss something else - even for a minute? Still, regardless of whatever topic you begin to explore during dinner, it inevitably gets turned back to COVID-19 in the end (even sex).

12) Watching the news is the most dangerous activity you can do - Nothing brings panic and anxiety more than CNN. By the way, has anything else happened in the news in the past week? Isn’t this an election year? I don’t know that I’ve heard any other stories. I feel badly for people who get sick or injured from non-COVID19 things… no one seems to care. (unless of course you’re Tom Hanks and have contracted COVID-19).

13) Reevaluating what you buy in the grocery store - You used to have a plan. Now you gladly take whatever’s left on the shelf. We don’t eat this. We do now!

· Only loser pasta is left. Gluten free, pasta made from chickpeas (what??).

· While the chicken is gone, there’s tons of fake meat available. Impossible!

· As a related aside, is there a reason everyone’s buying 18 cartons of toilet paper? Does coronavirus cause diarrhea? (does fake meat?)

· What’s the protocol for produce? It’s out and has clearly been touched. Hmmm. To be safe, I recommend turning all fruit into sangria “to kill the germs”

· Finally, I almost got into a knife fight at Shoprite last night because some fool tried to grab a bag of that delicious yellow Vigo rice out of my shopping cart. Some things are worth fighting for (as an aside, you can have my gluten free bread and oat milk).

14) The accidental cough (TAC) - God forbid someone coughs or sneezes publicly; they’re immediately met with dread. How dare you! Stay away! A sneeze on the bus is perhaps the most appalling thing anyone could do right now. The dry cough? Even worse. Please keep your non-corona bodily reactions to yourself.

15) Homemade hand sanitizer is a thing – I heard some are wasting perfectly good Tito’s vodka to try and make their own hand sanitizer. Tito’s had to put out a statement that it doesn’t work because the alcohol content is too low. In unrelated news, the moonshine business is really taking off nicely.

16) Watching sports – Seems like the sports networks, having run out of things to discuss, are now playing classics. I enjoyed the Mets-Expos 17 inning game from 1988 but seriously there’s got to be better programming options. We’re all home watching TV after all. BTW, if COVID-19 can’t boost network TV ratings, I’m not sure what could. (also please stop broadcasting video game football, that’s not a real sport).

17) Avoid large gatherings - Done. Small gatherings are all the rage. 50+ no good. 49 or under… no problem. (note this # changes daily, soon 7 will be the new cap).

18) Bars were closed on St. Patrick’s Day ☹ - This is an oxymoron. So what are we to do? Host a Zoom happy hour of course. Up to 49 people can attend (not sure I know that many people). I do feel bad for bar owners – their Superbowl has been cancelled.

19) No fighting – Somewhat related to St. Patty’s, fighting is now a thing of the past. You can aggressively curse someone out for coughing in public. Unless that person is unconcerned, there will be no physical retaliation. Go ahead, try it.

20) Travel deals anyone? Sure I imagine all travel may be shut down soon…. But in the meantime, you can quickly (and irresponsibly) book a trip to Florida for $50, the Caribbean for $75, or the space station on the moon for $179. Depending on your risk tolerance and recklessness, this is a great opportunity to see the world.

21) Ignore the stock market – Like everybody else, I watch in disgust as my investments plunge. But I don’t need this money tomorrow, so I’m doing my best to ignore it. Plus there are some obvious areas to potentially invest in: Zoom. Reckitt Benckiser (owns Lysol). Gojo Industries (owns Purell). P&G (TP). Netflix. And of course alcohol and cannabis companies are always a safe bet.

22) Classes at the Polo Club are shut down – this is perhaps the worse tragedy of all. The Polo Club in Boca Raton has canceled its classes. For fk’s sake! If my 75-year-old mother can’t start her day with Zumba, all hell is sure to break lose. As a related aside, mah-jongg tiles are basically carriers in and of themselves. You’ve never seen a Florida community spread a virus until a mah-jongg tournament gets underway.

23) Observe young children and animals - I realize that sounds awfully inappropriate. But I love the fact that my dog and kids playing outside are so innocent and naïve during these times. They don’t seem to have a worry in the world and keep enjoying life with a smile (or tail wag). Think like a child or a puppy, maybe you’ll feel better for a moment or two.

Kidding aside, we’re all doing our best to control this pandemic and get over the hump…. I leverage humor to treat my pain, and I think we all could use a little levity right now. Eventually, we’ll overcome and be back to a new normal (minus handshakes and in-person happy hours).

If you need me, I’ll be performing in an empty comedy club down the street. Stay tuned for my next post – foolproof tips on working from home! Stay safe my friends, Steve

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Stephen Strauss survived the corporate world for 20+ years and is now a content and marketing consultant. He’s performed stand-up comedy hundreds of times at comedy clubs and corporate functions including sales meetings and customer events. Research confirms his jokes made his fellow co-workers 47% happier.

Please connect at [email protected], via LinkedIn, or just open your window and scream his name (that's probably safest).

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