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creedslove · 9 months

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HEARTLESS 💔 - PART TWELVE

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: The day before Wyatt's birthday brings you a series of information on Jack you didn't expect, revealing he was a lot more broken than you thought

(This is the twelfth chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO ELEVEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: angst, hurt, mentions of depression, mentions of implied suicide attempt, fluff, mom!reader

A/N: This was a difficult chapter because it ended up being a lot more angsty than I intended, but it felt right to the story, I hope you besties enjoy it ❤️🥺

4.1k words

You bit your lips as you took the road that led you to Jack's ranch. You felt an anxiety creeping up your chest, at the same time Wyatt couldn't take his excitement of going back to his papa's house. It was going to be a big weekend for your baby boy: his birthday party happening on Saturday on the ranch for the very first time. It was a huge event for Wyatt as kids are absolutely obsessed with their birthdays and for Jack too, being the first birthday he'd get to spend with his boy. Not only that, for the first time, his ranch would welcome a party and be filled with people, kids running around, music, laughter and everything Jack's lonely heart had ever wished for since the moment he'd bought that ranch.

Jack had asked you to go on Friday afternoon, he had a surprise for Wyatt and he would like for his son to be able to enjoy it before the party, so there wouldn't be too many kids wanting to play too and stealing his thunder.

For the past two weeks, you'd been in contact all the time, for visiting as your son and his dad couldn't stay away from each other, growing attached each passing day and because you and him needed to plan the party. Jack had assured you all you needed to do was to decide decoration, food, and pick any other details and he would make it happen, regardless of how much it would cost. He was willing to make your son's little dreams come true and he wasn't going to spare any money.

However, as the co-parenting part was going great, your relationship with Jack was someone else. After that morning at your apartment, he just took his distance from you; he was physically there several times during the week, playing and spending time with Wyatt and planning the details of the party with you, buying the three of you dinner from your favorite places or ice cream for dessert, he was still kind, generous and polite, but he was emotionally distant from you, understanding that you didn't want anything to do with that old cowboy. So now he respectfully addressed you by your name and only that, no sugar, sweetheart or darling, he was keeping respectful. He also hadn't mentioned anything related to his love life nor yours, so you had no idea if he tried Tinder again or going on any dates, the thought still bothering you even if you tried acting like it didn't, but it also puzzled you that Jack hadn't said anything about Frankie either. It didn't take big brains to assume the cowboy hated the pilot and vice versa, but you expected Jack to go full maniac and have someone at Statesman get a hold of Frankie's classified file or criminal records and whatever, and your guess was that Frankie was clean, otherwise Jack would've said something already. Sometimes you thought Jack's reaction was an exaggeration but overall it felt reassuring to know he would do his best to keep you and Wyatt safe.

As for you and Frankie, things were… slow. He had some jobs to do here and there and you were quite thankful for that, it's not that you didn't want Frankie anymore, but you thought that maybe you and him weren't on the same page anymore, or perhaps you never were and your whole relationship was just a way to try and run away from the haunting ghost that was your former relationship with Jack Daniels. You had even invited Frankie to the party - especially after Jack gave you a free hand to do whatever you wanted to - because you thought it would be nice for him to bring his daughter Melissa along. She was a year older than Wyatt and though you'd never met her just as Frankie had never met your son, you assumed it would be cool, it was another kid for your son to play with on his special day.

Wyatt was a giggly mess, not containing himself as he couldn't wait to see his daddy and play on the ranch. You felt your heart warming with love, at your son's happiness, having his daddy around was essential for his blossoming into a more extrovert and confident child.

You parked in front of the ranch, finding it odd Jack's bronco wasn't there, but instead of overthinking things, you helped Wyatt unbuckle and get out of the car. You held his little hand as you walked inside, but he immediately ran away at the same time Helen welcomed you with a hug. She was so glad to see you and your son again, and especially after she learned you and Jack were on good terms, even if it meant you were friends and nothing more, it was good to see Jack smile, go back to riding his horses, excited about things once more, from one who watched him from afar, it seemed he went back to life, after getting his family back.

"Dada???" Wyatt squealed at the top of his little lungs once he got into the house, he thought it was odd for him not to welcome them, but his attention was immediately shifted to the coffee table, where he was the most adorable horse action figures he'd seen. Helen smiled at him "you're daddy is at work, but he left these horses for you" she explained as Wyatt rushed to the table, sitting on the floor and immediately began playing with them "did you know your daddy was your size when he played with his little horses? His mama found the box she kept them and sent it over to your daddy, so he could give it to you" Helen explained to your son in her gentle voice, while her hand ran through his soft curls. Wyatt smiled widely, so entertained by the toy, and no matter if the action of time was visible, he fell in love with each little horse of the set. It was a simple one, and you could have a small glimpse into Jack's humble but also very happy childhood, and suddenly a suffocating need to see your cowboy appeared. As if Helen read your mind, she smiled "Jack is back at Statesman, he went to hand out some invitations for tomorrow, but he shouldn't take long"

You nodded and followed her into the kitchen, knowing your son would be quietly playing by himself and accepting Helen's cup of tea.

"A penny for your thoughts?" She tilted her head and chuckled at your frowned expression "I can see something is going on in this pretty little head of yours, honey and I know it has to do with a certain cowboy…"

Your cheeks heated up immediately and you looked around a little embarrassed to see you were too easy to read, or perhaps Jack told her everything that happened, it wouldn't be too surprising if he had, as he often got very chatty once he drank a lot, and Helen played the role of friend very often too, whenever she didn't have to act like Jack's mother at his irresponsible behavior.

"What has he told you about the latest events?" You raised your eyebrow and let the woman make an account of what Jack had told her about his attempt of going on a date and everything else that happened after that. "...He was very upset when he got home that morning, I assumed he had done something bad, but I see he was just feeling rejected; though I can see you aren't looking like a million bucks either, so I'm guessing the situation messed up with the two of you"

"I just don't know what to do anymore, Helen… I try so hard to fight my feelings for Jack, but they're still so strong, even after everything he did to me, I can't help but love him. But at the same time I'm scared of giving into this love, how can I trust him? He even talked about trying for a little sister for Wyatt, but Helen, how can I get pregnant with his child after everything he did to me?" You said as your eyes were full of tears, you were just too confused and scared of what things would be like, of what people would talk about if you ever decided to give in and try things with Jack.

"Y/N!" Helen chuckled "you are overthinking things right now… a baby? Sure, that's a situation to think about, but no one is asking you to jump into that right now… Jack is asking you for a chance! A chance of taking you on a date, of showing you he can take care of you and Wyatt and that you will be happy with him" Helen took your hand and caressed it happy "Jack loves you and Wyatt, he's a man who really loves his family and I know he's done some real bad shit, but he's proving to you he's turning into a better person, isn't he?" She smiled as you nodded and bit your lips "no one is telling you to jump right into his bed, but let him in, you want him to get near too, don't you? Give him a chance, spend the weekend with him, feeling what it would be like to be an actual family with your cowboy" Helen smiled but a shadow crossed her face as something dark flickered in her eyes and she cleared her throat "I'm sorry if I seem insisting, I don't mean to make you embarrassed but I just worry about Jack so much… but ever since you walked into his life… Well, ever since he walked back into your lives and you accepted him, he has improved, you know? Because he was bad…"

"Yeah, I know… he told me about the mission and all" you always felt sad when you thought about that, looking at Helen and seeing how she went serious

"What about before the mission? Did he tell you what happened?"

"No… what else happened? Did he get hurt?" You gulped, as your anxiety was increasing by the minute you realized the subject was even more serious than you thought. Helen sighed and got up, going to the kitchen window and checking to see if Jack's bronco wasn't there, she knew he wouldn't forgive her if he overheard her telling you what had happened.

"You have to promise me you're not gonna say anything to him at all, please, he's gonna be really angry if he knows I told you… he doesn't like talking about that at all"

"I-I promise, now please Helen, tell me already, you're making me anxious…"

The older woman sighed and rubbed the back of her head "Jack's behavior had been really erratic, especially the months before he decided to finally go after you and Wyatt. I noticed he seemed to be more and more depressed, as he was dwelling into his loneliness and guilt, and that's when the heavy drinking began. I mean, you do know he drinks, but it wasn't just his usual drink, it was more, and he was mixing up alcohol too, something I had never seen him do… he's a classy man, and he likes whiskey and that's about it"

She took a breath and served the two of you some more tea, taking a longer sip and swallowing slowly, before she could talk again

"And with the drinking, it also came the dangerous behavior… it was first the driving and drinking, he had always been extra careful with that, but suddenly, it was like it didn't really matter anymore to him, he would just get drunk and speed up whenever he needed to leave home. Then we had the horse incident… Jack decided to ride one weekend, he hadn't been around his horses very much, and especially not Silver Pony and I guess it's because it reminded him of you, but still, he went riding and he didn't get his saddle correct and he fell from the horse, and Y/N, you know Jack and how good he is at horseback riding, you know he wouldn't simply forget to fix his saddle. Well, he fell from the horse and the doctor said it was a miracle he hadn't broken any bones and if he had hit his head in the fall…" Helen sighed and watched as you looked at her in horror, your eyes wide at what you had just started learning from him. You had no idea until what extent he was broken, but that made you hurt in a way it was impossible to explain.

"And there was this evening I called him because dinner was ready, but he wasn't answering. It was just odd, Jack isn't the kind of guy to ignore, so I went to his room and I found him passed out… He'd washed down some sleeping pills with whiskey and god… I don't even like to think what would've happened. Of course he denies it and says it's an accident, but when the Statesman forced him to go to therapy, I sighed relieved, and when he first came back home after spending time with you and Wyatt and I saw the beautiful smile in his face, I prayed so hard he would find his way in life, and of course I know you're not a savior and it's not obligation to save anyone, but it's important to know you have such positive effect on him, and well, if you two are meant to be, there's really no other way out of this, you'll stay together"

By the time Helen was finished telling you those things, you realized your tears were running down your cheeks; you sniffled and tried to wrap your head around the fact that if it weren't for fate, or a little divine intervention, your cowboy Jack, would be dead by then. It was a suffocating feeling, there wasn't a loss, but the mere prospect of it was enough to make your stomach swirl and your chest get too heavy to breathe.

"Dada!!!" Your son's voice was enough to break the spell you were under and you quickly dried your tears as best as you could, being able to hear Jack's heavy boots walking and his voice cheering and talking to Wyatt. You and Helen looked at each other and you tried your best to pretend you hadn't been talking about Jack for the past half an hour, as he walked into the kitchen, he politely greeted you and at that moment you knew you'd give everything to hear him call you sugar.

The cowboy was carrying Wyatt in his arms and tickling his tummy, loving to hear his happy giggles, but frowned immediately as he saw your crying face

"What happened?" He asked concerned and took a step closer,

"Uh, nothing… I was telling Helen about my mom" you mouthed the end of the sentence so Wyatt wouldn't be curious or wouldn't get upset at the mention of his grandma "she's not coming to the party because I didn't invite her after what happened…" you added to your half lie, as you hadn't invited her at all especially because she would give you shit about letting Jack throw the party and also because you were sure she would end up screwing up the party to one of you, if not to everyone.

Jack bought your excuse as he felt sad to know you were having problems with your mom, of course he still felt guilty about that, but he was aware that you have always had problems with her, so it's not like it'd started just because of him. Yet, the cowboy took a step closer and took his hand to your face, his thumb wiping the last tear that insisted on rolling down your cheek.

"I'm sorry about that, sugar, but pretty girls like yourself shouldn't cry… ain't that right Wyatt? Don't you think that pretty girls like mama shouldn't cry?" He talked to your son, who joined the conversation excitedly, at the same time you leaned into Jack's touch, before he could shy away.

There it was: sugar.

You had no idea how much you'd missed that until you heard it again from his lips after weeks of awkwardness around each other. You didn't think twice before wrapping your arms around Whiskey and burying your face into his chest you sniffed into his scent and playfully nibbled your son's little legs, making him squealed in pure happiness. You felt the cowboy's arms wrapping around your body and keeping you in that embrace, his family's embrace.

You looked up at Jack's puzzled face and smiled big at him

"I guess I missed you" you rested your head against his chest once more and felt when his lips pecked the top of your head, and chuckled when Wyatt did the same, imitating his daddy in being an authentic southern gentleman.

•••

Jack had kindly asked Helen to set things out in the backyard so he could grill his famous burger for dinner. He knew you used to love them when you were together and he was hoping his son would also take a liking to it as well, but first, he was overly excited to show the two of you, Wyatt's birthday gift. He wanted it to be a day before his actual birthday so the other kids wouldn't make a fuss about it and he could play calmly. He called you to follow them, placing his own stetson back on and handed Wyatt's small one. You felt kind of disappointed Jack didn't have one for you, after all, he had said he would get you a hat too, but you felt sad to realize he probably assumed you'd been just joking. He guided you towards the stables, Wyatt was very excited, his arms wrapped tight around Jack's neck and little eyes widening the second he spotted the new farm fence right next to the horses. You were also extremely curious to know what the cowboy had come up to your baby.

"Do you know how to read?" He asked Wyatt who shook his head a little confused as he stared into a sign at the gate of the dence, Jack smiled sweetly at him "then papa's gonna teach you. Look!" He pointed at the W and his fingers followed the sequence

"W… Y… A… T… T…" He read out loud "Wyatt's ranch, that's what it says baby boy, it's your ranch" Jack explained to him excitedly with a shit eating grin, opening the gate and pulling Wyatt down the moment he spotted the pony his daddy got for him.

The little boy felt he was going simply insane, as his present was also his new best friend, he immediately hugged the little pony which was very gentle and easy going towards kids. He loved how the pony looked like a tiny little version of Silver Pony and he looked up at his parents, his eyes had happy tears, being so emotional to have the best birthday of his little life. Your son clung to you and Jack, and sobbed happy tears, at the same time he giggled when the pony nudged his hand gently. He sniffled and leaned into his daddy's soothing touch, who dried his tears and smiled

"W-what's the name daddy? Of my pony?" He managed to ask, and Jack chuckled "she's yours, baby, you can pick whichever name you want" he caressed his soft curls and smiled at you.

Wyatt nodded and caressed the pony cute head, thinking very hard as he looked at you "she looks like Silvew Pony, mommy…" he said melting your heart, so you just nodded and stroked his cheek "yes she does… maybe Silver Pony is the mommy and she is the daughter" you suggested, knowing it wasn't possible but for Wyatt's innocent head it made so much sense he gasped. He held her head gently and looked into her eyes, showing how good he was at handling animals, again, another trait inherited from his dad senior agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels

"Silvew Staw" he said proudly.

You didn't know exactly how long you and Jack spent watching Wyatt play with Silver Star, but it didn't matter as your little boy was thrilled. He was so happy and wouldn't stop giggling and cuddling the pony, kind of treating her like a puppy, while you and Jack took turns between watching and playing along. When evening came, Jack said it was time for dinner, though Wyatt didn't want to leave Silver Star, which caused the three of you to take the pony back to the house and let Wyatt play with her while Jack worked on grilling his burgers. Helen had set everything up, and your heart clenched as you saw she'd placed everything you loved, your favorite bread, your favorite sauces and fries too, knowing how much you loved when the cowboy made his burgers or steak.

You held Wyatt who sat on your lap exhausted and downed a box of apple juice, as he watched his dad make dinner. You could tell your son was tired but extremely happy as he couldn't stop smiling. You snuggled him and rested your chin on his head, loving how warm your son was. You could tell he was hungry but he was so tired he didn't even seem to notice.

You on the other hand, nearly salivated the moment Jack served you your burger, you ate it so quickly, savoring each bite and not one single bit embarrassed about your satisfied moans, Jack thought it was quite amusing and couldn't stop watching you, feeling happy at that moment of pure domesticity, he extended his hand and placed it above yours, stroking it gently, you bit your lips at the realization of how big his hand was and what they were capable of doing. He pointed at the lawn and the two of you laughed softly as you saw Wyatt and Silver Star napping on the grass together. The toddler was snuggling his pony and that made you very happy.

You looked back at Jack and took his hand again

"Thank you, for everything… Today's been wonderful and it's already the best birthday he's ever had, even if his birthday is technically tomorrow… and his present is amazing"

He chuckled and caressed your knuckles with his thumb "anything for our son, sugar and anything for you too, all you gotta do is ask"

"I know you were there Jack" you suddenly said and he frowned in confusion "the day I gave birth to our son, I know you'd been there, in the hospital… I saw you, you went there to see us, but I was too feverish to say anything and in the morning my mom assured me I had hallucinated" you sighed sadly and Jack immediately left his chair and sat next to you.

You looked into his eyes and there it was, his soft, teary eyes, full of hurt and regret, but at the same time making you see he was still your Jack, your cowboy

"I-I tried holding Wyatt, I really did, but your mom told me not to, she said you'd given orders to specifically not let me get near Wyatt" he swallowed "I'm sorry I didn't insist more, maybe if I had held our son, I wouldn't have left, hell, I'm sure I wouldn't have left, I'm sorry Y/N, I know that you will never forgive me and I know I'm not worthy of your forgiveness but I wish I could show you I mean business when I say I want you and Wyatt, I want to make things right between us and our son" he said in his desperate way once more, even after he had vowed not to beg for you any longer.

You stroked his cheek "I'm confused and I know I make you confused too, Jack, we're like cat and mouse now, I wish I could just take a decision and stick to it, I wish I could be rational with my feelings, but feelings are never rational" you said "the rational thing would be moving on from each other, me finding a nice guy to rebuild my life and you finding yourself a new sugar, someone you can give yourself fully into your relationship now that your late family is behind you, but we both know this is not possible"

You blinked some of your tears "I wanna try if you wanna try, Jack… I wanna believe and have faith in you, so I guess I want a chance for us to see if we can still be a family, but I also need some time, I need to talk to Frank-"

Jack interrupted you by placing a peck on your lips, he didn't even want to hear you mention that other guy's name. He thought his heart would burst out of his chest at any minute, it was like his dream was coming true.

"I don't want to just jump into your bed Jack, I want us to do things right, restart, get to know each other again, because we are different people after everything that happened… all I'm trying to say is: will you be patient with me?"

"I'll do anything for you, sugar" he leaned towards you and kissed your lips, as you two decided to take a step together towards the future.

____

A/N: Hi besties, did you like the chapter? I hope so ❤️ Whiskey is the best dad in the world or what? And for a brief moment I considered making him also gift reader with a baby goat because 🤏🤏🤏

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awesomedurraworld · 7 months

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Shatter your heart into dust ( Whumptober 2023), Day 7:

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories:

F/M

Gen

Fandoms:

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga

Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types

Relationships:

Edward Elric & Riza Hawkeye

Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang

Edward Elric & Roy Mustang

Characters:

Edward Elric

Riza Hawkeye

Roy Mustang

Black Hayate (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Additional Tags:

Whumptober 2023

Day 7

Alleyway

Parental Riza Hawkeye

References to Depression

Suicide Attempt

mentioned previous attempts

Mental Health Issues

Depression

Dinner

Hugs

Mother-Son Relationship

she loves her boy

Parental Roy Mustang

at the end

Crying Edward Elric

Hurt Edward Elric

Crying Riza Hawkeye

Happy Ending

Language:English

Series: Part 7 of Shatter your heart into dust. ( whumptober 2023)

Collections:Whumptober 2023

Summary:

Walking happily under the warm sun in a late afternoon, Riza and her loyal dog, Black Hayate, were making their way around after they visited few shops and markets. It was Saturday, the sun was shining the birds were chirping and everything was amazing. That is until she heard a gunshot. Or! Riza finds Ed in Alleyway and takes him home with her.

Whumptober 2023:

Day 7: “ I paced around for hours on empty, I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio silence | “ can you hear me?”

It’s been a week since this angsty month started and today’s fic is a gift to all who thinks that this world is better without them ❤️

#fmab #edward elric #ao3 fanfic #roy mustang #fanfic #fma #whumptober 2023 #parental roy #parental riza #riza hawkeye #Mama Riza is the queen here I am telling you

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openheartfanfics · 1 year

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Newly Added Fics

Jan 7 - 13, 2023

BRYCE X F!MC / F!OC

Build-a-Bear: After Dark - @storyofmychoices 📱Ⓜ

Olivia finds an unexpected advertisement on Instagram.

Chasing The Sundown - @chocopeppermintcake ☁

Bryce and Casey spend some time together before their shifts.

ETHAN X F!MC

A Day in the Life - @potionsprefect 📷

Ethan and Victoria have an early shift at the hospital, and become plant parents.

A Little Delay - @jerzwriter ☁

It's a lazy Saturday afternoon, and Ethan is marveling at how much his life has changed... and how much he wants to do with Celia... but then, things take a not-so-sweet turn.

Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing - @jerzwriter 📱Ⓜ

Kaycee teases Ethan while he's out shopping, saving the best surprise for the end.

Amazing - @utterlyinevitable ☁

Ethan doesn’t understand new workplace technologies. He does understand how to woo his unofficial girlfriend. [Date; Secret Relationship]

Part 1

Breathe Through - @genevievemd 🦚

When her anxiety rears it’s head in the middle of the night, Genevieve realizes she finally has someone to lean on. [Hurt/Comfort; Illness/Injury]

Business in Miami - @potionsprefect 📷

Victoria and Ethan head to Miami for a business trip. [Miami]

Complete - @coffeeheartaddict2 ☁

The arrival of Alexis Christine Ramsey. TW: Brief mention of past traumatic birth [Pregnancy]

Double The Fun - @liaromancewriter 📷

These apples fell right under the tree. [Domestic; Family]

I do - @ethanramseytwilight ☁

They get married. Told from both lovebirds' perspectives. [Wedding]

I wish.... (Part 2) - @ethanramseytwilight 🦚

Aftermath of their break up. Feat. OH Gang

Memories.... - @ethanramseytwilight ☁

Ethan gets to see Catherine's photo album.

Stating the Obvious - @liaromancewriter ☁

Cassie struggles with the twins, and Ethan shows off his skills. [Domestic; Family]

The Elf Affair - @liaromancewriter ☁🎄

When it comes to Christmas, there’s one tradition that Cassie Valentine would be happy to forget.

‘Tis the Damn Season - @genevievemd 📚📷 [extended: wip] A look into the final eight months of Ethan and Gen’s first year of marriage.

February 1a | 1b

What Happened in Vegas - @jerzwriter 📚🛸

[mini: wip] Casey & her roommates are heading to Vegas, intent on taking down Declan Nash and Panacea; but this time, Dr. Ethan Ramsey is in tow.

An Interlude

MULTIPLE PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS

(Further) Trials & Tribulations - @utterlyinevitable 📚Ⓜ

[extended: complete] Drabbles of what happened immediately following Trials & Tribulations. TW: Depression, toxic relationship Feat. Bryce Lahela, Ethan Ramsey x F!MC, Sienna Trinh, Naveen Banerji

Part 9: Avoidance makes the heart grow stronger [Bryce - Hurt/Comfort, Friends with Benefits; Ethan - Broke Up, Issues]

Parking Lot Problems - @inlocusmads ☁

It is Jane's first day at work. Meanwhile Ethan struggles to find a parking spot. Feat. Ethan Ramsey, F!MC, Sienna Trinh

SIENNA X M!OC

Heartbreakers - @liaromancewriter 📱

Sienna and Max tease each other with old photographs.

TOBIAS X F!MC

A Perfect Date - @jerzwriter ☁

Tobias plans a big night out on the town for them to celebrate. Not everything goes as planned, but it ends perfectly. [Date]

By Chance... - @jerzwriter 🛸☁

Sometimes, when plans go wrong, they're actually falling into place. During a night out while attending Hopkins, Tobias meets a fascinating woman.

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

#open heart #open heart choices #choices open heart #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #sienna trinh #sienna trinh x oc #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #newly added fics

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tatesweaterweather · 3 years

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Masterlist

Smut = [*]

Tate Langdon:

Reader having flashbacks of Kid!Tate

Saturday afternoon make out session with Pre-death!Tate

How I think Tate would come out to you as bi

How I think Tate would react to the readers SH

Sex headcanons with switch!Tate *

Kit Walker:

Wedding sex with Kit *

Taking care of drunk Kit

Kit helping you through a panic attack

Adopting puppies with Kit

Escaping Briarcliffe with Kit

How I think Kit would react to the readers low moods/depressive episodes

Reader slow dancing with Kit while they’re unpacking in their new house together

Getting high with hippie Kit

Kyle Spencer:

Teaching Franken-Kyle a night routine

Teaching Franken-Kyle how to ride a bike

Bathing with Franken-Kyle

Taking care of Franken-Kyle after the accident

Taking care of sick Franken-Kyle

Jimmy Darling:

Thigh-riding with Jimmy *

James Patrick March:

Babysitting with James in the hotel

Introducing the topic of pride flags to James

Reader making a joke about ‘boring’ sex with James and he gets angry *

Kai Anderson:

Kai meeting you, the other cult leader in town

Sex tapes with Kai *

Kai ‘saving’ you from the cult

Reader sleeping with teacher Kai *

Having a relationship with Kai ‘I hate everyone but her’ Anderson

Angry sex with Kai *

Toxic, angsty sex with Kai *

Peter Maximoff:

Dominating Peter Maximoff *

Dating Peter Maximoff

Sharing the same gifts as Peter

Peter taking care of you after a long/bad day

Befriending Peter in junior high

Sleepy sex with Peter *

Colin Zabel:

Overstimulating Colin Zabel *

Warren Lipka:

Intoxicated sex with Warren *

Winter Anderson:

Winter defending you to Kai

Prompts for requests:

Smut prompts

#american horror story #kai anderson #james patrick march #kit walker #tate langdon #jimmy darling #kyle spencer #evan peters #evan peters x reader #fanfic #peter maximoff #peter maximoff smut #evan peters quicksilver #x men quicksilver #winter anderson

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mother-snake · 4 years

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who lives, who dies, who tells your story

(i fucking cried again. oops. god i need to stop making these angsty.) for full effect play the song This will end or Thus to always tyrants by the oh hellos for full effect... :,D the final installment of thursday and the gude to the other side.

start: thursday previous: a guide to the other side pt 10

taggs: @idkanameatall

warnings!: majour charachter death. mourning and mentions of murnder. cursing, extreme angst aswell...

good ending this time - the after math of janus loosing his other half. he gains more than he could have wished for-

Forgiveness? Can you imagine?

Janus stared blankly around his room. The walls were grey and reversed coloured sunflowers sat growing from the cracks lining the floor. those were just a few things the sides were barely getting used to. things…had not been the same since that day only a month ago now.

Only the dark sides had known Theodore… the others had only known him for a single day. Thomas hadn’t even met the other… and they hadn’t even brought up what had happened for Janus to completely shut off.

Logan sat next to Janus, the other staring blankly at the wall of the room. Not paying any mind to the logical side… and Logan looked on with such pain. his husband was mourning. But why did it feel like Janus had gone with him in that moment. A husk of who he previously had been

He wondered if Janus would be smiling if Logan had been paying attention. That if Logan had noticed wrath only a couple seconds sooner… would Theodore still be alive? if he had been in Theodore’s place…would he smile knowing his brother was alive. “I love you…” Logan whispered as he rested his head on the other, who seemingly didn’t even notice. Logan felt his lip quiver at the lack of response… he knew that the other was mourning. But he wished that he didn’t shut himself down like this. It hurt to watch him deteriorate like this.

Three soft knocks alerted Logan to the fact someone was at the door. But before he could say anything. The door creaked open. A startled Patton stood at the door looking in with worry and confusion laced in his eyes.

“Logan… you’ll want to see this.” Patton said shakily, “you too Janus.” Janus stared at Patton blankly before nodding. Logan wondered if it was because he could tell Patton was retaining information from them.

“I um… just want to warn you. We have no idea how this happened…” he motioned for them to follow.

Logan kept an eye on Janus as they made their way down the stairs. But they both stopped mid-way down as they heard the voices. small, high pitched like giggles.

For the first time in a month Janus seemed to slightly snap out of his trance. “what?” Janus whispered, barely audible to the other. Logan had to pick up his pace as he watched the other speed up to catch up with Patton.

They arrived in the commons to see three small children. And three very distressed older sides. Virgil had hidden himself up on top of a bookshelf. roman and Remus were seemingly looking at the small children with absolute confusion and wariness.

“who… are they?” Logan asked. Patton only gestured for them to go forwards. Remus smiled as he watched Janus move forwards. Happy the other was feeling fractionally better, even if this was a minor distraction.

One of the children had ruffled hair, wild as can be. His orange rain jacket was tied to his waist revealing a blank white top. He looked around ten. the next looked only seven or eight. His hair was almost platinum white save for a small brown streak in his hair. Almost opposite to Remus’s. he wore a white skirt and light grey top.

The smallest startled Janus gravely. A six-year-old. His hair went down to his shoulders. A pink carnation hair pin keeping his har out of his face. he wore the same as orange. The almost burnt orange was replaced by a pastel pink.

Janus felt himself give out under his own mental weight. Tears pooling in his eyes as he saw the small child.

The eldest child looked at him in surprise. Before surging forwards and spewing questions. Asking if he was alright. Saying he would smack anything that had hurt him. the second was nervous but slowly crept forwards wrapping Janus in a small hug. the youngest was confused. He had been fine with the other two. Was he scary? he didn’t think he could have been. He had been concerned. He felt the wave of sadness, nay… depression roll of the other as soon as he had walked into the room.

He hopped of his place on the seat and made his way closer. “you… you look so much like him.”

The youngest snapped his head over to the side who stood next to the cardigan clad one who had called himself Patton. “who?” he asked curiously. “his brother…” he muttered back.

The feeling seemed to click in his mind. The one crying was mourning.

It had taken ten minutes for Janus to calm down enough to finally come to grips that there were children in front of himself. “may I ask…your purposes?” Janus asked shakily, worried about what they’d say.

“I’m wrath, but you can just call me Orpheus!” orange cheered joyfully. “I’m…insanity, Samuel.” He said, looking at the other nervously. “sadness! nice to meet you! My name is atlas!” he said joyfully.

Janus smiled weakly at them all, “I’m deceit… you can call me Janus. Its nice to meet you all,” he smiled sadly, but at the same second… Logan caught a small glimpse of hope in the other’s eyes.

Forgiveness? Can you imagine?

The first time it had happened was on a Thursday afternoon when Janus had begun to get overwhelmed. Logan had been the first to spot the others sudden tension. Something said must have threw him off. He took Janus’s hand and hold it tightly. Getting a small squeeze in response.

Logan’s head snapped up as he saw roman, Remus and Patton getting louder over something that was said. and before he knew it a figure appeared in the corner of his eyes just as Virgil tumbled down a couple stairs.

“can you three shut up?” the side said, eyes blazing orange as he glared ‘maliciously’ (he was yet to get that down to an art).

“why is there a child in my house?” Thomas said almost immediately. “oh…” roman muttered, his face flushing red as he looked at the grumpy small child.

Logan let out a sigh as the child stepped over one of Virgil’s leg and walking over to Janus. Giving him a hug as best as he could. “Thomas, this is the new wrath,” Logan said slowly. “hi tommy,” the child muttered as he held the snake. “hello to you too…” Thomas said still completely in shock from the news.

“wait- what do you mean new wrath?” roman looked at Janus who had snapped out of his dazed state. He got a sharp nod from the other as he sunk down. “Janus…killed the old one.” “…what?” Thomas asked startled by what he had heard.

“in his defence,” Remus continued,” he did kill his brother.”

Thomas clearly confused by what he heard; the others told him what had happened. Start to finish. From when Patton first saw the staff to how the small sides appeared suddenly in the mindscape.

Janus followed Ophie towards their destination. The three of them had apparently been doing something in the far side since they had woken up on Monday that week. It was now a Saturday. he had been mildly confused to say the least. “hurry! We’ll be late,” the angry side said as he dragged the deceitful one behind himself. Janus let out a small chuckle.

They began to wonder down corridors. Each one familiar to Janus. A small ball of panic welling inside himself. “come on!” Orpheus ran ahead and opened a familiar pink and yellow marbled door, the paint looked fresh. No longer chipped. The snake head handle a shiny gold. the once dead plants that sat outside the room were blooming with life. He smiled at the door. It looked brand new. It looked the way it did when he had first been formed. He knew it wasn’t the same room however. That was still a few turns away.

But when he walked inside. It was different. But it had made him loose his breath. the walls were wooden, a soft grey carpet underfoot. A bright fire lit in a chimney. the beams up on the celling had fairy lights strung in pink and yellow. He felt his mind be thrown back to the past as he looked around.

A familiar lady came to mind. She was tall and always walked elegantly. Dressed like a librarian and smelled of wood and old books. Black leathery wings sat on her back. Her black hair showing grey streaks.

A teenager in his mind sat by the fire, warming his hands around a cup of coco.

“how did you do this,” he asked. memory after memory flooding in on him.

“roman had the original blueprints from years ago. With the help of Remus and Virgil, we were able to make a semi replica,” Ophie said. insanity smiled weakly from his place up on a beam. White feathery wings protruding from his back.

“do you like it?” atlas asked. “oh… there are no words to tell you how much I want to hug you three forever and never let go,” he sobbed. the three children smiled at the other with wide toothy happiness.

He got the three of them to sit down by the fire as he made some coco. Memorising her recipe had been simple. And he had never forgotten. he chuckled as he remembered Patton begging him near last Christmas for the recipe.

“mom! Logan’s here!” a voice yelled loudly. Janus seemed to freeze in his spot, what had just been said? Did they really? He placed a cup down gently on the counter. A small smile grazing his lips. if that’s how they saw him. Then he would try his best.

He picked up another cup from a coubard and poured some hot coco into it, knowing Logan would want some.

He picked up the tray of cups and made his way into the room. Insanity blushing madly into his hands as the other two giggled next to him. Logan looking at them fondly with a stunning smile on his face.

“where’s Remus?” he asked as Logan looked up to him. “cleaning up the last of the explanation with Patton,” he smiled as he took a cup from the tray.

Insanity looked between the two of them with a small smile. He knew that the three married people that had taken him under their wings, both literally and metaphorical, loved each other with a burning passion. One that couldn’t be denied by anyone or anything.

“so, is this where you grew up?” Logan asked as he looked around the room, “its beautiful. Stunning even,”

“yeah. I grew up with the dragon which raising me and…well. This was how her tower used to look,” Janus said, as if he were going down memory lane.

“hey you five guess what- holy fuck!” Remus said as he looked around the room, “it’s a fucking replica!” he yelled, mouth agape. “language!” Janus scolded playfully.

“you little shits actually did it…” he chuckled. “I thought you helped?” Logan said. “yeah, I showed pictures of the place from my younger more devious years,” he grinned, “but this is all them,” he spread his arms out and gestured everywhere.

“our sons are special? Aren’t they?” Janus said smirking as he took a sip from his cup. the three small sides looked at him with wide eyes. “our sons really are,” Remus grinned. “each one of them,” Logan added on.

Orpheus tried to speak. But his words were caught in his throat. atlas looked at them with stars in his eyes. insanity didn’t say anything before bursting int tears and running to Remus and hugging his legs tightly.

Janus could tell you lots of things at that moment. But the first thing that would always come to mind was that he did feel torn without his brother. But in that moment… for the first time in forever? He felt whole. the family he had forged laid in front of him. Love bursting out of the seams.

He didn’t know if he would trade it for anything.

If you see him in the street, walking by her Side,

Janus laid on the soft carpet grumpily. His children curled up on the sofa on top of Logan whilst Remus was cooking in the small kitchen.

They had practically moved into the tower after its creation. the other two hadn’t minded much. still seeing them on a daily basis. But for the first time in years they were having a Christmas in his home.

He rolled over onto his back and sighed. “I’m going to go into the imagination for a while,” Janus said as he stood up. “are you sure? In the middle of shedding?” Orpheus asked concerned. “yeah, I’m going to visit Theodore and your grandmother,” he said ruffling Orpheus’s hair.

The walk had been daunting and gruelling in his mind. This wasn’t the first time he wouldn’t have Theodore there for Christmas. But he knew there would be no other times. when he had disappeared. Sure, he was gone for a while, but at any point he could have returned.

But he was dead now. There was no other time. No more banter I the morning nor was there going to be the other to wake up to. And that had hit him hard that morning when he had almost said his name. “good morning Theo- “ he had said as he woke up in his bed. Looking over to see an empty spot.

Janus shook his head, banishing the thought for the time being and making his way through the mirror. the land was thick with white snow. Un spoken laughter rung in the air. imaginary forts of snow and twine sat abandoned in the snow. he tracked his way forwards. The snow crunching under his feet, the vapour of his breaths becoming frozen with every exhaled breath.

Ten minuets later and there he was. Standing in front of a gravestone placed in front o snow buried ruins.

“of all things… I never thought he would die so young,” a silky voice spoke from behind him, “but I knew deep down he would die protecting you my small hatchling.”

He laid down the fresh carnation crown on top of the pristine grave. he took a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he turned around. “open your eyes, I won’t disappear my child,” she chuckled weakly.

He did as he was told. He became breathless as he looked onwards. Everything inside him Turing off.

“mom?” he said before running forwards and wrapping the woman with a tight embrace. “I’m here my child. I’m here…” she said reassuringly as the other held on tightly. “I thought you died?” “no… I had managed to escape. My how handsome you look!” she crooned.

He laughed at her antics. “you and I have a lot to discuss,” she said.

Janus turned to the grave and let out a sigh. He could have sworn he saw a figure sitting on top. A warm smile on their face, waving happily at him. another one stood behind, grinning, burning amber eyes staring at Janus with such pride. a figure held the oranges hand. White silvery hair tied up into a bun. Eye filled with joy.

He knew they were waiting for him. But he knew they would wait as long as he needed. They would be angry if he arrived so soon. he gave a wave back, letting a tear pour from his eye. he blinked. And the figures were gone.

The two continued talking as they passed through the mirror, Janus telling his mother about his two husbands. Her saying something along the lines of ‘I knew you fell for him!’

They made their way down the halls, stories and laughter ringing in the air. “we best hurry, atlas gets nervous when I’m gone for too long,” “atlas? But that your shared name?” she said startled. “it used to be. But I’m thinking you’d like to meet your grandchildren,” he laughed, her eyes lighting up with sparks of her youth.

Atlas and the dragon which had gotten on like a matchstick on fire. Insanity was marvelled by her wings, so had Logan. Virgil and Remus had almost broken-down crying upon seeing her alive and well. Patton and Logan had been introduced along with the ‘terrible trio’ as they had begun to call themselves.

He used to hate celebrating Christmas only three years ago… now here he was, sitting in the middle of a family gathering with the smell of hot chocolate and gingerbread hanging in the air.

A Christmas tree that reached the celling took its normal place in the room. three stockings hung on the fireplace, filled to the brim with small things yet to be opened. It was the morning after all. presents were the last thing to be done.

“merry Christmas Theodore,” he whispered under his breath as he looked around the room.

talking by her side, have pity

Forty-five? Janus thought… that’s how old he was today. A warm smile on his face. the feeling inside him had grown slowly over the years. But today, he knew it was time much to his dismay.

It was time to join the others. his door opened as Remus came in, his stubble making him laugh as Logan rested his head in the crook of his neck. “how are you today sunflower?” he asked silently. “its time to go,” he muttered.

He felt the other shaking in his embrace. Wet tears dripping onto his shoulder. “oh sweetheart,” Janus said as he wrapped his arms around the other, “it’s okay,” he smiled.

“its not, todays the last day I see you before I won’t get to again,” he sobbed.

They held each other for a while longer. Remus shaking in his arms. He had been with him since that day Virgil had left. A small part of him felt like he was betraying him. He was leaving him here. But… he wouldn’t be alone. He had Logan and the others.

Remus let out a shaky breath and held Janus’s hand tightly, “come on then sunflower, let’s go.”

Thomas had been surprised none the less to see two of his sides appear so suddenly. especially when he saw tear tracks on Remus. “is everything okay? Did you get into a fight with one of the others?” he asked hastily. “no…” Remus said quietly, sending shivers up Thomas’s spine. he sounded so broken. “what’s wrong then?” he asked curiously. “I…came to say goodbye Thomas,” Janus said looking at the other, “my time here is up I’m afraid.”

Thomas looked at Remus who looked ready to burst into another round of tears and surged forwards. Wrapping his arms around his two sides.

“I can’t lose you,” Thomas whispered. “deaths a part of life Thomas, sometimes people leave sooner than you’d like to think,” Janus said, wiping a tear of his hosts cheek.

They talked for an hour or so, getting in their final goodbyes. Thomas let Janus film his goodbye to the sander’s fandom. Explaining they wouldn’t be seeing him anymore. He hoped they’d understand.

Then. He looked at Thomas one last time. Tears pouring down Thomas’s face as he watched his side sink out.

They went on to gather the side’s in the commons. “the last time we gathered like this pop was when Patton stole the last cookie,” atlas said fidgeting with his scarf, “this better be a good reason.”

“I do,” Janus said looking around the room, “my time… has come to an end. After today, I shall cease to exist,” he said.

The others looked at him before laughing. Janus looked at them with weary eyes and a sad smile. One by one. They realised this wasn’t a joke as Remus broke down into tears.

Logan stood up and threw himself on the snake. His breath hitching in his throat. the children, now teens, stared at their mother with nothing but grief.

No one spoke a word. “if this is…your final day. Then let’s do something that will make this day go out with a bang,” Samuel said, “how long do you have?” “at most eight hours,” Janus smiled as he held his husbands.

And that’s exactly what they did. They played games, watched a movie and went on a hike. Eating cake and junk food as they did so. they laughed and cried all day. Janus had never felt more love in his life than that day. and soon, the sun was down over the horizon, the moon peaking in the sky.

They made their way to one last destination. a pristine grave with a fresh pink carnation crown. And there standing and sitting in their places were his old family. One that had been waiting for him for years. “come on,” Theodore said holding out a hand, “lets go baby brother,” a grin growing on his face.

Janus felt tears fall down his face at his brother voice. “you’ve been brave enough, my snake,” wrath said holding out his hand. “you’ve made us so proud my child,” insanity spoke.

Janus turned around to look at the sides. They looked at him with sad smiles. Logan nodded to Janus. “go, we’ll be okay, you’ve been strong enough. Time for you to rest,” Logan said, trying to keep his smile on his face. “wait for us?” Remus said, not able to look at the other.

“I will,” Janus shuddered. he turned around to face the grave. Theodore stood up, letting his hands fall to his sides.

With the picture of his family safe and sound imprinted in his memory, he held out his hand. Theodore taking his.

The sides all went eyes wide as they saw the feint outline of the old side. A small smile on their faces as they realised, he would be in perfect hands.

A yellow light emanated from Janus, small pieces floating into the darkening sky. Slowly a mix of colours joined in.

“where do you think hes going?” atlas asked, tears pouring from his eyes.

They are going through the unimaginable

As the light reached the sky, small flecks of pink, orange and white joined the yellow as it floated away in the breeze.

“he’s going home,” Logan said.

#janus angst #logan angst #remus angst #logan sanders #Janus sanders #remus sanders #Virgil sanders #patton sanders #Roman sanders #thomas sanders #dragon witch #sander sides #majour charachter death #angst angst #i cried again.#i slapped the angst button too hard again. fuck.#:)#sorry

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pastel-galaxy · 4 years

Text

Jealous (Chenle X Reader)

(A/N: This was a request but I lost the anon who sent it in. I'm sorry anon, I hope you're still somewhat happy with this : (

Tags: A tiny bit of angst, tbh it was supposed to be more angsty but I failed I'm sorry anon :( ; fluff

Whilst waking up alone on a gloomy Saturday morning, you originally didn't plan on going out in the depressing weather today. Being the homebody you are, the idea of sitting inside all day, cuddled up on the couch with your favorite throw blanket, and your current favorite anime series playing on the tv seemed like a perfect way to spend your day. However, just as you were in the middle of making a cup of steaming coffee, the sound of your phone ringing in the living room interrupted your actions. Quickly, you raced to the living room and picked up the device, smiling softly as you saw the cute contact name you had for your boyfriend displayed across the screen.

"Hello?" You sing-songed into the speaker after pressing the answer button.

"Hey baby~" Chenle sang back, giggling right after. You could faintly hear the voices of other members talking in the background, and of course Chenle whispering at them to 'shut up.'

"What brings you to call me this early in the morning?" You ask as you return to the kitchen to finish pouring sugar into your coffee. Chenle audibly pouts on through the phone.

"Can't I call my girlfriend early in the morning?" He says cutely, to which you reply with a chuckle.

"Of course you can. It's just very unlike you." You reason before tossing the spoon you mixed your coffee with into the sink, cringing at the loud crashing noise it made.

"True." Chenle replied, the pout no longer in his voice.

"I just had to ask you something." He clarifies.

You pause, your mug inches away from your lips, confused as to what was so important that he had to call you at 9 in the morning. Usually he would wait until atleast early afternoon to call you, being as there was less of a chance of one of the dreamies listening in and teasing him later on. So for him to call you this early with a question, it must be something pretty urgent.

"What is it?" You ask.

"Umm..so the members have decided that they want to go out to eat tonight, and they wouldn't stop bugging me until I agreed to ask you to go..." He trails off, obviously flustered over his request. Your heart began to slightly pick up speed, immediately nervous. Of course, though, how could you say no?

"Yeah, sure. I'll come. Umm, what time? Should I dress up?" You questioned, taking your coffee to your room to start going through potential outfits for later that night. You wanted to make a good impression, but you didn't want to come off too strong either.

"No no!" Chenle's laugh comes through the phone, which now layed atop your bed on speaker while you sifted through your closet. You turned towards it, as if he could see you. Which of course, was not true.

"Just dress like you normally do. We're all going casual, anyway. You don't need to get all dolled up to be pretty, love." He smiles, and you blush subtly at that last comment, suddenly glad he couldn't see you.

You eventually agreed to dress casually (somewhat casually. It was your first time meeting his members after all.), and hung up the call so you could prepare. You left your room in favor of finishing your coffee on the couch with your throw blankets like you had originally planned for that day, watching an episode or two of your show before going to get ready.

It was about 4:30 p.m when Chenle had a driver come to pick you up. Opening the back door, you were met with your bofriend's handsome face, smiling and all. You pouted as his eyes scanned you up and down, analyzing your outfit and snickering to himself.

"I thought I told you to dress casually?" He raised his eyebrow, helping you into the car by holding your hand.

"I did!" You tried to defend yourself, but you knew he was right. You weren't exactly casual, but you weren't over dressed either. Unless you counted a white button up with flared, flowing sleeves, high-waisted skinny jeans, and black boots with short heels over dressed... But it wasn't like you were about to wear a t-shirt and sweats to your first meeting with the rest of dream. That would be horrible first impression-esque.

It wasn't a long ride to the small sit-in restaurant, but it was definitely a nerve-wracking one. With each turn of a street, the butterflies in your stomach seemed to multiply. Luckily, once you got out, Chenle reassured you there was nothing to worry about with a simple kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of your hand. And with that, you both walked in, eager to see the awaiting faces already sitting at the assigned table.

Once all of you caught each others eye, you immediately bowed politely, wearing your best smile and bowing some more after you and Chenle were seated next to each other. The others were really well-mannered as well, all of them greeting you with smiles and Haechan and Jeno even reached over to shake your hand. They were all just as handsome in real life as they were on screen, if not more. Which didn't really surprise you, seeing as Chenle was a thousand times more appealing in person than on screen.

From then on, the night had been going by smoothly. You had all eaten a vast amount, and were now just talking amongst each other, a subtle snacking here and there. And, while you had been getting along just fine with all of the members, you and Jeno seemed to had hit it off. Besides the occasional chip in with one of the other members jokes, you had been making the most small talk with Jeno alone, all night. Of course, you hadn't really been ignoring your boyfriend completely. Your hand had remained in his ever since the both of you had finished eating. But you would be lying if you said you had given him most of your attention thus far.

Chenle had gotten pretty quiet over the past forty minutes, but of course you just took it as him being a little tired. He sometimes got that way after eating a sizeable meal. However, as the time came for you to say your goodbyes with everyone, and Jeno reached out to give you a hug, Chenle refused to let go of your hand, only tightening his grip when you tried to let go. You were confused, but just opted to give Jeno a one armed hug instead. When you looked back at your boyfriend after pulling away from his bandmate, he refused to even meet your eyes. He said his goodbyes, informing them that he would see them back at the dorm later on, and proceeded to drag you out of the restaurant and into his awaiting ride.

The ride back to your house was silent, save for the song playing softly on the radio in the front seat. Even when you gently called out for the boy beside you, he only responded with a cold face, hand squeezing yours just a little more. You eventually decided to just sit back and wait until you got home to confront him about his sudden attitude. And when the car finally did pull up to your front door, Chenle just looked at you expectantly. You took the hint and quickly got out of the car, walking to your front door with him close behind. He must have told the driver to wait, because the headlights to the car suddenly stopped illuminating the front of your house.

You could feel Chenle's eyes on you while you hurried to open the door and get inside, slipping your shoes off by the door once accomplished. The door clicked shut behind your visitor, him slipping his own shoes off as well, but instead of following you to your living room, he simply stood still by the door. Watching you.

"What's wrong? You've were acting weird before we even left the restaurant." You pouted, annoyed with your boyfriends unexplained change in mood. He huffed, a pout of his own forming discreetly on his soft, pink lips.

"I'm glad you hit it off well with my boys...I think they really liked you." He muttered, confusing you. If he was happy with the outcome of your meeting, why was he being like this. You were going to question his behavior, until he spoke again.

"Especially Jeno." And with that, everything seemed to fall into place. He was jealous. How didn't you figure that out sooner? You couldn't help the giggle that fell from your lips, causing Chenle to snap his head up to your direction.

"It's not funny!" He exclaimed childishly, even stomping his foot a bit, ears glowing a cute shade of red. At this, you decided to hold your laugh, walking towards him and wrapping your arms around his torso. Of course, he refused to hug you back, looking down at you with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes resembling that of a sad puppy.

"Baby," You started, leaning up to place a kiss on his hanging bottom lip. His lips slightly curled up at that, but he was quick to force them back down into a cute frown.

"I was just being nice. Yes, me and Jeno did hit it off, but that's what you brought me for, remember? You were ready for me to meet your members, and I wanted to get along with them well. But I didn't want to interrupt the conversations between the other members, so when Jeno started chatting with me, I was more than happy to take part rather than just sit there and be shy all night." You explained softly, slipping your arms around his shoulders and hooking them around his neck.

"And as for the hug," You layed your head on Chenle's shoulder, feeling a bit of relief when his arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

"He reached out first, and I didn't want to be rude. But even so, you shouldn't be this jealous over a few friendly interactions with one of your members. I love you, and only you. And you know that. Plus, do you really think I would be as petty as to be touchy-feely with one of your best friends in spite of you? Use your brain, baby." You chuckled as his cheeks began to heat up in embarrassment. He thought for a moment, then sighed, nodding to himself, before puckering his lips in a silent request for a kiss.

Of course, you complied, pressing a long, gentle kiss on his lips before pulling away and pecking his cheek.

"Don't you have to go back home?" You questioned, glancing out the window at the escort car that was still sitting in your dark driveway. Chenle nodded, following your gaze outside.

"I do...unless.." He trails off, looking at you, a cheeky smile on his face.

"..you let me stay the night?" He gives his best puppy eyes, even more intense than the ones from earlier. You sigh, looking back at the car outside.

"Sure. But what about guy outside my house..and the boys? You said you were going to be home later." You reasoned, looking at him with raised eyebrows. He gave you a look, one that basically embodied the phrase "So what?"

"I can just tell him to go home, and text the members that I won't be home tonight." He states simply, grinning ear to ear. True, you thought, sparing one last glance at the car outside before pulling away from your boyfriend to go and prepare for a shower.

"Fine. But you gotta pick the movie tonight. Imma go take a shower." You call out over your shoulder, rolling your eyes and not even bothering to answer when he jokingly asks if he could join. As you enter your room, you hear him talking to his driver over the phone, telling him that he'll be staying the night before hanging up. You smile to yourself, gathering your clothes and entering your bathroom.

As soon as you close the door, a vibration comes from your back pocket. You pull your phone out to once again be faced with you boyfriends contact display. Muttering to yourself how annoying he was, jokingly, of course, you answered the call.

"What do you want, bighead?" You asked in a falsely annoyed voice.

"Just wanted to talk some more, that's all." The grin he wore just a few feet away while sitting on your living room couch came through his voice. "Make sure you're not talking to another guy behind my back."

You laughed aloud at this, shaking your head.

"Goodbye, Zhong Chenle." You said and hung up the call. The only thing you heard after that was a faint "Hey!" from the living room before you turned the shower on full blast.

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veeeffvee · 4 years

Text

Static (a Ghost and Pals fanfiction)

Word Count: 3187

Summary: While watching TV alone and staying awake far too late at night, you accidentally stumble upon a TV show that you have never seen before. Unbeknownst to you, this particular TV show would entail much more than mere entertainment. [A COLORBARS-inspired fanfic, set in an AU that has almost nothing to do with Communications Case 2 aside from Kennith being a major character.]

A/N: Here’s to loving life COLORBARS’ anniversary! This is yet another fanfic that I wrote on a whim, but unlike COLOR-TV, this one will stay a oneshot. Now, a couple of things to keep in mind are that 1) this isn’t COLOR-TV related, and 2) this is a reader-insert fanfic. Also, you know how COLORBARS and BROADCAST ILLUSION have two different stories but they both feature Kennith? Well, think of this AU as my interpretation of COLORBARS if it had a story completely different from Communications Case 2. That’s all I’ll say about the fanfic for now, though. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy my newest addition to my collection of AU Kenniths: Kennith the Static Ghost!

It was a Saturday night, and you were alone in the house.

It wasn’t as exciting as it sounded. Sure, you had access to all of the food in the house, you could do stupid dances without anyone watching, and you were free to scream your lungs out to whatever music you listened to. But even you got tired after dark. Although you had exhausted all of your energy, the last thing that you wanted to do was nothing, so you entertained yourself in the remaining hours of the day watching TV.

Unfortunately, you were quite the insomniac. Nighttime turned to midnight, and midnight slowly crept into the early morning. A glance at the clock told you that it was about 1:55 A.M.

You groaned. Curse these awful, depressing thoughts, swirling about your mind. They made it hard to sleep, you told yourself. That, coupled with anxiety, didn’t exactly help matters much either. Maybe you should have exhausted yourself while you still could. At least then you would have no choice but to sleep. 20/20 hindsight, really.

Wrapped up in a blanket and curled up on your bedroom floor, you stared numbly at your TV screen. You weren’t really paying attention to the show (you thought it was some kind of old sitcom?), but it was nice to look at something instead of the empty darkness of your room. Not that you were afraid of the dark, but you enjoyed the mild entertainment, even though your mind was wandering off somewhere else.

The moment that the clock turned to 2 A.M., your TV screen suddenly filled with static.

You sat up straight in alarm. What happened? Did something mess up the signal or something? You couldn’t see outside right now, but you could have sworn that there wasn’t a storm or anything going on.

You hardly had time to ponder the cause of the disruption before the static flickered out, revealing what appeared to be an entirely new TV show.

Surrounded in a pastel yellow background, a teenage boy stood with his arms spread out and poised. The boy had short peach-colored hair and pale skin. His eyes were salmon-colored, or at least his right one was. His left eye was obscured by his hair. He wore a white sleeveless shirt with yellow, green, and purple sectioned off at the top, green accents on the collar and placket, and yellow buttons. He also wore a pair of shorts that seemed to be divided with two different patterns for each leg: pink with white polka dots on the right leg, and plain blue on the left leg. The boy had his left hand open, palm side facing up. Meanwhile, his right hand held a microphone, the wire of which circled him and appeared to float weightlessly around him.

With a smile, the boy announced, “Hello everyone, and welcome to C-O-L-O-R! I’m your host, Kennith Simmons!” After he spoke, theme music began playing through the speakers.

You stared blankly at the screen. What the hell was this? You’ve never heard of this show before. Not that you watch TV this late at night normally, but you should have seen or heard about it somehow in passing. Confused but intrigued, you decided to stay up a little bit longer to watch the show.

After his initial greeting, this “Kennith” character went on to explain the type of show that he hosted, which was in his words: “basically a variety show.” And a variety show it was, as he introduced a cast of several guests onto the show, all just as colorful and bright as he was. They weren’t famous people, at least not any that you would recognize. The cast then proceeded to perform several challenges, ranging from baking, to building, to teamwork-based games—all of which roused cheering and applause from an off-camera audience. Although he was the host of the show, Kennith regularly participated in each of the challenges, even though there would be no point if he were to win. But he looked like he was having fun.

You blinked. They all looked like they were having fun. All of the cast members were happy and smiling, and were never even discouraged whenever they lost a challenge.

Vaguely, you wished that you could be that happy, and have that much fun. It looked like they were all having the time of their lives on this show.

The show continued to run for about an hour, and towards the end of it, your eyelids were starting to droop. It looked like you were finally worn out, all thanks to watching this exciting TV show. Maybe now you could finally fall asleep. That seemed nice. You liked sleeping.

“Hey there!”

It wasn’t like staying up was particularly healthy, either. You were probably going to wake up tomorrow in a daze. Not only that, but your parents would probably yell at you for waking up in the afternoon again. As annoying as it was, you supposed that it was starting to become a habit.

“Hello?? Yoo-hoo!”

Your eyes slowly began to close. You were tired. You wanted to sleep. Finally, after all this time, you could—

“HEY!! Wake up sleepyhead, I’m talking to you!”

You jolted awake, eyes darting to the TV screen. There, Kennith stood with his hands on his hips, looking impatient and staring directly at you.

After a moment, you answered, “...Me?”

Kennith threw his hands up in the air. “Yes, you! Geez, I’ve only been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes!” he exclaimed, clearly aggravated.

You stared blearily at him. “Why?”

“Uh, ‘cause you’re falling asleep in the middle of my show? It’s kinda rude,” Kennith continued, borderline yelling. “I put a lot of time and effort into running C-O-L-O-R, so I don’t appreciate it when my audience is drifting off on me!”

You were at a loss. “...I’m sorry?”

“You better be!” Kennith huffed, folding his arms. Somehow, he wasn’t tangled up in his microphone’s wire. “I expect an apology. If you don’t like my show, you could either say so or just change the channel, not ignore me to my face!”

Your gaze then wandered to the TV remote beside you. You reached for it.

Kennith noticed this. “Wait wait wait—don’t do that! I was kidding! I was kidding!”

You stopped, looking expectantly at Kennith.

Kennith forced out a laugh, holding his hands up defensively. “Y-Yeah, it was just, just a joke! Yes, we love jokes here on C-O-L-O-R. And that was one of them! So... please don’t change the channel,” he pleaded.

“Okay.” You gingerly leaned back, away from the remote. “I won’t.”

“Really? Oh, thank you so much!” Kennith beamed, switching his attitude at breakneck speed. “You won’t regret this, dear viewer, I promise! Say, what’s your name anyway?”

You didn't answer.

“...Not much of a talker, huh? That’s okay. I’ll do most of the talking.” He curiously leaned forward, supporting himself with his hands on his knees. “So! How are things?”

“...Good.”

Kennith hummed thoughtfully. “Hmm, really?”

You furrowed your brow. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you repeated. Why was he so persistent?

Kennith narrowed his visible eye skeptically, still wearing a smile. “Are you absolutely sure?”

You frowned, narrowing your eyes as well. However, unlike Kennith, your expression was more of a glare.

Kennith continued, “Are you sure you’re sure?”

“I’m gonna turn off the TV.”

“Hey!” Kennith put his hands up in a placating gesture. “I’m just asking! Nothing wrong with asking, right?”

“Why do you care?” you asked, your tone much more biting than you meant it to be. But hey, Kennith was being annoying right now, so who could blame you?

Kennith made a grand gesture as he put a hand to his chest. “Oh, I care about the well-being of all my audience members! My audience’s pain is my pain!” He leaned forward again, this time to the point where he was about to tip over. “Sooo, what’s up?”

You stared at Kennith suspiciously for a moment before curtly replying, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You knew that your answer made you sound like an angsty teen. And maybe you were one. But that didn’t mean that you felt like sharing your problems with this… thing.

Kennith hummed thoughtfully again. “Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, because you’re a TV character?” you snapped. “Because you’re a complete stranger? Because all of this is insane?” You held a hand to your forehead, exasperated beyond belief. “God, I’m either going crazy or this is some kind of dream…”

Kennith fell silent, his smile finally dropping. He looked at you with a blank expression, and honestly, it was more unnerving than everything else. You and him held eye contact for a while, and still, Kennith chose not to say anything.

Despite yourself, you gulped. Did you anger him somehow? What were the repercussions of that? You had no idea what to expect.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kennith spoke.

“Mind if I come in?”

You didn’t have time to ask what that meant, and Kennith didn’t leave you any room to answer. As quickly as he had asked his question, Kennith reached through the TV screen, his hand moving through it as if it wasn’t even there. He then held his other arm out, and after getting a good grip on the frame of your TV, he hefted himself up and essentially threw himself through the screen, landing on your bedroom floor with a loud thump.

Naturally, you screamed in horror and retreated to the back wall of your room. Kennith looked just as bright and colorful as he did on TV, almost appearing to glow in the darkness of the bedroom. However, the most unnerving part was that he was slightly transparent.

After groaning in pain for a good few seconds because of his rough landing, Kennith jumped to his feet and rushed over to you, speaking in a hushed tone. Despite everything, he looked genuinely worried. “Don’t panic, it’s okay! This is totally normal!”

You were hysterical, leaning as far away from Kennith as possible. “No, it’s not! Y-You just climbed out of my TV!”

“I know.” Kennith grinned. “Cool, right?”

“No! You can’t just—”

“Hey hey hey, just calm down, alright?” Kennith went on, acting as if nothing were wrong. “It’s not like I’m gonna hurt you.”

“I don’t know that,” you protested, continuing to glare at him.

Kennith rolled his eyes (or, at least, the one eye that you could see). He slowly backed away from you with his hands up, trying his best to appear harmless. “Well, I’m not. I just wanna talk.”

“Talk?” you echoed incredulously. “We were talking just now!”

“Yeah, but it was really one-sided. I figured that if I was up-close and personal, you would open up more!” Kennith declared, clapping his hands together. “So! Is it working? Feel like talking yet?”

You paused. What the actual, literal fuck is wrong with this guy.

Instead of answering his question, you asked, “Why me?”

“Hm?”

“Why talk to me of all people?” you clarified.

Kennith appeared to consider this, as he rocked on his heels in thought. He tilted his head before answering, “I see every single person in my audience at all times during the broadcast. You, of all people, seemed a little off. So, I got concerned.”

That explanation only made you more confused. “How did I seem ‘a little off?’” you asked.

Kennith’s expression suddenly turned sympathetic. “Well, when you’ve seen enough faces, it’s easier to tell which ones are happy, and which ones are sad.”

You fell silent again.

In some kind of miracle, Kennith finally sensed your discomfort. “...Okay, you don’t have to talk about it. I just thought I’d offer,” he said before sighing in disappointment.

Kennith stopped talking after that. It felt like all energy had left your body after what Kennith had said, and so you slid down the wall you were leaning against in order to sit on the floor. After taking a few cautious steps towards you, Kennith copied your actions, kneeling down to sit beside you. You didn’t protest at this.

This is much better than talking, you thought. This mutual silence. With you, curled up comfortably in a blanket, and Kennith, patiently sitting next to you, finally and thankfully quiet.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. After a long while, Kennith said, “Hey, have you ever wanted to be on TV?”

You didn’t answer. It had never occurred to you whether or not you wanted to be on TV, and it certainly didn’t occur to you now. The question seemed so out-of-the-blue that it kind of threw you for a loop. So, you were left unable to say anything.

Kennith waited for a response, but he didn’t react when he didn’t receive one. Instead, he continued, “I think it would be really fun if you were a part of the show. C-O-L-O-R is always looking for new cast members! And hey, it might even cheer you up!” he suggested.

The idea of you starring on a TV show seemed so far away from you that you could hardly wrap your head around it. But you entertained the thought anyway, deciding that you might as well play along with all of this. “Thanks, but… I don’t think I’m really cut out for TV. I’m not that great at anything,” you muttered.

Kennith scoffed. “Do you think any of the guests on the show are special? Well, guess what: they’re not! They’re all just regular people who happen to be fans of the show! Really, all you have to do is show up and participate,” he encouraged.

You paused again. This sounded too good to be true. “How would you even bring me there?” you asked tentatively.

Kennith smiled. “Same way I got here. Through the TV.”

You turned and stared at Kennith like he had two heads.

Kennith couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. “Oh, come on, it’s not that weird! I’m sure you can fit through the TV!”

“It’s not that,” you said, and then you reconsidered it. “...Well, that is one thing I’m worried about, but—” you shook your head, “—this is just. Crazy. I don’t even—okay, will I be able to come back? Preferably before morning?”

Even though this situation was nothing short of bizarre, you had to set some things straight.

Kennith grinned. You guessed that it was because he seemed to be convincing you. “Why, of course! I can bring you back whenever you want!”

“Then…”

You thought it over for a moment, and then decided that this couldn't be real. It was impossible. Talking to a TV character, having them walk right into the real world, and then having the chance to enter theirs? This had to be a dream or… something. Surely this was all fake.

So, you reasoned, there’s no harm in this. There’s nothing to lose.

You sighed. “...Okay, fine, sure. Let’s do it,” you replied with hardly any enthusiasm.

Kennith jumped up from his seat, nearly knocking you over. “Oh, you won’t regret this, dear viewer! This’ll be so much fun, I promise!”

He offered a hand to help you up, and you took it. Strangely enough, his hand felt warm and fleshy, like a human being's, despite his unnatural appearance. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t freak you out just like everything else.

Kennith then led you over to your TV, and without further ado, he climbed through it headfirst and fell to the floor at the other side of the screen, off-camera. He just as quickly stood up and flashed you a smile that was just as bright and lively as the yellow background behind him. “Okay, now it’s your turn!”

Understandably, you hesitated. After all, you've never climbed through a TV before. You gingerly pressed your fingers to the screen, and gasped as they phased right through the clear plastic. Feeling bolder, you then experimentally stuck your arm into it, and sure enough, your arm went right through the screen as if you just reached into a window.

Yeah, this was definitely a dream. So fuck it.

After discarding the blanket on your shoulders onto the floor, you mimicked Kennith's actions, getting a good grip on the frame of the TV before climbing into it. Thankfully, you could fit through the screen. You quickly found yourself falling to a yellow floor, just like Kennith did, and you grunted in pain. From just a quick glance around, you saw that you were surrounded in what appeared to be a yellow void. There was no studio set, no equipment, and no audience. The TV from which you came from was only a square of static behind you, and it looked completely out of place, like a hole through the fabric of reality.

Kennith laughed as you got to your feet. "Yeah, that doesn't get any easier no matter how many times I do it. But how can you blame me? Everyone has different TVs, in all shapes and sizes!"

As he spoke, he took your hand and led you deeper into the yellow void. It was eerily quiet here, with you and Kennith's footsteps being the only noise aside from Kennith’s voice. You looked back, watching the square you crawled out of slowly get smaller and smaller.

"Right. But anyway, when does the show start?" you asked idly. Your screen was nothing but a dot in the distance now.

Kennith turned to you, looking confused. "Huh? What do you mean? It just ended.”

You blinked. "What?"

"Well, yeah, you think I'd just stop in the middle of a segment to tend to one person?” Kennith scoffed. “That's just bad showmanship."

You stared at him. "I thought you said I was going to be a part of the show."

"You are! Just not today's episode,” Kennith clarified. “Maybe not even tomorrow's episode. I don't know, there's a whole waiting list of people that want to be on the show, so..." he trailed off with a shrug.

"Wait." You stopped walking and yanked your arm back, nearly pulling Kennith along with it. "I'm not going to stay here waiting for my turn to be on the show. That’ll take way too long, and besides, you said that you were going to bring me back before morning."

"Ohh, did I?" Kennith asked, feigning innocence.

He paused. The two of you had a good staring contest for a minute.

Then he dropped the act. "...Actually, I guess I did. Yeah, okay. I said that I could bring you back at any time."

The expanse of yellow around you suddenly turned black, as if lights were switched off. The dot behind you—your distant TV screen—was the only source of light in the void. You couldn't see Kennith, but you could hear a grin in his voice.

"I never said that I would."

With that, the square of light disappeared, leaving you in pitch blackness.

#ghost and pals #colorbars #communications by ghost #fanfic

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crushedbyhyperbole · 4 years

Text

Beyond Broken - Chapter One

Summary: Thor struggles with his failure after losing The Infinity War to Thanos. He spirals into depression, leaving both The Avengers and his Asgardian kin behind. He is unable to cope with the scale of his loss so he seeks solitude in a small seaside town in Connecticut, where no one recognised him. There he meets a woman (Jess) who has also lost everything. Their connection leads to happiness but something looms on the horizon and threatens everything Thor holds dear. Just as night is to day, light follows darkness, but as the couple learns in an all-too-bitter twist of fate, darkness comes right back around again to finish the job.

Famdom: MCU, Thor, Avengers

Words: 30k WIP

Warnings: Survivor’s guilt, depression, self-loathing, angst, sexual content (explicit and fluffy), mild/hinted homophobia directed to secondary character, violence of the canon-typical variety, bit of stalking, and probably some bad language (as standard).

A/N: This is the first MCU fic I ever started writing, and I hope to do the characters justice. It’s an angsty tale with feels but it’s likely to have an unhappy ending, so you have been warned. There are spoilers for Endgame in here for those who still haven’t seen it, and eventually the story will come to be an alternate plot for Endgame. Once again, it’s going to be dark at the end, but there are other universes than these and this is but one of the fourteen million possible endings spoken of by Dr Strange in Infinity War ;)

For more chapters see my Thor Odinson Mobile Masterlist

The Life of Jessica Walker

It had been ten months to the day when a once happy-go-lucky girl lost her whole world. Jess Walker remembered that day as if it were only yesterday. Each day since had felt the same; hollow, broken, desperate. The emptiness was ravenous. It engulfed and ravaged, sapping all but the bleakest of emotion from her. Ten months without him.

Will Tanner had been the love of her life. He’d been with her through the loss of her father and then, soon after, the loss of her mother. They’d made a life together. Had a nice house in New London. Good jobs. Pet iguana. Holidays around the world. And an engagement ring with an open-ended shelf-life; they’d been married in every way other than the piece of paper that confirmed their status. Eight years of love and commitment lost in a finger snap.

She’d awoken that morning to the blaring ringer of the bedside telephone. Groggily she’d answered to a hysterical David, Will’s younger brother.

“Jess. It’s David. I need Will. Mom’s gone.”

Confused and still shrouded in the slovenliness of sleep, it took her a while to realise that David was saying that their mother had passed away.

“Oh my god!” She gasped, tears instantly springing to her eyes. Turning quickly on the bed to rouse Will she saw he was not there. “Hold on, he must be in the bathroom.” She said to David before calling for Will to come to the phone.

There was no response.

She shuffled out of bed quickly, taking the cordless phone with her out into the hall. The bathroom door was open and the light was off. None of the lights were on. Had Will stepped out for a walk or to get some breakfast takeaway. The clock said 9.15am. Shit! They were late for work.

“David, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to say.” Jess returned to their bedroom. Will’s suit hung on the wardrobe door where he’d put it the night before, ready for work. “He’s not here. Let me try his cell and call you back.”

David sobbed as she hung up without waiting on a reply.

Jess had been frantic after ringing Will’s personal and work phones to find them both in his briefcase. She’d scoured the counters and bedside units for a note he may have left. It was then that she noticed the dust. It was all over their bed, under the covers, swirling in the air as she moved the blankets.

What in God’s name was going on? Maybe Will had somehow heard the news of his mother and left in a hurry, but both sets of car keys were still on their hooks. Her panic increased.

It wasn’t until later, after an hour of stressing and crying, consoling David, speaking to friends and co-workers that she finally understood what had happened. There’d been some kind of alien attack and half of the population had been disintegrated. She didn’t know the ins and outs, she never kept up with the news because it was depressing but she turned the TV on now to see all channels reporting the horrors that had happened in the night.

Numb, and with the heavy lump of despair sitting in her chest, she stared but didn’t really see the TV as the news caster described the events.

They were saying the effect was world-wide, fifty percent of all life on earth, at random, all gone, turned to dust. And her William had been one, his mother too. Her friends and co-workers also, she’d not gotten responses from some, had they been vanished as well? And Iggy? She looked over to the large vivarium but that too was empty.

She sobbed again, even their pet was gone, she truly had nothing left of their life save material possessions and memories. She was alone.

Ten months on she still felt the pain of loss but she knew Will would not have wanted her to spin out in a downward cycle of despair and depression. In some ways the world had moved on, in others it was impossible to fully accept the catastrophic changes. Jess continued to work as a Dentist, she was lucky that the practice had not folded like so many other businesses, although she was just going through the motions each day. It was difficult to plug away day in day out when you knew life could be sucked away in the blink of an eye.

Ever since that first day, she’d been as supportive to David as possible. He took it very hard, losing mother and brother in the same day. It gave her peace to know that she could help them; David and William Sr. were the last ties she had to the life she’d thought she had secured. She’d found a purpose in this new world of broken things.

Jess finished at the practice and gathered her things to meet David. The sky was overburdened with ominous dark clouds and the air was thick with the tension of an oncoming storm. She walked the three blocks to the little coffee shop on Neptune where she and David met five days a week. He was waiting for her outside with a cup of her favourite tiramisu hot chocolate, a genuinely warm smile, a soft kiss on her cheek and a yappy Papillon called Daisy Duke.

“It’s nice to see the weather has changed.” She raised a sarcastic eyebrow, accepting the warmth of the paper cup in both hands. It had been weeks since she’d seen the sun. She sipped and sighed. “How are you?”

Today was Tuesday, the first day in her David support week. Sundays and Mondays she had to herself, but Tuesdays were usually his worst. They walked towards the park.

“Not good.” He shook his head, hunching his shoulders against the chill carried off the ocean by a strengthening wind. “Dad’s pretty demanding, I can’t deal with his disappointment. It’s like, even now, he can’t accept that his other son died and to treasure the one he has left. To him, the wrong son died. It’s crippling me, Jess. You don’t even see it! He acts differently when you’re there.”

“It’s hard for you both, you’ve lost so much.” She gave him a reassuring squeeze on the forearm. “Is he still going to that support group for survivors of Disintegration Day?”

“Yeah, he is.” David looked at the ground.

“Well that’s great! That should help him loads.” Jess beamed, her enthusiasm dropping away when she saw the look on his face. “Why do I get the feeling that it’s not though?”

They crossed the street to Ocean Beach Park where David let Daisy off her leash. The sky had darkened further with the downward progression of the obstructed sun and the thickening of the clouds. He kicked pebbles as they walked the paths of the park.

“I dunno, Jess.” David sighed, defeated. “He’s great when he’s getting ready to go out. Sunday afternoons are nice. He’s chipper, you know? Almost happy. He goes to group in the early evening and it’s like he’s how he used to be when mom…” He swallowed hard. “But then he comes home, sees me and it’s like he’s disgusted. Like maybe he knows. But I’ve been so careful. I dunno what to do anymore.”

She drew him into a hug and squeezed him tight. His arms tightened around her back as he sniffed into the shoulder of her jacket. Jess once thought, if she closed her eyes, it almost felt like holding Will again. After all, they were the same height and build, slim and lean. She knew then, just as she knew now, that she couldn’t ever go down that road, no matter how much she wanted to keep Will alive it could only be in her heart.

“It’s not you.” She crooned. “You’re only trying to be happy, David. No one can blame you for seeking something bright in times as dark as these.”

“I know.” He nodded, pulling away.

“You’ll feel better once you’ve blown off some steam and that hot man of yours.” She wiggled her eyebrows comically, grinning the goofiest smile she could muster.

Her reward was a genuinely abashed laugh that burst from him involuntarily. It both soothed and pained her heart. He reminded her so much of Will sometimes it nearly killed her.

“You’re terrible!” The blush suited him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and settled into a slow walk at her side. “So what’s new with you since I saw you on Saturday?”

“Oh nothing much, you know me. Same shit, different day.” It was easier for him if she didn’t burden him with her feelings. She knew he struggled enough with his own issues, and for the time being she was coping. The mantra I can do this chanted over and over in her head each morning seemed to work enough to get her moving, and once she had momentum it was easier to follow it through the day.

At seven o’clock on the dot his phone rang.

“Got to go.” He handed her the leash. Daisy was still sniffing around the shrubberies and grasses nearby. “I’ll meet you back at Neptune’s at ten?”

“Yep, the usual.” She offered him a weak smile.

“Thanks so much for continuing to do this, Jess. I dunno what I’d do without you.” He grinned and dashed off in the direction of amazing sex and short-lived happiness.

It wasn’t that Jess resented being David’s wingman, so to speak, or that he was essentially living a lie. She didn’t even mind that she’d put everything else in her life on hold to be his anchor, or that five days a week she was out in the cold being a dog-sitter. It was that he’d made no effort to help himself. No counselling, no psychiatrist, nothing but her; he’d latched onto her almost immediately and she’d gone with it. She wasn’t exactly one to talk about self-help, mind you, she’d gone to therapy two, three, and four months after Disintegration Day. She’d got to a point where she couldn’t see past the emotions she had, couldn’t see anything else for herself and she’d accepted that as her reality. Accepted this as her life now.

Daisy came back with a stick, which she threw for the dog again and again. She seemed to have boundless energy and be completely care free. Jess wished she could feel the same but the sickness of loss had settled too deep, so deep in fact, that she thought she’d never feel any different. But that was all on the inside, and she covered it over with a warm smile and a bright disposition. Smile even when the inside is nothing but ash.

Walking the boardwalk with the wind buffeting her hair into a wild mess, Jess was alone. It was well after nine, all of the people had left save for a few coming and going from a gym up at the top of the park. She’d been strolling and playing with Daisy for hours, thankfully the dog loved her so it wasn’t a hardship.

Jess hummed a tune into the wind as she walked, it was the most peaceful she felt on any given day. Just her, the ocean, the briny air, the sting of the wind on her cheeks and in her eyes. The tears that welled up could have been attributed to the blustering wind but they weren’t. When they fell hot on her cheeks and chilled instantly she swiped them away with her jacket sleeve. She’d cried enough. The next droplet to land wasn’t a tear. The rain had begun.

Urging herself forward she picked up her pace, heading back to the café before the rain became a deluge. Ahead there was a man sat on one of the benches. The lamp above illuminated his large form, hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. He wore a grey jersey hoodie with the hood up, grey jogging pants and a pair of running shoes. The peak of a baseball cap poked from under his hood.

The rain had darkened his clothing over his head, shoulders and the tops of his thighs already, and he showed no sign of moving. As she passed she felt a jolt of fear. Muggings were rare in New London, but there were still those who sought a thrill in harming or terrorising defenceless women. She wasn’t exactly defenceless. She clasped the can of mace in her pocket tightly until she felt safe. The man hadn’t even looked up at her as she’d passed and several glances behind her told her what she needed to know; through sheets of slanting rain he sat there alone, unmoving.

David was apologetic and late. The barista in Neptune’s had patiently allowed her to remain in the shop even after ten o’clock closing on account of the rain. He accepted his, now cold, latte with pleading eyes. A large hickey low on his neck told her that he’d well and truly enjoyed the unplanned overtime on his secret tryst.

With Daisy stuffed inside his jacket they ran the three blocks back to the practice. In the underground parking garage David babbled about how amazing Silas was, how in love they were, how he wished they could just run away together.

Jess nodded and ahhh’d in all the right places, listening to the happiness bubbling out of him. It was nice to see him smiling for more than a brief second. Something must have really happened tonight to make him this excited, but she didn’t pry, he’d tell her eventually, he always did.

Home alone Jess flopped onto the cream leather couch still in her wet coat, where she fell into a troubled sleep.

The rest of the week things panned out in much the same way. The storm that had blown in on Tuesday night was gone by Wednesday morning only to return again on Wednesday night, Thursday night and also Friday night. By the time she got home on Friday Jess had taken the hint and packed a long waterproof ponceau and some knee-high boots into the trunk of her car, for next time.

David had been late every day that week, leaving her waiting in the rain when the Neptune’s staff had inevitably had to leave at well after eleven o’clock. Jess had been less than impressed with him, it had felt disrespectful. She soon felt guilty for being annoyed with him, and her frustration hadn’t lasted long.

Each night, on her walk along the boardwalk she had encountered the ‘lonely man’, as she internally named him. It was as if he sat awaiting the rain, watching as the sky blackened and the air filled with cascading torrents.

On Friday the park emptied earlier than usual, the regularity of the rain driving people away back to their homes. Jess had no such luck, having to wait on David and his booty call.

“Don’t be bitter.” She muttered to herself. “He’s happy.”

She’d paused midway along the wooden decked walkway, watching the last of the light die, shrouding the rolling clouds in night.

A noise behind her made her jump. The lonely man sat on his usual seat, in his grey hoody and jogging pants. Maybe her talking to herself had disturbed him, maybe her presence distracted him from his meditations, but he looked at Jess with one piercing blue eye. The other was in shadow under his hood.

Daisy was pulling on her leash to go sniff the man. He didn’t seem phased at all, or indeed amused by all the huffing and puffing the little dog was doing, straining to get closer. He was stoic, troubled even, obviously wanting solitude. She could relate.

“Don’t mind us.” Jess offered a quick smile and a nod before scooping the dog up in her arms and turning back to the waves crashing on the beach.

Half past nine came and there was no rain. Thunder grumbled in the distance but the sky did not weep. Jess could almost feel the electricity in the air. When this storm came it was going to be massive.

AC/DC Back in Black played from her pocket, shocking her out of her daze enough that she nearly dropped the dog over the railing onto the sand. Fumbling for her phone she swore bitterly.

“Hello, David is everything alright?”

“It’s ten, where are you?” He sounded stressed.

“Still down by the beach, I lost track of time.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I keeping you waiting this time? Shoe’s on the other foot is it? At least it’s not raining.” She snapped.

“Ok I deserve that. Where are you, I’ll come down?”

“I’m by marker twelve. See you in a few.” She stuffed the phone back into her pocket and repositioned the dog in the cradle of her arms.

David approached at a jog, breathless when he arrived, planting a hasty kiss on her cheek before accepting Daisy into his own embrace.

“I was worried.” He said with gravity.

“You don’t get to lecture me on punctuality, David, you kept me waiting for hours in the rain three nights in a row.” Jess let her annoyance flow into her tone.

“I said I was sorry!” He pushed back.

“Yeah, let’s just go.”

Jess turned to leave. The lonely man met her gaze with an amused half-smile, he acknowledged her with a slow blink and a nod. She returned the gesture and looped her hand through David’s arm as they left. Part way up the pathway lightning crackled its way across the sky and thunder boomed gun-shot loud overhead. There was a pregnant pause, a long sighing sound of rain rushing over water and sand, before the curtain closed around them and they were soaked.

Jess glanced back at the lonely man. He occupied her spot at the railing, his hood down now and face up turned to the sky. There was beauty in the sadness displayed there, in the way he sought to connect with something bigger than himself, maybe the rain washed away that which he wished to be free of.

They hurried to the car and were silent on the drive to drop David at home. Jess packed waterproofs in her trunk before turning in for the night. Her bed just didn’t feel right, almost like it had those first weeks without Will. She tossed and turned fitfully late into the night. Sleep was just beyond reach.

#thor fanfiction #thor odinson #marvel #marvel fanfiction #thor x ofc #post infinity war #avengers #pre endgame #angst #thor angst #survivor's guilt #depression #kindred spirits #my writing #beyond broken #thor fanfic #thor fic #cloudy's writing

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kylo-ren-writes · 5 years

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Soulmates, Part 2

I, II

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Request: anon requested:

“ Hii, I’ve had this on my mind for foreevveerrrr but I was wondering if you could do a super angsty Kylo x reader fic where it’s a soul mate type of situation but Kylo won’t admit it because he’s an asshole and he’s trying to push reader away. But one day he’s just so fed up with all the conflicting emotions that he starts a huge fight in hopes that it make reader leave but instead he ends up telling reader he’s in love with them? I hope that makes sense🙈”

Warnings: Cold Kylo, kind of angsty, short part.

Tag List: @that-girl-named-alex @patersonfrompaterson @ericatrbl (If you wanted to be tagged but weren’t let me know!)

A/N: this part is shorter because I wanted to make the next one more fluffy and have Kylo actually nice in it, lol. I’ll probably post part 3 tomorrow or Saturday! (gif not mine!)

Another week goes by after the incident in the meeting room with Kylo. It still stings, what he said to you--or didn’t--and how he reacted. The cold look he had had on his stupidly handsome face is still burned into your memory, and every time you are forced to see him, that image of him is the only thing you can see.

The only reason you haven’t quit yet, other than the fact that you need a job, is because of the knowledge that Kylo is your soulmate. Even though he has made it pretty clear that he wants nothing to do with you, you can’t help but hold out hope. It’s stupid, but maybe you could sway him, or even have some form of healthy relationship with him, even if it is only friendship. You would take anything at this point if it meant that the two of you were on good terms. If not to settle the ache in your chest, but also to make your job as his assistant more bearable.

In the office, you feel alone. The whole soulmate mess with Kylo has you too down and depressed to make any friends or interact with anyone in the office. Not to mention how isolated your own space is. Your desk sits outside of Kylo’s office inside a small room that leads out into the hallway. It leaves you completely by yourself when Kylo has his door closed, which is always. It’s miserable.

Kylo has been holed up in his office all day. He had made the swift command earlier this morning that he did not want to be bothered by anyone for whatever reason. It brings you comfort and calmness. You don’t have to worry about attending to his every need, or more importantly, you don’t have to worry about having to see him; To face him and look him in the eye.

But just because you don’t have to worry about seeing him, doesn’t mean you aren’t thinking about him. For the past week after you had gotten over his coldness towards you, which you are not actually recovered from, you cannot help but wonder if Kylo is suffering just as you are. Of course, you assume he isn’t, but after doing research on “soulmates,” your findings reveal that Kylo should be in as much pain as you are. Soulmates are naturally pulled together. Trying to sever the bond would be painful for the both of you, emotionally and physically. Of course, naturally that is hard to believe. Kylo acts like nothing happened between the two of you. He acts like you aren’t soulmates, like he isn’t bothered by the issue. He’s cold and apathetic. There is nothing from him to give away any secret emotions he may be feeling over ignoring you.

Although, even though you are hurting and Kylo is the only person you can think about, you do give him his space. You don’t engage in conversation with Kylo unless he initiates it or you have to. You don’t go near him unless he calls for you. Every interaction between you is professional and distant. Exactly how Kylo wants it. You respect what he wants and his space, even though it is painful for you.

You suppose it is the soulmate bond that prevents you from slamming open Kylo’s door to give him a piece of your mind.

When 3pm rolls around there is an ache in your upper back and neck from hunching yourself over your desk. You straighten your spine as you stretch out the kink, rolling your shoulders forwards and back to alleviate the ache.

A coffee sounds great to you, as well as food since you had skipped lunch on the off chance Kylo would need you. He hadn’t, however (big surprise), so you busied yourself with paperwork and files all afternoon, blocking out the sounds of the office and the image of him in your head. You’re the kind of person that buries themselves in their work when you feel sad or upset, so at least your work ethic isn’t suffering.

You stand up from your chair and make to grab your purse from where it sits on the floor when suddenly the door to Kylo’s office opens. Freezing in place, your gaze snaps over to the door where Kylo is standing. He seems to gaze at you, in fact, you notice his eyes roaming over you, or are you imagining it?

“What are you doing?” Kylo asks, his tone curt and impassive.

Smoothing your hands over your skirt, your eyes flicker down to the floor where your purse still sits, before glancing back up at his face. His dark hair is tousled, messy, like he had been running his fingers through it all day.

“I was about to go get myself lunch and a coffee,” you reply.

Kylo narrows his brows. “It’s 3pm.” His large hands rest in the pockets of his trousers, the movement causing your gaze to unintentionally shift to there.

You clear your throat and pick your purse up from the floor. “I… missed lunch… lost track of time,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly. If he knew the real reason why you had purposely missed lunch, he would not be happy.

Kylo’s gaze is studious as he observes you, considering your explanation. You’re not sure if that is your cue to go or not, or if he has more to say.

Then finally, “bring me back a coffee.” Not even a please.

“Black?” You ask, ignoring his lack of manners and the gruffness to his tone as you mindlessly roll your chair into the desk. At least he isn’t annoyed or agitated like how he normally is when he demands coffee. You know it isn’t your place, although it really should be, but you wish he wouldn’t work as hard as he does. The physical toll it takes on him is obvious with the dark circles under his eyes and the amount of coffee he seems to consume daily.

A wordless nod is all you get for a response and then you are walking around your desk, past Kylo, to leave. But before you can cross the doorway an idea pops into your head. Stopping in your tracks, you slowly turn, your eyes immediately meeting his golden brown ones. You’ve never seen eyes like his, and no matter how cheesy it is, you’ve fallen in love with them.

Kylo hasn’t moved, only turned his body in the intention of watching you leave. You try not to let that observation flourish into something hopeful.

“Would you like to come with me?” You ask him as you fix him with a small, hopeful smile. You ignore that doubtful voice in your head telling you to give up.

It almost looks like Kylo is considering it, but judging by how stiff his posture gets and the cold look to his eyes, you don’t have to hear his answer to know it. “No.”

Of course you are let down, but you try not to let it show. However, you aren’t about to let this go either. The two of you could be friends, couldn’t you?

“Are you sure? I know you haven’t left your office all day. You must be hungry.”

Kylo doesn’t bring a lunch from home, you know that. So, you look at him knowingly, seeing one of his fingers twitch from your peripheral, as if he’s trying not to let anything slip. But he must know that you know, you’ve spent enough time with him to pick up on his habits. You’re also his soulmate, so, naturally you pay extra attention to him than you would someone else.

“I am hungry,” Kylo exhales, seemingly annoyed, but still controlled. “However, I don’t particularly want to eat with you,” he deadpans.

You try not to allow his statement to bother you, but you can’t help how your lips naturally fall into a frown, or the backwards step you take in recoil. “Oh…” is all you can manage as the grip you have on your purse tightens.

Of course Kylo would say that, you shouldn’t have expected anything less from the man. He is colder than an iceberg, after all. But it still stings and you are utterly failing at trying to not let it bother you. And bother you it should. Kylo is your soulmate. The rejection hurts, leaving a physical ache inside your chest where your heart is.

Peeling your gaze away, you half turn so you don’t have to look at him anymore, because looking at his cold, impassive face is like a slap to yours. “I will get you your coffee then, sir.” Your tone is level and a little bit cold. But you only did that so he wouldn’t know the effect of his blow.

When you don’t receive a response from the man, you walk out of the small room and head towards the elevator. You could cry right now, you really could, but there would not be much of a point. You presume this is about as warm as Kylo will be towards you, you might as well get used to it.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren imagines #kylo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren imagine #kylo fanfiction #kylo ren star wars #star wars kylo ren #star wars au #star wars imagine #star wars fan fiction #kylo ren au

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get-a-new-lease-on-life · 5 years

Text

A New Lease on Life - #59

WELL. It's been about a donkey's age since I've been able to update this. Normally I'd apologize for the wait…but…well, honestly, I've been beating myself up enough as it is and it's not like it happened out of the blue. Kinda-brief update for anyone wondering: I've warned about an impending grief hiatus since my uncle Bob's cancer diagnosis, and the hiatus came to pass in December. Uncle Bob finally lost his fight to cancer after two years of treatment and fading. The end came on rather suddenly but after the deathwatch he went peacefully and without pain. His death really messed me up, especially since I was already suffering from depression. Our first Christmas without Bob was also our last Christmas with Granny Chance, his mother and my grandmother…she suffered a massive stroke in January and died soon afterward. In the space of a month, my family and I lost two members, one right after the other. In a word, the whole situation has been FUCKED and it's still not completely over. There are good days, and bad days…and, to quote a certain Del Toro film, "Then there are the really bad days." Between those, we're all slowly working our way through the fallout and healing process. This chapter is the first I've been able to finish since SEPTEMBER, largely because all of my stories are currently in plot-required angsty-dramatic phases and I CANNOT WRITE SAD SCENES when I'm depressed. It's entirely IMPOSSIBLE, they always come out farcical or they just don't flow. It SUCKS. TBH, I don't know for certain if I'm going to be able to catch up to my previous writing abilities or pace anytime soon but I'm certainly going to try. Also, quick note if you're reading this on Tumblr – they recently enacted a WORDBLOCK LIMIT on text posts of 100 blocks. Yeah. We're now limited to 100 paragraphs including the title. If the chapter's low dialogue and has no notes, that's fine, but if not? Well, we're just screwed because THIS ONE ran 86 ¶s WITHOUT the notes, glossary, and pre-story stuffs. I'm not sure yet how I'll be handling that limit for good, whether that means posting links to sites without the bullshit limits, posting long chapters in pieces, or linking to the separate posts with the notes and glossary, but I'll figure it out in time. For now, I’ll be including the NOTES at the end and you can find the GLOSSARY at FFnet or AO3. Check out Spotify for a playlist centered on this arc - features suggested listening for this chapter and the next few, and much, much more. Lastly, I'd like to take a moment to thank everyone for their patience and understanding, and give a shout-out to some wonderful people who've made this new chapter possible. This chapter is dedicated to Wolf, Newt, and Ihlni for their invaluable support and kind words – to my hubby Cold for letting me ugly-cry on him without complaint and never failing to remind me that life has to go on – to my ma-in-law for teasing me about earning a nasty hangover instead of acknowledging that I looked like death-on-the-rocks and was obviously crying before I answered the door – to my mother for being a bloody SAINT and to my father for intentionally being an asshole when someone to fight with was just what I needed – to Wanda Farmer on AO3 and vbt22220 on FFnet for their encouragement in reviews, the folks on Tumblr who offered kind words when I needed them most, and to all you wonderful people who've stuck by me, read my stories, and are still reading after all this time. Above all, though, this chapter is dedicated to the memory of Granny Chance and Uncle Bob – may they ever rest in peace.

Suggested Listening: Fuel "Hemorrhage [In My Hands]," Paramore "The Only Exception," Prince "Purple Rain," Survivor "I Never Stopped Loving You"

59: A Matter of Honor

The Lair, November 19th - around noon

Donatello wasn't known for being a fool; regardless, he felt rather foolish anytime the obvious failed to register until it was staring him in the face. This was just such a time. He didn't recall sequestering himself in the lab much less falling asleep at his workbench, but the proof was self-evident: a crick in his neck, a strand of insulated wire still stuck to his drool-sticky cheek, and sweat-smeared glasses half off his face. It took a moment of tired lip-smacking and searching to comprehend the facts—ah, right, he pulled an all-nighter to complete the vital signs monitor for Kimber's visit. From what he could see, the device was, indeed, completed. Too tired to consider the absurd picture he must make, he peeled the wire trimming off his cheek and set it aside.

What woke him? He searched his memory, found nothing, then turned to more closely examine his surroundings. A plate of now-cold PopTarts and a cup of coffee (helpfully covered with a cracked saucer) waited a safe distance from his elbow. Right - it was Saturday. This time last year he easily lost track of the days between all-nighters and the sleeping-binges that always followed them. Now he had a weekly reminder in the form of too-sweet coffee and half-burned pastries, courtesy of the confusing woman whose scent still clung to his skin. How blessed he felt in this moment…

The moment ended with a familiar sound—a sleep-slurred phrase he could recognize anywhere but never quite understood. Ya been away too long he got, and he recognized the terms sook, e'en, and nip though he wasn't fully certain of their context.* Beyond that the half-Celt tucked into the cot may as well have been speaking Greek for all he knew. The oft-repeated tease fell short in a particularly nasal snore. Donnie hoisted himself out of his chair with a chorus of protesting joints and slowly rounded the workbench. Silently, he regarded his sleeping woman, soaking in all the silly little details that caught his eyes—the freckles spattered across her skin, the flash of faded ink peeking up over her drooping neckline, the stubborn silver cowlicks sticking up at odd angles from her loosely bound hair—anything to remind himself she was still alive.

He shook his head in weary defeat. A full week after their desperate flight from Willsdale and every time he woke he still half-expected to find Amber cold to the touch, lifeless and painted in blood. Perhaps, he considered as he gathered her in his arms and made his way to their bedroom, this was one scar which would only be healed with time. Perhaps, he considered as he lay her across the neatly tucked quilt and curled up behind her, he could only conquer his fear of Amber's death by focusing on her life. Even as he tugged her flush against his plastron and groin and nuzzled into her neck, he couldn't erase the memory of her: bruised, bloody, and broken, and rapidly fading in his arms. He shuddered and sucked in a steadying breath of her scent.

She wasn't dead, she was alive now…it was enough…right?

Red Fern Florist, Noon

Normally, Red Fern Florist was a calm place – a quiet and classy establishment that just so happened to be run by people who didn't care about being quiet or classy. This, alas, was not a normal day, not even in the slightest.

Abilene Whitaker manned the register, eyes focused somewhere beyond the neon-streaked pages of her textbook and not registering a word. The backroom echoed with near-constant racket—crashes, curses, objects falling or being thrown… Abby sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and dragged herself off of the barstool to investigate. Sure enough, Mercy was stocking the shelves a tad too roughly…if by roughly one meant throwing the bags of supplies around like a spandex-clad steroid junkie at a WWE grudge-match smackdown.

"Alright, that's enough," Abby snapped at her blonde subordinate; Mercy froze, embarrassed grey-blue eyes meeting Abby's over a lean, hunched shoulder. "You've been stomping around and slamming things all afternoon. What on earth could be so horrible you've gotta torture the mulch?" Mercy cringed, fixing guilty eyes on the bag of mulch in her grip. Caught. "Well?" The blonde uttered a sound halfway between a groan and a growl, snorted, then slid the bag onto its shelf with more care than necessary.

"My man's ex is comin' by tonight," she admitted under her breath. "She's stayin' a few days."~

"WHAT?!" Abby squawked in protest. "He's bringing his ex over?! Aw, Hell naw! Girl, you drop that boy before I find him and punch him in the man-fritters!" Man-fritters?** Mercy couldn't help it – she sniggered at the visual – but her laughter faded into regret when she registered the rest of Abby's threat.

"No can do," she sighed, "it's kinda unavoidable." Abby crossed her arms, scrunched her lips into an almost exact replica of Leo's 'pissy leader pout,' and waited for an explanation. Mercy rolled her eyes, spearing her fingers into her hair and yanking. "Kimber…well, she's like me an' Amber," she explained under her breath. "Remember I told ya Amber…uh…went home for a few days? Well, she almost…um…didn't come back. Bitch-nipple's comin' over to see how long any of us can stay home without that happening. She invited herself, we voted, Raph lost, she won." Abby took a moment to let that sink in.

"Your guy tried to vote her off the island?" A grim nod from Mercy. "They broke up before she left, right?"

"…and she left before he an' I met," Mercy added even as she rolled her eyes.~ All the code-talk really got on her nerves but they had to be mindful of the security cameras. Abby leaned against the doorframe, lean shoulders at a sharp slant, and hazel eyes puzzled behind her fuchsia-streaked hair.

"You think she wants him back?" she asked quietly. "He won't…" She sucked in a nervous breath. "What if she tries to win him back?"

"You're kiddin', right?" Mercy scoffed. "He dumped her! He's been angsty as fuck over breakin' her heart, yeah, but I know'im—she could make all the moves she wants, he ain't gonna budge."~ Not to mention Kimber's still dead she added in her own head then shook it. After all, she was dead, too. The whole situation stank like a crappy soap opera. "I trust'im, Abbs," she added under her breath. "Raph chose me, not the Jersey-Devil-wannabe…jealousy's pointless when I already know the end result, an' that end result is he's with me."

Abby watched her a moment, scrutinizing and studying; just as suddenly as she issued the threat against Raph's genitals, she smiled. "You're a strong woman," the neon-haired clerk remarked lightly. "I ever heard one of Cherie's exes asking to stay, I'd bash the twat's teeth in. You need anything, you give me a call, alright?" Mercy nodded, halfway between a cringe and a grateful smile, and went back to the stocking. "So how are things going between you two, anyway?" Abby added taking up her share of the lifting. "You never bring him by, you never tell me much about him…how's he treating you?"

Mercy paused, brow furrowed, and scrambled for an answer that didn't make her sound like an absolute sap. She couldn't find one. "He makes me wanna listen to Faith Hill, watch him sleep, an' punch his ex in the teeth," she grumbled. The heat in her cheeks went nuclear at Abby's excited squeal.

"Oh-em-GEE!" the younger practically shrieked. "You love him!" Mercy shot her a sour glare.

"Woman," she groused, "shut yer ass – the bullshit's leakin' out."

The Lair, shortly after dusk - 00:00:00

Two weeks ago, Kimber Bryant faced down Leonardo and demanded the opportunity to make right the trouble she caused his family. Now she stood in the hallway, practically quaking in her mud-stained canvas sneakers, unsure how to proceed. It didn't exactly help that Leo was still glaring at her from behind and her other escort, Donatello, kept fiddling with the tablet strapped to his left forearm.

"Now remember, you've gotta keep the leads from getting tangled," the genius rambled without ever once looking at her. "A little perspiration shouldn't cause any unwanted interference—I insulated the outer casing well to deter any outside condensation or humidity finding its way into the monitor's internal components but there are limits." Kimber rolled her bottle green eyes over at Leo in hope of rescue from Donnie's babbling but received only a glare. "It's not fully water-tight," the genius continued with a shrug and 'meh' expression, still without even glancing her way, "so we'll need to cover it with a water-resistant dressing when it comes to bathing but other than that it—"

"Today, Donnie," Leo grumbled. The younger startled out of his thoughts, fingertips still poised on the holographic chart projected over his tech-tab. He blinked a few times in rapid succession as though refreshing his memory then turned to Kimber in question. From the looks of it, she seemed ready to chew her ankle off to escape the lecture. She really was so very different from Amber…how could they possibly be the same person underneath it all? Could a person's history and past choices really have that big an impact on their personality and attitude?

"Uh…right," he uttered with a wince. "Anyway, it's natural for your core temperature to fluctuate a certain amount over the day but if it drops too low, I'll get an alert. We may not have much time to get you back…so…" he trailed off in hopes she'd pick up the slack.

"Don't get comfy," she finished sourly. "Yeah, I got it. Git lawst."~ He crinkled his nose at her demand but said nothing; instead, he rolled his eyes in defeat and took off toward the lab.

"Remember our agreement," the eldest warned under his breath as he shouldered past her. "You have one chance, and you're to stay—"

"I got it, I got it," Kimber snapped in response. "Go dig t'at stick out'a ya ass before it gets stuck up t'ere."~ Other than a deep-chested growl of warning, Leonardo said nothing—he just stormed past her to some destination she didn't care to know. Rolling her eyes at his attitude, she made her way toward the light at the end of the hallway. The closer she came the more clearly she heard a familiar voice—a voice that still haunted her fondest dreams and worst nightmares.

Familiar laughter led her into the living area where two people were cuddled up on a lumpy sofa. The larger wore a familiar boyish grin that stole the breath right from her lungs. In her grip, the duffle-bag strap slid loose—sweaty palms, she realized. A fluttering, weightless sensation filled her veins—oh, no… 'Gawd dammit…why've I gotta still love'im?'~ She choked around the damned butterflies doing barrel-rolls in her gullet. Steeling her nerves, she shook off her mushy thoughts and turned the corner. 'It don't change nothin'—dead's dead, an' he never chose me anyway. It's better t'is way.'

Raphael…he looked so much the same and yet so different. His eyes shone with laughter where they once burned with distrust; his posture was relaxed where he always kept up a front before. Tucked into his side and 'narrating' the boxing match with absurd faked voice-overs was a tall, lean woman with short messy blonde hair. Kimber's lip ached to curl in a sneer as the blonde loosed a raucous laugh but she fought it back—Raph wasn't hers. If this…this woman in his arms was enough for him…well, she'd respect that. She only ever wanted to see him happy and by God, she'd do so, no matter how much it hurt.

One moment, everything in Mercy's world was perfect. There was a decent match on TV, Raph had 'bullied her' into not-cuddling with him, and for the moment they had no other obligations. As it always seemed to, though, everything fell apart in a single breath…a breath that carried a perfume of vanilla, sugar, and musk. The smell wasn't entirely unpleasant but it was strong enough to make her sinuses burn and her head hurt. Why must so many people marinate themselves in perfume and cologne?

As Mercy and Raphael turned to greet the newcomer in unison the arm around her waist slackened—bright golden hazel eyes widened—full, scarred lips fell slack in dismay. Those lips formed a single word—a name Mercy spent hours cursing that afternoon—but no sound came forth. Torn, she held her silence, eyes darting from Raphael to the stranger and back again almost desperately. She knew this moment would come, she just didn't realize how much she'd want to scream obscenities when it did.

The stranger broke the stare first, bottle-green eyes flustered behind their impeccable smoky eyeliner. She reached up to her modest neckline, grabbed at the pair of worn metal dog-tags at her chest, took a deep breath, then looked up again with a weak smile. "'ey, Raphie," she murmured in a voice still thick with smog. "Long time no see, huh?" The hulking mutant couldn't even get out a single word; he just nodded, his chin and lips unnaturally stiff. Even as he stared down Kimber Bryant he clenched his fingers even tighter to Mercy's waistband. Mercy glanced down at the sight of his three-fingered hand anchoring her in place by a belt-loop. Just that morning, she woke up with that hand tangled in the hem of her nightgown anchoring it at mid-thigh. She had nothing to fear.

She pried Raph's fingers loose, stretched an imaginary crick from her neck, and rolled off the sofa to her feet. "I'll catch up later," Mercy remarked with an entirely faked smile and made her way to the side door. "Compost prob'ly needs a turnin' 'bout now."~ On the way past, she silently took in what details she could, mentally comparing them. The other woman was her height but beyond thin and into skinny. Her hair was coarse—naturally red from the looks of it but with a texture similar to unraveled jute twine. A sharp glance told Mercy the other had practically no ass; no competition there. She rolled her eyes, punched in the security code to pass through, then let the door drift shut behind her.

Before she could get anywhere a pair of large, powerful hands snatched her by the shoulders, spun her about, and pinned her to the tunnel wall. "Why you leavin'?" Raph demanded sharply. His voice was barely below a shout but as so often before, Mercy saw underneath that posturing—she saw the suspicious shimmering in his eyes, the nervous tic in his jaw, the vulnerable hunching of his shoulders, and the lurching of his throat and plastron from frantic heaving breaths. Fear was the one thing he really had no reason to feel in this case but it was written all over him. She cupped his squared jaw, thumb tracing the scar splitting his lip.

"I ain't leavin', ya meathead," she corrected as he covered her hand with his in a frantic grip. "You were friends, right? Ya never got to say goodbye. I've seen how this's been tearin' you apart an' I'm sick of watchin' it."~ Her lips curled in a tease but it was entirely true—she was beyond sick of having another woman in their relationship, even a dead one. "Ya need closure, I get that—I'm backin' off so you can get it. Got it?" Raphael said nothing—he just stared back, visibly searching her words for subtext. When he finally spoke, what he asked made no sense.

"Why?" he demanded in a near-deadpan. Mercy wrinkled her nose but before she could speak, he continued. "Why're ya testin' me like dis? What've I done ta deserve dat?"~

"Testin' you?" Mercy shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not testin' ya, Red," she promised. "I know you and I trust you—you're not about to cheat on me with anyone, much less a dead chick, right?" He shook his head in agreement and his eyes softened; he belatedly released her hand, choosing instead to cup her cheek.

"I wouldn't do dat to ya," he confirmed gruffly. "I'd never…I promised not ta hurt ya an' I meant it…but…" He faltered, flustered and struggling to find the right words. "Dis ain't right…ya ought'a be pissed at me fer even lettin' 'er come here…heck, if dis happened to any other guy, he'd get slapped fer lettin' it happen!"

"You're not any other guy," Mercy reminded shortly, "an' I'm not any other gal. Jealousy won't help anything, it ain't healthy, and you weren't too keen on her comin' over, to begin with. I've got no reason to be mad at'cha, an' especially no reason to hit ya."~ Her eyes drifted back toward the side door, now closed, and she sighed. "I don't like it," she admitted as her hand drifted down to his thick neck, "but I know you need closure an' I trust you enough to not interfere."

Raphael said nothing—what could he possibly say?—instead, he took a step back, eyes wide. This wasn't the first time she professed her trust in him, nor would it be the last, but this utterance seemed the most improbable of all. Wait…no, there was one other moment even more unexpected—a recent moment, the moment he first witnessed Mercy Ross fall apart at the seams, right there in his arms.#

Tousled blonde hair spilled across his pillow like scattered straw. Unpainted lips, swollen from friction, panted around gasping breaths. Work-roughened fingertips clawed at the equally tough skin of his bare scalp and shoulders as he unleashed all his pent-up frustration on her finally bared skin.

"I trust you," she'd promised only moments before. "When are ya gonna start trustin' yourself?"

"Ya shouldn't trust me," he'd blustered, but despite his denials, he caved to her temptation. He knew from the first breath it would take weeks to clear her pheromones from his lungs; he'd never forget the taste of her or her keening cries of completion. When the madness left her eyes and the fire dulled in his blood, Raphael knew he'd never be able to see his Mercy the same, nor would he ever cease to be humbled by her seemingly unshakable faith in him—trust he couldn't recall doing a damn thing to earn.

That July, Raphael took a chance on happiness in the middle of an open rooftop—a single kiss followed by countless more, all sound-tracked with heavy metal. Ever since then, anytime he fell to the temptation of Mercy's lips, he lost himself completely. He wanted her—he needed her—he craved her—she was the air he breathed, vital to his very survival and responsible for every beat of his heart. Far below the filthy streets, in a dark passage forgotten by the world in general, he stole her lips and breathed her in reverence.

He loved her—loved her beyond the limits of his fears and follies—and that was why she knew he wouldn't let her down.

"So you two, huh?" Raphael ducked his head to avoid Kimber's eyes, hoping she couldn't see the traces of stickiness at his lips or the tenting of his patched trousers. She said nothing, choosing instead to examine the worn red tweed of the sofa arm she perched on.

"What of it?" he retorted slumping onto the seat at the opposite end of the couch.

"Looks like ya found a good one, 'at's all," she shrugged. He studied her silently a moment, searching for signs of deceit. In his heart, he knew this stranger was Kimber—his Kimber, the friend he threw away over his insecurities and fears—but her appearance was largely unfamiliar. Kimber was always on the chunky side of curvaceous but with an undeniable sex appeal. This new body was built like a scarecrow - all long limbs and frizzy hair - but underneath he could see the same sensual confidence Kimber had before she died. That sensuality was all Kimber - Amber lacked it completely, always coming across somewhere between odd and awkward. This woman, though visually unfamiliar, was definitely Kimber. Something in her eyes spoke of mischief…and regret. "Fer Gawd's sake," she swore under her breath and turned an acidic glare on him. He refused to meet it, locking his eyes on one padded and splayed knee. "I know t'a drill—I'm dead, not stoopid."

"Ya were never stupid, Kim, jus' stubborn an' naive," he protested but she waved him off.

"T'en quit lookin' at me like t'at." After a moment of resistance, he finally bit the bullet—he met her eyes. "Yeah, like t'at," the redhead grumbled, "like I'm gonna jump ya if ya take yer eyes off'a me or somethin'. I may be livin' in a homewrecker but t'at don't make me a homewrecker." This time, she was the one to hide her eyes.

A long, tense silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional sound from the Lab or utility room. In this unexpected but overdue moment, despite the drastically different appearance, Raphael saw Kimber as she was when they first met—not the over-confident temptress with the venomous smile and devil-may-care attitude but the lost, lonely, frightened runaway searching for her place in the world. Her new body was thirty-five if it was a year old, but she'd never looked more like a child to him than she did now. The night she turned Lefty and Northpaw over to the police and fell apart, Raph let the wrong head do the thinking and her heart suffered for it. So much heartache came from that one bad call—Kimber's death, too, was a result—how could he ever make it right?

"Rah-fay-el." The quiet – almost reverent – utterance of his name startled him from his brooding. Kimber faced the far wall but her eyes were locked on his askance. "Tell me t'a truth…did ya ever love me?" He blanched; she scoffed and picked at the faded red tweed covering the sofa. "I know we was close," she clarified in a soft tone void of accusation, "friends to be sure, but did ya ever love me like I loved you?"

He didn't answer—he couldn't answer, not around the painful lump in his throat. For so long, he wondered the very same. Loving Kimber, after all, would have made his betrayal a crime of passion rather than a bad move made in paranoid self-defense. Despite all his brooding introspection, though, he always came up with the same answer: he could have loved her, but he didn't…if he'd kept his head, maybe, someday, he could have loved her, but he didn't. "Exactly." Kimber's near-whisper broke his train of thought. "I knew ya didn't love me," she admitted even as her shoulders drew tight and her painted lips stretched in a sort of sneer. "I always knew it, I just t'ought…eh, no matter. I'm not gonna fuck up yer life again."

"I think ya got dat backwards," Raph pointed out dryly. "I fucked up yer life—I'm why yer…" He faltered, his throat clenching around the word as though to prevent him from voicing it. "Ya know," he settled for with a weak half-shrug, "like dis." Kimber watched him silently, eyes sharp enough to cut away his protective façade.

"Say it," she challenged. He flinched; she slid off the armrest and stalked over to face him, arms crossed in defiance. "Say it, Raph," she ordered, "ya know what I am—ya know t'a word, so use it. I'm…" She trailed off, one eyebrow cocked in expectance.

Raphael cringed. Of all the times he wished it was possible to completely withdraw into his shell, this was one of the worst so far. Weary hazel eyes drifted from Kimber's dirty canvas sneakers up her faded jeans and cotton blouse, up to her unimpressed eyes. "Yer…dead," he whispered as if confessing some great sin.

"Exactly," Kimber harrumphed and jabbed him between the eyes with one clear-lacquered fingernail. "Dead folks an' live folks jus' don't mix, ya muck-brained mawron.~ It wouldn't work an' I ain't about to waste my time tryin' ta make it work. Capiche?" He nodded, glaring up at her retreating back.

"Den why'd ya come back?" he asked, letting his hand fall back to his knee. "Dere had to be anutha way to test Don's theory, so why'd ya volunteer?"~ Kimber stilled in her pacing, carefully arranging her words before they could all spill out without concern for her feelings.

"I never got ta say goodbye," she admitted in a near-whisper, "not ta you, not ta Daron or Lefty, not ta anyone who mattered…but I've neva been t'at big on goodbyes anyhow, ya know?" Her voice cracked on the last words and she took a moment to compose herself. When she spoke again, she turned to the side as though watching him over her shoulder but her eyes remained hidden. "I made a lotta mistakes, Red—a lotta stoopid decisions t'at hurt a lotta people—an' much as I wanted to just stay dead, I lived ta regret every one'a t'ose decisions. T'at's why I came back…t'a fix t'a shit I broke an' atone for my sins. If t'at means stayin' here fer t'ree days while you an' Blondie play suck-face, so be it."

"Ya know you're puttin' yer life at risk, right?" Raph reminded, ignoring the suck-face comment. "Donnie ain't sure about da timing on dis thing, ya know. He an' the braided nutcase passed five days in her world but they weren't gone a whole three days, here. Who's to say ya'll have a full three days here? Who's ta say ya won't drop dead in an hour, or three hours, or even a minute from now?" He shuddered at the thought, his mind helpfully supplying several months' worth of nightmares to choose from, most of which ended with Kimber dying in his arms. "Ya froze, Kim, an' dat ain't an easy way to go; are ya really willing to risk goin' through it all over again?"

"It's my choice," she reminded with a stern expression reminiscent of an unimpressed schoolmarm. "No one asked me ta make t'at choice. Besides, see t'is?" She tugged her neckline aside to show him the small plastic device hung from her neck and the line of wire trailing down to her armpit. "T'is lil' t'ing's monitoring my core temp—we've got t'is covered. Trust me?"

Raph considered the plea a moment—for it was, indeed, a plea in every sense of the word—then gave a slow, reluctant nod. "I don't like it," he admitted in a throaty rumble, "but it ain't my job ta like it." There was much more to say, but for the moment, he hadn't words.

"Nope," Kimber agreed with a sly grin. "It's yer job ta help me give Daron a heart attack. What say we give'im a visit from t'a Livin' Dead Girl?" It was just a tease—just another excuse to ignore the elephant in the room—but for the moment, Kimber didn't care. She had more important tasks to focus on—messes to clean up, mistakes to correct, sins to atone for, and honor to regain. For now, the rest could wait.

The Lair - 00:35:00 and counting

Time stops for no man, people often said, and the same could be said for women. Never mind that Amber's cantankerous counterpart was staying in the Lair for the weekend…lurking around every corner…stinking up the place with her perfume…just waiting for a chance to bitch-slap Amber back into her place at the bottom of the food chain…

Amber shuddered at the thought and firmly shoved it into the back of her mind. Kimber Bryant made Amber all kinds of nervous but her presence didn't excuse Amber from her chores. There was too much to do—laundry to put away, studying to do, dinner to prepare— Something soft and furry brushed against her calf, startling her from her thoughts. "Right," she muttered as Kirk bypassed the laundry basket at her feet and hopped up onto Donnie's bed. "Gotta clean the litterboxes an' feed Kirkland too." After a mrrruhl of warning and a superfluous butt-wiggle said feline launched himself right into a pile of folded undergarments and began viciously mauling a sock big enough to double as an oven mitt. As he lay on his side, wrapped around the sock and kicking like a homicidal kangaroo, Amber sighed and shook her head in whimsical defeat. After how much she'd missed him she couldn't really be upset with the little murder-machine; cats, after all, would be cats, and socks could be darned.

"It's inevitable, Kirk," she teased as she hung a pair of patched canvas trousers in the frame-and-fabric 'closet.' "You're just gonna have to get used to sharing me with Donnie. I know I'm Mom but he's mine - you can't resent him forever." With an adorable cotton-muffled urrrr, Kirk glared at her over a mouthful of beige knit as if to say watch me. Ah, the jealousy of spoiled cats.

"Honestly, I'm lucky to have Donnie," she added to herself, doubts and worries filling her thoughts between wire hangers. Back before the dream connection was confirmed—before Donatello confronted her with his old Tonfa and confessed the name of her dead classmate—Amber could fool herself he wasn't the same Donnie she grew up with. She could tell herself that he didn't know all her dirty little secrets. He didn't watch her fall apart over the last few years of her life, partly from illness and her and partly from depression and apathy. He never heard how her poor choices in college may have led to the death of a classmate. He never knew she routinely slaked her carnal needs in impersonal encounters so her time with him in dreams could be focused on more important things than her hormones. If this Donnie wasn't her Donnie, then the mistakes of her past were only a secret to keep.

The problem was…now she knew this was her Donnie…and by the sounds of it, he remembered everything. Amber paused, fondling a strip of worn purple fabric. Even after countless washings, every one of those masks smelled strongly of his oddly comforting blend of coffee, machinery, musky exertion, and spice. "How can he even look at me, Kirk?" Amber murmured into the sweet-smelling fabric. "I screwed up with him so many times…I gave up on him, I – I gave myself up to other guys…how doesn't he hate me by now?"

This last question seemed the most perplexing. Sure, the purpose of those impersonal booty-calls was to shut up her hormones so her scant time with Donnie could be put to better use, but she always regretted them afterward. Regret, though, didn't count if a person intentionally committed the same crime over and over again, and she was guilty—guilty of closing her eyes, mentally replacing the other men with Donnie, and crying herself to sleep after they left. Regret was a weak word, really; what she felt wasn't weak. After all the time she spent hating herself for the infidelity, the idea that Donnie didn't hate her for it made no sense.

The dead silence tore her from her ruminations; odd, considering Kirk had a habit of 'answering' her every time she spoke.## After a quick glance at the bed, it was all she could do to keep from laughing. The little furball was out cold, wrapped around her favorite bra and snoring into one generous cup. The battered sock sprawled on the floor half under the bed—the enemy was vanquished. Chuckling at the absurdity, Amber crouched to retrieve the sock but paused when she noticed something wedged between the mattress and box spring. A warped silver wire binding, traces of green beyond the rings…surely she was mistaken, but it wouldn't hurt to check…right?

Amber tugged the notebook loose and promptly cringed in recognition. It was her journal, the one she hadn't written in for months then misplaced. Why was it jammed under the mattress like a nudie magazine? Curiosity drove her to investigate and she quickly discovered the litany of notes scribbled upside-down in the back. She quickly lost herself in the writing—questions and memories, hopes and fears Donatello couldn't bring himself to share with her, all centered around their years apart. Though she didn't dig too deeply, there wasn't a single word of blame or judgment anywhere—nothing that indicated resentment or disgust. Amber almost missed the sheet of loose-leaf that slipped out and fluttered to the floor—almost. The pencil-scribbled contents might have made her stumble if she hadn't already seated herself before. "I met my lover in a dream," she whispered in recognition.^ "That poem…I thought I lost it...I guess Donnie found it?" Soon enough, she hit the final lines:

Mibbe someday he will see – Someday the truth I'll tell. For now, I've only memories, And dreams I shot tae Hell.

Or, rather, those should have been the final lines—they were the last she wrote. Someone, however, clearly thought the poem wasn't finished and added their own verse…in pen…neatly printed by a familiar hand straddling the border between calculating and persnickety. "No way," Amber muttered thickly as she scanned the added verse, wide-eyed and breathless. "Naw fookin' way!"~ No matter how she protested, the words remained clear, impossible yet obvious. Still marveling at their presence—and at the subtext—she never heard the soft ticking of a distant clock, or the even softer inhale accompanying.

Dreams can sometimes fall apart, And memories can fade. The truth you shared can't change my heart… Your lover-friend I've stayed…

I'll see you in our dreams.

There was no stopping it, no holding back: Amber crushed the paper to her pounding heart in elation. He remembered. He understood. He loved. Perhaps, even…he forgave?

Sometimes emotions are too powerful for words; fortunately for Amber, squealing unintelligibly required none.

UP NEXT: (Currently in-progress)

Chapter List

- The vital signs monitor – At first I wasn't quite sure if such a device was on the public market, at least aside from 'smart' devices like FitBit and such, so I did what I do best: I researched the fuck out of it for funzies. Turns out there are more varieties out there than I expected, each monitoring different signs in different fashions and to different accuracy levels. Since Donnie's never been the sort to simply COPY others' ideas, we can safely assume he's combined the best of several devices. The result is a small electronic monitor [about the size of a 9-volt battery] hung from the neck by a lanyard, which measures core body temp by way of leads attached to an adhesive-backed electrode stuck in the armpit. We can also assume fitting the device on Kimber was incredibly awkward because she intentionally MADE IT awkward.

* Full statement including what Amber's snoring cut off: "Ya be'n 'way too long 'gain, ya sook—nae be'n by fer a nip'er a bosie. Wha's a lass ta think?" – This little bit of Scotchness is a routine in-dream tease from Amber. You've been gone [from our dreams] too long again, you old softy—you haven't even come by for a kiss or cuddle. What's a woman to think?

** Man-Fritters – Alas, I cannot claim authorship of this little snigger-inducing euphemism. That honor belongs to author Mimi Jean Pampfiloff in her Accidentally Yours series. While the first two books were pretty recipe [if you know what I mean] they were HILARIOUS recipes. I'm not ashamed to admit that the scene in the first one where the heroine belts out 80's pop hits to keep sane made me laugh so hard I spewed my tea, CHOKED ON IT, then spent the rest of the day CROAKING. It was WORTH IT. (That said, the author also used a lovely little nonsense-word coined by my IRL friend Autumn back when we were in high school but didn't notate it. I'd encourage Autumn to stop starting word trends without first seeking a copyright but that'd mean I'd have to pay her every time I stole her stuff, heh.)

Also: Abby has no accent. She's intentionally warping the Oh, Hell no! in hopes of showing Mercy just how upset the news makes her.

# Implied smut – The encounter referenced here didn't make it to in-story occurrence BUT it took place during the Absolutes arc, which took up too much time-and-space for the intended back-and-forth between worlds. It's written up and included in the "Gallery of Memories" as The Blonde and the Beefcake and it can be found HERE.) It's almost entirely lemon, BTW. ;P

## Kirk tends to 'answer' Amber every time she talks to him – I am SO not basing this on our cat Heiferlump. Nope, not at all! …fine. Yes. Heifer responds to EVERYTHING she hears, no matter who says it, and it's rare to find someone she can't bait into answering back. She's particularly adept at getting my father to argue with her and routinely tries to argue with the microwave beeper. O_o It's awesome.

^ The Poem, "Dream Lovers" – I've not posted the entirety of the poem in any chapters or even the GoM installment of the same name. NOW, however, you can find the entire poem in comic format HERE, on this story's Here on Tumblr, OR on DeviantArt. The comic includes Donnie's additions and a small blurb of backstory leading to this scene, and the Tumblr/AO3 posts include a glossary for the many odd words used in the poem. For convenience's sake, I've included the translation of the included verse below.

Again, since Tumblr’s decided to be an ass about wordblock limits, see FFnet or AO3 for the glossary if anything throws you off.

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