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#our neighbor had already set out their trash cans for pick up tomorrow  and it ended up falling over and floating down the street
countrymusiclover · 2 months
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5 - The Birthday Surprise
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Part 6
It’s About Time
Mr. Cooper parked the truck and let me and Georgie get out at the tire shop. Georgie had helped fix a part in his truck and now he had started working there. I dropped my backpack on the nearest work table and hoisted myself up to sit down to watch. “So you’re saying he's got a tire gift?”
“Yes ma'am. Just watch.” Hershel nodded standing by me.
George Sr entered the tire shop and his neighbor handed him a beer. “Let’s see what you can do.”
“Okay.” Georgie nodded, slipping on some overalls and picking up one of the torn tires and laying it down on the table across from me. He basically laid on the tire rubbing his hands over the surfaces whispering, until he lifted his finger off a certain spot. “Tell me where it hurts baby…got ya.”
“Did you actually find it?” Jumping off the table I parted my mouth open, surprised.
Georgie lifted his finger off the spot a few more times showing me. “Yep.”
“That’s incredible.” I couldn't believe it that he made it look so easy.
George Sr looks at his neighbor. “I've got goosebumps.”
“I told ya he's got the gift.” Hershel nodded, taking a drink of his beer. “So are we all good with him still working here?”
George Sr finished his beer. “Yeah. His mom just said if his grades slip then he can't anymore.”
“Would you want to work with me too?” Georgie looks in my direction with such excitement.
I paused in thought. “Well that'd be up to Hershel. Plus I was thinking of working at this sporting goods store. Dales I think it's called.”
“There's an offer there if you change your mind.” Hershel said throwing the empty beer bottles in the trash can.
Georgie shifts his eyes to the wall cloak. “Oh hey it's almost time. Dad, we better go.”
“Go where?” I ask my best friend.
Georgie takes my hand in his dragging me back to the truck with his father thanking the man. “You'll see when we get there.” The three of us climbed in the truck and drove out almost to the edge of the town line. There was this area just past the Medford town sign that we pulled into.
“Georgie, why are we here?” I asked him after he had helped me out of the truck.
We had snuck out there with a few of our friends the year before we were going into high school. It had become our personal camp area, especially since Sheldon didn't care for the outdoors. “You'll see. Come on.” He tugged me by the hand around the corner and down a small dirt trail until we came to a clearing of trees and I saw our friend group all waiting for us.
Ryker, Marlowe, Hannah and Ashley all cheered. “Happy birthday.”
“Georgie!” I throw my arms around his neck hugging him as a big thank you.
He hugs me back looking at his dad who brought in our bags from the truck. “I'll pick you all up tomorrow morning. Happy birthday Y/n.”
“Thanks, Mr. Cooper.” I smiled and he left in his truck leaving us teenagers by ourselves.
Hannah came over removing me from Georgie’s grasp and over to the cooler’s they had set up by some bag lawn chairs. “I was able to snag some stuff without my dad finding out. Happy birthday.” She hands me a wine cooler.
“Thanks, Hannah. Don’t go getting arrested now.” Her father was the local police officer of our town so we would be in deep trouble if he found out.
Ashley nudged my arm coming over to us. “Stop worrying. Hannah and I are great liars.” Ashley and I had first met in Kindergarten after she wanted to play legos with me and we have been close ever since. Not as much as me and Georgie but pretty close.
Taking a drink from the bottle Hannah peaked her head over my shoulder where the boys had gone over on their own to talk like we had done. “What do ya think they’re talking about?”
“Football.” I answered her.
Ashley added on. “Annoyed, we are already gossiping over here.”
“I’ve got one better. Our bros are interrogating Georgie to finally ask the birthday girl out.” Hannah did a thumbs down and made a wrong answer buzzing sound.
Ashley’s face lit up. “Oooh yes.”
“Are you two still on that fairytale concept we joked about in fifth grade.” I scolded them feeling my face begin to turn red so I took a longer drink.
Hannah aims her wine cooler bottle at me. “It’s not a joke, Y/n. You and Georgie are falling all over each other making it so obvious.”
“No we are not.” I fought back.
Ashley finished her drink, sending me a smirk. “You totally are.”
“I don't know what you are talking about.” I denied what my friends were saying.
Hannah taunts me. “What if I told you that he was dating Veronica and didn't tell you?”
“He wouldn't dare!” Stomping my feet on the ground my voice raised in anger.
Hannah waved her fingers in my face. “That proves it.”
“You totally like him!” Hannah and Ashley squealed at the top of their lungs, jumping around me in a circle.
Ryker came over to the three of us, Georgie and Marlowe following suit in his steps. “So birthday girl, you down for some football?”
“I'm a Texas girl. What kind of question is that? Of course I'm down. After drinks and pizza though, deal.”
Ryker stuck out his fist and I bumped mine with his. “Deal.”
Our group of six got settled on some lawn chairs around a fire that Marlowe got started since his parents had taught him the most about wilderness survival.
Leaning back in my chair I opened another drink Georgie was sitting beside me and we were just enjoying the sounds of nature. I glance over to him with the corner of my eye noticing that he was staring at me and I just now had noticed he had been. “What ya looking at me for, Cooper?”
“I got ya something for your birthday.” He reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out something.
I trailed off until he held it up in the firelight. “Georgie, you didn’t have to get me anything. The surprise was enough - oh wow it's beautiful.” He turned out to be holding up a necklace that was a Locket which had a picture of us when we were really little all hugging up on each other.
Georgie nervously smiled. “So you like it?”
“I love it. Thank you.” I got up from my chair flinging my arms around his neck hugging him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist tugging me down to sit on his lap. We held onto the other for a few minutes until he mumbled into my hair and I drew back to look him in the face. “Happy birthday, darling.” Biting my lip I soon realized that we were extremely physical close to each other, which normally wouldn’t have been a problem if we weren’t in a very romantic setting sitting together around the fire and the rest of our friends were over by the coolers with drinks and snacks away from the burning fire.
“Georgie…” I mumbled his name slowly leaning down and he to my surprise leaned up looking like he was going to kiss me.
But the moment was short lived when Marlowe came running over to us. “Hey, you guys ready to play footbal”
“Yeah sure.” Georgie and I separated and I scrambled off his lap, catching sight of us both blushing. Yet I brushed it off going over to hang out with our friends with the idea still in the back of my mind that I almost kissed my best friend.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
Tags just ask - @lover-of-books-and-tea @bvbwestfall @bubble-blu @liesanddreams @bethanymccauley @skeletonontheroad
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hanniiesuckle17 · 3 years
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Milk
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A/n: This was not requested but I hope you feel better piper <3 I love you! This is for you :) (This is not thoroughly edited like always)
Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @leggomylino​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @skzwriternet​
Warnings: just fluffy shy seungmin
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: After moving into a apartment building, Y/n finds a new friend in the stray cat in the alley behind her. She doesn’t realize someone has been admiring her kindness to the animal from afar. Sometimes a small act of kindness leads to a happiness that can last a life time. 
Genre: fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, neighbor!au, fem reader
Living in a tiny rundown apartment building was not my first choice. Nor was it my second or third or fourth or fifth or two hundredth. But being a struggling student living on my own for the first time didn’t leave me with many other options. The room was cheap and had all the amenities I needed. There was a bus line to the college only a short walk away. An added bonus was the fried chicken place just a few blocks away from the building. 
But, the heating often cut out. My landlord was less than kind. The couple living above me procreated like rabbits and the ceiling did nothing to muffle the noise. The neighbors next door were quiet for the most part. I had yet to meet the tenants in the rooms on either side. 
With the spring semester just around the corner, students flocked to the class registers. Spots filled up quickly leaving me with early morning classes. What a bummer. I was not the biggest morning person. I preferred to stay up at night and sleep until I physically couldn't anymore. 
Sleepily pulling my shoes on, I grabbed my backpack and walked out the door. The sun had just risen and a still orange pink glow was cast over the small cramped street. A small sound had me turning my head towards the alley next to my apartment building. 
Having a few minutes to spare before my bus arrived, I peeked around the corner searching for the sound. Just as I was about to turn around, a cat peeked its head out from behind the building’s dumpster. It slinked around the metal container, its thin body shifting from side to side as it walked. 
“Hi, there little guy!”
Slowly and carefully I approached the stray. It had spotted gray and white fur practically clinging onto its bones. It watched me with fear in its dull blue eyes. The small creature flinched as I reached out my hand for it to smell. It eyed me for a few moments before backing away and hiding under the dumpster. 
“Okay bud...that’s okay. When I come back I’ll bring you a little treat!”
As I was walking away, a sound from above made me jump. Looking up I saw a window on my story close, long slender fingers pulling it in. Thinking nothing of it I turned around and made my way to the bus stop. In my mind I made a mental note to pick something up to give to the little cat in the alley. 
The shop bell rang as I exited the establishment. It was already beginning to get dark and the streetlights were casting a yellow golden glow in circles on the cramped street. Plastic bag in hand I walked back towards home, the scent of fresh fried chicken floating up to my nose. 
As I approached the building instead of going in I walked passed and turned down into the alley. The street lamp cast a small glow allowing me to see through some of the dark shadows. 
“Here kitty kitty! Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Hearing a can roll across the pavement I saw the thin feline emerge from under the trash container. Its ears twitched and its nose rose in the air smelling the fried food I carried. Crouching to its level I stayed in the lightest part of the alley and pulled out a piece of the fried chicken I had picked up only a few minutes ago. 
Intriguided by the food, the cat slowly inched its way to the oustretched snack. It sniffed the chicken before it’s pale pink nose brushed over my finger taking in my scent. Staying perfectly still I let it nibble on the chicken for a moment. “You’re too cute.” Seeing the cat begin to struggle with the food, I pulled it back and starting tearing it into pieces for him. 
“What should I call you little guy?” 
The cat’s fear of me seemed to have disappeared as he snacked on the chicken. Hesitantly, I reached out and stroked his head only receiving a tiny flinch from the animal. “You’re quite small aren’t you?” The cat continued to eat the chicken with vigor. Grabbing a bottle of water and a paper plate from the restaurant, I poured some for the cat to drink. “How about Makki?” 
The gray cat already looked much happier than when I had first seen him this morning. As I reached out to stroke his fur, he did not flinch away. “Do you like chicken Makki?” He let out a gravely meow before turning back to his grand meal. 
My fingers felt the grooves of his ribs as I pet his side. I smiled feeling Makki’s rough tongue over my other hand. My attention was dragged away from the cat when I heard the scuff of a shoe not far away. At the entrance of the alley looked a boy maybe my age. His body faced the building but his eyes stayed trained on me over the black mask he wore. 
His shaggy brown hair had a golden glint under the street light. His hands were tucked firmly in his jean pockets giving him a cold sort of look. Lifting my hand from Makki’s back I shyly waved to the boy. As if he came out of a trance, the boy walked away from the alley on his resumed path. 
Choosing to ignore the awkward encounter (I admit that it would be weird to see a girl just sitting in an alley with a cat), I watched Makki finish off the pieces I tore. He rubbed up against my legs and let me scratched his ears. 
“Okay, Makki! I’ve got an essay to write. I’ll bring you some breakfast tomorrow, okay buddy?” With a sad meow, he tried to follow me out of the alley but sat at the entrance and watched me walk into the building.  I watched him list his head from the alley and gave him a little wave goodbye before going in for the night.
After a few months of taking care of him, Makki was basically my own. Every morning and every night without fail I would stop by and spend time with Makki. When I could afford it, I brought him chicken. He seemed to always love that. 
As finals inched closer, I couldn’t see him as much as I wanted to. Studying took up most of my nights and I was forced inside my tiny apartment, headphones only half blocking out the noise from the faulty pipes and my upstairs neighbors. 
One night I glanced over at the clock seeing it was only 10:00 pm. “I have some left overs I’m sure Makki would like.” Aware that I needed a break, I got up and stretched before heating up some leftover dinner for my little cat. Slowly he had gotten to a healthy size and I could no longer see his ribs under his spotted gray and white coat. I didn’t have to keep feeding him, but Makki seemed like my only friend as of late. 
Grabbing a bowl and filling it with water I ventured downstairs and into the lobby. A slightly familiar face was entering the building doors, keys in hand. He looked up, our eyes meeting. Those dark, almost black, eyes looked familiar, reminding me of a puppy. The brunette’s eyes widened in recognition seeing me. The boy from the street. He had a handsome face, the light locks highlighting the angles and tone of his features. In all honesty he was more than likely the most handsome man I had ever seen. 
He looked me up and down before his soft eyes fell onto the dishes in my hand. When his eyes returned he gave me a small smile and a hesitant wave. Without another word he walked past me up the stairs. 
Using my shoulder to open the door, the cool spring night air greeted me. My shoes scraped against the downhill pavement as I turned the corner into the alley. To my surprise, Makki sat in the middle of the backstreet, drinking from a saucer full of milk. Beside the bowl was a plate with little pieces of fried food. Inching closer, I saw it was fish. 
Someone had already fed him.
“Hey, buddy!” Makki greeted me with a friendly meow brushing up against my legs. “Looks like someone already fed you, huh?” I asked in confusion. No one had ever shown interest in him before. Why had they started to take care of Makki now?
Pursing my lips, I set down the dishes and watched Makki eat and drink, petting him occasionally. “Their supper is a little but better than mine, huh?” He only responded my digging in more to the fish. “I’ll bring you chicken next time, Makki.” I watched him eat the food before the slender cat climbed into my lap, begging for me to pet him. 
It was getting late and Makki was practically falling asleep in my lap. I had already asked my landlord if I could bring him inside, but Mr. Kwon hated pets. Carefully putting Makki on the makeshift bed I had made him out of a thrown out chair, I brushed myself off before looking at the mostly clean dishes on the ground. 
Logically, whoever fed Makki would have to come back for the dishes. Finding a semi clean piece of paper and grabbing the pen in my pocket I wrote a little note to the kind soul who helped out my little cat. ‘Thank you for taking care of Makki! It means a lot. - Apt.306B’. Placing the note in the dry milk saucer, I left the alley to go back to my essay. 
For the next few nights every time I went down to fed Makki, a bowl of milk and usually a small plate of food was already there. Curiosity eating me up, I decided to catch Makki’s mystery feeder. 
The next night, forgoing my term paper, I parked myself at my window overlooking the alley. Finally the sun went down and I watched from my slightly air conditioned perch for the kind soul feeding my feline child. Just as I was losing hope a head of light brown hair rounded the corned into the back alley, a bowl of milk in hand. 
“I GOT HIM! YES!” I cheered. “I got you! I got you!” I sang dancing around. Rushing out the door, I took the stairs two at a time just to burst out the lobby doors onto the street. Out of breath but with a smile I rounded the corner, hand holding me steady on the brick wall of the building. 
“So it was you!” I said happily, scaring the boy crouched down next to Makki. Those same dark puppy like eyes looked up at me in surprise. He seemed at a loss for words, frozen, long slender fingers over over the cat’s head. “I never would have guessed! I mean that day in the lobby, maybe, but it just didn’t cross my mind.” 
The boy continued to stare at me, less in shock now, but the expression I could not decipher. “Um...I’m from apartment 306.” I smiled seeing Maki next to the boy drinking the white treat. Giving him a kind smile, I reached out my hand for him to shake. 
Shyly, he took my hand and shook it. “Yeah...I know.” Under the yellow glow of the street light I looked over his handsome features once more. “I’m...uh...I’m 304.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. After all this time, this was how I met my next door neighbor. “Finally I get to meet you. I’ve been wondering who was living next door.” The boy seemed to relax, letting out a small laugh. “What’s your name?” 
He seemed surprised as I moved to sit down next to him. Makki climbed into my lap and on instinct I started scratching his ears. “Seungmin, Kim Seungmin. And you?”
“Y/n L/n.” 
I laughed as he awkwardly moved to shake my hand again. “He’s really a good cat.” Seungmin said petting Makki’s gray fur. I nodded and turned to see Seungmin already looking at me. 
“Why did you start feeding him by the way?”
The handsome boy shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “This is going to sound way creepy. I swear it was a coincidence.” Urging him to continue with a smile, I continued stroking Makki’s head. Occasionally my arm brushed up against Seungmin’s as it moved. “I actually saw you from my window. Then we ran into each other on the street that night.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question Seungmin.” I would be lying if I said that his smile didn’t make my heart skip a beat. It melted even more seeing him pet the almost sleeping cat in my lap.
“Yeah about that.” His long finger reached up and scratched his brow before returning to Makki’s ears. “That night I just thought you were really, really pretty. I liked seeing how kind you were to the cat and watching you play with him.” His hand accidentally brushed mine and his cheeks reddened. They darkened even more when I didn’t pull away.
“Go on,”
“One day you stopped coming. I figured something came up because you cared about the cat so much. So, I just tried feeding him. I got scratched more than a few times in the beginning.” Seungmin laughed, instinctively rubbing his arms where Makki must have nicked him. “Eventually he warmed up to me and I saw why you loved him so much. Then you left me that note. It was by far the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Well you certainly are not what I expected to find when I wanted to search for Makki’s secret milk source.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever bought so much milk.”
The two of us laughed and continued to sit and talk in the alleyway. “Thank you again, for feeding him while I had term stuff.” Seungmin shrugged and looked over at me. 
“It was nothing.” It was hard to stifle the laugh at his attempt of being nonchalant. “You know, I could talk to Mr. Kwon about letting you bring Makki into the building...” 
My eyes widened and I instinctively hugged my cat to my chest. “Really! You would do that? Wait- how would you even do that. That man has zero soul. Like no soul at all. Completely soulless.”
He chuckled at my joke, brown hair blowing gently in the night breeze. “I have my ways. If I do...would you do something for me?” His bright smile lit up the night watching me nod excitedly. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”
Seungmin seemed to hold his breath waiting for my answer. “Are you asking me or are you saying that is your condition for talking to Mr. Kwon?” Seungming squinted his eyes and looked off into the distance for a moment in thought.
“Oh.....you’re right.......You will have dinner with me tomorrow.”
“Woah, slow down there, buddy. I barely know you!” 
“Arrrrghhh,” Seungmin groaned covering his face and lying on the cement in frustration. I couldn’t help but laugh at his vexation. “Why is asking you out so hard?”
“I’m just teasing. Of course I’ll get dinner with you.” With a sigh of relief, Seungmin sat up with a smile. “With a face like that who spends that much milk money on someone else’s cat, how could I not want to go out with you?” Seungmin helped me up from the ground, holding onto my hand even when I was standing. 
“Good. Cause I was very nervous you’d say no.”
“Look at me. I’ve fallen for the milk man,” Seungmin groaned at my terrible joke but kept out hands intertwined as we walked back into the building with Makki under my arm. I had never been filled with more joy than in that moment. 
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longitudinalwaveme · 4 years
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Nightmare
“You stupid, worthless brat! How am I supposed to get ahead in life with you and your sister dragging me down? If it weren’t for the two of you brats, I’d be living like a king!” Leonard Snart doesn’t move a muscle. Despite being twelve years old, practically an adult, his father is still twice his size and over four times his weight, so fighting back would be pointless.
“Well, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
“No, sir.” Trying to defend himself will just make his father angrier.
“I should just throw you both out to fend for yourselves! Maybe then you ungrateful brats would learn to appreciate me! After all, if it weren’t for me, you’d both be dead in a gutter! Nobody else wants garbage like you.” When Leonard fails to respond, his father punches him in the stomach, then slings him over his shoulder. Leonard doesn’t react until he realizes that his father is heading for his sister’s room. Then, in desperation, he bites his father’s hand, producing a yowl of pain. Unfortunately, the bite doesn’t deter his father from his intended destination, and he storms into Lisa’s room, shakes her awake violently, and then grabs her as well. She immediately starts crying, and her tears only come faster when her father shakes her in an attempt to shut her up. Leonard tries to calm her down, but in his position, there’s not much he can do. His father opens the door to their trailer and violently deposits Leonard and Lisa on the front step.
“See how you like living without me!” his father yells before slamming the door. Leonard tries to open the door, but it doesn’t budge, and he starts to panic. His father has locked him and his little sister outside their home at three in the morning! What is he supposed to do? He can’t go to the neighbors-they all think he’s a juvenile delinquent-and he can’t call CPS because if he does, he and his sister will be separated and he’ll be thrown in jail just like his dad had told him. His sister starts crying again. He doesn’t think she fully understands what’s going on yet, but she can clearly tell that something is wrong.
“Shh….I’m here, Lisa. I’m not gonna let nothin’ bad happen to you, sis.” She hugs him, clinging to his thin frame as though her life depends on it, and asks,
“Are we in trouble again?” Leonard nods.
“Dad locked us out of the house,” he says, trying not to sound panicked.
“Is he gonna let us back in?” Leonard shrugs.
“I dunno, baby sis. I hope so.” At that, Lisa starts crying again.
“Shh...sis, we’ll be okay. Just pretend we’re having a campout.”
“Like the one Barbie had on TV?” Leonard grins.
“Yeah, just like that. Only ours’ll be better, ‘cause ours has us.” Lisa smiles.
“Okay, then why don’t we sleep over there?” she asks, pointing at a pile of leaves.
“Looks good to me, little sis.” He leads her over to the pile, takes off his shirt, and hands it to her.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s your sleeping bag. You can’t have a campout without one.”
“But where’s yours?
“I don’t need one, ‘cause I’m a man,” Leonard replies. He doesn’t want her to worry about him, and besides, tough guys like him don’t need sleeping bags, so it’s not a lie.
“Okay, Lenny.” Lisa lies down, and Leonard spreads his shirt over her.
“Good night, little sis.”
“Wait! Lenny, could you tell me a story before I go to sleep?”
“I guess so. What do you want me to tell you about?”
“The one with the princess and the superheroes!” Leonard manages not to groan, but it’s a close thing. Lisa asks for this story all the time, and it’s hard to tell. Superheroes might exist, but they don’t care about trailer trash like the Snarts. Why get her hopes up? But then again, it isn’t like he can refuse his little sister, so he launches into his story.
“Okay, so once upon a time, in a faraway place like New York, there was a beautiful princess named Lisa. Now, like all princesses, Lisa was smart and nice and all those things girls like to be called, but she had a problem- a big one. You see, when she was just a little baby, her kingdom-which I think is like a really old city-was cursed, so everybody and their Aunt Mariah forgot that she was their princess, and her loving mom and pop were replaced by a loose lady and an ogre who drank too much. The lady ran away, and the ogre was real, real mean to her and beat her up all the time for stupid reasons. Oh, and he also made her do chores and stuff, like cleaning up all his beer bottles while he was watching football.”
“How could he be watching football? Princesses don’t have TVs!” Leonard sighs.
“Okay, then he watched it with his crystal ball. Anyways, as bad as things were, the princess did have one friend. Before the curse, he’d been preparing to be a knight, but the curse had made him forget who he was, so he thought he was her brother and didn’t know how he was supposed to protect her from the ogre anymore.”
“What was the knight’s name?”
“Uh, his name was, uh….Sir Leo, the knight of, uh, Cold, and he could shoot ice! I mean, before the curse made him forget how. So anyway, Sir Leo and Princess Lisa were in a huge mess, and after years of living under the curse, they had given up on ever getting out. But that all changed when a superhero named-which one do you want?”
“The Flash.” Leonard nods, unsurprised. Jay Garrick has always been his sister’s favorite, probably because he lives near Central City just like them.
“Okay, so the Flash arrived to break the spell, and he did by, uh, running really fast. And then he punched the ogre in the face and gave the princess her real parents back, and she and the knight, who had his powers back and could protect her now, lived happily ever after. The End.”
“Thanks, Lenny,” Lisa says drowsily. Five minutes later, she’s fast asleep. Upon realizing that his sister is unconscious, Leonard finally allows himself to panic again. What’s he going to do if his father doesn’t let him and his sister back inside? It’s already October-if it gets much colder, Lisa could freeze to death. He wants to start crying, but doesn’t. Twelve-year-old boys-men-don’t cry. Ever. Instead of crying, Leonard decides to get angry. Someday, his father will pay for all the stuff he put Lisa through. He’s gonna pay-Leonard will make sure of that. With his tears firmly under control, Leonard falls asleep, determined to prove that he’s stronger than his father. The next morning, Leonard wakes up to find his sister still sleeping peacefully, her blonde hair a rather tangled, leaf-filled mess. In fact, she looks so happy that he almost hates to wake her, but if he doesn’t, she’ll be late for school.
“Lisa, wake up!” Her eyes flutter open.
“Good morning, Lenny.” Leonard pulls her to her feet and carefully brushes the leaves off of her, then takes his shirt back and puts it on.
“So, did you like the campout?” She nods.
“You’re the bestest big brother in the world.” Leonard smiles. If she’s happy, he’s happy. He leads her to the door of their trailer and turns the handle, and, thankfully, the door opens. The pair slip inside and find their father passed out on their couch, beer bottles strewn all over the floor and the TV still blaring. Leonard sneaks over to the couch, slides the remote out of his father’s hand, and turns off the TV. He proceeds to start picking up the bottles his father had left lying around. A few minutes later, he is joined in this endeavor by his sister, who is smaller and can more easily reach the bottles that had somehow ended up under furniture. About ten minutes later, the pair have successfully cleaned up the living room, and Leonard starts making breakfast.
“Go get dressed for school, Lisa.” Lisa obeys and vanishes into her room. While she gets dressed, Leonard finishes making cereal and sets the two bowls on the table. After doing this, he goes to the refrigerator, grabs the package of beer bottles, and fills all but one of them with water. If he only drinks one today, he’ll be sober enough to go to work tomorrow. Lisa returns from her room in a t-shirt and jeans long enough to cover the scars on her legs, and they both sit down at the table and start eating.
“Is Daddy all right?”
“Yeah, he’s fine.” They spend the rest of the meal in silence, and then Leonard takes the dishes to the sink and instructs his sister to brush her teeth, which she does. He washes the dishes, puts them away, and then pulls out his math homework that was due two weeks ago. His teacher had been bothering him about it on Friday, and he can’t afford any more trouble at school. The principal had already made it clear the last time he’d gotten detention (for mouthing off) that if he was sent to the office one more time, he’d be expelled, and if that happens, he’ll be stuck at home with his father all day. Stupid school. It isn’t like he is going to benefit from school anyway-he’d heard one teacher tell another that he’d never make it through high school-so why do they force him to come? School doesn’t make him any money, so how do they expect him to support his sister? He needs a job, not algebra. After a minute or so of struggling, he gives up and decides that he will just take another F. It isn’t like he’s going to pass the class anyway. Just then, his sister returns with her backpack and asks him to walk her to school. He does, and about twenty minutes later, he is waving good-bye to her as she enters her second-grade classroom. He leaves the building and walks to the middle school.
“Hey, Leonard,” another kid says. Leonard nods in greeting but doesn’t reply. There’s no point in trying to make friends when your dad’s got a rap as the town drunk and a thief, so he never really talks to anyone except when he needs to prove how tough he is when he gets into fights with other kids. His day goes pretty typically until math class. Normally, it is his least favorite class of the day (because it’s at the end of the day), but today, when he asks his teacher to just give him an F on the assignment and expel him already at the end of the class (after sleeping through the rest of it), the teacher doesn’t yell at him, call him a punk kid, or expel him. Instead, he gives Leonard an odd look and asks him to sit down. Leonard obeys reluctantly.
“Is everything all right at home, Leonard? I know you and I have never gotten along well, but lately I’ve noticed that you’ve come in with bruises and odd-looking marks on your arms fairly regularly, to say nothing of how tired you always seem to be. Is something wrong?” Leonard freezes. How had he failed to realize that his injuries hadn’t been covered up adequately? If he’s not careful, the teacher might call CPS and then he’ll lose Lisa forever.
“What, are you stupid or something? Don’t you know that I’ve been sent to the office for fighting three times already?” No one really cares about him, so he might as well make sure that this guy stops pretending to.
“Leonard, no one gets injuries that look like belt marks from fist fights.”
“Belt marks? What���re you talking about?” Leonard asks, before rattling off a string of swear words. In response, the teacher gently rolls up his left sleeve, revealing several barely-healed scars from his father’s belt. Leonard’s mind whirls as he tries to come up with a plausible explanation for the marks, but before he can, the teacher asks,
“Leonard, who did this to you?” Leonard swears again and looks at the floor, trying not to meet his teacher’s gaze.
“Look, sir, it was nothing. I did it to myself for a dare, that’s all.” In response, his teacher rolls up his other sleeve, revealing marks from a hand clearly much larger than Leonard’s own.
“Is your father doing this to you?”
“Yeah, but it ain’t none of your business. I’m just an idiot, that’s all. If I wasn’t such a delinquent, he wouldn’t have to keep me in line. I’m just garbage, okay? I deserve everything I get,” Leonard replies, parroting his father. If the teacher believes him, he can go home and take care of his sister. So, even though his dad would’ve beaten him if he’d been a goody-good like that Barry Allen guy in ninth grade, he is perfectly willing to use his father’s words if it gets him out of his current situation. Lisa is probably worried about him.
“Leonard, no one deserves to be beaten so badly that they’re still black and blue days later. I agree that your behavior could use a lot of improvement, but I would never lay a hand on you unless you were to threaten the life of me or another student, and I have no reason to believe that you would do that. Your father is wrong to treat you the way he does.” Leonard shrugs.
“Maybe. But sir, you’ve gotta keep quiet about this. If you call CPS, I’ll be separated from my sister and they’ll put me in jail or something.”
“Who told you that?”
“My dad. I mean, he ain’t a great guy, but he used to be a cop, so he would know.” The teacher frowns and shakes his head.
“If your father told you that, he’s lying to you. CPS isn’t going to send you to jail-in fact, I don’t know if they even have the power to do that.”
“Look, sir, everything’s fine at home! Please don’t tell anyone about this-please. I don’t want to lose my sister.” His teacher sighs.
“Very well. But if I see you with injuries like that again, I will call CPS.”
“Whatever,” Leonard replies. He mutters a few more swear words and leaves the room, hoping that his teacher is angry at him now and determined to keep his injuries covered from now on. He leaves the middle school and picks up Lisa, then asks,
“So, sis, how’d your day go?” In response, Lisa frowns.
“Lydia Brown made fun of my clothes again and said that her mommy had told her that I was trash and would probably rob the whole class blind,” she says sadly.
“It’ll be okay, Lisa. When you’re bigger and become super famous, she’ll regret making fun of you. Besides, her older brother is in my grade, so I’ll just tell him to tell her not to mess with you, or he’ll have to answer to me.”
“Thanks, Lenny. You’re as brave and heroic as the Flash.” The two walk home to find their father gone. Leonard breathes a sigh of relief. Since he isn’t here, Lisa’ll be able to do her homework. Lisa sits down at the kitchen table and pulls out a math sheet, and Leonard starts making dinner. He’s still making spaghetti when Lisa asks him for help.
“Lenny, what’s nine minus four?”
“Five.” Despite his math grades, Leonard is actually really good at figuring. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t be able to buy groceries and help his father pay the bills. He wonders what his teachers would think of that. After all, they all think he’s a stupid delinquent. None of them would ever guess that he’s responsible for taking care of his little sister, and he prefers it that way. Mockery is better than pity. Five minutes later, Lisa finishes her homework and Leonard finishes cooking the spaghetti and puts it in the fridge. This accomplished, he puts the clothes in the washing machine and then asks Lisa what she wants to do.
“Can we play dolls, Lenny?” Leonard groans. He hates playing with dolls, but he can’t disappoint his little sister. Except for their grandfather, who’s in the hospital, he’s all she has.
“Sure, sis.” The two of them get out Lisa’s collection of dolls (the majority of which come from either Goodwill or social service people who felt bad for her) and he asks,
“So, little sis, what do you want them to do?” Lisa grins.
“Let’s have Lydia (the creepy-looking porcelain doll she’d insisted he purchase at Goodwill) and Mariah (a rag doll with red hair) have a tea party and then go visit Tina (a Barbie doll with very short hair thanks to the previous owner cutting most of it off).” If it were up to Leonard, he would have all the dolls punch each other, but then again, he’s a man. Men don’t play with toys like little kids do.
“Sounds great, little sis.” An hour later, the game has somehow morphed into a really weird Star Wars parody featuring a female Flash (played by a knock-off Barbie) fighting the evil empire, which was lead by an evil emperor named Lewis (who was played by a cracked lawn gnome that had also been a Goodwill purchase), and both Leonard and Lisa have collapsed into uncontrollable giggling because Lisa had had the female Flash declare that she would defeat Lewis by vibrating him through a wall and then making him clean up all his beer bottles, only to realize how weird that sounded and declare that she wanted a do-over.
“Little sis, you’re the greatest,” Leonard says after he stops laughing-only to freeze in fright when he hears the door slam open and then slam shut.
“Leonard! Lisa! Get in here now!” The two rush to the door and find their father standing there with a bottle in his hand. He swears violently, slaps Leonard hard across the face, and then calls him a name that had gotten him suspended for three days when he’d used it at school. Lisa shrieks and clings to him, and he sighs and wonders how it’s possible that his father is drunk again when he’d made sure that only one of the bottles had had alcohol in it.
“So, you think you’re pretty smart, don’t you, you little punk? You filled my drinks with water and made me buy more to replace them. You moron! If it weren’t for you wasting my money, I’d be a millionaire, but no, I had to have a dirty, no-good punk kid instead! You’re supposed to respect me, not waste my money, you stupid brat! And now you’ll pay.” Leonard sighs and goes to fetch his father’s belt. Hopefully, it won’t hurt too much this time. Then his father grabs his shoulder and violently stops him in his tracks.
“No. I got a more effective way of punishing you.” He smashes his beer bottle on the counter and motions Leonard towards him. Leonard complies, unsure of what his father plans to do but too afraid to anger him. His father raises the bottle and brings it down hard across his arm, creating a spurt of blood. Then he shoves him into the counter and punches him in the ribcage. Leonard glances at his sister. She looks terrified, but hasn’t been hurt. Good. Leonard braces himself and his father gives him a black eye, then hits him with the bottle again, drawing more blood.
“Look, Dad, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I-I just wanted you to be happy, and you don’t seem very happy when you’re drunk.” He doesn’t really think he did anything wrong, but his father is scaring Lisa, so if he can bring the punishment to an end by apologizing, he will.
“You’re sorry? That don’t change a thing, you little sissy! You’re a sniveling little coward and I wish that you’d never been born!” He hits Leonard in the mouth, and Leonard tastes blood.
“Dad...please….”He has to protect Lisa!
“Shut up, you worthless yellow-bellied ninny!” His father raises the bottle to hit Leonard again, but suddenly, Lisa runs into his path and receives the full blow from the bottle. It opens up her shoulder and blood spurts everywhere.
“LISA!” His sister doesn’t reply. His father is right. He really shouldn’t have been born. If it wasn’t for him, Lisa wouldn’t be bleeding.
“You...you hurt Lisa!” he yells at his father.
“And if you don’t behave, I’ll do it again the next time. Maybe threatening to hurt her for your mistakes will make you give me some respect.” Leonard’s eyes widen in fear. Most of the time, he doesn’t know why his father gets angry at him. If his father starts hurting Lisa for his mistakes, he’ll never forgive himself.
“Dad, please don’t do that. Please, leave her alone! I promise I’ll never, ever sass you again, I swear. Just don’t hurt her again!” His father scowls.
“Whatever.” He looks over his daughter, then says,
“She’ll be fine. I know somebody who can stitch her up-and boy, if you even think about calling 911, I’ll tell them that you attacked her.” Leonard nods. He’ll never call 911 anyway, because if he ever does, he’ll lose Lisa. His father takes Lisa away a few minutes later, leaving Leonard alone with his thoughts. His little sister is hurt because of him, and he’s terrified. What if she dies? What if someone finds out what happens and he is separated from her? What if she decides she hates him for not protecting her? How much money is the surgery going to cost? How can he possibly trust himself to protect her after this? His father is right-he is worthless, and he always will be. He contemplates calling 911 so that Lisa will be taken away from their father, but quickly decides against it. Lisa will be terrified if she’s separated from him, and besides, what if the police believe his father and put him in jail? His grandfather will be so disappointed if that happens. Instead of calling 911, he grabs his father’s broken bottle and deepens the cut in his arm. If Lisa has to bleed, he should, too. Two hours later, his father returns with Lisa, dumps her on the floor, and demands dinner. Leonard gets the spaghetti out of the fridge, heats it up, and places it on the table. His father starts eating mechanically, and Leonard runs to Lisa. Much to his relief, her eyes flutter open after a few seconds, and she bursts into tears.
“Daddy hit me!” she wails. Leonard checks her shoulder and sees that it has been awkwardly stitched together. His heart breaks for her. Why does his little sister have to live like this when she’s done no wrong? She isn’t a delinquent like him or a drunk like his Dad. She doesn’t deserve this pain and poverty. Why has she been left with only a delinquent punk kid to raise her?
“Get your sister to stop crying or I’ll give you both something to cry about!” Leonard winces at the sound of his father’s voice and starts hushing his sister. About a minute later, she’s stopped crying and asks,
“Are you okay, Lenny?”
“Don’t worry about me, sis. I’m fine. How are you? Are you all right? Do you need anything? I’m so sorry that I let you get hurt.” His little sister isn’t supposed to worry about him.
“I’m….okay. Is Daddy still mad at us?”
“I dunno.” Leonard replies. He rocks her for a few minutes, and then his father finishes his meal and turns on the TV, then walks over to the couch and collapses on it. Leonard cleans up his plate, tells Lisa to eat, and then puts the wet laundry in the drier.
“Get me a beer, boy.” Leonard sighs and hands his father a can from the fridge, then joins his sister at the table and eats dinner. A few minutes later, Lisa finishes her food and tiptoes off to her room, and then Leonard finishes eating, cleans up the plates, puts away the laundry, and  goes to Lisa’s room to help her plan her outfit for tomorrow. He leaves the room while she changes into her PJs, then helps her brush her teeth and tucks her into bed.
“Can you tell me another story, Lenny?”
“Sure, Lisa. What about?”
“Maybe one about some beautiful imaginary creature, like a fairy or a unicorn or a nice mommy who actually lives with her kids.” Leonard almost swears, but catches himself. Why does his sister have to live without a mother? What has she done?
“Okay, sis. Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Lisa, and her brother, Leonard. They lived in Central City and they were the best of friends, but they had a problem-their parents didn’t want them, and neither did anyone else, because they were poor and people thought they were bad and mean just like their Dad was, and their Grandpa was too sick to help them. But then, one day, Lisa met a nice man and lady while she was ice skating. They were really impressed by her, so they asked her who she was, and soon they became friends with her, and when they learned that nobody wanted her and that he dad was loud and angry all the time, they called the police and he got taken away forever, and then she and her big brother got adopted by them and lived happily ever after.”
“And they had a pony and their house was made of candy!”
“And that. The end.”
“You’re the bestest storyteller ever, Lenny.” A few seconds later, she’s asleep, and Leonard kisses her on the head.
“Love you, sis.” He leaves her room and goes back to the living room, where his father is still drinking. Someday, he’ll make his father regret this day, when he gets older and can fight him. Someday, Lisa will have everything she wants. But it won’t come from imaginary caring parents. They don’t exist. He’s the only one who can give her her happy ending, and he will-no matter who gets in the way or what he has to do. After all, his future is doomed already. But if he can keep hers bright, he will have succeeded in protecting her, and that’s the only thing that matters. He certainly doesn’t.
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Can you pretty please write a #14 sterek Or maybe a #24 for Lydia or Allison
14. I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two.
- -
It was another usual stakeout. 
‘Usual’ meaning Stiles had gone through his snacks two hours ago and his stomach was starting to growl again. Derek hadn’t touched his protein bars and when Stiles’s stomach made a particularly loud noise, he sighed and pushed one over. Stiles crowed in triumph and took it, peeling off the wrapper.
“You know, Sourwolf,” he said, taking a large bite. “These aren’t terrible, but you should let me pick out your snacks next time.”
“You went through a bag of skittles, hot cheetoes, and a packet of Reeses in twenty minutes. I don’t want to corrupt my arteries, so no thanks.”
“But dude! The corruption is the best part!”
Derek gave him an unimpressed sideways glance. Stiles sighed and slumped deeper into his chair, peering out against the night. They were alone on the street. Nothing else moved.
“Tell me again, what are we here for? You know, other than stuffing our faces and getting bored out of our minds.”
“Jackson thinks his new neighbor is a supernatural of some kind. It’d best to check and make sure.”
“Oh yeah,” Stiles said, scratching at his nose. “Why are we listening to Jackson again? The douchebag probably just thinks his neighbor isn’t good enough to live on his block, so he’s setting the pack on the poor guy.”
Derek grunted noncommittally. Stiles sighed.
“Can we play music?”
“No.”
“Not even some of that eighties that you like so much? I’m drowning in my own thoughts, Sourwolf, this is serious. Do you know what it’s like to be stuck in my brain?”
“I’d imagine it’s a lot of bagpipe noises,” Derek said drily. “Playing all the time as loud as possible.”
Stiles glared at him. “For your information, it’s much more festive than that. Imagine dance music and flashing neon lights.”
“That sounds even worse.”
Stiles rolled his eyes and slouched down deeper into his seat. He moved to prop his feet up on the dashboard, but froze when Derek shot him a murderous look. Lowering his feet back to the ground, Stiles sighed again. Loudly. Derek’s face tightened a fraction and Stiles found that hilarious, sighing one more time.
“Stiles,” Derek said, his jaw ticking. “I’m going to gut you.”
“That’s rude.”
“I can literally hear you thinking of ways to annoy me right now. You’re not smooth.”
“Excuse me, Sourwolf, but I am thinking nothing of the sort.”
“Why did I bring you with me again?”
“Because of my charming personality and witty banter. You know the rest of the pack would let you down on both ends.”
Derek grunted. But it wasn’t a sound of denial and Stiles thought that was saying something. He grinned and tossed an arm behind his head, cracking his neck from side to side. Derek winced at that.
The werewolf was a total baby when it came to popping bones. During the time they’d spent together, Stiles had started to realize that. And he exploited every part of it.
Suddenly, the man sat up. Stiles flailed around until he was straightened too.
Coming down the driveway of the house was a shadowed figure holding a couple of large trash bags. Stiles leaned forward, but couldn’t get a good look at him. The guy looked up and down the road before dumping them into his trashcan, and then hurried out of sight. Stiles blinked a few times.
“Okay, that seemed a little suspicious.”
“He was throwing away trash.”
“He looked like he was getting rid of a dead body. Oh! Derek! What if he was getting rid of a dead body?”
Derek just rolled his eyes and turned the keys in the ignition. He kept the headlights off and drove slowly past the house; Stiles jumped out when they got close enough and flipped the trash can lid opened. Except, instead of a dead body, he was looking at… what seemed like animal entrails. A couple candles burned all the way down. And something that smelled suspiciously like wolfsbane.
Stiles gagged and stumbled back into the Camaro. Waving for Derek to start the car, Stiles breathed in and out of his mouth for a few seconds. He felt nauseous for a little longer.
“What was it?”
“Animal guts, candles, and wolfsbane. Nothing good,” Stiles said. Derek’s face tightened and he cursed.
“Warlock.”
“Dude, seriously? That’s what we’re dealing with?”
“Those things must’ve been from some sort of ritual. Nothing good comes out of warlocks and their spells.”
Nothing good came out of them for the poor animals Stiles had seen, that was for sure. He tried to shake those images from his mind, resisting the urge to gag again. Derek cast a concerned look over.
“You alright?”
“You know, it warms my heart when you care, Sourwolf.”
“I don’t care.”
“You do and I adore it,” Stiles said. Derek’s face tightened and Stiles snorted, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m fine. Tired and a little nauseous, but fine.”
“I’ll take you home,” Derek said. Stiles waved a hand through the air.
“Dad’s working a nightshift. Lemme crash at the loft.”
Derek gave him a dubious look. Stiles only rolled his eyes and shifted into a better sitting position. The wrappers of his snacks crinkled underneath his feet. 
He crashed at the loft more than he did at home lately, with his dad being loaded with longer and longer shifts. Stiles knew he was proving his worth for his badge, but he still hated coming home to an empty house. It was just too quiet.
Derek didn’t say anything, shifting lanes and heading in the other direction. Stiles grinned to himself.
He was half asleep by the time the Camaro rolled to a stop. Stiles blinked blearily against the darkness and before he knew what was happening, Derek had moved around the side of the car and opened up his door. Stiles huffed as Derek helped him out, leaning up against the man’s side.
“You’re such a softie, Sourwolf.”
“Shut up.”
“You are,” Stiles said. “The softest Sourwolf in all of Beacon Hills. No one could ever rival your gooeyness.”
Derek grunted and Stiles could practically hear him rolling his eyes, but the man didn’t say anything else. He just wrapped an arm around Stiles’s shoulder and guided him toward the loft. It was so dark out, Stiles could barely see two feet in front of him. But Derek didn’t let him trip over any of the stairs.
“Are the rest of the betas here?”
Derek tilted his head and listened for a second, then slid the loft door open. “Asleep.”
“Next time, make Isaac and Erica do the nightshift.”
“They’ll tear each other apart.”
“Yeah, but it’ll be so hilarious. I swear, they bicker like literal kids. Literal kids with claws. That’s an accident waiting to happen.”
Derek chuckled, leading him around the couch and down the hall. Stiles could hear faint snores coming from behind closed doors and for some reason, that made him smile. He nearly stumbled over his own feet, cursing loudly, and the snores paused for a second. 
Then they started again.
“You know,” Stiles said as Derek led him into the last bedroom. “If you’re not careful, I’m gonna start thinking you care about me.”
“Of course I don’t care about you. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Cause that’d be bad for your reputation, wouldn’t it?”
“Fatal.”
“You’re a real catch when you sarcastic, Sourwolf,” Stiles said sleepily. “You should be sarcastic more often.”
“But then it’d lose its charm.”
Stiles laughed quietly to himself. He’d never admit it out loud, but he treasured nights like this. The nights when they’d done too much research, stayed awake for too many hours, or chased after a monster for too many days. The nights when Stiles nudged at Derek’s walls and Derek let them down.
When Derek tucked him into bed and said soft things that he never seemed to realize Stiles listened to.
“Guess the warlock’s a tomorrow problem,” Stiles said, dropping onto the bed and burrowing into the mound of blankets and pillows. Derek climbed into bed on the other side.
“Guess so.”
“You know,” Stiles said, eyes already half-closed. “One of these days, we’re going to get out of here. A nice break from everything, when there’s no monsters or witches or warlocks to go after.”
Derek didn’t say anything. Stiles sighed into his pillow.
“Like a road trip or something.”
“A road trip.”
“Or something.”
Derek chuckled and Stiles felt gentle fingers stretch out and touch his own. He sighed in contentment and didn’t pull away; he never did. He never did and never would, and Derek knew that.
The silence passed for a long moment. Stiles steadied out his breaths and heard Derek shift around. He could feel the man’s eyes on him for a second. Lingering, quiet. He could almost taste the sadness of the man on nights like this. When sometimes he would just watch until dawn came.
“I'm gonna end up breaking your little heart in two,” Derek whispered into the darkness. Stiles’s heart twisted and after a moment, Derek settled down again.
One day, Stiles was going to prove him wrong. He’d promised himself that before and he’d keep promising until it came true. Because his heartbeat hadn’t skipped earlier; one day, they were going to leave this place. Him and Derek. Derek and him.
A road trip. Or something.
- -
I started this unsure where to go with it, but ohhhh, the soft feels hit unexpectedly. Thank you so much for the prompt, my friend, I totally loved writing the end of this one!
(Support your overcaffinated (so much so) student writer? Seriously, I’d adore you guys so much). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer
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sodalitefully · 4 years
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Rose Petals & Petty Rivalries [GNR AU, Slaxl] 🌹🌹
The Hollywood Rose is a florist, run by Axl Rose and Izzy Stradlin (in lieu of the actual owner, who never seems to make an appearance), with Duff McKagan behind the wheel of the delivery truck.  Axl likes working there; he likes the flowers, he likes the quiet, and he likes how things don’t ever change: business is slow but steady, customers are as predictable as ever… and the tattoo parlor next door is still a pain in his fucking ass.  Don’t even get him fucking started about how it scares off the Rose’s customers by attracting seedy thugs, or how the owner is a fucking creep that Axl may or may not have history with.
Seriously, don’t: Izzy might actually gouge his eyes out with plant clippers if he has to hear Axl’s rant one more goddamn time.  
Tracii Guns opened up the L.A. Guns tattoo parlor a few years ago, and he doesn’t plan on moving anytime soon, no matter how much animosity he gets from the flowerboy next door.  Business is going well for once; so well, in fact, that Tracii has decided it’s time to hire a second artist.
There’s just one problem with that: There’s only one tattoo artist in LA who is both up to Tracii’s standards and looking for a place to set up shop, and that person is Saul Hudson, better known as Slash, a talented, hotshot artist who also happens to have a rivalry with Tracii dating all the way back to their school days when they first upgraded from stick-and-pokes to cheap tattoo kits.
Tracii left his mark on more of LA’s reckless youth than Slash did in their teen years, but just barely and only because Slash was often distracted by anything from BMX to zookeeping.  He may have gotten a slower start to his career, but Slash’s talent as an artist is now making him a hot commodity in the tattooing community – If Tracii doesn’t grab him now, someone else will hire him soon enough, and Tracii can’t risk that kind of competition.  
So Tracii reaches out and Slash accepts the job offer, but that doesn’t mean their little rivalry has been resolved.  Tracii tells Slash that there’s not enough space in the tiny shop for both of their work stations on street level, so he assigns Slash the basement.  Slash actually really likes the space, once he gets it all cleared out and set up the way he likes (he calls it “the snakepit” in his head), but he’s not about to let Tracii get first pick of every customer who walks in the door.  Whenever he’s not with a client, Slash is hovering around upstairs, putting his art up on the walls, greeting potential customers from behind the counter, and generally doing everything he can to poach Tracii’s clients.  Tracii does not appreciate his efforts, but when he’s in the middle of an appointment there’s nothing he can do to stop him.  
So now Tracii has to deal with competition from his own employee (though by no means is their feud one-sided…) on top of his pissy neighbor who somehow manages to give Tracii an impressive amount of attitude while also blatantly ignoring him.  Of-fucking-couse things only get worse when the two meet.
Duff is new in town, fresh from Seattle, Washington, and working two jobs to pay for his shitty bug-infested studio apartment: by day, he drives the Hollywood Rose delivery van, and by night he waits tables at a steakhouse across town.  So he’s not entirely caught up on the details of Axl and Tracii’s bad blood, and comes into work one morning eager to show off his brand new tattoo.
He got it from an artist that his buddy Steven recommended.  “It’s just the place next door, Axl, have you gotten any of your tattoos done there?”  An innocent question, perfectly reasonable, and yet –
“…Oh.  You went there?”  Poor Duff did nothing to deserve the look of sour disdain that Axl is serving.
"Uh. Yeah, I got it done in the basement, seemed like a pretty neat place.  Why, what’s up?"
“Wait – in the basement?"
"Yeah, Ax, Tracii’s got a new hire,” Izzy threw in, still admiring Duff’s new ink – it was well done, he had to admit.  "I’m surprised you have’t seen him around, he’s pretty, uh, distinctive.  Big fluffy hair, likes jewelry and leather?"
“Izzy, that describes about half of Guns’ clientele."
“Nah, you’ll know him when you see him, trust me.”  Duff bobbed his head in agreement.
“Hm. What’s his name?”
“Slash.  He’s a nice guy, really talented –” Duff adds, but Axl has stopped listening, and started formulating a plan.
For the past two years, give or take, since L.A. Guns opened its doors, Axl has been making a point of going to any and all of Tracii’s competitors to get his ink done, without so mach as sparing a glance at the parlor next door (not counting the occasional glowering from behind slanted blinds, or fantasizing about ramming his car into Tracii’s trash bins in the shared parking lot).  But that day, Axl marches right into L.A. Guns, meets Tracii dead in the eye and demands an appointment as soon as possible – with Slash.
Tracii gapes at him for a second. The shock of seeing Axl in his shop fades quickly, replaced by an expression that broadcasts Are You Fucking Kidding Me loudly enough to be picked up by any radio antenna in a 30-mile range.
“You can’t be serious Axl.  Why don’t you go back to your fucking daffodils and leave me the fuck alone, hm?"
Axl arches a brow and opens his mouth to retort, but he’s cut off by a tangle of curly hair and bare limbs that swoops in, shoves Tracii back, and tips forward over the countertop until his frizzy bangs are inches from Axl’s face, all in one fluid rush that Axl can barely follow.
“He doesn’t want to talk to you, Guns, so why don’t you scurry off and give us a minute to take care of business?”  He doesn’t say it like a question, and he smirks when Tracii throws up his hands with a huff and stalks off to his station at the back of the room.  Once he and Axl are granted the illusion of privacy, the smirk transforms into a dazzling grin, propped up on his fist as he – Slash, obviously (Axl realizes what Izzy meant when he described the man as “distinctive”) – leans forward on the tall counter, offering Axl his best “sorry about my crazy boss now how can I help you?” look.
“So, you’re interested in a consultation appointment?"
Axl belatedly realizes that he’s blushing.  “Fluffy hair, likes jewelry and leather” was obviously an inadequate description; Izzy had failed to prepare Axl for Slash’s warm brown eyes, for the way the hoops in his ears peek out from his mass of soft-looking curls or the way his sleeveless shirt shows off the ink on his tanned arms... And that’s not to mention his beautifully infectious smile.
“Yeah,” Axl responds, his voice pitching up a bit against his will. “Maybe around this time tomorrow, if you’re available?"
Slash flips open a day planner and hovers his pen over tomorrow’s date. “How does tomorrow evening at 5:15 sound?"
“That would be great."
“And your name?"
“Axl Rose."
Slash pauses and glances down at Axl’s work clothes, lingering on the pin over his pocket with his first name and the shop logo.  He looks back up at Axl with a bemused expression. “Axl Rose? Who are you, the mascot?"
“Hey!"
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Slash giggles then manages to compose himself. “Axl Rose at 5:15,” he pens the appointment in slanted script.  “I didn’t mean to make fun… Did you do the arrangements in the front windows? They’re really beautiful."
“…Thank you.”  As a tattooed florist with anger issues, Axl is in no position to stereotype, but he still wasn’t expecting to hear that from Slash.  If he wasn’t blushing before, he certainly is now.
Tracii scoffs loudly behind Slash, and Axl’s pink flush is abruptly replaced by an angry, embarrassed red.  He hunches his shoulders and mutters a thank you when Slash slides him business card with the appointment time scribbled on the back, then heads for the door as confidently as he can manage.  This whole plan to piss Tracii off is going to backfire if he keeps getting flustered by the cute, overly-friendly new artist. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Slash calls after him cheerfully.
Slash watches him walk out the door and back towards the Rose, then finally turns around to meet Tracii’s incredulous scowl.
"You’re not really going to do a piece for him, are you?"
"Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I?"
"’Cause he’s a Grade-A fucking asshole who’s had it out for me and my shop ever since I moved in."
Slash laughs dismissively.  "You’re full of shit, Tracii, he seems like a real sweetheart to me."
Tracii snorts.  "Axl Rose, a fucking sweetheart?”
“You jealous, Guns?”
“Hardly,” Tracii says with a scowl. “He’s going to hate the tattoo and then use it as an excuse to give me even more shit than he already does. It’ll be unbearable around here with him bitching all the time.”
“You mean like how you’re bitching right now? You don’t know shit,” Slash declares, “because Axl is going to love his new ink and you’re not going to hear a thing from him except when he’s beating down our door to beg me for more.”
I’m afraid my ideas are getting predictable, but I couldn’t fucking resist.  Tagging @fan-with-issues for chatting w me about this au, and @insipidrhyme just because.
Shoutout to Tracii Guns for once again stepping in when I want to give a side character a hard time.  You’re a good sport, Trace.
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Text
Hope To See You
Characters: Jensen x Reader
A/n: Thank you @our-jensen-ackles-love​ for this little bit of inspiration. I needed it. Single!Jensen (kind of set around season 4 in my mind). Warnings: Embarrassment? Cussing? Completely un-beta’d, all mistakes are mine (and I’m tired, so there’s probably some)
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Who’s idea was this?
Who thought it was a good idea to move into a three-floor walk-up? On, like, the hottest day of the year? During the hottest part of the morning?
Finally, how on earth was it a smart decision to pack your “delicates” in a box instead of a trash bag like a normal human being? You know, one that could be tied and secured just in case said item happened to fall out of your grasp and down two flights of stairs? Also, who uses tape to make sure boxes don't open? The little foldy thing where you tuck the stupid flaps underneath each other is supposed to work to close the box. But no.
Because of your defective boxes—yes, it was the box’s fault—every bra and piece of lingerie you owned now littered the stairs of the new apartment building you were currently moving into after it bounced noisily down every step and spattered its contents everywhere as it vaulted off of every surface.
So here you were, rapidly attempting to gather your undergarments and praying to whomever was listening that your new neighbors wouldn’t peak out of their doors as you scattered passed.
This damn box managed to make it all the way to the bottom platform, so as you scrambled down the last flight of stairs with arms full of tit slingers and lacy nighties, the very last thing you wanted to see was perched on the bottom step staring dumbfounded at an array of women’s unmentionables.
A fucking gorgeous man with green eyes and perfectly tousled hair in a black t-shirt and jeans stood there with his mouth agape, “Uh… hi.” He uttered, an expression of what looked like a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
Blowing some of the hair that had managed to fall from your ponytail out of your face, you responded, “Hey. Hi. Hi.” Not entirely sure how many times you were supposed to say hello in a typical greeting, but whatevs.
His eyes stared into yours for a heavy moment before he spoke again, “Do you—do you need a hand?” Adonis dude asked.
“Um… I just kind of need that box right there.” You pointed toward the dilapidated piece of cardboard that was crumpled next to his feet.
As he bent down to retrieve it a fleeting image passed through your head of this guy leisurely walking towards the staircase twirling his keys when an explosion of lace and padding flew at him from all directions.
He unfolded the now flattened box and did the foldy thing “correctly” and allowed you to dump your armful of embarrassment into it. He graciously held the box while you hastily gathered the last few pieces and all too quickly tried to close the stupid defective thing. Granted, it seemed like he was attempting to fixate his eyesight anywhere but the thing in his hand, so at least he was gentlemanly.
You straightened your now sweat drenched tank top and brushed the hair from your eyes, “Thank you. Sorry about that.”
He laughed. Damn, how is a laugh that sexy?
“Its okay, really. Its just not everyday I come home to such interesting step decorations.”  
“Yeah.” You snickered, taking the box from his arms. “Interesting is definitely the word to describe this.”
“I’d offer to carry that for you, but uh…”
“No, that’s okay.” You huffed it onto your hip. “I’ve got it this time. I’m just going to keep both hands on it now.”
The two of you began trekking up the stairs side by side when he turned to you, “I’m Jensen, by the way.”
“Hi. I’m Y/n.”
“Nice to meet you. What apartment are you moving into?”
“3B.”
“Oh, cool. We’ll be neighbors.”
“Really?” you said, hoping to sound cool and collected, but it came out more regretful than you’d hoped.
He—Jensen, you reminded yourself—chuckled dryly and raised an eyebrow, “Do I seem that bad already?”
“No!” you all but yelled. “No, not at all. I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant that.” Damnit. Fuck. Son of a bitch. “I, uh… I’m just a little embarrassed that I’ll have to relive this awkward moment for at least a one year lease.”
“Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens.” He tried.
“Does it, now? Do you often see women slewing their most private clothing items across a very public part of their new building?” you said with a smirk, keeping your tone as light as you could to hide the dread at the recent memory.
“Well, no… but if it helps I’ll hang my laundry outside to dry if you’d like.”
You couldn’t help the giggled that escaped your lips, “Not necessary, honest. But, if you don’t mind, lets just never mention this again, please?” you asked as you reached your door, dropping the box on the ground by your feet.
“I don't know, Y/n. I may just need some conversation starters with the neighbors.”
When you whipped your head around, he was already holding his hands up in surrender, “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I won’t say anything, I swear.”
“Thanks. And thanks again for the help, Jensen—“
“Ackles.” He replied, extending a hand.
“Y/l/n.” you said, sighing a bit too deeply when his hand enveloped yours, the warmth of him seeping into your already flushed skin.
He smiled, one that made his plump lips fuse together and his dimples appear at the corners of his mouth. Of course. This is the guy that had to witness the dumpster fire that you were right now; sweating like a swamp dragon in cutoff shorts and your music festival tank top from last year and muddy chuck taylors.
When he released your sweaty palm, you opened your grey door and shoved the box of incriminating garments into your foyer, next to the plethora of other boxes you’d already brought up.
“Do you need any help bringing up your other stuff? I’m happy to help.” Jensen offered, still standing in the breezeway.
“That was actually the last box.,” you answered, shoving your hands into your pockets. “My new job hired movers for the other stuff. It got here yesterday.”
“Is that what brings you here? A new job?”
“Yeah. From the U.S. to Vancouver. Working on a show called ‘Supernatural’. I actually haven’t even seen it. My last boss recommended me for a job opening, and I guess they had a spot they desperately needed to fill, so here I am. Didn’t even have much time to research before I had to pack up and get here. I was going to binge the first season later.”
Jensen’s cheeks flushed a bit and rubbed the back of his neck shyly, “Oh, yeah. I’ve—I’ve heard of it. Let me know what you think.”
“I’ve been hearing about it since it came out a few years ago, just never got around to watching it. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
He rocked back on his heels and huffed the air from his cheeks, “Well, if you need anything, just let me know.” He began walking backwards before turning to the door directly across from yours.
“I will. Thanks, Jensen.”
“It was really nice to meet you, Y/n.” he grinned, his smile a bit too flirty to be friendly, if you were to say so yourself.
As he shut his door, you released a deep breath and let yourself into your new apartment, a bit more excited about the new chapter you were starting.
...
Later that night, after you’d mostly finished unpacking and had a very long shower, you were seated on your familiar couch with a glass of wine. Your old boss hooked you up with a copy of the first season DVDs from his own collection, so you slid it out of the small paper case and inserted the silver disc with “season 1, eps 1-5” written on it in permanent marker.
Once you pressed ‘play’, you were quickly enthralled—and heartbroken—as you saw a young father thrust a baby into another young boys arms.
“Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Don't look back. Now, Dean. Go!”
Then, about four minutes later, you were watching as Sam had a scuffle with an intruder in his apartment.
“Wait a minute.” You whispered into the empty of your own apartment.
“Easy there tiger.”
“Holy shit! That's—” You exclaimed.
After a few more scenes, you couldn’t stand it any longer.
You padded to the door in your fuzzy slippers and pj’s and flung it open, not entirely sure what you were planning to do.
Once it swung with force, you stepped into the breezeway to see a small basket sitting by your doormat. In it was a bottle of red wine, a map of Vancouver, a blanket, and a brand new copy of the first season of Supernatural, this time with a case showcasing the main actors on the sleeve cover. One of whom you now recognized as your neighbor.
An envelope sat atop the gift with a small piece of cardstock enclosed.
Y/n,
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I don't know if it was because I didn't want to scare you or if it was because I was hoping to get to know you before the ‘actor’ title set in. Meeting you today was probably one of the most interesting and exciting things to happen to me in a while. I didn’t know someone could look so beautiful flustered and stumbling down the stairs after runaway undergarments.
I’d love to take you out to dinner tomorrow night to tell you about the show and Vancouver—and, if you’re interested, we can get to know one another as well. If you’re available, I’ll meet you downstairs at 7:30.
I hope to see you.
-Jensen
“Son of a bitch.”
You picked up the basket, ran back inside, and immediately gathered an outfit for tomorrow night. Once it was laid out, you raced back to your couch and pressed play, a new spark igniting in your chest each time “Dean” appeared on your screen. 
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norixprincess · 4 years
Text
Blacked Out Part 2
Characters: Park Jinyoung (Got7), Lim Yuna (OC), Lim Jaebum, got7
Rated: 18+
Part 2 / ???
First | Second | Third 
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Yuna was at her desk cursing herself for not getting his name. He was right there and she once again didn't get to say or ask the things she wanted to. After she had saw him earlier he smiled at her "You need to be more careful," he said as he started walking away "Wait! You...what are you doing here?" He stopped and turned to her, raising a brow "I...work here? And I assume you work here as well?" Yuna nodded.
"Accounting..."
"Marketing." 
He was about to turn away again "Wait I have to ask you some things!"
"You can ask me later, I have a meeting to get to," He walked away, waving his hand back at her. Yuna sighed in defeat.
"Ugh I'm so stupid" She buried her face in her hands when her desk neighbor popped her head in "What's up?"
"Nothing, Sohee-ah don't worry about it,"
"Psh you never tell me anything, we need to have a girls night, let's go out Friday night! I heard there's a club bringing in a famous DJ, DJ...um...mash-mallow?"
"Marshmallow,"
"Right! So you heard about it?"
"Yeah, my brother has been bragging about how he booked him all month,"
"Your brother booked him?"
Yuna nodded "My brother runs that club," 
"Oh. My. God." Sohee gave a grin "Can you get me in for free...and maybe free drinks too?" Yuna rolled her eyes, everyone she ever tells always ask the same thing "No, ladies night is Wednesday night's, you want to go for free, then go then," 
"Aww come one, I thought we were close..." 
"If I do this for everyone then my brother is going to be the one who get's hurt by it and lose money, not me, the entry fee isn't even that expensive,"
Sohee pouted and sunk back into her seat "fine fine, you're right, sorry I asked," 
-----
the work day was over Yuna stayed by the building entrance hoping to catch the guy "from marketing" again. She smiled when she saw him and quickly made her way over to him "Hey! So do you have time to finally start answering questions for me?" He looked annoyed and glanced at his watch "I have an appointment with someone soon, maybe another time," Yuna grabbed his arm "Are you avoiding me or something?" Jinyoung sighed and pulled his arm away "I have an appointment, I'm not going to cancel it for you, now if you'd excuse me..." He, once again, walked away and Yuna let out another heavy sigh when another co-worker of hers came up to her "Oh my god, were you just talking to Jinyoung?"
"Jinyoung?"
"Yeah! That's Park Jinyoung, he's the head of the marketing team, he's so hot~" 
"Yeeun, you know him?"
"Yeah but he doesn't know me, a lot of girls here are head over heels for him,"
"Well I'm not, he's irritating..."
The two women began walking out of the building, making their way to parking lot "Why? Did he do something?"
"I need to ask him something important, but he keeps avoiding me..."
"Oh girl, don't worry about it, he's always busy no one ever has a chance to speak to him unless it's about business..."
"Tch, well I'm going to make sure he can't avoid me, I will keep pestering him till he gives me answers..." 
Yeeun laughed at her statement "Good luck with that, he's hard to get through to, not to mention he's pretty straight forward, so he'll probably throw some insults if he needs to," Yuna shrugged "I can take an insult...anyway see you tomorrow, drive safe," Yuna smiled and waved at Yeeun "You too!" the two separated and got into their cars.
------
In another car there was a man watching the two ladies talk, his finger tapping on the steering wheel, eyes focused on Yuna. When Yuna pulled out in her car he started following her. He kept a good distance from her car as to not catch her attention. He watched her pull into the lot of a chicken restaurant. He parked his car as well and waited for her there as she was oblivious to his presence.
Yuna grinned as she saw her old friend waiting at a table with some food already ordered, she sat across from him "Hey Mark, thanks for ordering already, I'm starving!"
"Who said this was for you, this is all mine, go get your own," He made a face at her and she rolled her eyes before grabbing a drumstick, taking a bite from it "How was work? Oh wait right, you don't work you game," 
"Hey hey hey! I'm a professional gamer! I'm making good bank, you're just jealous," 
"Mark-oppa, I-....okay maybe only a little, but you'll never meet a cute girl that way," 
"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm surrounded by cute girl," He grinned, giving her a wink. Once again, Yuna rolled her eyes.
----------
"You're going to be 26 this year, I've been letting you do as you wanted up until now, you studied what you wanted got the job you wanted you could at least do as we say and get married already,"
"Father...please I will get married but I'm still young and I'm not ready for it, just wait-"
"Wait until when? You're our only son, you don't like any of the girls we've been setting you up with, you'll never get married at this rate!"
"Mother, I'm not trying to disappoint you, of course I don't like any of those girls! They're all stuck up and full of themselves, do you get that they only care about what's in my pocket?"
"So what? All girls are like that! They need a man to support them!"
"No, you're wrong, the girls who think like that just care about being lazy and leeching off of men, I don't want a woman like that, and then they have the guts to go and have affairs as well while leeching off the one they married,"
"Jinyoung!" The woman shifted in her seat glancing over at her husband "That's right mom, I'm talking about you, every time dad leaves on a business trip you bring a young guy home or you go and fuck the CEO of C&F Hotel,"
"You what?" The man glared at his wife, "Ah Honey! He's just saying things to upset us! He saw me get picked up in his car for a dinner with him and his wife, Jinyoungie probably just misunderstood, right sweetie?" The woman desperately looked over at her son. Jinyoung rolled his eyes and got up from the dining table "All I'm saying is, you only care about your reputation and money, that's why you married off Sooyoung against her will, you know she's not happy at all right? Every time she visits me she ends up crying,"
"That girl, she visits you and doesn't even visit her own parents?"
"Mom it's because you brush her off every time she tells you about how she's suffering, you don't care about her, and every time she sees you all you do is nag and ask her to buy you things with her husbands money! She would rather stay at home and get beat up by him than see you guys,"
"That girl is just being whiny, all she does ever since she was young is complain, she probably did something for her husband to hit her,"
Jinyoung bit down his lip, clenching his fist as he held himself back from going off "Whatever, I'm done here, I'm going home," He left immediately, slamming the door shut behind him as he got into his car. He sped down the road back home, every time he visited his parents he would leave full of rage. Jinyoung was the son of a wealthy family who ran a successful hotel and resort business, they had locations all over Asia. Jinyoung never felt happy around his parents, he was close with his uncles and aunts who were much kinder and taught him everything he knew. His parents barely raised him and his younger sister, Sooyoung, they were both raised by nannies. Jinyoung was supposed to be the heir of the family business but he managed to convince his parents to allow to follow his own career path.
Well, he more like threatened them than convinced them. But that's not important. 
Jinyoung arrived back to his apartment, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge as he loosened his tie. "I should probably stop going back there," He sighed to himself after drinking from the bottle. He set himself down on the sofa, and undid the top three buttons of his shirt before resting his head back against the sofa closing his eyes. 
---------
Jinyoung stepped out of the elevator, about to make his way to his office when he noticed a group of people grouped up by the wall. "What's going on?" A young woman looked up at him "Someone posted all these pictures of one of the accountants here..." Jinyoung pushed through everyone.
"Yooo bro she's banging, think I can get her to hook up with me?"
Jinyoung stared at the pictures, they were images of the girl he ran into the previous day. Shots of her stripping off her clothes. Jinyoung clenched his fists "I call dibs man, I'm hitting her up after work," Jinyoung closed his eyes, resisting the urge to punch the man "You're all disgusting, she's not an object, these photos were clearly taken without her permission," he began to rip off the photo's from the wall and crumble them up "I don't know who did this, but this is a crime, and if I find out who did it I'll make sure to have my with them before I turn them in, seriously you're all god damn adults grow up and have some respect." 
Jinyoung tossed the images into the trash "if these images are not all gone within the next two hours I will report all of you as accomplices for sexual harassment," he left the group of people and made his way to his office. Jinyoung hated people who did stupid pranks like this. It was childish, and evil. He hated that these people were so ready to completely ruin someone's life just for their own pleasure. He's seen it happen too many times. He already knew of the girl they took photos of as well. He knew when she first started working there were rumors going around about her and how some were jealous.
That night he went to the party he saw someone slipping something into her drink, he couldn't see their face but Jinyoung stayed quickly swooped in between her and the man acting as if he was a close friend "Hey! I've been looking for you all night, glad you could make it, come with me my sister wants to meet you," He grinned at her and she blinked in confusion. He gently placed a hand at her lower back and led her out of the crowd, having her sit on the sofa, handing her a glass of water "You feeling okay? I'll take you home..."
The girl squinted "I thi-think I'm dwunk," she looked as if she was about to doze off, Jinyoung stood up and helped her up, supporting her as they walked out "I'll take you home, where do you live?" she responded but her speech was slurred "fuck...okay I'll take you back to my place then," he helped her into the passenger seat where she soon passed out. Once they arrived at his place he carried her up and set her down on his bed, keeping her on her side in case she threw up. He constantly checked on her that night to make sure she was breathing and that she was okay. He had called a family friend, a doctor, to come over and check on her as well. The doctor assured him that she was fine and to just make sure she drank water. 
And that's what he had done. He eventually fell asleep on the sofa while taking care of her.
After the photos though he had a hunch that either someone was after her or she had a stalker from the company. But then again, the two situations may have not been connected, either way, she wasn't completely safe. There was nothing he could do about it though, he was just an employee like everyone else. 
------
Yuna had seen them, the photo's, her photo's, she froze as she stared at them while everyone was busy talking between themselves about it. Her breathing grew heavier as the anxiety inside her grew. She ran to the women's bathroom and locked herself in one of the stalls. She sat down on the toilet and began to cry into her hands. She was at a loss of what to do. 
Do I just go to work and act as if nothing was going on?
No...they're probably all making fun of me right now. 
No one will see me the same again. 
How am I supposed to face everyone? I should just quit...I want to go home...
Yuna got out of the stall after a while and washed her face "I'll just go home..." She pulled her phone out and texted her manager saying she was sick before quietly making her way out to her car. "Could it have been Jinyoung? Does he have something against me?" she chewed on her bottom lip before calling her friend Mark "Oppa...I need to see you..."
"What's wrong? You can come over if you need to,"
"Okay I'm on my way,"
-------
When Mark opened the door Yuna didn't hesitate to let herself in. Mark closed the door and turned to her "Don't you have work?"
"I...don't think I can go back to work," she was fiddling with her fingers as she tried to stay as calm as she could "did you get fired?" she shook her head "then what is it?"
"Someone....someone took pictures of me undressing...they printed them out...it was all over work every-" her breathed hitched but swallowed as he tears slowly started forming again "everyone saw them, it was humiliating, I don't know what to do," she couldn't hold back anymore as she started crying again, mark quickly pulled her into a hug "do you know who did it?" she shook her head as she cried onto his shoulder. 
"That's fucked up, but you know you can't just avoid work, you have a great job at a great company..."
"I'll quit, I'll quit and find somewhere else, I don't care where I just can't face any of them again!" She pulled back to look up at him "Please don't tell Jaebum, he'd be furious and I don't want him to keep worrying about me so much..." Mark let out a soft sigh before wiping her tears away "He's going to find out eventually, you know?" She nodded and moved away from him sitting down on his sofa "I'm...for now I don't want him to know..."
Mark ran his fingers through his hair before sitting beside her "I'll help you find a new place to work,"
"Thank you..." 
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life-of-ice · 4 years
Text
Masaki Sako's Entrance Exam
@taiyuu-high-oct
Trumpets blared out from the phone.
Masaki woke up, and leaned off his be to reach for his phone to turn off all five of his alarms. He blinked blearily and squinted to try and identify the time.
Maybe it’s 10:00? God, I really need to stop being so lazy and fix the settings on my phone.
After squinting at it for a few more minutes, he shrugged, and hopped out of bed. Getting the clothes he laid out the night before, he quickly got dressed, and made a mental note to do some laundry once he got home. And buy some groceries maybe, they needed some more. After all, Masaki’s parents were going to be gone all day. He put some bread in the toaster, and ran off to finish getting ready for the day.
Brushing his teeth and his hair, he idly scrolled through tumblr,  and resolutely ignored his contacts case which stared at him accusingly.
Ooh look, new posts about quirked animals! Can’t believe Nezu’s not on that list. Kinda weird, but okay. I think it’s time to go soon, let’s hurry back upstairs!
Masaki jumped as trumpets blared again from his phone, one more alarm set for the express purpose of making sure he wasn’t late.
Well shit.
And now he really needed to boogie. Grabbing his shoes, his prepacked backpack, an his piece of toast, he dashed out the door to reach the last train before it left for the docks.
“Aw shit!” He dashed back inside to retrieve his bag of jewelry, and then finally left, sprinting for all he’s worth towards the train station.
“Good luck on our exam!” yelled his neighbor as he rushed by.
“Thanks!” he yelled back.
Still sprinting he hears a chorus of mutters from besides him and sees a blue haired girl, making large leaps to go at a fast pace.
"Oh no I'm going to be late and miss the last train, if I don't make it I'm not going to get in….."
Having noticed Masaki, she looked up. 
"Oh hello! Based on what you're doing, I bet you're running late for the train too, huh?"
Masaki nodded in response, too busy running to respond properly.
She giggled, and he smiled at her.
They got to the train station, and somehow, when Masaki turned to make sure he was getting on the right train, he lost her.
That's a shame. It's kinda sad to ride the train by yourself.
Masaki got off the train, and ran to the docks, hoping that the transportation was not what he thought it would be. 
He looked up at a gargantuan boat, with TH printed on it in bright letters.
Of course it's a boat, the school's on an island, dumbass. Ok, so maybe it won't be that long.
"Hey applicants! Be prepared for a 30 min boat trip!"
Yeah, no. It wasn't going to be a short boat trip.
After a long, long boat trip in which Masaki queasily reconsidered all of his life choices to go to school on an island that he couldn’t fly to, they finally arrived at the dock of Taiyuu High School.
The place for hero hopefuls.
Three people welcomed the applicants on a podium, one was a lady with black and white hair, who was kinda scary looking. Another was a deer man in a suit, and the last was a dog. 
The dog looked smart.
"Hello! I am Mrs. Chikyu, and I'm the principal here at Taiyuu High. This is the vice principal, Mr Kazumi. Alright applicants! First there's the written test," the lady waited for the groans and moans to subside then continued, "Then there's the practical exam! The practical exam is an obstacle course where you'll have to beat up some robots, save some people, and get to the finish line as fast as you can!" 
She paused for their murmurs again."Also, the test is on another island. So be prepared for one more boat trip! But for now, follow either me, or Mr. Kazumi to go your written exam rooms."
Not another one.
All of the applicants finish in record time it feels like, die to the anticipation of the practical exam. And they board one more boat to get to another island.
Masaki sighs as he watches the other applicants mill around, all of which seem much more confident then he was. He started putting on his multitude of jewelry, first the iron ring, then the turquoise necklace, then the silver bracelet, and finally gold earrings.  Masaki glanced disastefully down at himself.
“Man, I haven’t been this mismatched in a longg time.” he muttered, eyeing the shininess of his jewelry in comparison to his drab sleeveless hoodie, sweatpants, and red shoes. 
A few minutes later, they finally arrived. 
Masaki looked up in astonishment at this humongous facility, that was used only once a year for just entrance exams.
Imagine what the real thing is like, Masaki.
The principal clapped her hands to grab their attention. “Alright folks, let’s get started! Don’t forget, you need to finish one lap through the course! Okay, GOOOO!”
Startled by the abrupt start, everyone froze to look at the principal who only smiled back at them. She shooed them forward, “I said go already! Come on, guys!”
Along with most of the other applicants, he finally took the hint and took off, dashing as hard as he could as he headed for his first obstacles.
It looked like the first zone was an absolutely trashed city. All of it was ruined, with building skeletons, fires, and wreckage, everywhere he looked. He vaguely remembered something about rescuing people from the principal’s first speech, but she skimmed over it so quickly that Masaki definitely could not remember what was said about it. 
Masaki was going to fly over the course to get to the end faster, and maybe get to the so called villains a bit faster. He did need a place to jump off from, because while his wings were strong, they acted more like a glider because of his body wasn't completely adjusted for wings. 
He ran towards the closest building skeleton with the intent of climbing it, when he stumbled over a humanoid robot.
I wonder what this is doing here. Maybe it’s a robot that someone defeated already?I
A sign flashed on the robot’s chest. It said “Rescue Me”.
“Alright, gotta do what the lady asks.” said Masaki shrugging. He picked up the robot, and ran towards the closest “safe zone” which were marked by the forcefield around it, to keep applicants safe if they needed a break, or to store these “people” to save. 
He was almost to the safe zone when he heard a heavy thud. He turned quickly to see what was behind him, and what he saw was a giant robot with a two printed on it, aiming a laser at the person on his back. 
Masaki looked up at the robot. “Well, that’s fun.” 
The robot made a big show of charging up its laser, and Masaki sprinted into the safe zone to get the person inside. The laser fired seconds after he entered, and it hit the barrier.
He wiped the sweat off his face in his short respite, and launched himself back into the fray, watching carefully as other people used their quirks to destroy robots and move forward, someone was punching very neat holes through the robot, someone appeared to be teleporting robots’ heads off, it was nuts. 
Masaki faced down the robot that was firing at him earlier, and eyed it. He already knew what he was going to do, but he needed to be sure that there was enough time for him to do it. 
1.
2.
3.
Ok, let’s go!
Masaki started tapping his eyeballs frantically, and activated his quirk, forming two iron and turquoise knives. Dissipating his wings, he whipped out the knives to begin stabbing and climbing up the giant robot. Reaching the top, having barely broken a sweat, he formed a much, much larger chunk of turquoise and started bashing the robots head like there was no tomorrow. Satisfied with his destruction, he dissipated his weapons, reformed his wings, and launched himself off the robot, going on to the next robot that he saw repeating the process on quite a few others.
This is wayyy too easy. How’s this an exam? How many robots have I destroyed? How many people have I rescued? God, I hope I have enough points to pass…. Oh lol, she just fell off that robot!
Masaki had no idea how many he had destroyed, but he figured his point level was getting higher. He had made a few of the robots shoot at each other, and the ones with a 3 on them were easy to trip up. He continued to rescue people both from robots, and from other applicants who were being so stupid with their quirks. 
He growled in frustration as he threw up a wall of earth to protect the person he's rescuing.
Like really guys, it's not that hard to just aim!
Cursing as his eyes twitched in pain from the dust around him, he reached the next zone, only to find that it’s just a mountain.
Round two, same procedure. 
Make knives. 
Climb Robot.
Bash the robot’s head in, dissipate his weapons, and glide down. 
Rinse, and repeat.
Masaki made it to the next zone in record time, having an easier time making it uphill then the other applicants due to having climbed one of the robots and soaring over the peaks instead of climbing over it like an average pleb.
He reveled in the feeling of the wind through his hair, and wondered what it would be like to really have wings. Wings made of flesh and blood that he could feel. 
If only I were more like my parents. 
In the midst of his enjoyment, he winced as he realized that he probably missed a bunch of people to rescue. 
The mountain came to an abrupt end, as it started steeply plunging downhill, showing a terrain made of different sized rocks. It looked like a landslide. The robots looked like they were having a hard time navigating through the terrain. 
I’m going to have to be more careful.
Instead of rushing at the robots like he had earlier, now he went a bit slower, to make sure he wasn't knocking anything down. 
He climbed up on more robot, and knocked it out with his usual technique, when he realized that it was collapsing. 
Oh no. Oh no no no no.
Masaki watched in horror as he saw the thing tilt and crashdown, underneath him, and frantically leaped off, hopefully to avoid the giant landslide that he was sure was going to crash down and crush something.
He landed several meters away, and braced himself for the inevitable thud.
Only it didn't come. All the rocks remained in their exact positions before the robot had fallen.
Of course they wouldn't make it so it could hurt anybody. I guess the rocks really are stable!
Masaki had glided his way to the last zone, having rescued people and bashed robots along the way, when he came to what looked like a shore line. A big shoreline. There were floating robots with lasers floating around.
He could see the end in the distance, indicated by two bright yellow flags, and saw other competitors heading towards it already, making creative uses of their quirks to get across.
Masaki sighed and blinked his eyes blearily. There wasn't any place high enough for him to glide off of, so he's going to have to swim over to one of the robots and climb one of those.
Damn, I'm so tired.
He sighed, and got into the water, shivering at its cold temperature and began swimming. He agonized at the sight of all the other applicants making much better time than him, and when he finally reached the robot, he didn't even try to do anything cool. He swung up, bashed it with huge chunk of turquoise and called it a day.
He finally reached the top, and reformed his wings for the last time. He jumped and glided down from the robot, almost to the finish line when he saw someone struggling in the water.
It was a person covered with freckles and an awful tie dye job that he had seen earlier in the waiting room.
Oh dear. I think he's drowning. But how is he drowning? I mean, his head is above the water.
With a pang of shock, Masaki swooped a bit lower to see what was wrong, and misjudging his aim, nosedived into the water.
"SHI-!"
The other person, taking no notice of him, continued to struggle in the water.
"Hey-" Masaki coughed. " I'm going to try and get you out, ok?"
The winged boy dissipated his wings, and grabbed onto the other person by the arm, and tried dragging them to the finish line, which was so, so close, but so far away from a kid who had been going full force with nothing but his brute strength.
Why did I ever think I could rescue someone else in the water when I'm this exhausted? Also, why does the person feel like they got stabbed a bunch or something?
Masaki reached down to his feet and created a large piece of plastic to float on the surface of the water with the freckles person. 
Yeah, I'm not going to make it. This plastic is only going to last for a few more seconds, I hope someone's going to come out here to come help us.
Masaki felt a weight on the piece of plastic that was keeping them afloat. He looked up to see a grey skinned girl, reaching down and touching the two people. The world spun, and then they landed, thankfully, at the finish line.
Masaki got up from his face plant, and looked at his savior. 
"Thank you for saving me!" said Masaki rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, about that, I didn't mean to mess with your race."
She glanced at him for a moment, muttered something, and walked off.
He watched her leave and shrugged. Let bygones be bygones, right?
Masaki went to crouch by the freckles person, who now that he realized, was covered with holes. 
Yup, sure, why not.
The brown haired boy shook their shoulder.
" Hey. Are you doing ok?"
They stirred, and sat up. 
"How the fuck did I get here? I mean I know I fell off a robot, but jeez. Did I suddenly gain the ability to teleport?"
" Well, no, but that girl can teleport!" The holey kid with green eyes spun around to look at Masaki. " She got us out!"
"Oh that's good," They sighed, and frowned. "What do you mean, we?"
Masaki grinned sheepishly and blinked hard to try and clear his vision. "Um, I tried to rescue you? And I started drowning myself?"
He snorted. "That's one way to go."
Masaki grinned. "Yup, it sure is. Isn't it super cool that we made it! I hope we passed! And..."
The two walked off together towards the main building, and waited for the rest of the applicants.
".... And that's how my quirk works!"
The Principal butted in, and announced to the crowd of kids.
"Alright guys! See you next time! Your results will come in the mail in a few days! Good luck!"
With that, they were delivered back to the docks.
Masaki returned home to an empty house, and finished his chores for the day. He left a note for his parents telling about his day, and took off all his jewelry. 
As he fell asleep, there was only one thought in his mind. 
And now we wait.
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pbandjesse · 4 years
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Today has been a lot!! I have another cat in the other room. He is orange and his name is Andrew!!! He is just temporary until I find him a new home but man is he a sweetheart and man is sweetP upset!!
Today really was a lot. I slept bad again. And when I woke up I was so upset I was almost in tears. I tried my best to just get an extra couple minutes but I really had to get up. 
I got dressed and was really just not having a fun time. At least my outfit was cute and I wore one of my new hair clips and I felt pretty good about that. 
I got to work with plenty of time even though I accidentally got stuck in the apartment building because someone was sleeping in the entry way and Im assuming someone tried to lock the door more and they like messed it up and I had to go back up to get help from James. Like I dont mind homeless people chilling in there but like, I gotta get out. But I still got to work on time. 
I was mostly just watching a program I had never seen before: paper bridges. Which was neat. But it did not go super well with the first group. They were 8th graders which already made it hard but they called Kaitlyn a bitch and it was really distressing to her. Not shocking I would be upset too. I actually stepped in and gave a speech about the strength of shapes and helped pull everything together to try to make it not so bad. Take some pressure off her. 
And the second time around went just fine.  John is an excellent teacher, we had a smaller group, and it just went much smoother. I am glad I saw both ends of the spectrum. 
But I was also really glad to be done. I headed out and went to get lunch.
I had burger king. I cut my sandwich in half again which continues to be the way to go. I texted Marcus and he asked me to come get him. Absolutely. So I went to get him. I waited in the parking lot for a while. I found a coat rack with a bear on top in the trash. What a nice find. It only needs a little fixing. 
Me and Marcus went to the dollar store for some candies. And off we went to school. 
It was an okay day. The kids were good. I enjoyed their company. But the school is still not a really nice place to be. We hung up art and there was just a lot of uncomfortable comments. About how it wont stay up and the kids will tear it down and destroy it. But like. Its partially your job to get them not to do that?? It just sucked to be told that. 
But working with my kids was good and I had a nice time. 
Pick up took a long while. I had a lot of tears with my kids today so I shared some funny videos of my Rizmo and toys and stuff. I just want them to feel happy. I try my best. 
I had to be in the front office for a while waiting for parents. But that was okay. I was still able to leave around 6. 
As soon as I went outside I saw a cat right there. A beautiful small orange baby. And it came over to me for pets!! But I said goodbye and started walking. And he followed me!! Across the street!! That upset me and I picked him up to make the rest of the walk to the grass and put him down. But then he ran back in the street. I called over to a neighbor and was like 'any idea whos cat??" and they and another neighbor told me its a stray and they were hoping I was taking it when they saw me picking him up. So I coaxed him out from under a car and put him in the front seat. 
He was very silly to drive with. He wanted to be on my arm. Then on my lap under the steering wheel. Then on my shoulder. I was listening to Andrew Jackson Jihad, which is one of my favorite bands and singing to the cat and laughing and I decided that was his name. For now. 
At a stop light I texted our upstairs neighbor Kimberly and asked if she knew anyone who might like a cat. And she said to bring him up so they could meet him. So that is what I did. And its looking good that they will take him if we can convince Nick. Andrew is such a good cat and it would be so nice to let him continue to live in the building. 
But well see. For now Kimberly helped us get him all set up in my studio so we can close the door so sweetP isnt to upset. But then we had to go right back out. Yesterday was James's mom's birthday and we had to go celebrate.
We had dinner and grasshopper pie and she gave us some more train parts. It was just real nice to be with them but I was very tired. 
We got back and I got cleaned up and changed. Went to sit with Andrew. Tried to make sweetP not mad at me. And now Im just in bed. I am really ready to get some sleep. Im just watching a small documentary about a con man and feeling sleepy. 
I hope you all have a great night. Tomorrow is a very long day. Museum, teaching, art show, silks! Its like a 14 hour day. Im already tired. 
I hope you all sleep well tonight. Goodnight!
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blankdblank · 5 years
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Forgotten Pt 7
Prologue - Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 - Pt 5 - Pt 6 -
All through the day you fended off question after question until you could finally scrub back home in your shower and barely manage to dry off and pull on your favorite black jeans and one of your nicer tank tops with a loose sheer floral shirt you tied tighter around your middle you covered with your leather jacket after pulling on your best pair of wandering wedges you’d normally wear for your after work walks to the pub when you felt like dressing up. Answering your door you brushed your hair back with a smile at the tall Elf smiling down at you in his more casual outfit of jeans and a tucked in deep green button down shirt, “Hope you don’t mind walking.”
Your smile grew as you stepped out and locked your door behind you, “Not at all. I prefer it actually, to the drive. Besides, there’s a clearer view of the stars after.”
His smile grew taking your side starting the walk as he stole a glance at your feet, “You’re fine with the walk in those shoes?”
You smiled up at him, “They’re more comfortable than they look. I could run in these if I have to.”
“Still if it rains don’t be surprised if I throw you over my shoulder to get you back faster.”
Your smile grew through another giggle, “What makes you think you’re faster than me?”
He smirked at you, “My legs are longer.”
“I think it might just be an excuse to throw me over your shoulder.” Shooting him a playful smile.
Returning the playful glance, “If I wanted to throw you across my shoulders you’d be there.”
“Well I should say the same to you. I did grow up around Dwarves, I can handle the heaviest of them.”
He chuckled again, “Paints quite a picture. I’m sure I’d enjoy it. Having you toss me over your shoulders.” Stepping closer to you his arm gently rested around your back as a car passed.
You giggled again, “Do you miss the city terribly? Your Ada did.”
He shook his head meeting your eyes, “Not at all. And I look forward to staying here for an impossibly long time.”
“As long as the curious crowds don’t drive you away.”
He chuckled. “There isn’t anything they could say or do to drive me away.”
Your eyes narrowed, “Have you met Dis? I’m sure she’s off somewhere planning our wedding right now.”
He chuckled again, “As long as there’s chocolate cake with strawberries I’m there.”
You giggled, “Oh that’s nice. She forces us through some service and you’re there for the cake. Well I’ll have you know I’m holding out for the steaks and brownies. For Gloin’s they had this lava brownie dish, it was to die for, and the steaks, so good.”
He chuckled again with a nod at your eyes rolling in your description of the steaks, “Sounds like an incredible meal. I say we ask for all three, maybe she might let you pick the dress.”
You giggled again, “Fat chance in hell.” Raising your fingers to twist a strand of your hair before you, “No she lives for dress shopping. She’d never let go of that decision.”
He smirked, “We’ll just have to elope then. Only way around it. You pick the dress you want then the second time around, she’ll be furious but she will still accept planning the more lavish second go round. With our three tiny demands I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Making you both chuckle at the image.
“Well hopefully she’s not there tonight.”
“She’ll be there.”
You grumbled leaning against his side making him curl his arm around you tighter and kiss the top of your head, “Don’t worry I’ll keep an eye on the nearest closets to hide you in.”
“A man with an escape plan, where have you been hiding all my life?”
He chuckled again as you giggled, “Apparently too close to be comfortable with missing knowing you for longer.”
You smiled again and glanced back at the truck stopping at your side with two of your neighbors asking, “Hey Love Birds, heading for the pub?” You nodded and Thranduil easily griped your hips and lifted you into the bed of the truck effortlessly before climbing in himself and sitting at your side.
While the others there drew you into their conversation they grinned and watched as his arm rested across your legs before you, trying to keep you from sliding along the trip over. Stopping again his smile grew at your grumble spotting Dis already waiting and waving you over, curling his arms around you he helped you down after climbing out himself and gently took your hand leading you inside.
Holding your smiles you accepted your seat in the middle of the group of Durins leaning against his side as they kept scooting closer to you as Dis ‘snuck’ pictures of you, all while you felt a pair of brown eyes mournfully lingering on you.
.
Hours passed and you managed to guide him to the side of the pub and slip outside and sneak back holding in your giggles as you did so, managing to make it to a cross roads until a group of cars were coming up on you. Suddenly his arms wrapped around you lifting you to dart behind a thick bushy tree as you covered your mouth to muffle your giggles as they passed still talking about you both, wondering where you could have snuck off to.
“Nice plan.” He chuckled again setting you down and leading you back to the road when the car was out of sight.
“It’s my job. Have to make sure we manage to get some time alone together.”
Back at your place you led him inside to make some tea as he glanced around stealing his chance to see the home you had clearly worked so hard into making yours. Stealing peeks into each room along the way until he found you in the kitchen and froze at a picture among the scattered mural of frames along your wall of a man resembling Kili in an Elven Uniform, “I didn’t know Kili served in the Elven forces.”
You glanced out over the counter saying, “That’s my Cousin Draco.” His eyes wandered over to his ears and your last name stitched across his chest as you walked out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea and passed him one, “He used to watch me when my Parents were working on the base. It got attacked and, he was the one who got me out of the house when the roof caved in. Bit of a shock when I first met Kili, he won’t be out of active service for another 20 years.”
Thranduil, “Does Kili know about him?”
You shook your head, “Couldn’t bear to hang up his picture till I got this place, got a letter that he was safe back in Tirion. I don’t really get many visitors.”
His smile grew as he joined you out on your walk through to the back yard, “Well I’d love to meet him one day, when he can that is.”
You smiled up at him again, “I think he’d like you.”
“Legolas was right about you.” Your brow rose, “He said you’d be perfect for me. When he spent that summer here before I moved in.”
You smiled, “We barely even spoke.”
He smiled, “You didn’t have to.” His eyes shifted to the gazebo in the center of the lake from your curious gaze, “Has that always been there?”
You giggled softly, “Since I’ve been here. I know my first month here there was a dance at school, no one asked me. And Bofur and Bifur took me out there, decorated it with lanterns, brought out the record player and taught me Dwarven dances.”
His smile grew glancing at it again, “Hmm, I may have to take you out there some time. And if you’re ever in the mood for dancing let me know.”
You smiled again, “I’ll remember that.” Sipping from your mug as he did the same walking with you to the edge of the water where you sat before, to snuggle under the stars finishing your tea. Slowly your eyes drooped and you grumbled making him chuckle before helping you up and walking you back inside gently kissing you on the cheek, “I look forward to seeing our picture in the morning paper.”
You giggled again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded, “Yes you will. Sweet dreams.” Smiling widely at you as he stepped back before turning to walk across the green distance to enter his back door as you locked up, changed and slid into bed as he did the same.
The pub finally emptied and Kili cleaned then closed up, bounding up the steps hoping he hadn’t missed the best of the films Mal and her cousins had set up for the night. However a wall of giggles met him at the door widening his smile on his path inside. Around the corner he saw the impossible, his counters were spotless, the were coated with flour and ingredients, but clearly someone had put some work into wiping down the counters before the creation of whatever the giggling group was working on. Joining them in the kitchen he spotted the boys all following Mal’s lead. Working small clumps of pizza dough into small circles before Mal brought over the pot of sauce, she had clearly made herself by the dicing board and remnants of veggies in the trash bin, to pour a circle of sauce on each of them before the boys each claimed handfuls of the toppings in the bowls lined up above the pizzas. Carefully when done they added them to the tray loaded with five already that was eased into the oven.
With a grin as the boys went back to watching the paused film Kili entered taking her side chuckling through his oddly misshapen first creation he added to the next tray before moving on to the next one while sharing about his evening in the pub. Wetting his lips he asked, “How was the clinic?”
Mal let out an awkward snort she turned her blushing face away from him after feigning a  need to fetch something for a moment until she calmed. “Nearly the full town dropped in. All eager to offer their congratulations.”
Kili drew in a deep breath holding his smile, “I bet. Jaqi doesn’t date. Bit of a shock.”
Mal turned her head, “Doesn’t date?” Kili shook his head, “Like, at all?”
“Nope. Fili said she had a couple in trade school but never out here.”
“How?!”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s drop dead gorgeous. I mean I know she’s practically related to about half the town through Bifur and Bofur, but, no one? Ever?”
Kili paused for a moment then wet his lips answering lowly on his way to fetch some juice, “Typical Dwarven attraction, well, Jaqi doesn’t fit the ideal.”
Mal tilted her head for a moment, “You’re saying she’s ugly?”
Kili turned to her, “I-,” he let out an exhale pausing for thought, “By typical Dwarven standards she is not attractive. However, knowing her, she is an incredible person and able to win anyone over. But again, it’s all down to the personal preference of the Dwarf. And growing up she was always off to the side, on the teams but not really outgoing.”
Mal’s hand was propped on the counter for her to lean on it balking at him with befuddled narrowed eyes, “How,” she wet her lips, “I just can’t see it. That she is the one people say, ‘but she has such a great personality’, I mean, I’m that girl. Always.”
Kili, “You are not that girl.”
“Am I attractive then?” She asked before her blush or nerves could stop her.
Kili nodded, “You seem, Hobbitish,” she raised a brow, “which, and mind you this is not an insult. Dwarves usually find Hobbits some of the most attractive people they’ve met.”
Mal nodded then shook her head, “What a strange world…” Kili couldn’t help but smirk as she went to add their pizzas into the oven and take the others out to carry into the boys.
The longer he sat with the group he knew it to be true, and even with this gorgeous yet quirky woman seemingly unaware of her effect on others, even more so when surrounded by her cousins casting her in the even more appealing Hobbitish mothering glow making her damn near irresistible to a great deal of Dwarves in town. Though lucky for him it was blaringly obvious she had an attraction to the dark eyed Durin and even a bit confused about where his true attractions lie, he felt something, not sure what, but something making the town sit back and simply watch to see what unfolds. One movie led to two and pizzas led to ice cream and brownies which led to a painful sugar crash leaving the six of them sprawled out across the couches. Morning came and with the early return of Fili and Sigrid pictures were taken, and not so subtly copied and hidden to use for later.
Fumbling with his keys Thorin knocked on Bilbo’s door. They had been out to eat before, but never alone. For years they had been doing this dance and hopefully tonight they could both break out of their shells. The ride over was quiet and not until they go to the restaurant did Thorin say a word. Even just his name made Bilbo’s skin rise coated with bumps as his eyes traveled over the Dwarf so commonly coated in grease and rust now scrubbed clean in a button down shirt and slacks over some dress shoes smelling so faintly of pine trees a scent always making Bilbo smile. Not far from the Hobbit he kept stealing glances at, with his dress shirt covered in a paisley vest flattened over the acorn coated tie, slacks and dress shoes he was wearing. With the same tempting unremovable scent of clay mingled with rain covered wild grass triggering the memory of Thorin exploring the green hills of these lands when growing up.
In the back room of this firefly themed eatery the pair stole adoring glances at one another and while the wine was tasted sparingly while the effects of the steak dinners started to kick in. Mostly full the pair stole the chance to take dessert home along with the rest of the bottle of wine they had started.
The empty cottage normally filled with the sound of children allowed nerves to creep back in. But steadily by firelight the pair eased out of their shoes sharing their deepest secrets and thoughts while splitting the desserts and wine. The last drop had been drunk while a single drip of chocolate sauce eased down Thorin’s lip and before he could lick it away Bilbo’s lips were on his after a gentle tug on his braided beard. A stealing of chocolate began a kiss that neither wished to end, so it didn’t, at least not past the usual fumbling path to bed, stripping along the way taking full advantage of the empty cottage while they could. All until morning their impassioned night continued.
And if Thorin imagined himself unable to love the Hobbit more he found the sunrise’s golden light spreading across his golden dusted curls and tanned freckle coated skin all the more alluring. His grin spread and against his Hobbit’s back he melted grinning wider at the hand covering his to fold fingers with his drawing it close to his steadily beating heart after a peck on the warm calloused knuckles. As per the arrangement by Mal they got to sleep in and switch from their spooning to Thorin settling on his back with Bilbo following after to settle on his side.
A drowsy close eyed kiss on Bilbo’s forehead opened his eyes to the peaceful expression on his One’s face. Somehow under all that scowling this peaceful creature emerged in his sleep. Long lashed eyelids coating his bewitching eyes with a perfectly angled nose to frame his face with lips meant for a teasing smirk while hiding a beaming smile able to stun. A beard coated chin lead to straggling hair down his jaw and neck failing to connect with the dark hairs across his steadily rising chest coated in several Dwarven tattoos his fingers began to trace. The somewhat hypnotizing patterns distracted him from the opening of those bewitching eyes and smirk that followed as well as the calloused curled finger looping under his chin to turn the head of the golden coated Hobbit melting immediately into the kiss offered him.
Pt 8
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Come Into the Water (2/15)
When Sarah wakes up, her whole body aches, just as she expected, and the light coming through the cracks in the blinds tells her that it must be mid-morning. The light is still coming in through the eastern kitchen window stronger than that of the slider on the west, and has a tilted slant to the way it fades into her tiles. She should really unpack her few belongings, she thinks, but instead lays on the floor for a while longer, simply watching the dust drift in the sunbeams. 
Once she finally gets to her feet, she decides to go see the neighbor, Maggie. She’s supposed to be making friends and not isolating, after all, and if she hasn’t talked to anyone by her appointment tomorrow, her therapist will be mad at her. Not really, but it’ll feel like she’s mad at her, and Sarah hates that. She stumbles on creaky muscles and pincushion legs to the bathroom to pick up yesterday’s clothes instead of trying to unpack anything new. That’s too much for her right now. Sarah pulls on the sweatpants and tank top, kicks at her dirty bandage with a distasteful expression. She should get a trash can at some point, probably. And a toothbrush. She runs her tongue along her teeth and winces, knowing her breath can’t be great. But if she goes to the store, she won’t have the energy to visit the neighbors, and visiting them is probably what her therapist wants her to do. So she should probably avoid breathing too closely to any of them, she thinks as she searches for her shoes and shoves her feet into them. Broken glass is a bitch, and even if she hasn’t seen it here like she did in Chicago, she doesn’t want to take the chance.
Just like Maggie said, she goes to the house on the left. Unlike her own, with a pale blue exterior in need of a power washing, Maggie’s house is a soft cotton candy pink with white trimming and a quaintly sloped roof. All the windows are open, filling the air with the scent of fresh cut fruit and maple syrup, helped along on the sound of off-key singing in nonsense baby talk. It doesn’t sound like Maggie, so it must be her wife. Sarah likes the sound of that phrase- her wife. She could get used to a pair of words like that. Paint them across her bedroom wall and stitch it onto embroidered pillows. It would be a good excuse to learn embroidery.
She almost doesn’t knock on the front door. Her hand moves without permission, though, drawn into the feeling of home that clouds the front step and the little herb garden beneath one of the windows and the toys clumped in one corner of the yard. The wood is solid, real beneath her fist when she knocks. 
“One minute!”
The singing stops, and in the time between knocking and the door opening, Sarah thinks long and hard about just going back home. It’d be easier, for one thing. But she should do this, no matter how hard. Right as the doorknob twists, she slaps her hand over her forearm protectively. She should’ve put on a jacket, or a long sleeved shirt.
Maggie’s wife already has a smile on her face when she opens the door, dressed comfortably in pajama pants and a loose tee shirt, a towel thrown over her shoulder, and caramel hair tied out of her face. She’s pretty the way millenium old forests are pretty. There are kind lines by her eyes, freckles where her skin is bare, and a golden eight-pointed star resting between her collarbones. She looks happy. She looks like what Sarah wants to be.
“You must be Sarah! Maggie told me you might come by,” she says, and steps out of the doorway to gesture inwards. “I’m Olivia, and this-” she points at a high chair containing a strawberry-stained toddler as Sarah comes in, “-is our son Noah.”
“Hi, Noah.”
Olivia walks back to the kitchen, in the same place as Sarah’s but much more homely, with a fruit basket on the breakfast bar, food in the middle of being prepared, and a few scribbled drawings pinned to the fridge by brightly colored magnets. Her sock-covered feet slide a little but she doesn’t slip.
“Sit down, I’ll get you a plate.”
“I don’t need-”
One of Olivia’s hands wave dismissively and she grabs two pancakes from a stack next to the fruit, depositing them on a little blue plate and setting it in front of Sarah, followed by a fork and a container of maple syrup. Noah decides at that moment to make an unhappy sound, kick his feet, and point at Sarah’s pancakes.
“You already had yours, sweet boy. Coffee?”
“That sounds nice, thank you.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“No thanks.”
A steaming mug, chipped along the rim, settles in front of Sarah in the blink of an eye. She lets herself just smell it, clear her of everything else for a moment before she thinks about eating the admittedly fluffy pancakes in front of her. Everything smells good in here. The air is warmer. There’s chaos, but it’s a good kind of chaos that she wishes she could cultivate for herself someday. As she watches and stabs at her breakfast half-heartedly, Olivia finishes cutting fruit and dumps some onto Noah’s highchair tray, some into a tupperware container, and some into a bowl which she leaves within Sarah’s reach in a silent but much appreciated gesture. 
Then she takes a seat herself and uses her fork to tear into a pancake. “You just moved in yesterday?”
“Yeah, from uh, from Chicago.”
It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth, either.
“Mmm. Long way to come but I get it. It’s peaceful here,” Olivia muses. She has a little smile on her face. “Mag’s from Chicago, I’m from New York. She came for a conference I spoke at, and we hit it off. The rest is history.”
“Nnnn,” Noah adds, pointing at Sarah’s food again and making a whiny sound.
Sarah gives him a small piece to placate him, and when he smiles, she can’t help smiling back. He’s a happy looking kid. She doesn’t remember if she was, and no one has ever told her. 
“If you need help unpacking or getting essentials, need to find anything in town, or just want a friend, we’ve got you. At least one of us is usually home, and I can give you our numbers, if you want them. I know how lonely a new place can feel.”
“Thanks, I… I really appreciate that.”
Olivia just smiles at her, and a moment later, stands upright in a bit of a rush like she’s forgotten something. She dashes from the room, leaving Sarah alone with Noah, who holds a hand out for another piece of pancake she can’t resist giving him. She probably shouldn’t feed someone else’s baby, but it makes him happy. Children- babies- are so simple. Little things bring them so much joy. They don’t know what anything except happiness feels like.
The loud thunk of books on the counter stirs Sarah from her thoughts and gets her focus on the three thick spines in front of her. One is an encyclopedia of some sort, one is on the types of fish off the Northern California coast, and the third just has little shells hot glued to the spine instead of a title.
“I think you’d like these.” Olivia traces her fingers over the cover of the top book. “Just for looking at, if you want. You can take them home with you, or leave them here and come see whenever you want- I wouldn’t mind the company. It’s a good way to get acquainted with the area.”
Sarah takes the encyclopedia- old with yellowing pages, a white crease in the spine and smudges to the lettering of the front cover, clearly loved- and realizes it’s about urban legends. A bright pink sticky note emerges from the center, new and unworn. It must’ve been placed there recently. 
“That’s the part that I think is most relevant for this town is marked. The fish book is just- it’s just a good look through. And the album is uh, it’s sentimental. So be gentle with it.”
“I will. I promise.”
The smile Olivia gives her is blinding. Pure joy, excitement. It’s not like the way he smiled at Sarah before his hand cupped the back of her neck, but rather that of someone who has nothing but love to give. For the first time in a while, Sarah is almost excited. She wants to look at these books. She wants to connect. 
“You’re welcome to hang around a bit if you want. I’ll just be hanging around the house for a bit, but I’ve got a study at four- Maggie should be home by then. We’re gonna eat at around eight, if you wanna join us.”
“Thanks but I think-” she thinks it’s too much in one day. Too much energy she doesn’t have. “I think I better head home for a bit. I’ll see you later?”
“Of course.”
Olivia hugs her briefly but tightly, and wishes her a good day as Sarah carries the three books back home and sets them on the floor next to her towel. The couch is uncomfortable. Wrong. Not hers. She opens the encyclopedia first, turning to the marked section, and just stares at it for a good ten minutes. There’s a lot of text, small and dense and too much for her to process, but the picture included is mesmerizing. It’s of a woman with dark grey skin and long black hair, her lips pouting and eyes slitted like a cat’s. But it’s not a woman. It’s a mermaid, her torso melting into scales that look to have been hand painted into the book but obviously haven’t been. 
“Mermaids,” she tells the book.
The book says nothing back.
She doesn’t have it in her to read and sets aside the encyclopedia, skips over the fish book, and opens the album. In glittery capital letters, it reads “AVA” on the first page above a picture of a much younger Olivia sitting in the shallows of the ocean with a blonde little girl, smiling with gap teeth at something just above the camera. Maggie probably took the photo. Sarah slips her fingers beneath the page and turns it to reveal more photos, tucked into the stiff plastic sleeves. They’re all of the same little girl, but it becomes quickly apparent that she isn’t a little girl. Where she should have legs, her waist lengthens and trails into bright blue and gold scales. Most of the photos are similar; the girl- Ava, if Sarah had to guess- frolics in the waves, often with Olivia and/or Maggie. There’s an image of her presenting cupped hands full of pearls to the camera with an innocent smile. As the photos go on, she gets older. The photos seem to have more time between them.
Three quarters of the way through the album, there are no more photos, and the last one is dated two years ago. Ava looks to be in her early twenties, smiling and holding little black picture- an ultrasound. Sarah reads the caption on the back of the photo. 
"Baby brother on the way!"
After that, nothing. 
Sarah finds herself looking at the picture a bit longer, studying Ava's face. She's really pretty, with a stunning, genuine smile and wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes like the ocean. Her tan skin is dotted with moles, but instead of studying it, she slams the album shut. She's not supposed to look at women like that, naked women like that.
But then two words come back to her like a gift from God. Her wife. Maybe it's something she's allowed to have. Maybe. Sarah isn't ready to think about it either way and crawls over to the couch. It'll be more comfortable than the floor, she thinks, as she imagines what it might be like to meet Ava. Does she smile as much in real life? Is she more solemn? What does her laugh sound like? The photos stick to her memory even though she shouldn't think about them. 
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thenovelartist · 5 years
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The Love Dare, chapter 3
~ AO3 ~ Fanfiction ~ Support me on Ko-Fi ~
<<<First   <<Prev   Next>>
Disclaimer: none of the dares are mine but come straight out of “The Love Dare” from the movie Fireproof.
Day one did not start right away, much to Tikki’s dismay. But at the same point, Marinette rushed out of the house first thing in the morning and never talked to Adrien, who was out of the house even before she was.
“Because of that, I’m forcing you to go shopping,” Tikki said, plan hatching in her mind.
Marinette frowned. “What for?”
“A cute notebook you’ll want to write in.”
Marinette cocked her head in confusion.
Grinning, Tikki nodded. “I’m going to make you write all this down and journal it.”
“Oh, Tikki!” Marinette whined. “I’m so busy—”
“Nope,” Tikki interrupted. “No, no, and no. You only think you’re busy, but you’re not. Not if you want to fix the box.”
It was like watching a petulant child as Marinette crossed her arms and grunted under her breath. “You’ve been taking sass lessons from Alya, I swear.”
“Trixx, but that’s not the point.”
So, after work, Marinette spent forty-five minutes shopping around to find a cute notebook that she liked. She ate dinner out while she was at it, mumbling about how there wasn’t food at home and Adrien probably wouldn’t make anything.
Tikki could only frown. She knew Marinette was hurt, and from that hurt spawned everything else. But that would change tomorrow. Tikki would make sure of it.
Day 1
Marinette sat on the bed with the notebook Tikki had her buy in hand. She’d already written “Day 1” on the page and was waiting for Tikki to give out further instructions.
“Alright, Marinette,” Tikki began, floating in front of her. “Day one. Love is patient.”
Considering the pause, Marinette assumed Tikki meant for her to write that down. So she did.
Tikki grinned. “Love is communicated in a number of ways…”
Again, she paused, so Marinette wrote that down.
“But our words often reflect the condition of our hearts. So, for the entire day, demonstrate patience with your partner. Do not say anything negative to Adrien, and if you feel the urge to, don’t say anything at all.”
Marinette paused as she hesitantly looked up at Tikki.
But the kwami just smiled. “Marinette, trust me. You and Adrien have been fighting a lot. Be patient, even if you don’t want to be. Better to hold your tongue than say something you regret.”
Marinette looked down at the page nervously. But she could do this. One day of it, right?
After getting dressed, she headed into the kitchen. Adrien was already in there, finishing up his breakfast. There was cereal on the table, and she picked up the box.
“It’s empty,” Adrien said.
Sighing, Marinette tossed the box in the trash and looked in the fridge for something.
“We’re out of milk, too.”
Biting her tongue against a sharp comeback, Marinette shut the fridge door. “Could you go to the store today?”
“I don’t have time. Just like you, I’m busy all day.”
This is hard. Marinette sighed. “K,” she said, tossing her keys in her purse and marching out the door.
Dear Diary,
Tikki is making me do this. It wasn’t my idea to journal at the end of the day and “reflect on my actions.” But I don’t want to argue with Tikki. She’s scary when she’s angry.
It’s the beginning of this forty-day challenge to “fix the box” so to speak. Do I want to save this marriage? Maybe. I don’t even know. Adrien hates me. It’s irritating dealing with him. I don’t need his sass. I didn’t even know “we’re out of milk” could be as sassy and have as much attitude as he put in it. It’s like dealing with Gabriel, but almost more irritating because Gabriel was cold and Adrien
Marinette sighed, her pen drifting and making a line on the paper.
Adrien’s Adrien.
I don’t want to do this with him. I don’t. It’s frustrating because it’s ridiculous and I don’t know what I did wrong for him to act like I’m the bad guy.
My tongue hurts from biting it all day, but I guess we didn’t fight, so that’s good?
I’m tired and done with the day. Only 39 more days to go.
 Day 2
“Love is kind,” Tikki said. “So, in addition to saying nothing negative today—”
“Wait.” Marinette looked up, confused. “I thought the dare was over.”
“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki said. “The dares build on each other. They aren’t dare dares. They’re building blocks. You can’t just do forty things for forty days then go back to where you were and expect there to be a change.”
Marinette sighed, supposing Tikki had a point.
“So, as I was saying,” Tikki continued. “In addition to not saying anything negative today, do one act of kindness for Adrien without expecting anything in return.”
Marinette sighed, finishing the line then shutting the book. What was she supposed to do?
If Adrien had to pick a word to describe the day, it would be weird.
It started out weird enough when Marinette took his empty cereal bowl from the table that morning, put it in the dishwasher along with her dishes, and told him to “have a good day” right as she left the house.
Then, he got surprised by the principal of the neighboring school who told him that he knew Adrien was in line to be on the National Fencing team and wanted a sure replacement for him should he get accepted. Apparently, he had taken the liberty of setting about finding a replacement and now had interviews lined up.
There were three people he had to waste the day interviewing, ending each interview with a spar to see if their skills were truly up to par. Three weren’t.
And then number four came in.
Firstly, she was the only female of the group, which Adrien noted with some curiosity. But her skills were paralleled by him. He was reluctant to admit she may even be better.
Her demeanor was a little harsh, but it was clear she knew her way around the sabre. And her references were those he could not ignore. The Tsurugi family were known for being incredibly talented fencers.
“When can you start?”
She gave him a slight proud smile. “Tomorrow. I will come first thing in the morning.”
Day 3
“Love is not selfish. Whatever you invest time, money, and effort into will become what is important to you. So along with not saying anything negative, invest into your relationship by getting Adrien something that says, ‘I was thinking of you.’”
“Hi Maman.”
“Marinette!” Her maman was quick to wrap Marinette in a hug. “How is everything?”
“Rough,” Marinette admitted. “As usual.”
Her mother gave her a pitying look. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. All marriages have rough patches, and it’s up to the two of you to work it out. And I’m sure Gabriel’s passing hasn’t been easy on Adrien.”
“It’s like he’s a whole new man,” Marinette admitted. “And I don’t know what to do.”
“Keep working,” her maman assured. “No marriage survives if it’s not worked on.”
I got it. And I’m trying. “I actually stopped by to grab some pastries to take home.”
“Adrien will appreciate it, I’m sure,” Maman said as she immediately put a box together. “We couldn’t keep him out of these when you two first got married.”
Marinette smiled. “I know. I was hoping to surprise him when he got home.”
“He’ll appreciate it,” her maman assured, placing a full box in her hands. “And keep working. You and Adrien are a good match.”
As much as it hurt her heart, Marinette forced a smile and nodded. “I know. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Adrien was tired, to say the least. The day had been extraordinarily long and draining because on top of all his work, he had to train Ms. Tsurugi in, well, everything. She was a quick learner, which made the process easier. Clearly, he’d made a good choice.
“We’ve met before, actually,” Ms. Tsurugi told him when they were heading out for the day. “I applied for this job because I remember fighting you in the youth nationals. You happened to win that time.”
Adrien frowned. “When? I’m trying to remember.”
“I’d say seven years ago.”
Adrien fought to remember. “The girl in the red uniform.”
Ms. Tsuguri smiled. “Yes. I remember admiring how talented you were back then. And you still are. You haven’t lost your touch.”
“And you certainly haven’t lost yours,” Adrien returned. “You’re incredibly skilled.”
“Thank you. I work hard to be.”
“It shows.”
Ms. Tsurugi smiled. “I would enjoy talking more if you have the time.”
Adrien paused, debating if he really wanted to go back home at all. In the end, it was his fatigue that won out. “Maybe another time. I’m exhausted from the day. Maybe lunch sometime soon?”
She gave a nod. “Tomorrow, maybe.”
“Tomorrow.”
And with that, they went their separate ways.
When he got home, Adrien dropped his duffle bag of equipment and headed immediately for the shower, after which he crashed out on the couch and reached for the remote.
The door opened before he could turn on the TV. Meaning Marinette was home.
He sighed, but looked at the clock and startled at the time. “You’re home early.”
And that’s when she set a box down on the coffee table in front of him. “I ran by the bakery today,” she said. “I thought I’d bring you home some of your favorites.”
Adrien looked at the box and frowned. “I can’t eat that.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why not?”
He looked at his wife and couldn’t suppress his smirk. It hurt, bitterly, that she didn’t remember. Even the sudden sweetness of whatever she was doing didn’t hide the fact she still didn’t know anything about him and didn’t care. “I’m on a diet.”
“What for? You’re fine.”
Fine. Not good looking or handsome or anything else she used to say to him. No, he was “fine.” “I’m being considered for the National Fencing team, don’t you remember?”
Her eyes widening was all he needed to confirm that no, she didn’t remember. “You never told me.”
He scoffed. “Of course, I did. You just weren’t listening.”
Marinette’s mouth opened but snapped shut just as quickly. Her eyes closed and head turned away, she took a breath before leaning down to scoop the pastries off the table. “I’m sorry,” was all she said as she walked off.
“He’s really hurting, Tikki.”
“I know,” Tikki said, leaning against Plagg’s side. “Marinette is, too. After today, I think she’s reluctant to keep on trying.”
“She’s doing it, though.”
“I’m kinda forcing her.”
“Sometimes, it takes a shove.”
“As much as I don’t like it,” Tikki admitted.
“You’re doing it out of love.”
“I’m doing it for them. They didn’t deserve to suffer like they did learning Gabriel was Hawkmoth.”
Plagg grunted. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him. He damaged my kitten.”
Tikki reached out to place her paws over Plagg’s. “I know. I don’t like what he did to Marinette, either, even if it was only half as much as what he did to Adrien.”
“It worries me just what this boy will do now that he feels he can’t trust anyone,” Plagg said. “I don’t want my kitten to ruin his life like this.”
“I know,” Tikki assured. “We just have to keep hoping they hold on.”
Dear Diary,
Adrien hates me. All he wants to do is pick fights and it hurts because I didn’t do anything wrong. I try to do one thing nice for him and suddenly I’m the bad guy for trying to ruin the diet I didn’t even know he had because he won’t tell me anything.
Marinette took a moment to shove the pain au chocolate she was having for dinner in her mouth.
How was I supposed to know he was in line for the National Fencing team? He never told me. He can’t get mad at me. And then he was all adamant that he told me and was looking for a fight and what am I supposed to do? Just stand there and take it. I hate it. I hate all this. It’s not going to work. Watch. I’m just so done and I’m not even home with him more than a few hours. And forget working from home. That’s not an option anymore. I miss the days that I could work from home and not have to deal with any of this stress. It hurts and I hate it. I’m done. He’s done.
Let me out.
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anagentinwriting · 5 years
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To Catch a Thief - Part 12
Summary: Being an FBI field agent was your dream job but having been stuck behind a desk for most of your career you’ve almost given up. Fortunately, a series of robberies with minimal evidence forces you to assist a team in the field to help solve the case. But when the only thing left behind is a series of song lyrics, will you be able to find the perp? Or will the number of obstacles and lack of evidence keep you from solving the case?
Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader
Word Count: 3221
Warnings: Language
To Catch a Thief Masterlist / Main Masterlist
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Peter POV
Arriving in Wakanda with Ronan and Korath, Peter knew this was going to be an interesting retrieval. Peter preferred working alone, Rule #5: Work by yourself every chance you get, but since no one knew where to start the search The Collector thought it best to send a couple of people with him.
Ronan laid a map of Wakanda on top of the Jeep’s hood and decided the necklace had to be in one of three spots: City of the Dead, Warrior Falls, or Jabari Land. Peter wanted to check out Warrior Falls first since Valkyrie's story happened near water, but he got outvoted. Instead, they went into the City of the Dead because the Trinkets believed if you wanted to protect something keep it close, but Peter disagreed.
As Peter suspected the City of the Dead was a dead end. They wasted a whole day only to come up with purple flowers. Korath drove back out of the city towards Warrior Falls and Peter couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He knew they should have started at the Falls, but they didn’t listen. He wasn’t an idiot he knew what he was doing. Rule #200: Research what you are stealing.
“Peter come in, Peter you there,” you said through his comm. “Sorry new to this...um...cough if you can hear me.” Peter coughed, but it turned into one of those coughing fits. “Calm down, I only needed like a single cough; no needed to cough up a lung.” He continued to cough but couldn’t stop the smirk from appearing on his face.
“Sorry, something in my throat,” he coughed again before taking a sip of water.
“I thought you were dying, guess I was mistaken,” Ronan chuckled, staring out the front windshield as Korath drove through the forest.
“Shut up you Big Turd Blossom,” Peter scoffed. “How far are we out?”
“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Korath chimed in, looking at the GPS.
“You finally get a date with the FBI agent neighbor of yours.”
Peter tried to say something, but Korath interrupted him. “Star-Prince a date?” Korath laughed, slapping his hand against the steering wheel. “Good one, Ronan.”
“Come on man.” Peter rolled his eyes staring back out the window. “I don’t think she’d give me much of a chance anymore anyways,” Peter said softly enough for the comm to pick up.
“Yeah, Pete. Kraglin here. If that was meant for YN, she’s not here. Gamora made her go eat dinner. She hasn’t eaten much since we got to Wakanda. If you ask me, she’s worried about you man.”
Peter breathed a half smile as he stared out the window. With all that’s happened, he was worried about you, too. He hated ignoring you and pretending to be busy when all he was doing was drinking his sorrows away at Trash Panda. You needed time to process everything, and Peter wanted to give it to you. He promised he’d talk to you when this is all over.
“We’re here Star-Crunch!”  Korath said grabbing his gear out of the back of the jeep.
Peter stepped outside the door and stretched making his back crack. “Already?”
“We need to hike the rest of the way and set up camp. Dusk will soon be upon us soon,” Korath stated. Peter tilted his head up seeing blue skies, but he couldn’t see much more with the tree coverage.
Peter moved to the back of the Jeep to grab his gear when he saw Ronan coming out of the trees.  “It’s clear I took care of the guards. Time to move forward,” Ronan mentioned.
“Wait, you killed them?”
“Call it an occupational hazard.”
“Come, let’s get this over with.” Korath walked past them and into the rainforest.
Peter rolled his eyes following behind them carrying his gear. This is why he hated working with the Trinkets, they did whatever they wanted and never had to face the consequences.
“Peter, Peter are you there?” Your voice rang in his ear.
He cracks a half smile at the sound of your voice. “Yeah,” he whispered, rubbing his mouth.
“You’re heading in the right direction. I guess you’re smarter than I pegged you for.” He bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling. His assumption was right the necklace had to be in the falls.
“How much farther is it, gentleman?” Peter asked, stepping over a fallen log.
“We should get there by afternoon tomorrow,” Korath replied, glancing down at his GPS. “But, we have more ground to cover before we reach our camp point?”
“Wow, you have it all figured out already? Rest points, checkpoints, but when are the restroom points?”
“Will you shut up?” Ronan shouted, turning his head towards Peter.
“Will you shut up?” Peter mocked in a whiny voice.
A couple of hours later, they reached their camp point.  Peter pulled his gear out of his bag and set up camp. Ronan started a fire to cook his supper, Korath fiddled with his tablet, and Peter laid on his sleeping bag staring at the stars.
“Peter, I'm going to read this gossip magazine because I know you love them.” He furrowed his brows and stared hard at the night sky. He hated gossip magazines he didn’t understand the point of them. Budging into people’s private lives when they're trying to live their own life. He decided as long as he could listen to your voice he’d be okay with it. “What? This comes as a total shock. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts are having a baby! Oh my god, really? This shit is news nowadays. Yeah, this magazine sucks...moving on.” He let out a quiet chuckle.
“How about them Yankees? Just kidding, I don’t pay attention to football.  Wait, no that’s baseball,” you laughed. “I’m too sleep deprived for this right now.” Peter loved hearing you laugh. He wished he could be with you right now instead of in the middle of the rainforest pursuing a piece of jewelry he didn’t give a shit about.
“In case you’re wondering, I’m on the first watch, so you’re going to have to listen to my annoying voice. Hope your good with that,” you paused, waiting for a response. He coughed and hummed. “Knew you still like me,” you chuckled.
“I think we need to talk about the elephant over the comm. Since you can’t speak without getting killed, I’ll go first.” You took a deep breath. “At first, I didn’t know why you did it.  I thought you were in it for the money or the glory or whatever.  Most people are when it comes to these sort of things, but you weren’t Peter. You had a reason, you did it for family, for your mother, and I understand that. I mean, if I could go back to warn my parents about what was going to happen. I’d do it in a heartbeat.” You stayed quiet for a few minutes, and he continued to stare at the stars.
“I kind of miss you. Is that weird to say? I don’t know, but you’re a good guy, Peter,” you confessed, clearing your throat.  “And I’m sorry if I did anything disconcerting to make you hate me.”
You thought he hated you. Where did that come from? It was the total opposite, Rule #2: Never get close to a cop, but it’s not like he could say anything right now and not get caught. He’d have to let it pass and talk once this all blows over.
“Ahh, sappy moments. Gross, am I right? Sorry,” you laughed awkwardly. “Anyways, I made a playlist cause I know you’re sick of listening to Korath and Ronan. Enjoy the comm tunes!”
He waited as you put the music through.  Right away he heard Faithfully by Journey. He grinned, of course, you would play this song first. He started out singing it quietly which then turned into belting out the chorus.
“Will you shut up? Some people are trying to sleep here,” Ronan shouted, making Peter laugh.
At that moment he didn’t care about anything because over his comm he could hear you giggling.  He was the reason behind it, and he couldn’t stop smiling. He turned his back towards the fire and continued to listen to your playlist until he fell asleep.
They walked in silence for a few hours until they reached the edge of a cliff where a river flowed below them. The Golden City was in the far distance surrounded by miles and miles of trees spreading in all directions. The view was breathtaking, and Peter never thought he’d see anything like this.
“This way,” Korath insinuated, turning to walk upstream as the other men followed behind.
“Peter we need to talk.” Your voice rang into his ear.
“Dudes, I gotta take a leak, do you mind if I---” Peter gestured to his crotch before pointing to the trees.
“Make it quick,” Ronan scoffed, shaking his head.
Peter took off his gear and walked into the forest a good distance away from Ronan and Korath before speaking. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I wanted to give you a heads up at Warrior Falls. Valkyries tunnel is between one of the falls but to get to it you have to stop the water from flowing over the cliffs.”
“How do you reckon we do that?”
“There’s a sensor mechanism in the water like an hourglass funnel. It slows the flow of the water going over the cliffs within a certain diameter when it’s activated. This will make it possible to check the area for tunnels.  Shuri changed the algorithm to make it easier to hack for a normal person as she called it. She thinks Korath can do it given his track record.”
“I thought I wasn’t getting any outside help on this?” He questioned with a humorous grin on his face before taking a wide stance.
“Call it a one-time thing.”
“I’ll take what I can get. Thank you,” Peter sighed in contentment.
“You’re...wait, are you...are you peeing?”
“No,” he lied, zipping his pants back up.
“You’re lying.”
“Well….I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to drain the main vein.”
“Yeah, I didn’t need to hear that. Be safe.”
“You too, sweetheart.”
Peter walked back out of the forest to find Korath scanning the surroundings while Ronan stood there with their arms crossed across his chest. “What crawled up your butt, bro?”
“Lose the tracker.”
“Tracker? What tracker?”
“The one in your purse.”
“It’s not a purse, it’s a knapsack, and there’s no tracker in it.” Peter narrowed his eyes at him.
“Korath found it this morning when it was interfering with his tablet. Who have you been talking too?”
“Wow, searching through other people’s things. Real cool guys, thought we could trust each other.  And no, I haven’t been talking to anyone, I swear.”
“Then who put the tracker on you.”
“Shit, I don’t know, man. My neighbor. She’s gotten pretty suspicious of me, but I didn’t think she would’ve gone this far.” He opened his knapsack to find the small sticker inside. He ripped it off and held it in the air to examine it. “Huh? Well, this is some fancy tech. Am I right boys?” Korath scoffed as Peter threw it over the cliff into the river below. “Happy?”
“Yes. Let’s keep moving,” Ronan concurred, starting to walk upstream.
“Peter, you there? What are you doing? Why are you going down the stream?” You panicked. “If you are floating down that river dead, I will bring you back and kill you myself. Peter, answer me?”
“I’m fine,” he whispered loud enough for you to hear.
“Thank god. You fucking scared me, Peter! Don’t you dare do that again! Shuri’s going to be pissed you threw away her tech. You know this tech doesn’t just grow on trees, right? Scratch that, it might in Wakanda.” He smiled at your concern.
Peter heard pounding water flowing in the distance, and once they curved around the corner his eyes landed on Warrior Falls. Waterfall after waterfall flowed at once on both sides of the stream. One side of the stream had a higher elevation with various cliffs and plateaus creating small pools of standing water before toppling over into the river.  It was really something else.  He couldn’t take his eyes off it until the two men stood there glaring at him.
“Did I miss something?” Peter inquired, walking up to them.
“Last night, Korath narrowed down where the correct tunnel could be. But first, he has to hack into the funnel mechanism to stop the water flow,” Ronan shared.
“I guess it’s time to get kinky with some rope then, am I right fellas?” Peter said, rubbing his hands together with anticipation.
Korath hacked into the mechanism with ease slowing down the water flow over the cliffs. Peter took off his knapsack and started pulling out his climbing equipment. Rule #56: Pack more than what you think you’ll need. He drilled the blot into the stone and strung the cable through it as did Ronan and Korath. They scaled down the slippery cliffs, and after a days worth of searching they came up empty.
Another day was drawing to a close, and he didn’t hear a peep out of YN or the team for the past two days.  He couldn’t hear anything besides the rushing sound of the water, but at least this whole thing was almost over.
Peter moved onto the next cliff but stopped short when something caught his attention down below. He squinted his eyes, but with the sun setting, it was hard to tell what it could be. He continued to scale down until his feet hit a small pool of water on top of it. He unlatched himself from the cable and walked to the small opening in the corner. He called the other two men over before venturing inside.
“Who’s first?” Peter asked, getting no reply. “Okay, guess I’ll go first. Not like I wasn’t the one who found it in the first place, but hey, let’s send the expendable one in first,” Peter mumbled, entering the cave tunnel alone. He shined his flashlight inside only seeing darkness. “Okay, you got this, your Star-Lord. All I have to do is find this necklace, get my mom back, then get the girl. We’ll all live happily ever after like Kevin Bacon.”
Walking through the dark and quiet tunnel, he beamed his flashlight until he stepped into a dim lit room. A language Peter didn’t recognize was written on the walls and skeletons laid on the ground wearing protective gear. A stone pillar sat in the center of the room with grooves carved into the top. This had to be the place he read about. “I thought this place was a myth.”
“A myth, no, this place and the stones are very real,” Ronan stated, coming out of the tunnel with an evil look plastered on his face. “Now, where is the Soul Stone?”
Valkyrie left this cave leaving behind the Soul Stone. If she never returned, it should be on the pillar, but Peter saw no sign of it anywhere. Did she come back after her tribe exiled her? Peter’s eyes wandered around the cave seeing glass bottles, tankards, and goblets laying all over the ground. In every book he read about these stones each one mentioned Valkyries drinking problem. This further proved his theory. She must’ve returned and hid the stone away from those who wouldn’t understand it. Maybe, she didn’t die from drinking but from protecting the stone.
“Quill, any ideas?” Ronan asked as Peter rubbed his forehead continuing to think. “Quill.”
“Valkyrie came back.”
“Who?” Korath asked.
“Come on man, Valkyrie. The badass woman that left her village in search of new aspirations.  The one who found these stones in the first place. She came back for the stone she left behind.”
“Why does that matter?” Ronan questioned, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Well, I think she came back to destroy it but found out she couldn’t, so she stayed here to protect it," Peter answered, resting his hands on his hips.
“Then, what did she do with it?”
“Best guess, she hid it in the walls or buried it somewhere.”
“Let’s search everywhere.”
Peter sat against the wall out of breath. They’ve been at this for hours only to come up with nothing, again. The room was dark with the only light coming from their flashlights. He tried to contact YN’s team, but all he heard was silence. Did his comm unit stop working after all the water activity? And if the Wakandans knew the stone was here, why haven’t they tried to retrieve it?
“Quill, get off your ass and find it. We are running out of sunlight,” Ronan sneered, kicking Peter’s boot.
“We are out of sunlight idiot. It’s pitch black in here.”
“I don’t care. What do you think flashlights are for?”
Peter stood up and patted the dirt off his pants.  He stepped over to the pillar in the center of the room to take a closer look at it. “One, two, three, four, five,” Peter counted, shining his flashlight over the grooves. Then, he counted again. “Did no one think to count the grooves in this thing?” Peter inquired, pointing his flashlight in Ronan and Korath face.
“No, what’s the point? There are six stones so six grooves.” Ronan spoke up.
“Yeah, well I’m not so sure about that because I only count five grooves.”
“What?” Ronan rushed over, pushing Peter out of the way to count them for himself. “We have been searching for a stone that doesn’t exist?”
“Not exactly, it could be a key, you know like all five stones open a door, or hatch of some sort to retrieve the sixth stone. Have neither of you seen a movie?” Ronan and Korth stared at him dumbfounded. “Do either of you have the stones along with you?”
“I’ll make a call to The Collector. Korath, I will need your assistance with the connection.” They leave heading back out the tunnel, and Peter breaks into a dance and starts singing Eye of the Tiger by Survivor.
“Peter, you hear me?” your voice rang statically through his ear making him stop and glance back at the entrance before he answered.
“Yes.”
“Nice dance moves,” you chuckled.
“Thanks! Wait, you can see me?” He asked, shining the flashlight around the room.
“Clear as day. Shuri installed these Ultra HD cameras she invented down there, but trust me, you won’t find them. They’re the size of a thumbtack, and they can camouflage themselves.” He huffed, observing the room with his flashlight again only to find nothing.
“No kidding! Then, this one’s for you, sweetheart.” He started dancing again and shaking his hips forcing a giggle out of you.
“What are you celebrating?”
“The Collector’s coming to Wakanda, and he’s bringing the necklaces with him.” Peter shuffled in place doing the Single Ladies dance. “Then the FBI, being you and the team,--” he pointed to an area on the wall then pointed to a different area before shrugging "--will take his ass down, and sweetheart, that’s worth celebrating.” Rule #1: Never fall in love.
AN: Things are getting deep! Do you think their plan will work out? What kind of trickery do you think Valkyrie created in order to protect the stone? Will it be an easy in and out, or will someone not make it to the end? Find out next week! As always thanks for reading!
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The 3am Adventures of Captain Insomnia and the Barefoot Wonder
A/N: Hi, people! I don’t remember the last time I posted a fic on here, BUT I was going through my drafts and finally mustered up the wherewithal to finish something! SO, without further ado, here is the 4th (ridiculous) chapter of my Soul Eater College!AU. This one’s way less emotional and way more snarky and funny than the last one, so if that chapter wasn’t your cup of tea, maybe this one will be better. This one’s not as connected and linear as the others, but it was fun to write.  It’s literally been years, so if anyone actually reads this, bless you. Hope you enjoy! (It’s literally so ridiculous, and I’m so sorry.) 
Chapter 1     Chapter 2     Chapter 3
Summary: Soul can’t sleep, so his natural course of action is to drag Maka out of bed. Lots of snarking and flirting ensues. 
Word Count: 2,123
Genre(s): College!AU; humor, slice of life, slight romance
Characters/Pairings: Soul Evans, Maka Albarn, Liz Thompson; implied/pre-SoMa
Warnings: arguing/bickering, yelling
Maka had half a mind to hurl her shrieking cell phone across her room when it disturbed a much needed and (to that point) full night of sleep. She grumbled choice words between gritted teeth as she thrashed around, untangling herself from her warm cocoon of blankets and sliding open the device just before it went to voicemail.
“What?” 
“What are you so crabby about?” An all-too familiar gravelly tone snarked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Maka quipped, sitting up now as she glared a hole through her door. “Maybe because it’s 3am, I was FAST ASLEEP, and I have a damn final tomorrow.”
“Oh shit, is it 3am already?”
“3:06, to be exact.”
“Sorry, Maka, I swear: the last time I looked it was 11:30.”
 “Yeah, well, we’re way past that now, aren’t we?”
When he didn’t respond, she sighed, pushing her bangs back with a huff as she conceded, “So what’s up? What possessed you to call me in the first place?”
“I....can’t sleep.”
“Seriously?” She flopped back onto her pillows with a flourish, most of her body and half of her mind screaming at her to hang up. “Soul, go take some Tylenol PM or drink some warm milk or something.”
“Lactose intolerant.” 
“Never stopped you from chugging it from my carton.”
He grunted. “And the PM stuff makes you feel like you have a hangover, without the booze or the vomiting.”
“True. What do you want me to do about it, Captain Insomnia?”
“Take a ride with me.”
“Sooooul it’s 3:12 in the morning, dammit, I have a final in 5 hours.”
“I know, I know, just...” His voice became rougher than usual, but somehow small, like a timid child. “Please? I promise I’ll have you back in less than an hour.”
“Fine.” She threw off her blessed heat for good, nearly stubbing all of her toes as she stumbled blindly to her closet. “Where....are you?” She asked as she pulled on a hoodie and yoga pants. 
“Green parking, right outside your dorm.” She could practically hear his cheeky, shark-toothed grin. 
“You’re such an ass.”
“You love it.”
“Not right now.” She opted for bare feet when she eyed the pile of shoes next to her desk, and in seconds she was down the hall and out the back stairwell, waving her best friend and his (in her opinion) tacky orange motorcycle toward her. 
“The hell are your shoes?” He quirked a brow at the bare foot she was about to sling over his bike. 
“Don’t need them.” She retorted, thrusting said foot toward his face. “We’re just going for a ride, right?” 
“Yeah, suit yourself.” He shrugged as she settled into her seat and wrapped her arms around his waist. 
After they drove for a little while, she nudged him and yelled over the wind, “Where are we headed?”
“Anywhere but my dorm!” He called back, an obvious grimace on his lips. 
“How about Waffle House?”
“You’re not wearing any shoes, Maka!”
“No one cares, it’s just Waffle House! Plus it’s Liz’s shift, so I bet we can get in anyway.”
“Alright, to the kingdom of cholesterol it is.”
~
It was 3:30 on the dot when they pulled up to the small, brightly lit eatery. 
“Looks like we’re the only ones here.” Maka noted.
“Yeah, just means we might get our heart attacks faster.” Soul chuckled, holding the door open for Maka to walk in before him.
“Hey, you crazy kids,” a familiar tone rang out as they approached the counter. “What’re you two doing up so late? Or early, depending on how you look at it.” Liz added with an eye roll.
“Soul couldn’t sleep.” Maka reported, thrusting her thumb over her shoulder at the shrugging albino. “So he dragged me out here.”
“Hey, WaHo was your idea, Maka-”
“But sneaking over to my apartment and guilting me out of bed was yours-”
“Alright you two, knock it off. You sound like an old married couple, jeez.” Liz interjected, waving them over to a nearby booth with a cursory glance at Maka’s bare feet. “I only took this shift because it’s an easy one, so don’t screw that up for me.” 
“Sorry.” Maka grumbled, and Soul grunted something unintelligible in apology.
The blonde’s features softened just a hair, and she asked, “What’ll you have?”
“Just a glass of orange juice, please.” Maka quickly replied. “It’s way too late to be eating anything.”
“I’ll go for the All-Star Special.” Soul handed Liz his menu and shot Maka a look. “I call it beating the birds to breakfast. Something about eating grease on grease in the early morning hours that gives me the warm and fuzzies.”
“You’re so weird.” Maka propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her fists, staring at Soul in silence for a few moments.
“What?” He suddenly looked uncomfortable, as if he could feel her probing his mind. 
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“What could be bothering you so much that you’d wake me up at this time of night just to get me out of my dorm and take a ride, then come to a place you have an obvious love/hate relationship with.” 
“Sounds too complex for this hour.”
“It wouldn’t be if you’d tell me what’s wrong.” She bit back, giving Liz a grateful nod as she set down a full glass of orange juice.
“Nothing is wrong.” Soul retorted, his eyes shielded from her glare by his unruly bangs. “I told you: I just can’t sleep.”
“Mkay, whatever you say.” She quipped, sipping her juice with a pointed glare.
“You’re impossible.” He sighed, opting to look out the window into the darkened wasteland of Death’s Valley.
They sat in silence until their food came, playing eye tag with one another until Liz set their food in front of them.
~
“What if you had forks for hands?” Soul suddenly asked, his final forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth.
Maka raised a brow as she sipped on her orange juice. “What?”
“Like that movie, Edward Scissorhands. What if it was forks instead of scissors.”
“You’d probably be just as screwed. You couldn’t do anything with forks for hands.” Maka giggled, mimicking trying to pick up a salt packet without proper appendages. 
“God, imagine trying to wipe-”
“Ew, Soul, shut up! Did you have to make it gross?” She scoffed. “You’re such a guy.” But Soul caught the small grin she tried to hide behind her cup.
“Hey, I see you smiling!” He grabbed at the cup just in time for her to jerk back, effectively sloshing and spilling the sweet liquid down the front of her hoodie and onto her pants.
“Ah, damn-” They cursed in unison, locking eyes but for a second before Maka slammed down the glass, causing small waves of juice to spill onto the table. They both grabbed for the napkins, too quickly on both ends, and just ended up knocking the dispenser behind the counter. 
“Uh, Liz?” Soul called. “Can you-”
“I though I told you two to behave!” Liz stomped over with a handful of paper towels, death staring the both of them as she slopped up their mess. “If you two would quit flirting and just get it all out there already...” Liz trailed off, grumbling to herself as the pair of youths sat slumped, cheeks blazing beneath her fury and assertions. 
“S-sorry Liz...” Maka managed to mumble out as the woman carefully toted an armful of soggy, yellow-orange paper towels to the nearest trash can. 
“Yeah, well, that’s what I get for telling people I work the graveyard shift.” She sighed, carefully laying their check where the table wasn’t damp. “You better leave me a good tip.” She winked and strode toward another booth, now occupied by what looked like another college student. 
“Definitely. Sorry about all of this.” Maka glared at Soul as they stood and whispered, “it’ll never happen again.”
The young man just rolled his eyes and shrugged her off as he grabbed the check and pulled out his wallet, leaving Liz a $20 tip to compensate for their antics. 
“Alright, Soul,” Maka stated as she swung her leg over his bike once more. “This little escapade is over. Take me home; I want to sleep.”
“Fine, fine, whatever.” He grumbled, revving the orange motorcycle and taking off into the night.  
~
When they were once again in front of Maka’s building, she hurriedly swung off the bike, but an unsteady hand grabbed her sleeve before she could hightail it back inside. 
“Maka-”
“Apology accepted, now let me go back to bed, Soul.” She whispered harshly, not wanting her neighbors to see her like this.  
“What? Oh yeah, sorry for spilling juice on you and all that, but, uh, no, that’s not it....I want to show you something.”
“It can’t wait until tomorrow?” Maka shivered, her teeth chattering as a slight breeze swept through the parking lot.
“I mean, I guess it could, but...” His voice dropped to a barely audible whisper, and she could detect the slightest hint of a tremble behind words. His gaze fell away from hers, and she laid her hand on his arm. 
“What?”
“I’ve been composing again.”
“Really? That’s awesome, Soul!” 
“Yeah, and I wanted to let you listen to what I have so far.”
“I’d love to, but...shouldn’t you show like, Liz or Kidd or someone? They appreciate music a lot more than I do.”
“I don’t want a real opinion.” He dodged her swipe at him with a chuckle. “Not saying your opinion isn’t real! Just...not a musical one. This one is kind of personal, is all. It’s not really like the ones I played for my recital last semester.”
“Oh” was all she could reply with before he was drawing out his IPhone and handing her the earbuds. 
He pushed play, and nothing happened.
“Soul, are you-”
“It starts out quiet. Just listen.” He mumbled, his gaze locked on his feet as sound began to seep into her ears. 
“Oh, I hear it-” A nice little tune filled her ears, and she nearly sighed in contentment as the even, almost whimsical pattern swirled around her. She smiled toward him, but he still wouldn’t look at her.
“Soul, this is-” The cheery piece suddenly slowed, faded into something with a sadder sound, more melancholy and drawn out. A cello declared its sorrowful tale as the piece picked up again, loud, dramatic, enough to prompt tears at the corners of her eyes as she listened, fixated on each pitch. The piece calmed again, but the notes were discordant, constantly stumbling over one another, seeming to smack right into one another as they tried to make sense of what they were conveying. Then, the whole sound seemed to change again, something serene, calm. She felt like she was sitting in a breezy meadow full of flowers, or a vegetated hillside. Even after the final, resounding note had long since left her headspace, Maka sat staring.
She found her hands where trembling and a couple of tears had even snaked down her cheeks as she reached up to pluck the earbuds out. Soul must have noticed, too, because when she looked up to hand the headphones back, his brows were creased in worry, his eyes wide. “Did you like it?” He finally rasped out.
“I....I loved it. I think...I feel like....I finally understand your music now.” She wiped the tear tracks away. “This is your real music, isn’t it? What you want to compose.” 
“What I would compose if I had my own way, yeah.”
“It was moving. It was heartbreaking, but so touching, too. I just...wow.”
“Not everyone likes music that changes so much, but it’s important for that piece.”
“I did. I do, I mean. It was just...like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Like I was listening to your heartbeat, or your soul or something.”
“Something like that.” He grinned shyly, shoving the IPhone into his pocket as another breeze picked up around them. “Sorry I dragged you out, but thanks for coming with me. It was nice to have someone along for the ride this time.”
“Yeah, no prob-” She stopped short when he was suddenly closer to her; his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace.
“Thank you, Maka.” He whispered, planting the softest of kisses on the crown of her head before he released her, turning quickly toward his bike and mounting it before she could reply. “See you tomorrow.” He called back before revving up the bike once more and flying off toward his apartment.
“You’re welcome, Soul.” Maka whispered into the breeze, turning to go back to her own room as Soul’s taillights faded from sight.
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neuro-undetermined · 4 years
Text
Quarantine (Surreal Horror Story)
*tw: mention of hallucinations, going “crazy”, quarantine due to the current virus*
April 14th
It’s the 32nd day of isolation. I haven’t left the house in over a month at this point. Staying indoors is the best option, but I’ve been bored as hell. I thought starting a journal might help stave off the day-to-day monotony just a bit. Haven’t tried this since my angsty middle school days, but we’ll see where it goes. The only person I saw today was the delivery man who picked up my groceries for this week. His teeth were incredibly white. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone with such white teeth. Either that or I just haven’t seen another person in so long and I forgot what teeth look like. Maybe next time I get groceries I should order some whitening strips…
 April 17th
Day 35. Will this damn thing ever end? The only news is bad news and the death tolls keep rising exponentially. I haven’t seen my friends in so long and now all of our texts feel like the same conversation over and over again. I guess none of us are doing anything really. I can’t even remember the last time I heard from Janice. I wonder how she’s doing with the kids and that lazy husband of hers. I heard last week he called folding the laundry “emasculating.” Can you believe? Get off your ass and learn to fold your own underwear Greg!
Oh shit! The electricity went out! That’s just what I need right now, a pandemic and faulty wiring. I tried calling the electricity company, but all I got was a voicemail. Ugh. Maybe it’s just too late at night. I’ll try again tomorrow morning.
 April 19th
Day 37. I think? That’s what my phone and my computer say. But I could have sworn I went to bed on the 17th and just woke up. Maybe I just wrote the date down wrong on the last entry. I don’t know. I’m going crazy anyways. Good news is the electricity is back! They must have just had a faulty cable or something. I tried watching the news again today. Same pretty people in nice pressed clothes telling us all how bad it is and then trying to inspire hope and say it will all be over soon. Ha! No one believes it, Karen. Not even you. On another note, I just got groceries a few days ago and all my snacks are already gone! I swear, by the time this is all over I will have eaten my own weight in Bugles.
 April 21st
Day 39. A funny thing happened today. This long without human contact has just made me go bonkers. I was sitting around doing nothing, you know like usual. Then I heard my doorbell ring. I swear I never ordered anything. I looked out the door, but no one was there. So I opened the door, and sitting right at my front step…was groceries! All the stuff I was out of too. I wander if the neighbors are handing out care packages. If so, we must have the same taste in food, because they left all the stuff I normally eat. There were Bugles, Oreos, turkey meat (I hate ham), grapefruits. Who puts grapefruit in a care package? That’s kind of a risky move considering how many people don’t like it and how many people shouldn’t be eating it due to medical complications. Oh well, I think it’s delicious. Maybe once this is all over I should try to actually get to know my neighbors. They seem cooler than I thought.
 April 25th
I’m losing my mind. This is it. This is how I end up in a psychiatric hospital singing old nursery rhymes to myself. It’s been over a month and I just realized I don’t remember seeing a single drop of rain. I live in Oregon…in the spring. It should never stop raining. But there has been no rain or snow or any precipitation to speak of. It’s been blue or slightly grey skies all month. But here’s the real kicker…all my plants are as healthy as they have ever been. I don’t have a sprinkler system (because again, Oregon), and if I did I wouldn’t have it running this early in the year. The grass and trees here can’t survive on no water for nearly 6 weeks, but they almost look better than ever. I mean I’m not complaining. It’s just...weird.
 April 28th
Okay, okay, okay. I need to calm down. I need to take a couple deep breathes and calm down. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. I’m officially hallucinating. I was in my backyard sunbathing (again, still no rain). I opened my eyes briefly and caught a glimpse of something in my oak tree more than 20 feet up. It was a creature. The top half looked like a person…sort of. It had a head and two other appendages, let’s just say that. But the bottom half. The bottom half kind of reminded me of an ant, if ants had about a dozen more legs. And it was massive. I must have been hallucinating because there was no way the tiny tree branch it was on could have held the weight of a creature that big. It immediately swiveled its head towards me and I nearly screamed. It crawled? Slunk? Skittered? behind the tree trunk and just was gone! Once I willed myself to move again, I sprinted into the house and locked the door. I almost called 911, but stopped. Like they would believe me? A lonely woman who’s been stuck indoors for nearly two months reports seeing a monster from 30 feet away just “disappear into a tree.” Yeah right. I really am crazy. It might be worth it to get out of the house just to stave off the cabin fever a little bit.
 April 30th
I haven’t gone outside again. I know I need to. I know it would help my mental health. But I just can’t. I’m too afraid that thing is going to be there again. Hallucination or not, I think if I saw it again I would have a heart attack. Every time I try to leave the front door I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m just too scared. I just feel like it’s watching me. I’ve closed all the blinds and checked the locks I don’t know how many times. Also I don’t know if it’s just me, but the same news that was shown yesterday is on the TV again today. It’s almost like it’s looping the same story over and over again.
   May?????
This is officially the end. I am never going to make it out of this quarantine. I woke up this morning on the couch and when I went to get up, something crunched under my feet. It was my computer and my cell phone. Someone had taken a knife to both of them and left it at my feet! Of course I checked all the windows and locks, but they were all fine! Now I have no idea what day it is. I sort of know what time it is, but I never bothered to reset the digital clocks in my house when the electricity went out. I won’t even know when they end quarantine! The news on the TV is definitely set to loop every couple hours. It’s just the same thing over and over again. Oh god, do I even hear myself? This is all crazy! No one just trashes their electronics in a blind rage and then just forgets about it! I need…I need…I don’t know what I need. I need to leave.
 ????
It’s hopeless. I’m stuck. Those things, the creatures, are all over my house. They won’t go away. They skitter up the walls and back down the walls, over the windows and across the yard. There’s always at least one sitting, watching the front of the house. And one at the back of the house. They aren’t trying to get in. They’re just…there. I don’t know what they’re doing, but the pitter patter of their appendages running up and down the walls keeps me up at night. Maybe I’m just crazy. Am I crazy?
 Am I?
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sending-the-message · 6 years
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Truth or dare, or how I french kissed a corpse by LithiumLidya
This story itself started rather innocently, as a game of truth or dare. For those who aren't familiar (if such people exist), it's a game where you spin a bottle and whoever gets heads can ask a question or give a dare to the person who got tails. There are variations from place to place (such as a limited number of truths or an inversion of the head/tails axis), but in essence, that's it. What's more important, however, it's the people here involved.
I may have to say that no locations will be provided, and all names are fake. You can call me Lidya, for a start.
The school year ended in early July, as usual, and the end of high school meant most of us were going to different colleges, different countries even, and we would probably never see each other ever again. It wasn't a big deal for me, since I wasn't close to many of my classmates. However, one of my closest classmates wasn't okay with that. Magdalene is an emotional person, one to get attached easily, and she wanted us to reunite for one last time during this August, before the start of classes in college in September.
Am I friends with Magdalene? Not exactly. It's a complicated story; before certain events we never talked, exactly. During earlier years of high school, she was bullied pretty badly because one time, she broke her nose and it became crooked a la Owen Wilson. It ended up being so bad that she actually got a nose job later, but even though she forgave them for what they did, I didn't. I was one of the few who stood up for her most of the times, and we were on good terms, but nothing more. Until one day she appeared outside during break, where Eric (my childhood friend/lover/friends with benefits) and I used to go for our deep and pretentious philosophical conversations, and decided we were friends. I think it's more gratitude of her than anything, but whatever. She extended this gratitude towards Eric as well and so this semi friendship came to be.
Our place of reunion was a classmate's, Claire, house. Her parents were traveling, as most people do during summer, and she lived quite far from the downtown area, so the neighbors wouldn't be so close to complain about the noise; besides, she had a pretty big house. Most of our classmates didn't come, though: some were on vacation, some already preparing for university, some had left the city or the country... In the end, only nine of us, including myself, could come; less than half of our class, actually.
I suppose this is an oportune moment to present you to the characters of that night. You already know me: Lidya, your narrator, pleasure to meet you. Then we have Eric and Magdalene, both already mentioned. In sequence, we have Claire, class president, and her boyfriend and source of Magdalene's greatest angst, Adam. We also have Aglaé and Edgar, the twins, Sebastian, Edgar's friend, and Léon, who happened to be Magdalene's crush. In fact, it looks so painfully bland that you could slide us as typical teenagers, your perfect horror movie cast.
Our reunion started with drinking. I don't drink alcohol, so thankfully they had soda in there, but almost everyone drank exclusively alcohol. At some point someone suggested that we should play truth or dare and we all agreed, for whatever reason. The game started innocent enough: who was your crush, have you ever cheated in an exam... Nothing out of ordinary. Then we all became sleepy, and before I could imagine, we all fell asleep.
You can imagine my surprise when I woke up handcuffed to Eric in the basement. But that wasn't even the scariest part: there was a body in the middle of the room.
The body was from one of our classmates, Léon. He had been stabbed in the chest, and blood stained the once pristine grey carpet. Our other classmates were there as well. We were handcuffed in pairs, except, of course, for the body.
We all searched for our phones, but it was pointless, they were nowhere to be seen. However, during our search, we found a recorder in Léon's pocket. Who even has a recorder in 2017? Apparently, the murderer... It was both anticlimactic and terrifying at the same time, in a completely uncanny way, to find such an outdated thing in a dark basement inside a pocket from a dead person's jeans. The whole scene felt so surreal that even remembering it now leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. I really thought it could be a prank, until Adam got over Léon to get the recorder back and just said: "oh my God, it's real! He's dead, it's real blood!".
Evaluating this now, I already knew we were doomed. Deep in my bones, the worst and most intense fear I've ever felt took me over. Léon was dead, and soon enough it wouldn't be the most frightening experience of that unholy night.
But we ended up listening to the recorded tape, for lack of option.
"Hello. I want to play a game. If you don't follow my instructions, all of you will die. Listen and do as instructed. In this room, there's a corpse of one of your classmates. Next to him, is a bottle filled with papers, each should take the paper written with your name, but don't open it yet."
I wasn't feeling this Jigsaw bullshit, but considering how obedient everyone else was, I was left with no choice.
"Now you will play truth or dare. Head asks, tails answers. In your paper, there's a question for truth you should read out loud and answer truthfully. I don't like cheating and I already know all the answers for those questions. In case you would rather have a dare... Each paper also has a dare written for someone else. Whoever has the dare directed at you should read it out loud and well... You should do it.", the stranger said. It was pretty obvious that his voice had been altered, like what they do to witnesses on TV.
"And why should we do this, you sick fuck?", Claire's boyfriend, Adam, said, screaming at the recorder.
Almost if it predicted our question, our answer came. "Why should you do this? Because I am outside this door right now and I'll kill you if you don't."
Chills ran down my spine as we got up to see the door. We screamed for help as if there was no tomorrow: the basement was below ground level and its windows were too tiny for a baby to pass through. The door was locked with heavy chains and padlocks from the basement side, and something heavy was blocking it from even moving from the other side. There was no way out.
"But I shall remember you... Once you use up your truth, there's only dare to pick. Start now."
I opened my paper to read what was written. Let's just say that the question was something I wouldn't ever answer to unless my life was in danger. I was hoping the dares wouldn't be as fucked as this question, but once the bottle started spinning, I doubted my choice was right. The bottle landed on two known figures: Eric as heads, Adam as tails.
"Truth or dare?", Eric asked.
The answer surprised us far more than we expected. Adam was always know for his bravery and cockery, but it seems that his fear got the best of him. "Truth.", Adam said. He took some time before reading the question. "Does your girlfriend knows... About the time you sexually assaulted someone?"
It caused an uprising between us. This is a serious accusation, and well, you might already know that I have a low tolerance for this kind of trash. His answer, though, only made everything worse. "No."
Claire was pissed as fuck, and two others had to hold her down. "When were you planning on telling me you're a fucking rapist, Adam? Holy shit, I can't believe this. Tell me this is a lie, tell me."
"It's not... I-I...", he pleaded, crying. Utter disgust filled me, and now I was the one who wanted to fuck him up. "I-I'm sorry, Magdalene, about that day, I...".
Oh, the plot twist.
Magdalene started crying immediatly, as loudly as a human being could. "WAS IT YOU? OH MY GOD, NO!"
Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold. The punches and slaps she gave him after this revelation was much less than he deserved. Eric tried to calm her down, but frankly, he knew that she had every fucking right to fuck him up and I'd gladly help.
Second round. Aglaé gets heads, Sebastian gets tails. Dare, he says. His dare was to receive a punch from the person of his choice; he chose Aglaé, who took it easy on him. Third round. Edgar gets heads, Claire gets tails. Dare, she says. Her dare was to be tied up from her wrists and ankles for the upcoming round.
Fourth round. Magdalene gets heads, Edgar gets tails. Truth, he says. His question didn't regard a particulary sensitive topic: "how do you feel after flooding the bathrooms to avoid a Math test?". He said he didn't feel particulary happy about it, but didn't regret. Fifth round. Aglaé gets heads, Eric gets tails. Dare, he says.
"I dare you to be stabbed by the person of your choice in this room.", Magdalene read the paper with a trembling voice. There was a knife next to Léon's corpse, stained with blood. His blood.
"Who do you choose?", Adam asked.
"Lidya.", Eric said.
Out of all the choices he could make, he made the smartest, even though not what I hoped for. I have to say that stabbing someone you love is really hard, and the more I thought about it, the more my hands seemed to shake in pure dread. I could kill him. A simple mistake and I could kill him. He prepared himself, holding my tights as firmly as he could.
But, being me, I made the safest choice and stabbed him in the left arm, his non dominant side, and not deeply. He screamed so loudly that I was deafened for a moment. As he later explained, he trusted me to find a loophole in the set dare and save him, and I'd say I'm very honored by his trust, especially because I was nowhere near my right mind to make sensible decisions. Blood squirted over me, and we made a bandage out of his ripped shirt to stop the bleeding.
There was a big silence following this incident. Eric was still shaking, and so were my hands. For someone who never thought I could be able to hurt someone, I proved myself wrong in the most despicable way possible.
But the game must go on. Sixth round. Claire gets heads, I get tails. I chose dare.
My dare was to french kiss the corpse for thirty seconds.
If it isn't luck to get the most fucked up dare of all. Of course I tried to find my way out of doing this, but it was too late. I knocked on the door to speak to the bastard behind it. "Hey, can I change from dare to truth?". No answer. I tried to plead and bargain, and flat out refused, until I saw that the door had a little creak open. I could see chains securing it from the inside, but also a gun pointed directly towards me coming from the outside. Good argument, buddy, sorry to bother you.
The worst part about kissing a corpse is not the smell (considering this was a very fresh body, the only recognizable smell was Léon's minty cologne). Oh no. It's like kissing a bad kisser, who doesn't move their tongue at all... But with blood. So much blood coming through his mouth and flowing through mine that I had to spit it out before I got to the first ten seconds. I vaguely remember hearing screams as I spat out blood, but I assume my brain shut down due to the circunstances or else I would have either thrown up or passed out.
I went through it somehow, until the moment when Léon's corpse started to kiss me back.
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