#sure hope this shows up in the tags my last set of eight didn't even show up on my own bloody dash

[tatort-sideblog]

Gegen Tote wird nicht ermittelt, das wissen Sie.

Karow & Rubin Meta

#tatort #tatortedit #tatort berlin #nina rubin #meret becker #robert karow #mark waschke #meta #* #sure hope this shows up in the tags my last set of eight didn't even show up on my own bloody dash #sorry for the flickering in the some of these i still haven't quite worked out how to use those photoshop curves #ich liebe diesen moment #und gods ninas augen sind so verdammt schön

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris #f1 x you #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris one shot

[aemonds-little-belle]

FEELINGS SOLD SEPARATLY

CHAPTER TWELVE (THE BURN)

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Notes - TW (Burn mentions, First degree)

TAGS - (REPOSTED FROM AO3)

Alternate Universe - Sugar DaddySugar BabySugar Baby AUAUokay this is a whole ass story that's just one long ass brain fartliterally i am just coming up with this on the spotlow key really love it thoughSugar Baby/Sugar Daddyobviouslytalks of class issuesaemonds been hurt in the pasti think there will be some sexy stuff eventuallywait fuck i didn't mention this is a modern!aumodern!AUAlternate Universe - Modern Setting<3Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen is Bad at Feelingsstop that was recommended but so accurateI don't know how to do tagsI'm SorryI promise it's goodAnd no one diesand it's just so classically a sugar baby/ sugar daddy au it hurtsreader works at a cafe ... obviouslythis will follow a similar storyline to the show just modern and also not at allFamily Issueswait probably dom/sub vibes tooDom/subLight Dom/subclearly i don't know where this is going yetmy readers are always written fat because i am fatso keep that in mindSlow Burnit's so slowbut I think it's greatlike genuinely two idiots in lovebut they take soooo long to noticeUghI love fanfiction

“Okay.” Y/n sighed as she walked back to the counter, phone in one hand, apron in the other. “I did the quiz.” 

“And?” 

“I’m ninety eight percent a submissive.” Y/n whispered, showing  her phone screen to Eyla, the number and the word ‘Congrats!’ now in her line of sight. 

“And how do you feel?” She asked. 

“I don’t know.” Y/n mumbled, putting her phone down before tying on her apron. “It’s not like it’s going to do anything. I’m not going to bring any of this up unless he does.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I just became a sugar baby four days ago.” Y/n began busying herself with the coffee makers once more. “I don’t think I’m ready to jump feet first into a whole new dynamic this soon, a much more serious one too.” 

“That’s fair.” Eyla sympathized, she was sure the idea would be overwhelming if it was her in the opposite position. “Do you think he’ll bring it up at all?” Y/n shook her head ‘no’. “Well has he said anything that makes you feel like he wants something more than just a sugar baby relationship?” 

Y/n sighed. “Last night he might have?” Y/n questioned, her body on autopilot as she began getting some drinks ready. “He kind of insinuated he wanted to see my lipdsomthels.” Y/n blurred the last few words. 

“Really?” Eyla sassed, her hand on her hip. “Come on, say it like a big girl.” 

Y/n took a deep breath. “I was pouting because he wouldn’t show me his other tattoos.” She began, Eyla raising her eyebrows in amusement. “And he said my pouty lips were cute.” 

“Okayyy.” Eyla encouraged her to keep going. 

“He said they were cute, but he’d rather see them do something else.” 

“You’re kidding!” Eyla squealed. “Y/n why didn’t you lead with that! You bitch!” Eyla laughed, throwing a towel at Y/n. 

“Because I don’t know if he meant it, you know, in a non friend way.” Eyla rolled her eyes. “Maybe he just meant he wanted to see me smiling instead of pouting.” Y/n offered, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Smile my ass.” Eyla scoffed. “He wants you on your knees, his dic…” 

“Eyla I sweat to the gods I will …” 

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop.” Eyla laughed. “But seriously? I think he wants more, a lot more, from you.” 

“Can we just move on?” Y/n pleaded. “As fun as it is to talk about this, I don’t want to get my hopes up.” 

 “Sure, why don’t you grab some sugar from the back, please?” Eyla batted her lashes. “And put your phone in your locker, I don’t need the police here about another stolen phone.” Eyla happily changed the subject, distracting Y/n from the previous conversations. 

“Right, sorry.” Y/n chuckled, grabbing her phone and quickly doing as asked, her fake lock easily removed, phone placed atop her jacket.

+

Getting sugar was a crappy job, the bags often breaking open, spilling sugar everywhere, and even just holding the bag got your clothing sticky, the task uncomfortable and something Eyla almost always tried to get out of. “Hi, what can I get you?” Eyla happily asked, relishing in her new found freedom of not getting the sugar from the back. 

“Two vanilla lattes please.” The one Woman said, her tone mocking in a way, as if Eyla should have just guessed what they wanted without difficulty. 

“Eyla!” Y/n shouted excitedly as she walked back to the counter. “I found a bag without any holes!” A smile was plastered on her face, pride swelling in her chest. 

“No way, that’s unfair.” Eyla pouted. “You should have left it for me.” 

“Oh please, remember when you left me the bag with an entire rip down the side? And then didn’t warn me about it?” Y/n raised her eyebrows. 

“Y/n?” A slightly familiar voice called out. “The Flea Bottom feeder, right before my own    eyes once again.” Nera chuckled, turning to the woman beside her. “This is Y/n, Aemonds new little whore.” 

“I wouldn’t call her little.” The second woman chuckled, looking Y/n up and down. “Huh, honestly I expected more from Aemond.” The women tutted. 

“Sorry, who are you?” Y/n asked, Eyla off to the side, still making the women's coffee, but ready to step in whenever necessary. 

“What?” The woman’s eyebrows furrowed, Y/n’s words clearly bothering her. “What do you mean who am I?” She looked to Nera, who shrugged her shoulders, though subtly surprised herself at the interaction. 

“I’m sorry, should I know who you are?” Y/n tried to remain as neutral as possible, though just the sight of Nera played on her nerves ever so loudly. 

“I’m Alys, Alys Rivers.” She said so smugly, as if she was waiting for a grand reaction. 

“Okay, nice to meet you.” Y/n nodded her head and walked off, picking up a coffee pot to make another order, the two women heard whispering behind her.

“I was Aemond’s Sugar Baby, and you took him from me.” Y/n froze. “Which is shocking, I mean who would want to be seen with someone who screams charity case!” She happily continued. “It’s so unlike Aemond to stoop so low, I mean really, do you think it’ll last? That he’ll keep you around? You’re just another whore f…” 

“Fuck!” Y/n screamed, the sound of spilled coffee filling the room, Y/n holding her hand out as her chest heaved. “Fuck!” Y/n began walking to the back, the sink in the bathroom her destination, the tears in her eyes limiting her vision, slowing her down, but she eventually found her way, the sink turned on immediately. “Fuck.” She whispered, too many emotions, too much physical pain, too much everything getting to her all at once. “Eyla!” Y/n cried, her hand under the water throbbing, the skin clearly irritated, her sobs drowned out by the running water. 

Eyla could hear Y/n in the back, the cries faint, but still there, the entire shop looking through the small opening leading to the back, trying to get a glimpse of anything. “Look, everyone, I’m going to have to close the shop early!” She yelled, trying to ensure she had everyone's attention, the crowd mumbling objections, though many began to file out. “I know, and I’m sorry. We’ll be open tomorrow as usual.” She explained, walking around the counter and urging people out, a few regulars wishing Y/n well as they left. “Fuck.” Eyla whispered as she flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’. 

“Eyla?” Y/n called out again, the running water still loud. 

“I’m going to get you some stuff, okay! I’ll be just a second!” Eyla shouted back. “Or twenty minutes.” She whispered to herself as she devised a plan, pacing a little before nodding, her walk to the back locker area a quick and determined one. “Fuck, okay.” Eyla tried to hype herself up. “I’m just calling a Targaryen, really, it’s not that big of a deal!” She whisper yelled, shaking her head back and forth. 

“Eyla I don’t know what to do.” She heard Y/n call out again, her voice sounding more and more shaky, the emotional breakdown just as prevalent as the physical one. 

“Just keep running it under some water, Y/n, you’re going to be fine!” Eyla lied, she had no idea how bad the burn was, or how much of her hand was burned, she was panicking. “Just, just getting something!” Eyla opened Y/n’s locker, her phone picked up, the screen turning on. “Shit okay.” Eyla panicked slightly, not knowing the password, though she soon realized there was none. The phone was newer than hers, but the contact list was one of the only things available on the screen, and Aemond’s contact the only one other than hers. “Come on, pick up, pick up.” She begged. 

“Little dragon?” A deep voice boomed from the other side. 

“Awww, wait, that's a really cute nickname!” Eyla cooed, a smile concealing the panic on her face. 

“Who is this? Where is Y/n?” Aemond quickly responded, clearly agitated. 

“Right, sorry.” Eyla took a deep breath. “I’m Y/n’s co-worker, there’s been an accident, nothing too serious, but she’s burned her hand.” 

“Okay, I’m on my way.” Aemond could be heard shuffling around, the sound of his dress shoes clicking along the tiled floors in his office building. 

“Um, look, she’s also really emotional. Right before the accident two girls came in and said some pretty shitty stuff.” Eyla admitted. 

“Do you know these two girls?” Aemond asked, ready to deal with whoever caused this. 

“No, but apparently you do.” Eyla said. “One said her name was Alys, and that she was a sugar baby of yours before...” 

“So you know about Y/n …” 

“Who do you think talked her into seeing you?” Eyla scoffed. “Dude you’re terrifyingly hot, she was ready to run the second she heard your voice, you’re welcome.” The mood quickly switched, Eyla back to her regular playful self, the fear of Y/n dying slowly fading. 

“Okay, I’m going to be there in, at the most, ten minutes.” Aemond huffed, his pace picking up as he made his way to his car. “Can you just keep her as calm as possible until then?” 

“Will do.” Eyla said, her sentence hardly finished before the line cut off. 

+

Aemond knocked on the glass door like a mad man, his hair all down, his hands anxiously running through it his whole drive over, shirt sleeves rolled up, a few buttons unbuttoned and his coat discarded in the car somewhere. “Hi, sorry.” Eyla whispered as she opened the door.

“Where is she?” Aemond all but yelled. 

“Just in the bathroom, to the left in the back.” Eyla pointed, trying her best to smile. 

“Y/n?” He called out as he got closer to the back, water running and soft cries guiding him to her. 

“Aemond?” Y/n croaked, crying even harder as she saw his blurry figure. 

“Hi, little dragon.” Aemond took in the situation, Y/n sat on the toilet, her hand draped into the sink, the water running, tears streaming down her cheeks and her non burned hand picking at her jeans, a few threads pulled out. “What happened, Hmm?” He asked, stepping into the room and crouching down, his hand resting on her knee, her hand laying atop his instead of destroying her jeans. 

“I.” A quick sob wracked through her body, Aemond’s hand rubbing soothing circles on her knee as the other reached for her face, cupping her cheek. “I spilled coffee everywhere, and I burned my hand.” She wiggled her hand in the sink, some water splashing over the edge. 

“Hmm.” Aemond hummed, standing up, leaning over quickly to give her forehead a quick peck. “I’m going to clean you up a bit, and then we’ll go home, okay?” Aemond kept his tone calm and soothing, his mind raging silently at what Alys had most likely said, what her words caused. He wished to storm to her house then, but he knew Y/n needed more help than she did protection at that moment. “Look at me.” He said, Y/n’s eyes finding his, her chin tilted up as he stood before her. 

“Aemond.” Y/n whispered, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She cried. “I know you were working today, and I really didn’t want Eyla to call you, you can go if you want, I’m really, I’m fi …”

“You’re not fine, little dragon.” Aemond finished her sentence. “You needed help, so I’m here.” 

“And your work is okay with that?” Y/n sniffled, Aemond’s thumb and forefinger now holding her chin, his eye trained on her. 

“Hmm.” He smirked. “I’m the boss, little dragon. Remember? I make the rules, I don’t follow them, same goes for my job.” 

Y/n cracked a small smile, Aemond’s presence calming, his smile, albeit a smirk, allowed for a break in the panic. “My hand really does hurt.” Y/n blurted out, not sure what to do with Aemond’s hand on her chin, and his unbreaking eye contact. 

“I’m sure it does, little dragon.” Aemond hummed, crouching down again to wipe the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs, his touch gentle and soft. “I’m going to get my first aid kit from the car, Hmm?” Aemond asked, Y/n nodding as he stood, wishing he would hold onto her face just a little longer, wipe her tears for just one more second instead of leaving, but he walked away, his hair swaying messily behind him. 

“Y/n?” Eyla knocked on the doorway, offering a sympathetic smile. “He’s super hot.” 

“Eyla!” Y/n laughed, her good hand wiping a few more of her stray tears, rubbing her nose against her sleeve slightly. “You’re right though.” Y/n let out another chuckle. 

“How’s your hand?” Eyla asked. 

“It hurts, but it’s fine, I’m sure it’s nothing.” Y/n weakly smiled, her words remaining her of the throbbing pain that was radiating through her hand. “I’m sure I’ll be back tomorrow with a cute bandaid.” 

“And hopefully a billion dollars for being a brave sugar baby.” Eyla teased. 

“If I had a billion dollars I would never step foot in this place again.” Y/n laughed. 

“What?” Eyla gasped, her hand pinned to her chest dramatically. “Not even to see me?” 

“I would take you with me you fool.” Y/n tilted her head, Eyla thanking her over and over. “How long do burns take to heal?” Y/n asked, looking at her hand. 

“I don’t know.” Eyla shrugged her shoulders, looking towards the sink too. 

“First degree burns take about a  week to heal.” Aemond turned into the room, a relatively large first aid kit placed next to Y/n as Aemond stood over the sink. 

“What if I have second degree burn?” Y/n questioned, Eyla stepping away to leave them be. 

“You don’t.” 

“How do you know?” Y/n’s eyes were tearing up, the water now turned off, no longer giving her an ounce of relife. 

“You’re racking up quite the bill today.” Aemond hummed, lifting the first aid kit to the sink and opening it. “First you don’t let me know you’ve been hurt, then you say you’re ‘fine’ instead of explaining how you really feel.” 

“I’m sorry.” Y/n breathed, her chest rising and falling rapidly, the pain amping up more and more. 

“I’m not done yet, little dragon.” Aemond tutted, shaking his head in disappointment. “You didn’t accept that my answer was final.” Aemond chuckled. 

“Aemond, my hand hurts, I’m not thinking the right way, please…” Y/n begged. 

“Are you trying to get out of a punishment?” Aemond raised his eyebrow, thoroughly amused. 

Y/n’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake. “No.” 

“So now you’re lying?” Aemond’s voice somehow got deeper, more intimidating. 

‘It’s a teacher talk.’ Y/n remembered Eyla’s words, though she had only known what a dominant was for a few hours, she felt quite sound now when it came to saying Aemond was one. “Yes, I’m, I’m sorry.” She admitted, eye’s now looking at the ground, Aemond patting some sort of gel onto her burn. 

“Hmm.” Aemond hummed. “Are you going to behave now?” Y/n nodded her head. “And are you going to take your punishment like a good sugar baby would? Or would you rather keep making a fuss about it?” He teased. 

“I won’t make a fuss anymore.” Y/n said, still not meeting Aemond’s eye. 

“Good girl.” Aemond quietly hummed, Eyla heard concealing a squeal from outside the room. “Come on, let’s get you home.” Y/n stood up, Aemond’s hand immediately falling to her back leading her out of the room. “Where’s your stuff?” He asked. 

“Just in here.” Y/n pulled on the lock, opening her locker and pulling out her coat. “Um, Eyla do you have my phone?” She quietly asked. 

“Yeah, sorry.” Eyla smiled, handing Y/n her brick of a phone. 

“Do your locks not work?” Aemond asked, standing a few feet away from the two, a lock in his hand, the thing clicking as Aemond closed it, then effortlessly opening it without trying. 

“They’re just for show.” Y/n admitted, walking towards Aemond, his face twisted in anger, confusion maybe. 

“Real locks are cheaper.” He looked to Y/n. “Why would you need fake ones?” 

“Mr Waxley checks are lockers sometimes.” Eyla added. “He doesn’t like us being able to hide things from him.” 

“So he makes you vulnerable to theft?” Aemond sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his eye squinted slightly as he tried to understand how this could possibly make sense. 

“They look like locks, Aemond.” Y/n grabbed the lock from his hands, hanging it back on her locker. “No one knows they're fake.” She reasoned. 

“Hmm.” He hummed, although he let the topic drop at that moment, he was already thinking about how to circle back to it.

#aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #modern au #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #sugar daddy!aemond targaryen #sb/sd!au #sugar baby!au

[quarter-life-crisis2]

~tag game~

list eight shows for your followers to get to know you

thanks @btscontentenjoyer for the tag, this is coming ages later cause I wanted to properly reply because I love this shit so much, I watch so many media video essays it's borderline unhealthy

I have a hard time maintaining favourites and always get a recency bias but anyway, in no particular order, some of my favourites/ most impactful shows with my thoughts that no one asked for under the cut

No pressure, but if you wanna get involved, gonna tag @moni-logues, @gimmethatagustd, @jjkeverlast, @magicshopaholic & @sailoryooons, @simp47koreancrackheads, @yoongiphoria cause I am curious :)

White lotus - a recent favourite for sureeeeeeeee. I devoured this show and absolutely loved it. When it was finished, I watched about 10 hours of youtube content about it, from set breakdown, additional details missed, interviews, costume design, psychoanalysis of the characters etc

Fleabag - all time classic, should be required viewing for everyone, so so so good, and I love that it didn't get extended past what the story needed. Phoebe Waller-Bridge is an amazing actress and creator

I may destroy you - watched it around the same time as Fleabag. Another great show, with such complex characters and discussion around intense topics, once again Michaela Coel is an amazing actress and creator. Watched a few long talks from her after this show regarding her life, career and this show

Death Note (the final one to steal from @btscontentenjoyer while I am brainstorming for these) - the anime that first got me into anime, and for sure one of the most memorable. So much room for discussion. Would love to sit and drink a glass of wine while philosophising on the nature of good and evil, power and who gets to decide the appropriate level of punishment. I've read some of the manga but need to go back and finish it

Attack on titan - (I am NOT up to date on this, I'm about 1-2 years behind. I know some of the twists towards the end but not the full picture) Another great one for conversation, so so many topics to cover, pretty controversial at times as well, so I would love to debate it with someone equally interested in chatting shit with endless pauses during watching

The good place - it's been a while since I watched this so I hope it stood the test of time, but what I will say is certain aspects of it really stuck with me and I reference it often. I think the premise and some of the conversation were very interesting and thought-provoking once again, and the way they presented the repercussions of our actions or what it means to be/do good was very intriguing

Game of Thrones - I mean, it's problematic and it ended... well it ended... let's leave it at that, BUT I watched it religiously for years, I used to go to my friend's house after high school and we'd all gather to watch it which was lots of fun (also maybe not age appropriate?). I did enjoy most of it for the insane plots and completely unhinged and fucked up characters, it was so meaty and could really get into character motivations and psychology which is my jam

Arcane - I devoured this when it came out. This led me to look into the animation style and watch breakdowns of it because it was so amazing. But even without it, the story is amazing and very well delivered, even for someone not interested in LoL. Another one filled with grey characters, impossible decisions, societal analysis and dystopian settings. I really hope they continue in the same style and quality for the following season.

I have so many shows I love. Love, sex and robots, Hearstopper (haven't seen the recent season), Sex Education, Skins UK - watched as a kid, for sure problematic but fucking loved it at the time, Misfits, The Boys, OMG THE BOYS, Black Mirror, still.... though not all of it, which is to be expected, Thirty Nine OMG Thirty Nine, Hospital Playlist!!!!! these last two are my favourite kdramas for sureeeeee, Tokyo Ghoul, Stranger Things, Scarlet Heart - my gateway drug into Korean entertainment, aaand I'm gonna stop but I very obviously like a lot of shit and have minimal editing and summarising abilities.....

#lia thoughts

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

#james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnesxreader #bucky x y/n #james barnes fanfiction #james barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws x reader #tfatws #samuel wilson #sam wilson #john walker #angst #anger #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #tfatws fanfiction #anti john walker

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 39

The Road So Far

Is this still worth it?

The SEVEN Inch Wound

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141 Base - Gym

Roach finally got his seal of approval. After weeks of physical therapy and daily check ups, he was now finally fit for battle and he was lucky enough that Nero was still under the radar. He wouldn't want to miss out on the battle he started. He was lucky enough that they were exonerated when Shepherd surrendered, because if they continued to be fugitives, Roach would not have access to appropriate medical attention.

It has been almost a month after the events in Afghanistan and Task Force 141 was already re-established, Samantha and Maxine were housed on a nearby compound where veteran's families lived under the safety of government protection. During his time in the infirmary, Maxine was always there to visit, telling him tales about dreams she recovered as time went by. Roach was glad she was returning to normal and that no matter how her memories came back, her treatment towards him was the same.

"Good to see you back on your feet, my man." Rocket went up to him and did their fist bump, a series of elaborate claps then finished off with finger guns accompanied by their almost realistic attempt at pistol fires.

"Haha. Yeah? I'm glad I'm back." He waved as Rocket pointed at his back. Roach turned to see Maxine, carrying a packed lunch, waiting at the end of the hallway.

"Hey you. Just in time for lunch as always." He smiled, wrapping an arm around her as they made their way to the mess hall.

"Glad to see you smiling and walking about." She says, as her palms ran across his firm chest, tracing the scar that changed his life.

"Yeah, finally passed the damn physical test." He grinned as they sat down at their usual table, the only table which consisted of two tables stuck together to form an eight seater.

The rest of Roach's closest comrades were already there. Alex, guessing what Samantha packed for him. Soap and France arguing which meal choice was best for them and Ghost, who was already halfway through his lunch while the rest of his comrades haven't even started yet.

"Good to have you back, buddy." Ghost greeted with a wide grin on his face, well technically only half of his face was shown.

"Hey man. I sure am glad. How have you been doing?" he joked. They constantly visit him in their free time, so there was actually nothing to catch up on.

"The rest of the squad proceeded to badger Roach with questions about everything they wanted to know. Roach enjoyed the hot seat as the military mess hall felt like the university cafeteria.

"So, any news about Nero?" He finally asked as soon as everyone was done with him. The table felt awfully quiet.

"None." France was the first to speak up. Everyone else nodded and frowned.

"Shit. Guess our only choice is to wait." He added.

"Shepherd didn't have any leads towards Nero. Their last contact was the exchange of blueprints and after that, he was gone." Soap explained the situation.

"The missing persons?" Gary asked.

"Still missing." Alex commented.

"And there are still a few additions every other day as indicated by the FBI and DHS." Ghost added.

"Is interpol still involved?" Roach turned to Ghost.

"They're still after the traces of EMP equipment from the missing persons. Their new lead is that Nero's team is trying out a lethal kind of grenade. One that explodes without damaging property. If he's planning invasion, this is actually a good idea without ruining too much of the invaded country." He replied. Roach nodded at the theory. EMPs only damage mechanical equipment and this was a good call for the bad side.

"I never knew they'd think of this kind of weaponry. I always expected bioweapons being the last of modern warfare." Ghost muttered.

"Well, that was what happened in Verdansk and we stopped it. We could do that again." Alex tried to boost morale.

"Yeah. We'll do whatever it takes." Roach agreed and they continued lunch.

By the time he started training, Roach focused back on his Sniper techniques. His wound may have affected his previous breathing training and it was only inevitable that he'd train it again. He wanted to master the long ranged rifle as it was vital towards his development as a soldier.

"Back on the scope huh." Ghost huffed as they reached their 200 yard mark, by the hill just outside the base.

"Glad you could help me on this one." Roach unzipped the sniper bag and began scouting the area.

"You sure this is your spot?" Ghost asked, using his hand as a visor against the hot afternoon sun.

"Yeah. This fits."

"Suit yourself." He chuckled as Roach snapped every attachment of the rifle, from the bipod stand to the clicker adjustments.

He peeked at the scope and looked at his target. Five small cans standing on top of a log 200 yards away.

"Remember what I told you." Ghost mused as he looked at Roach steadying his breathing.

"Damn." He added as he noticed the change in wind.

"Yeah, damn. I just was about to fire it." Roach muttered as he took another deep breath and began to hold still as his crosshairs adjusted to the shift.

A loud fire echoed across the hills as dust scattered on the ground where Roach fired. He was about a few inches off.

"Great. Do that again but change your adjustments." Ghost said as consolation.

"Yeah got it." He rolled his dial once again and accounted for the wind, easing his breath and fired again. The loud sound once again echoed through the hills, followed by a soft metal can flying away from the log.

"There you go! A clean hit." Ghost congratulated as he tapped Roach's back while he reloaded his sniper and aimed again.

Roach stayed at that spot until it was too dark to continue and Ghost accompanied him until such time. On their way back, Ghost opened up to something that has been bothering him ever since.

"Roach. Do you mind if I say something important?" He asked and it made Roach stop on his tracks.

"Yeah. What's up." Roach asked.

"I've already sent my formal letter, but I just wanted you to have a heads up on the matter." Formal letter. Roach's heart started to pound as his mind automatically thought of him quitting or leaving.

"Letter about?" he asked. His mouth almost felt dry. He didn't want him to leave. Not again.

"Transferring department. Alexandra offered me a spot on the Interpol. I told you this first because I knew that if you were on my shoes, you'd go too, right? Do whatever makes you happy?" he said, quoting Roach's famous words.

He isn't wrong about doing what makes him happy, but his decision didn't feel right either, or maybe because he just doesn't want Ghost to go.

"Well, you bet I'd go for that option too!" Roach said, trying to validate his decision despite not wanting it. It was sad to see him go, but for the first time in ages, Ghost actually acknowledged the term happy.

"I knew you'd understand." he smiled and continued their trail back to the base where Roach remained quiet until they reached the base just in time for dinner.

After dinner, Roach opted for a night jog around the base to clear his mind off of Ghost leaving. After the second lap, he soon noticed Alex catching up to him.

"Wonderful weather for an evening run, huh?" He asked all cheery as he's quite used to his heavier and more realistic leg.

"Yeah. It is. Good to see you're liking Samantha's surprise." Gary nodded and removed his earphones.

"You know, it's really a surprise when I'm the only one who doesn't know about it." He commented.

"It feels like a real leg, actually. The wonders of modern technology never ceases to amaze me." He mused as they both took the turn.

"Yeah? That's good to hear. Pretty sure Samantha loved the way you thanked her." Roach teased as Alex chuckled, like he recalled some memory.

"Oh yeah, she did." Alex nodded suggestively, the kind that Roach didn't want to ask anymore.

"This your last lap?" Roach asked as Alex slowed down for his cooldown, turning to the set of exercise bars.

"Yep. See ya!" He waved as he started his cooldown.

Gary took three more laps just to make sure he's exhausted for the night, so that once he got in his bed, no more thoughts would assault his mind, hindering him from sleep.

There was only one way out of it. And it was accepting Ghost's inevitable departure from the 141.

The next morning, the 141 was briefed on a possible lead on Nero. This time, Ghost wasn't in the room and that meant that his letter was now approved.

"Okay lads. We've received word on a supply drop activity from Nero. We intercepted an unencrypted call signal to an abandoned port just off the coast of Sierra Leone, Africa. If intel is correct, we're going to be dealing with someone who goes by 'Volt', Nero's bomb maker." Price paced in front of the huge screen showing details regarding their mission.

"Volt is a high value individual who must not be killed. He's our only hope towards Nero. The intercepted call came from the USA, and it's quite impossible that Nero is here, so he must've used a secure line. Jack will be staying in the base as our new Operations Command as suggested by Laswell. Overlord will continue his role as our commanding officer as well." Price added making clear about the jurisdiction.

"Damp and dry Africa." Soap muttered.

"Have you been there?" France asked.

"Only in Egypt. My mom used to tag me along her trips." he replied.

"Recon suggests a high chance of militia activity, so our standard rules of engagement; treat anyone as hostile. Volt's compound will be surrounded by his own personal army and they're willing to shoot any unwanted visitors. He also has access to a port, so I'm sending the Charlie team to stand by the shore and make sure they're not planning an escape." he added.

"I'm leading the Alpha team and our task is to infiltrate his base and secure Volt for intel. Bravo team, led by Alex, will act as our support when things go south. As bonus, we need to destroy any trace of bomb making equipment.

Roach, I want you to man our new air support tools from above as soon as we confirm that there are no SAMs on his base." He shot his glare on Roach and he nodded. Guess he isn't on the ground tomorrow.

"We leave tomorrow at 0300. Make your necessary preparations especially on our brand new comms equipment. Ones that are immune to EMP blasts. Dismissed." He said as everyone got up and went on their way. Gary purposefully left himself behind so he could ask Price about the Ghost situation.

"Hey there lad. You feeling good?" Price approached as soon as he noticed Roach.

"I just have a question about the mission."

"Sure. What about it? Any suggestions?"

"No no. The plan is fine. Where will Ghost be?" Price gave him a worried stare.

"Ah. Didn't he tell you about his transfer?" He crossed his arms and stared at Roach.

"He did… but why did you allow it?"

"Well, it certainly looked like he was happy to go there. And I had no power over his commendations." Price reasoned as they walked out of the briefing room.

"Oh. I thought he was going to have one last mission with us." Roach smiled as he walked back to the room. Ghost wasn't a fan of goodbyes. Maybe because he knew they'll meet again.

0300H

Sierra Leone, Africa

"This is Hunter One-One requesting sitrep, over." Roach phoned his allies who were already on the ground for support. This mission was their vital lead towards Nero. He wished that the guy Volt was here so that they could finally finish the war before everyone else gets hurt.

Before he could man the air support, he needed to confirm that there were no SAMs present on their base so he could safely provide suppressing fire from above.

Next Chapter : The SIXth Ship

Notification Squad my Beloved

@whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1 @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio

#alex echo 3 1 #john soap mactavish #horrayfic #john price #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #codmw #whateverittakes

[fiercyy]

Chapters: 12/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi, Team 7 - Relationship, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Tsunade (Naruto), Orochimaru (Naruto) Additional Tags: AU, Post-Chuunin Exams, post chuunin exams attack, Minor Character Death, Trauma, Team 7 Family bonding, Genin Era, Everybody moves in with Sasuke, he's got room, semi-au, Plot Twists, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Roommates, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto) Feels, BAMF Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto), Team as Family, Slow Burn Series: Part 1 of Post-Chuunin Exam AU Summary:

Sakura always wished she could relate to her teammates better. She wishes she could take it back.

In which Sasuke acquires some unwanted roommates and a team becomes a family.

Note: I realized that I never posted these chapter to Tumblr, so I’m just catching up :) 

.

.

Naruto's grand plan to get Sakura back on Team 7 will come to him any day now. He's sure of it. They can't just not be a team anymore. That would be crazy. In the meantime, it's kind of been a good vacation. He gets to sleep in every day, he hardly ever needs to see Sasuke's stupid face. On the other hand, he never gets to see Sakura. She's not talking to any of them. It doesn't matter what he says or how he pleads. She won't open her door when she's home and she won't tell him where she's going when she leaves.

As he takes the long way home from hanging out with Chouji and Shikamaru, he turns over the problem in his head. He just needs to try harder—maybe do something nice for her. He'll treat her to ramen! The thought of it makes his stomach rumble and the phantom scent tickle his nostrils.

He opens the front door to the apartment and nearly trips over his own feet.

Sakura is standing at the stove, ladling broth into two bowls. She smiles tentatively at him before biting her lip. "Hi."

"…Hi."

Awkwardly, she gestures to the kitchen table, which is already set with chopsticks, spoons, napkins and glasses of water. "I made ramen."

He can see that. It smells amazing.

In a daze, he drops into the chair kitty-corner from hers. She sets his bowl in front of him and he glances between it and her, then back again. He doesn't touch it. He wants to know what's happening. She's being her normal self, someone he hasn't seen in what feels like forever.

Sakura seems to sense his apprehension. "I'm really sorry Naruto."

"You don't have to be-"

"Yes I do," she swallows, "I want to make sure you know that I wasn't angry with you and I shouldn't have shut you out like that. I was mad at Kakashi-sensei and Sasuke-kun and a bunch of other stuff, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You were just trying to be a good friend."

He shrugs, honestly it wasn't much different than when she'd yell at him before.

"It's not okay and you didn't deserve that." She takes his hands and so many feelings well inside him. He tries to think of the last time someone said they were sorry and meant it. He can't recall. "You're a really good friend." Naruto's face heats and he demurs. No one's ever said that about him either. He's torn between tears and smiles, so he splits the difference.

Wow.

He sniffles. "Thank you Sakura-chan. And this looks awesome!"

Forgoing the chopsticks, he tips the bowl directly into his mouth. And coughs.

"Oh my god."

"Good? I made it a little spicy…"

"Sakura, I'm so sorry, I really appreciate the thought but this is terrible."

.

.

It's the only apology she owes and Sakura is satisfied with that. She never dreamed it would be difficult, but everything went over so easy with Naruto that she almost feels guiltier now than she did before.

Getting what she wants from Sasuke will be way more difficult. She has no hopes for an apology, but she'd settle for some semblance of understanding. And it would take her entire arsenal of everything she's learned about him since being put on the same team. The most important of which, is this:

If you want Sasuke to understand something, you have to beat it into him.

.

.

Sasuke does not apologize. The last time he was made to, he was eight years old and his mom threatened not to let him play with Itachi until it was done. There hasn't been anyone in a position to make him do anything for a long time. From age eight to twelve he has been beholden to no one.

Now he's doing things like buying groceries for three and making sure he buys the lactose free milk so that N aruto doesn't hog the bathroom excessively. He's taking into account people's feelings. He has roommates.

He tried to reason with Kakashi.

Naruto was going about it all wrong. You can't change someone's mind if you don't engage with them. Instead of not showing up, Sasuke was belligerent right to his face. Hopefully he took some of it to heart. Maybe he even talked to Sakura. Stranger things have happened.

He wouldn't say he's sorry… but he hates the way things are now. Everything is much better when Team 7 is together.

It's more efficient, he tells himself. He needs sparring partners, he reasons.

He misses them, he refuses to admit.

.

.

He's so predictable; it's easy to ambush Sasuke while he's training.

Sakura lands directly behind him while he takes a breather between kick exercises. He doesn't turn around. He does that annoying thing where he keeps his back to you but says your name like he knew you were there the whole time—tool.

"What do you want?" he tries to be intimidating but to her ears he just sounds apprehensive, like he's priming himself for being yelled at.

"I wanna talk."

He whirls half around, "Seriously?"

"No," she goes for the knees; manages to knock him over, but can't dodge the elbow he jabs into her side. Sakura rolls to the side, coughing. "I came to," another cough, "kick your ass."

She can't believe her ears, he actually snorts at her. It makes her blood boil. "PREPARE YOURSELF YOU JERK!"

Sasuke rolls his eyes and takes a reluctant defensive stance. Nobody moves for a long moment. "Well? Come kick my ass," he mocks.

Sakura isn't stupid. She knows in an all-out fight she's no match for him. Yet. He's got the Sharingan and Chidori on his side. But she has boiling, undiluted rage sublimating into pure adrenaline.

His first punch lands on her shoulder. "Ow!"

"Seriously?!" He fell for it!

"NO!" She takes advantage of his exasperated pause and grabs his fist and twists, throwing him over her shoulder and onto the ground. She bends at the waist to glare into his eyes, "Take me seriously," she warns, "Or I'll take you down."

"Fine." He windmill kicks, sweeping her legs out from under her. He jumps on her, pinning her to the dirt. "Are you coming back to training or what."

"Why? Do you miss me?" She hooks her knee around his thigh and flips them, holding him down by her forearm against his neck.

"You wish." He flips them again. "Give up yet?"

"Never," then she bites his wrist so hard that he shrieks.

"SAKURA, WHAT THE FU-!" with a sharp thrust of her palm she bloodies his nose and scurries back ten feet.

This isn't what she came here for, but it sure is satisfying.

He comes at her again, and kicks her in the gut, sending her flying into a tree trunk. Winded, she slides to the dirt among the roots. "I don't need you, you know. You can retire for all I care. You and Naruto."

She grunts and spits out a wad of blood, "Keep telling yourself that."

"I was right and if you can't handle your emotions, that's not my problem."

"My emotions?" How did she never see what a sanctimonious ass he could be? And such a hypocrite. "You don't get to lecture me about handling my emotions and not getting angry. You're the angriest person I've ever met and you almost killed Naruto."

She attacks with taijutsu, punches and kicks that would be bruising if she could only land a hit. He dodges but doesn't counter. She can see the frustration in his features and it vindicates something in her to know she's getting to him.

"I get to be mad at the world. I get to be mad at Sound and I definitely get to be mad at you. You didn't invent loneliness okay? We're all sad. We're all angry. We've all lost things. The difference between you and me is that you have somewhere to direct your anger." She goes for another kick, only to find her leg tangled up in razor thin wires. She can see the other end held in his fist. He tugs and more of them tighten around her arms. Their sharpness forces her to be still.

"There is literally nothing I can do," fuck, she's crying now. "There's no one to get vengeance on. Nothing I can achieve that will erase it. What happened to you was awful. You lost your whole family and I only lost my parents… but they were all I had. I'm sorry that you had more to lose. I don't know what to do now. Everything feels different. All I know is that you, Naruto and Kakashi are all that's left."

"My brother did it." His voice prompts her to look up. He glares at the floor and his fist loosens around her bonds. "I don't know what it changes, but it was him. I hate him so much and I will kill him." He cannot admit that he loved him once. That would humanize him in ways that 12-year-old Sasuke is not prepared for. "I don't know what I would do if I didn't have that," he admits. "You still think you want to be like me? I'm going to kill my own brother. Does that scare you?"

She will not be baited. "I'm nothing like you," she lies, "And you don't scare me," she lies again. "You don't have to be nice, but you do have to respect me."

He considers her for a moment, then his grip loosens the rest of the way. The wires drop and he holds out his fist. She bumps it with hers and the move feels at once foreign and cathartic.

"I'm still mad at you."

Sasuke rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch. "I'm mad at you too."

.

.

The nurse at triage takes one look at the two of them; Sakura with her criss cross of cuts, Sasuke with his crooked nose and sighs. "Can't you take care of this yourself?"

Sakura beams, "Of course! It's not for me. He's so pretty, it'd be a shame if I disfigured him permanently. Hearts would break all over Konoha!"

He shoots her a cutting glare but doesn't argue. He's a little vain too.

The nurse looks unamused and gestures for them to sit.

Sasuke plans to sit in silence for the next seven hours while more important injuries are taken care of, but Sakura makes it impossible. She might be trying to punish him by being as annoying as possible. She talks about Naruto and Ino and that stupid firefighting turtle show. And he definitely doesn't care that this feels almost normal.

"What are you doing here?"

Sasuke snaps out of ignoring Sakura to stare at the Godaime Hokage, standing imposing and tall over them as they sit in a pair of cheap plastic folding chairs. "It has nothing to do with the Magekyou," he is quick to reassure.

"Not you," the Hokage says drily, "It's very clear what you're here for." Then she pinches his nose between her glowing green pointer and thumb, then twists.

He shouts at the crack, but the pain quickly subsides. He rubs his nose and dried flecks of blood come away, but it feels like the correct shape.

"Sakura."

"Shisou!"

"I hope you didn't come in for those scrapes."

"No ma'am."

"I'll have no apprentice of mine embarrassing me and wasting a doctor's time."

"Of course ma'am."

"I'll show you how to fix them yourself up tomorrow, after that you'll have to start coming to training with injuries or else we'll have nothing to do."

"I could always bring him," Sakura offers, jerking a thumb in Sasuke's direction.

"Sure you could, but if you fuck up you could blow a leg off. That might be the wrong kind of motivation. Now scram."

"Yes ma'am!" Sakura giggles and grabs Sasuke's arm, dragging him outside.

"You made me listen to you talk about Ino's haircut but you didn't mention that?"

.

.

Earlier…

Kakashi scooches closer on the roof and bumps shoulders with Sakura, who's been staring at her swinging feet for several minutes now.

"I'm tired of being mad, I don't want to feel anything anymore."

"You don't want that."

"Yes I do. It hurts all the time… I just want to be strong. Like you. I don't want to cry anymore."

Kakashi stares out at the sunrise and feels the ancestral guilt of a hundred generations of shinobi, all the teachings that led a 12-year-old girl to think it was wrong to mourn. "I don't want you to be like me," he admits, "I want you to be better. I want better for you."

Her tired smile rewards him, golden light reflected warmly. Maybe he can do right by these kids.

He's not doing too bad.

#sasusaku #sasuke x sakura #naruto #team 7 #genin fic #fanfiction #if you can't hold on hold on #IYC #my fic

[rnufharose]

Chapter 20

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: None

︻デ═一 ♥

"I'm so glad you asked me to tag along with you," Irene smiled from ear to ear as she walked a few steps ahead of Sehun, who exhaled sharply.

After he left the Kim Estate, he was headed to the Lotte World Mall to find a dress for Haneul, but then Irene gave him a call and when he told her he was going to find the girl a dress, the older women decided to take it upon herself to join him.

"You didn't ask though," Sehun replied, looking around the shopping outlets. "I can find a dress on my own, you know. I have good taste in clothes, you can't deny that."

"You're just going to pick out something slutty," she teased and the younger male stammered, coming to a halt.

"Noona! I would never!" He protested, taking offense to her words. He could never look at Haneul like that. He loved how cute and innocent she looked. He didn't dare think about the amount of skin he wanted to see from her, but as he followed after Irene, something within him changed. He recalled the night she sang at The Magic Shop, how long and slender her legs looked, the way her thin, petite frame curved in all the right places. Her skin looked so soft to the touch, and it stirred a feeling of wonder as to what she might look like under those dresses she wore--under the shirts and jeans she sported casually, under the t-shirt and jogging sweats she wore at home... Dammit, Sehun shook his head to rid himself of such naughty thoughts. Now's not the time to think about that!

"Excuses, excuses," Irene sang, still playing around with him until she came across PINKO, an Italian fashion brand targetted toward women, known for its wide selection of dresses, blouses, and coats. She walked into the store and Sehun followed behind, watching her sift through several dresses on the rack. "No... not that one... ew," she scrunched her nose, and Sehun agreed, but not about that one dress she disliked suddenly.

The whole rack she was looking through was disgusting. "Noona, I can find her something, trust me."

"You know I can't leave anything to you," she said, and she grabbed a black dress with a conservative high laced collar and cuffs, long sleeves, and buttons running along the front. "This is good! That way you won't look at her like you're about to eat a meal."

"She's going to a party, not Church!" the raven-haired male exclaimed.

"What's wrong with dressing up as a Church girl?" the older women cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you were the more religious one out of the other members of EXO."

"Oh please, I may read the Bible but I'm a sinner with blood on my hands," Sehun grunted. He reached for the dress, gently taking it from her and setting it on the rack. "Trust me, Noona. I can find her an appropriate dress. Just let me do it."

Irene stared at him for several moments before huffing, nodding with defeat and allowing to find a dress for Haneul, "Alright... I'll put my trust in you. Go ahead and look around," she gestured toward the rest of the store, and he gave her a small smile, bowing his head graciously and walking deeper into the store.

Sehun looked around carefully, scanning the dresses on the other racks, but nothing seemed to catch his eye. There were evening dresses with low-cut fronts which he didn't find decent, nor did he like ones that were too short and would make Haneul uncomfortable. She wore skater dresses to work, so those were out of the question, and others were just as conservative as what Irene showed him before.

"There has to be something," he mumbled, moving toward the side, and passing by several blouses and overcoats until he came across a rack that had one dress left. He came to a halt and inspected it, lips parted and eyes widening slightly as he took it in.

It had a sleeveless black lace bodice with a round collar that ended mid-waist with abstract patterns. The skirt was pleated and asymmetrical, a soft cherry blossom pink, and he could only imagine how beautiful Haneul would look in it. He had never seen her wear a soft color like pink. It would probably go well with her pale skin and brown hair. He reached for the dress, smiling with satisfaction and making his way back toward Irene, who was busy looking at some dresses for herself.

"You found something?" She asked when she heard his footsteps.

"Yup," he answered, holding up the dress. "Take a look."

The older woman faced him, inhaling when she saw the dress. It was a stark contrast from what she had initially picked, but at the same time, she expected no less from Sehun. The dress was beautiful but appropriate enough so that other men wouldn't think twice about laying eyes on Haneul, and the color would go well with her. "This is Irene-approved," she raised her head, meeting his dark gaze. "we can buy this dress for her."

Sehun breathed a sigh of relief, giving her a nod. Now that it was approved by her, he didn't have to think about traversing the whole mall to find the perfect dress for Haneul. "Thank God. Now, let's pay for this quickly and head to Louis Vuitton. I need another suit."

︻デ═一 ♥

Life had returned to The Magic Shop as more customers walked through the door. Haneul and the boys were dressed in white, getting ready for a brand new performance—something little more seductive and sensual, but it would be a decent performance nonetheless. Once they took the stage, they got into position with Jimin in the center, and he began to sing, the choreography synchronized, as usual, their gazes piercing into the men and women—mostly women—who watched their performance in awe. It was time for the rap line to take the stage, singing the first bridge after the hook.

[Suga, RM, J-Hope]

My blood, sweat, and tears

My body, mind, and soul

I know well they're all yours

This is a spell that will punish me

Peaches and cream

Sweeter than sweet

Chocolate cheeks

And chocolate wings

But your wings are the devil's

There is a 'bitter' next to your 'sweet'

Kiss me, it's okay if it hurts

Just make it as tight

As that I can't feel the pain anymore

Baby, it's okay if I get drunk

I'll drink you in deep now

Deep into my throat

The whiskey that is you

[V, Haneul, J-Hope]

My blood, sweat, and tears

My last dance too

Take it all away

My blood, sweat, and tears

My cold breath too

Take it all away

I want you more

When the chorus came, the eight of them put as much energy into the dance routine, singing about a temptation that prompted them to sin. One could hear the dreamy sighs of the women in the corner as they eyed the seven males dancing and harmonizing with Haneul. Their visuals and voices had put them in a trance.

[Haneul]

My blood, sweat, and tears

My blood, sweat, and tears...

They finished their performance and the patrons exploded into applause, cheers, and whistles, still fixated on the eight angels on stage, and Haneul was the first to exit the stage. She walked toward the bar where Bella had poured her a whiskey on the rocks, sliding the intricate glass along the counter. "Here you go."

"Thanks," the brunette said before sipping her drink. "It's been so long since I've had one of your drinks."

"Well, you'll be having them again from now on," Bella chuckled.

"I have to go to the back and start cooking for the next customers," Jin gestured as he took off his suit jacket, hanging it to Dawon, who accepted it without question. "We should handle the rest of their orders while Soobin and the others perform their number."

"And in the meantime," Jimin walked up to brunette and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pinching her cheek playfully. "You are going to tell us more about that Sehun. I want to hear everything." His eye smile was still so bright.

Hoseok took a seat on one of the bar stools, ready to listen as well, "Yes, please tell us! Does he have good marksmanship? Is he rich? Ooh, does he shower you with expensive gifts?"

"One and a time, Hobi," Namjoon held his shoulder and a laugh. "I'm sure he's all of those things and even more."

"I'll say!" Dawon agreed and began to fix up the white lace on the dress Haneul had been wearing. "Did you see the car he pulled up in? How can he not be?!"

"I think you can stop worrying about Neullie now," Yoongi confirmed. "It's obvious she's being taken care of. Sehun may not have the best job on the planet but he's an upright guy if he's protected her for this long."

"You're right, hyung," Jungkook raised his head and looked between then others. "I don't have to worry anymore. And you do look happier, Neullie... you look better than the last time we saw you."

"Do I?" She giggled, bowing thankfully. "Thanks everyone..."

Taehyung has remained silent the whole time, nursing his drink in his hand as he mulled over their words. He still wasn't sure if he should trust a guy like Sehun. After all, it was the mafia that was responsible for the debt his family was in. Granted, it wasn't EXO who was targeting his parents and siblings, but he had a history with the underworld which he wanted to forget and which he didn't want his friends involved in.

"I still don't trust him," Taehyung spoke seriously, facing the others. "He's going to have to convince me that he's protecting her. All those guys in the mafia—they're the same... greedy, murderous, lustful." He put down his empty glass and walked toward the back of the cabaret, and everyone watching with intent, concern on their expression as he left them.

Bella released a sigh, leaving her place behind the bar and following after him until she reached the storage room where the older male was seated on the couch. Taehyung has his shoulders dropped, his head hanging, hands in his lap while pain and anger lined his features. "Taehyung," she began, walking toward him slowly before taking a seat beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her, his eyes glazed over, tears ready to spill forth. "I know you're in pain... but maybe we can trust him."

"I want to, I really do," he hissed, a tear dropping down his cheek. "But how can I...? What if he asks the same thing from her?! Soon it'll be money, then sex, and then she'll be swallowed up until she can't get out of the darkness!"

"I don't think he's like that," Bella disagreed with him, running her fingers through his long curly blue hair. "You saw him before. He looked very sincere... even when he was asking Neullie to stay with him back then, there were no ill intentions in his voice. He may be in the mafia but he's got a good heart."

"It just scares me to think my friends could possibly be involved," he sighed deeply, turning away to look at the floor. "Just the fact that we know him puts us in danger! And if anything happened to them, and you, I—"

"Kim Taehyung," the silver-haired female squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "Nothing is going to happen. Things are going to get better, you'll see. Maybe they already are since Neullie came back to The Magic Shop today. He may be a hitman but you should give Sehun a chance. Who knows? You might find the two of you are a lot similar than you think." She pulled him close, his head resting on her shoulder while she combed through his hair in comfort.

She knew Taehyung would listen to her. He always did. Right now, he just needed to be assured things were going to be alright. She knew he had been having a hard time since a small syndicate had been harassing his family, but he was close to paying off that debt thanks to working at The Magic Shop. He was opening his heart to the pain in order to exchange it for something better.

It wasn't just the customers outside who deserved something better. Even Taehyung needed that. It is with mindfulness and compassion that they opened these doors to the people of Seoul and once day, Taehyung would do the same for Sehun.

Somewhere outside, seated on one of the tables in the back, a pair of red eyes had watched as Taehyung and the silver-haired female walked toward the back of the cabaret. He nursed his drink in his hand, a smirk on his face before he brought the rim to his lips, downing the whiskey in seconds.

He was here to collect.

#romance #eventual fluff #eventual romance #eventual smut #eventual happy ending #exo #sehun #exo sehun #bts #oh sehun

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Overgrown Metal

Chapter 3: Keep Moving

Summary of fic: Almost two decades ago, the fae rose up from beyond the value with technology far surpassing the human race, quickly taking over after lating waste to nearly everything in their wake. Virgil and Roman, Society escapees and hunters run into an uncertain future while fleeing from their pasts. Remy and Remus stare their only chance straight in the face as they teeter on the edge of reluctant adventure. Emile is left his cousins engineering palace and is given the tools to change the world. Logan, a lone researcher and outcast is found by an old friend who offers him a chance of the century. Hyden (deciet), can shift into anything he so chooses, but staying true to his form as his heritage slaps him sideways proves harder than he thought. Patton mourns the loss of his son as he slowly uncovers secrets he wishes aren't related.

Or less wordy:

Eight idiots with trust issues fumble around each other and try to save the world from killer mechanical beasts and fairies that will snap your neck without taking their hands from their wine glasses.

Warnings: Violence, fight scenes, dark fantasy, apocalypse setting, some gore, blood

Warnings for this chapter: none. Though as always if you see something that should be tagged please say something.

Ships: Remy (sleep) x Remus. Brotherly Roman and Virgil. Platonic Logan and Hyden (Deciet)

The spacious barn creaked lazily as the sounds of swearing and hammering overflowed its weather worn walls. It had been repurposed years ago, the old owners either long dead or moved out once the forest began to take over. As it was now it had been cleared of the twisting roots and oddly growing branches that had once threatened to consume it completely, now standing in a small clearing with a house beside it sitting just as pristine. The barn, though repaired, leaned slightly to the side, braced on an extension that housed a lab of sorts with one other room branching out that acted as cold storage.

The main room itself was currently where loud banging could be heard with the occasional swear sprinkled in as the owner tried valiantly to seperate pieces of plate metal from the skull of a fallen beast, eyes vacant and jaw slack as it sat on the table surrounded by already disassembled parts of itself scattered about and repurposed to varying degrees. Jars of different colored oily substances sat on a cart nearby, with empty ones still waiting to be filled. The hammer was thrown down suddenly, its owners pointed ears twitching in irritation as he dragged a hand down his face and took a breath. Sighing loudly, Logan turned and stalked off to the other end of the room to get a crow bar off the rack in hopes that his new method would work.

As he began trying to pry between plates he felt more than heard the halting footsteps outside the barn, though who it was was clearly trying his best to be quiet. Rolling his eyes Logan slammed the crowbar in a weak spot and pulled hard enough to bend the plate and send the bar snapping back to narrowly miss his face. He scowled as sweat dripped into his eyes, rolling his shoulders and gripping the tool with a white knuckled grip.

"It truly is a wonder you haven't killed yourself yet. To think of all that education going to waste with a cracked skull in an old barn, it's almost enough to make me care to check in more."

"The only reason you come in here is because I'm the only thing within a hundred mile radius who doesn't wish you dead on sight."

"How you wound me. It's at least two hundred when I'm far enough away from the coast." Logan smirked as he heard the irritated tap of the others cane punctuating his statement.

Sighing, he placed the crowbar on the bench and turned to face the intruder, leaning against it while crossing his arms. "Hyden."

"Logan." The other greeted mutually. Though he was typically a bit more put together his thick caplet lay crookedly across his tense shoulders, arms taunt as he leaned heavily on his cane with both hands resting on the top. His long hair curled in the afternoon humidy and Logan definitely didn't miss the slight furrow of his brows, though he knew he would be loathe to admit he was in any sort of pain.

Letting out a heavier sigh Logan pushed away from the bench and gestured for the other to follow him. "Join me, I need a break anyway."

Hyden gasped. "The head scientist admitting he needs a break? Who's hand do I need to shake for downloading an once of self preservation into that thick skull?"

"I'll have you know I take breaks on a regular basis, something you clearly need to be reminded of."

"The audacity! I walk all the way here to visit a long time friend-"

"You walked?" Logan shot him a sharp glance as he held the door, gesturing the other into the old farmhouse.

Waving away the concern, Hyden continued. "I flew most of the way don't worry. I only ducked below the treeline the last few miles so I wouldn't be followed, you're welcome for the concern and forethought."

Snorting, Logan pulled out a chair and moved to collect containers of herbs and thr kettle, sighing for the fourth time as it was blatantly ignored for the refrigerator. As the kettle heated he carefully measured out the proper ingrediants, glancing over every now and again to try and catch what his guest was poking at.

"Are those by any chance agorose gels?"

Walking past the fridge to put things away he caught sight of what the other was observing, humming his confirmation.

"Logan, why do you have DNA gels next to leftover chicken salad in your refrigerator?"

"The chicken salad seems irrelevant." The kettle whistled to give him an excuse to avoid the question, carefully pouring out the boiling water.

"Logan."

"Hyden." The name slipped out easily despite his annoyance, making him wonder for a brief moment if he would struggle when he was finally told his real name.

The mans cane taps were heavier than normal as he made his way over to the table and flopped down without his usual show. Giving Loagn a quiet thank you he proceeded to wrap his hands around the steaming mug, frowning in concentration. "Are you trying to find them again?"

"I fail to comprehend what you could possibly-"

"Because they're trying to find you. And they're getting close."

Logan was quiet as he sat, his wrapped hands folding somewhat painfully around his own drink. Pursing his lips he avoided looking at Hyden for a long moment, nevertheless feeling his gaze attempting to pick him apart. Arranging his expression to be carefully neutral he took a drink, smiling as the other did so as well.

"Make sure to drink all of it, it'll help with pain."

"Did you even listen to what I said?!" Throwing his hands up in exasperation he fixed Logan with his best glare.

"Hard not to with that grating tone."

"Well this grating tone," he growled out. "Is telling you to get your head out of your ass and maybe make sure you're safe before telling someone else to take care of themselves."

Logan dragged a hand down his face, suddenly tired. "Where exactly do you expect me to go? I'm so close to figuring out what they're using to power those things, if I move now I won't have any access to the equipment I need, no studies will be concluded, and nearly all of my experiments will be left behind to rot! I need more time."

"Time isn't exactly a luxury here. You're being stubborn and ignorant, as usual, and if you would just listen-" he stopped short as he caught the look the other was giving him, letting out a breath of defeat and softening his tone. "It doesn't have to be today. But it does have to be soon. I'll even come with you, help you scout out a new location if you'd like. I'm sure there's plenty to be found with a little digging."

Mugs empty save for the dregs silence rang between them as they lost themselves in thought. Distantly Logan was aware of the old grandfather clock ticking, suddenly thinking what a shame it would be to leave the sound behind. He knew the other was right even before he fully decided to voice it. Instead he quietly looked over at him, the scales that freckled his face gleaming with the last rays of the evening sunlight. If they were truly leaving, they would have to be careful. Though he knew Hyden was loathe to do so he could easily shift his appearance to hide his scales. Logan wouldn't be so lucky, his slightly off colored skin and pointed ears a dead give away to what his heritage was, even if he had defected from it when the war broke out. He was obviously fae, and that would do him no favors outside of the protection of his remote location.

But he really couldn't stay. If the guard was truly zeroing in on his location he would much rather abandon his research and try to pick it up wherever he could than even think about getting caught and wondering whether he could escape before he was undoubtedly punished for his crimes against his people. He shuddered uneasily as he stood, carefully avoiding eye contact as he took the mugs to the sink and began to wash them. He stared out the window towards the treeline as he did, having to squint to make out the weak protective barrier set around the perimeter by Hyden years ago. Beyond that lay dense forest only a madman would dare trek through.

Or fae guards with strict orders.

Squaring his shoulders before they could droop in defeat he turned to face his companion with a level stare.

"Give me two days."

-------

"Two more days? I thought the town was closer than that." Virgil irritably kicked a stone into the water, splattering the bottom of Roman's pants. They huffed in response, their frustration easily matching Virgil's as they shifted the pack on their shoulders.

"I said at most two more days, it might be sooner than that. We've never really been this far out before, which is a good thing but it means guessing the distance. Pouting isn't going to make it be any closer."

"Not pouting." Virgil pouted, crossing his arms before realizing what he was doing and angrily shoving them in his hoodie pockets.

Snorting with amusement Roman shifted the pack again before grunting and heaving it up and off their shoulder, immediately sagging in relief. Their burden was lifted further as Virgil tugged it out of their grasp and shouldered it easily, walking ahead while adjusting to the weight.

"Thank you."

"You were slowing us down. Somebody's gotta make sure we stay on schedule."

Roman squawked with indignation, jogging a bit to catch up with the emos longer gait. Their mouth thinned as they thought of how to bring up a concern they'd been thinking about for a while, gripping the straps of their pack tightly in apprehension.

"Alright. Spill it." They blinked as Virgil stopped, dropping both the packs and plopping down in the dirt.

"What?"

"Being anxious is my job and right now you're forcing me into unemployment. So either talk or I'm throwing you in the river."

"You do and I'm eating the last two cans of spaghettios tonight while you get nothing but croutons."

Virgil narrowed his eyes. "I fucking dare you to go through with that threat. You do not come between a man and the last can of shitty microwave pasta."

"I have the food pack."

"And I have the flint and steel so start talking before I decide to set you on fire instead of drowning you."

Unceremoniously flopping to the ground they let out an annoyed huff while shrugging off the back pack. "Fine. I've been thinking....that with this next town..maaaaybe finding another person or two to travel with would be in our best interests?"

The last half of the thought came out rushed and nearly incomprehensible but Roman could tell Virgil had heard them clearly as his face adopted a carefully neutral expression, hands twisting tightly in his lap.

"Roman..."

"I know! I know, I definitely get it. But, it would be easier to carry supplies and we could have more! We wouldn't have to stop in towns so much-"

"Roman."

"And it might be safer! More people means more weapons means more protection right?"

"Roman."

They shut their mouth in worry at the defeated tone Virgil had adopted. He twisted his hands tighter, hesitant to continue now that he actually could.

"Am I not....do you not feel safe enough with me?"

Roman sucked in a breath as they realized how Virgil had taken their concerns, rushing to try and fix it. "It's definitely not that! I-Virgil I'm so sorry that isn't what I meant at all!"

They leaned forward and began gently detangling his fingers from each other, holding them tightly once they finally managed it. "Anx it isn't like that. I honestly worry that you aren't safe enough with me. And once our load gets heavier with trading supplies we slow down and it never seems like we're on the road long enough before what little supplies we can carry run out. It was only a thought I wanted to discuss, not an attack on your skill as a fighter."

Their eyes met Virgil's and they breathed a sigh of relief when they were met with understanding, nonetheless continuing to rub soothing circles across his knuckles until he pulled away.

"I guess..." he glanced over at the near overflowing pack of trading goods. "I guess I can see that yeah. But I don't-Roman how can we trust anyone?"

"We probably can't. But we'll look anyway and if we don't find anyone then we don't find anyone. Just, keep an open mind?"

Crossing his arms Virgil looked away to stare out at the water instead, face drawn with apprehension. After a minute he ducked his head in defeat, nodding slowly and standing up. "Yeah. We'll keep a look out. But if we do find someone and after a while they start to act shady we drop them alright? No debate."

"No debate." Roman readily agreed as they stood as well. They began walking again, the silence much less tense than it had been all afternoon. Grinning a bit, Roman smacked their lips in thought. "With that delay it might be two and a half days now."

"Oh come on!"

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[sienna-writes]

DELUGE - short story wip

Right off the bat let me clarify that I am new to writing short stories. Generally my forte is flash fiction, the longest stories I’ve written maybe about 5000 words and primarily I like to focus on poetry. However! I've recently been very inspired to write longer prose and decided with quarantine cancelling everything that this was the perfect time to immerse myself fully in writing!

Don't take anything I say for doctrine as it is most definitely not! I am confident with my writing (to an extent, I have lots of room for improvement) but I would still consider myself an amateur when it comes to writing short stories!

My writing process so far —

Honestly, I thought it would be a very challenging shift from poetry and flash fiction into a 10000+ word story, but I've been having a lot of fun with it, and I'm proud of the quality of writing!

I am for sure a pantser.

I didn't outline, the ideas came to me quickly and relatively fully formed, and I did developmental edits all the way through so the plot remained tidy and coherent. As I wrote, more ideas came to me throughout the process.

Often I feel like not planning helps me progress the plot, because it leaves me constantly wondering what I need to do to reach the climactic point of it all. For me it helps to not know all the answers and figure it out intuitively, rather than write down all my ideas (even if I do have them in my head) because that way tends to leave me feeling trapped. I like to be flexible when I write, and live inside the characters as they are living inside the world I'm crafting around them. (I hope this makes sense...) Knowing all the answers off the bat also detaches me from the story in a way, I like to be actively seeking answers and thinking about my story.

This quote summarizes these ramblings perfectly:

“Writing is easy. You only need to stare at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.”

- Gene Fowler

:)

Anyway! This approach has been working super well, and I'm so glad. Developmental edits as I go through have helped me keep on track and maintain a clear grasp of the pace and atmosphere of the story as I work through it. I’m really glad I wrote in this way.

I wrote 3000 words on the first day of writing, and about 2800 on the second. Then I went through it all, editing and mulling the plot over. The next days were a bit slower and I'm still working through a road block I have hit with the progression of the plot. Currently the story is just over 10000 words and I had a good brainstorming session this morning and a rough idea of how to work through my crisis.

"I think it was the wind - torrents of it piercing and stabbing my face like pine needles - that set off the tidal wave. Boiling over, bits of brain formed mucus in my nose and my cheeks grew rain-washed with tears. The turbulent water roiled and churned, columns of it waved, welcoming my carcass and isolating my soul on the shoreline."

As you can see from this excerpt, the narrative is first person retrospective. I wanted an intimate feel so the audience could glean these intricate, slightly odd inner workings of the main character Charlie's mind. I think it works well for the style and helps her voice shine through effectively. She has a vivid internal world and this perspective makes the most sense as a way for this to be illustrated.

You also get some nice allusions to her oddness!

When we meet Charlie, she is being fired from her job (a journalist) for “causing a scene” - we learn later what this is about as the story progresses. We follow her messy journey through early adulthood, she is 27 and reflecting upon her past, all the casual rips and tears of life that lead her to where she ends up.

Grappling with trauma from college after being sexually assaulted, the plot tells of how our pasts can shape us and the routes we take in our lives, it explores chance encounters and how those can blossom into lifelong connections, and also the connections formed from our youth that can be undying. It’s on the verge of being YA but I think it’s more leaning toward an adult fiction story. I’m not sure yet if I want to extend this story into a novel, as I’m becoming really attached to the characters, but we’ll see as it progresses!

Some more excerpts -

Potential TW - I didn’t want the flashback to the assault to be too explicit, but it is still about and mentioning the assault. Here’s a section from it! I experimented with changing the perspective, and second person worked really well to show how painful the experience was.

...Your waterlogged mind found itself thinking of anything but now, anything but his breath on your neck, his palms kneading your underbelly like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Of your mother and how beneath her fingernails little roses unfurled and dribbled down your arms, ridden with thorns and stinging your skin. That had hurt, but it had never been as painful as this. You thought of pavements and how they interweaved like crosshatching but here, here, they formed a hopscotch on our playground. How sometimes nature had a way of rupturing the dull floor tiles with swollen roots and bruised the tarmac. How this blemish made the tiles collide, violent and convulsive. Tectonic plates pressing against your lips. Suddenly, it’s him again. A serpentine hand sliding down your back. You are not a snake charmer. You writhe but can’t seem to get him to stop.

I like this one because it shows Charlie being bitter and angry. (does this make me a bad person?)

...There was a barcode on my forehead. My eyes shifted from face to face, they were bidding. I was an ornament at a fucking auction.

And this will be the last one I share for now! 

...Even in my dreams I lay on my back. Still. The striking and recurring illusion of spiders sitting on my chest, furry legs knocking on my heart, pedipalps searching for its rhythm. Talons snapping open, shut, open. Eight voracious eyes eager to gut me like a fish. Drinking my piping innards with a cocktail straw. When I woke the illusion faded, my pulse rising faintly, but arachnophobia didn’t grip me like it once had. I didn’t rise and scramble, frantic fingers ensuring I was free of the spiders. I just lay there. On my back. Still.

Hoping one of them would take the first bite.

Hopefully this was interesting!

Have a nice evening <3

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@nev-953 @quiet-storm132

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