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laheysdork · 2 years

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strangers - stiles stilinski

summary: you decided that he’s a stranger to you a long time ago, but what if tragedy strikes and the only person that could help you is him?

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, fights, angst, slight fluff, vomit?, a little violence

a/n: so sorry i have been mia for months, i moved out and am finally living (as in not being stuck in my room all the time) i have this enemies-to-lovers fic siting for the longest time in my draft so hope yall like it! the italic bolded ones are flashbacks in case it gets pretty confusing. and i would like to apologize beforehand 🤠

masterlist

Strangers—they’re not always the people we don’t know. Some of them can be by choice, someone we chose to forget.

Sighing at the thought of another dreadful day at school, you drag your feet towards your first class. Your muscle memory kicking in, you pick the seat at the back corner, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible as you wish you can hide under a huge invisible cloak. After dumping your bag onto the floor next to the table, your body lazily sinks into the chair. Shuffling inside the pocket of your hoodie, you take out your phone and click it on, looking at the time.

7.50 A.M.

For once, you are early. Class starts at 8, so you have an extra 10 minutes to waste. As you begin to think about ways to kill the time, you hear two familiar voices growing louder as they enter the class.

You know those voices by heart. The voices that would always cheer you up when you were sad, the voices that continuously came up with jokes every day, but also the same voices that have shattered the only living soul you have left. How could one bring so much joy but also pain?

“Come on, Stiles. Star Wars? Again? Don’t you have any other movies to watch for our weekly movie nights?” you grumbled irritatedly.

“Last week, Scott picked some lame-ass rom-com and forced us to sit through it so this week it’s MY turn for revenge.” He emphasized the ‘my’ and crossed his arms across his chest, smirking at the thought of his genius evil plan.

“Fine, but next week I’m making you watch Spiderman.”

His curled lips dropped flat instantly. “Spiderman? Y/N, you know I am a DC man. Why would you do this to me?” he whined in disbelief which earned a maniacal laugh from you.

“Well, as you said before Stilinski, that is MY turn for revenge.”

Losing yourself in your thoughts, 10 minutes have long passed as the coach abruptly enters the classroom.

“This is the right class, right? Yeah, I think so.” He mumbles to himself as he places his stuff onto the teacher’s desk and clears his throat.

“Since I’m busy today, you will be doing a pair project.”

And the class goes wild.

“Hey, shut up. I’m not done yet.” Coach yells which gradually silences the class.

“Before all of you got too happy, I will be picking the pairs. Some of you depended on other students too much and that is not good.” He shakes his head, trailing off the subject.

“So, uhm, I’m just going to write the pairs on the board and the instructions. While I’m at it, please for the love of God shut your mouth.”

You are surprised. As a generally unlucky person, today doesn’t seem so bad. You won’t have to sit through coach’s lectures for 2 periods, which you consider as a total win.

However, your triumph does not last long as the words written messily on the board haunt you.

Pair 3: Y/F/N Y/L/N, Stiles Stilinski

Fuck-

“Okay, so all you have to do is collect some general information regarding the market structures and make a mind map. Simple. Now, huddle up with your buddies and get to work.”

Even after everyone starts grouping up with their partners, you are still slumped in the corner, not having any sort of will or energy left to interact with Stiles Stilinski.

Thankfully (or not), Stiles decides to make the first move, his silhouette towering your sitting figure. As you strictly look at your phone, a loud screech filled your ears, Stiles noisily dragging a vacant chair next to your table.

“Y/N,” he called in a tone you can’t quite comprehend.

God.

“Yeah,” you replied bluntly, glancing up.

“I- um, I wanted to say-“

“Sorry, what? I can’t hear you.”

In fact, you actually can. Hell, you even know what he’s about to say. But you do not brace yourself for this. You can barely look at him, let alone talk to him.

“Hey, movie night at 7?” You nudged on Stiles' arms, startling him, busy going through a bunch of papers on his desk.

“Uhh, no. I’m busy tonight.” He glanced to you for a second then proceeds to occupy himself.

“Okay, how about tomorrow?”

Missing your best friends, you were determined to get the band back together. Stiles and Scott had been exceptionally busy for the past few days and you were not quite sure why.

At first, you thought maybe it had something to do with the new girl, Allison. Scott seemed to be all over her. But then there was that creepy peculiar guy, Derek, who was borderline stalking them. They started to ditch you alone, running off to some secret mission, and you were tired of it. Why were they keeping it from you? Did they not trust you enough?

“Also busy,” he muttered, his focus still fully on the pile of paper. Your mouth gaped to come up with something that would get them to spend time with you but was interrupted by the ringing of the bell. In a flash, Stiles stood up, aimlessly gathering his papers, and zoomed out of the class, leaving your deadpanned state unattended.

From the widely-opened door, you could see Stiles rushing over to Scott. He told Scott something inaudible unless you got some sort of super-hearing, but from the look on Scott’s face, it must’ve been urgently distressing. Both of them bolted out of the school together without you, once again.

“I’ll do the monopoly and monopolistic competition and you do perfect competition and oligopoly. I’ll draw the mind map after school,” you state clearly and monotonously, wanting to quickly get this over with.

“Y/N, I-“

“Is it unclear?” you snap, rather cold.

“No, but-“

“Okay, then. You better start reading.” You heavily lift your book out of the bag and drop it on top of your table.

“What the hell just happened? Scott? Stiles?”

Your quizzical eyes darted waveringly between the two jittery boys, confused and infuriated.

Earlier, the boys had invited you, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson to come over and study. For a while there, you were hopeful. You thought that this small gathering could be a step closer to things going back to how it was, but displeasingly, you were absolutely mistaken.

“I don’t know, it’s-“

“What kind of lie are you coming up with now huh, Stiles? I know you know something!” you confronted.

“Y/N, we didn’t-“

“Oh, you think I didn’t notice? That guy Derek? Then both of you suddenly went M.I.A for days? And don’t get me started with the ‘Sorry, Deaton needs me at the clinic’ or ‘Sorry, my dad called me, gotta go’. We’ve been friends since we were 10 for fucks sake!”

Gladly the three of you were left alone because you were furiously shouting at this point. Allison offered to drive Lydia home the moment she sensed the unnerving tension between the three of you.

“And now, even after whatever that thing is just almost killed us, you still think I don’t deserve to know the truth?”

You shot the two boys death glares through your teary eyes which they actively try to avoid. They looked miserably guilty, something you currently want them to feel.

“You know what, I’m done. Don’t bother chasing after me to explain. I can just ask Allison.” And with that bitter statement, you left the two stunned boys standing frozen on the front porch.

Both of you are quietly reading through the materials and highlighting the key points. You silently thank Stiles for not trying to initiate another awkward conversation, which probably is caused by your previous intimidation.

Luckily, time seems to fly as the bell rings, indicating the end of the class. Not wanting to spend another second in this hellhole, you immediately left the class.

Following that incident, Stiles and Scott tried to reach you for days. Your phone would constantly light up once every few hours with either Scott’s or Stiles’ name lighting up the lockscreen.

After a week or so, the calls eventually came to a halt. You were relieved the ongoing calls that you have convinced yourself were bothering you stopped. But deep down all those denials, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that they gave up on you so effortlessly.

At the same time, you couldn’t blame them either. You were pretty ruthless.

Things never went back to normal. You avoided them at all cost, stop sitting at their table, vowing to never speak to them ever again.

You knew that keeping grudges would eventually hurt you more than it should but you were headstrong.

They did not trust you. They lied to you. They have made their bed and now you’re just simply letting them sleep on it.

However, this didn’t stop you from being attentive towards them. From time to time, you tried to keep tabs on them by checking in with Allison. But that was until she passed away.

The news left you completely devastated and heartbroken. Even though you were not on good terms with Scott and Stiles, you were still close with Allison.

She was your best friend. She patiently supported you through the heartache of losing your two best friends, she taught you how to stand strong independently, she gave you hope on the brighter days that had yet to come, but most importantly, she trusted you when Scott and Stiles didn’t.

You were also aware of the whole void situation, which pained you more than you thought it would. The thought of the vibrant, eccentric Stiles going through unspeakable agony and remorse wrecked you.

During Allison’s funeral, you decided that letting your distant facade down just for a day to console the pack won’t kill you.

Approaching them after the reception, a surprised look was painted on each of their faces, especially Scott and Stiles. You gave your condolences to everyone and hugged Stiles and Scott, something you haven’t done in ages. Their bodies stiffen from your unexpected action, but soon they melt into the hug and cling onto you tightly, finally accepting that you were really embracing them.

After pulling apart, you excused Scott to give you and Stiles a moment alone.

“Stiles, I know you’re thinking that this is your fault but listen to me, it is not. You were not in control. You were not you. You did not do this.”

Upon hearing comforting words from his long-lost friend, he let out an excruciating sob. Instinctively, you pulled him into your embrace once again as he squeezed you tighter.

You might not be able to forgive him yet but at least you could be there with him through this disastrous nightmare.

The whole day, you try to steer clear of Stiles or the pack. You know he’s trying to get a hold of you, probably wanting to discuss the unfinished project; but we don’t need to add more to the plate, don’t we?

Once school ended, you quickly rush home. From a distance, you can hear Stiles call out your name. But being the excellent evader you claim to be, you ignore them.

Just as you think the day can’t get any worse, the doorbell in your house chimes, indicating a guest present on your doorsteps. You sigh, knowing who is standing behind that door and this time you can’t dodge it.

So much for being an excellent evader.

“What?” you ask, getting straight to the point.

“We haven’t finished our project. I want to help you do the mind map.” He stares at you innocently, fumbling with his hands.

After all these years and he still got those puppy eyes.

“It’s fine, I can do it myself.” You try closing the door but he beats you to it.

“Come on, Y/N. I don’t want you ratting me out to Coach for forced labor, so please just let me in and we’ll work on it together,” he whines, hand still holding the door open.

Even after everything, you still can’t bring yourself to decline him. You have always had a soft spot for Stiles, which you are planning to terminate because it is starting to be troublesome.

“Fine,” you grunt in defeat.

A favorable grin is plastered on his face as he steps into your house.

Things seemed to change after Allison’s death. You noticed fresh faces joining the pack while familiar ones went away.

But out of the several new members, one had caught your eye the most. Her name’s Malia if you’re not mistaken; a snarky brunette, who’s built like a model too by the way.

From what you could tell from the persistent PDA, she was dating Stiles. Yeah, you weren’t exactly in a position to have a say on it, but you were getting real sketchy vibes from her, or so you thought.

“Stiles, you’re still coming over right?” you heard Malia speak to your ex-best friend as you opened your locker across from them.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll teach you maths too since you’re so bad at it.” You tried not to overhear their conversation but you just couldn’t help it.

“Thanks. You’re the best!” she cried out as she treaded away from Stiles, a pang striking your chest.

Maybe, you’re just slightly jealous.

Okay, slightly was an understatement.

It seemed like you’re still unable to completely erase your suppressed attraction towards him, even when clearly he had.

To minimize any sort of unnecessary interaction, you try to fully put your focus on the project—which works. For the past 15 minutes, the two of you are settled in your living room in silence, minding your own business.

At least until Stiles decides to be clumsy and drop his plastic cup, water spilling all over the floor. You roll your eyes and grab a cloth from the kitchen to clean up the mess.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he curses under his breath as you are drying up the floor.

“It’s fine.”

No actually, it’s not. This situation right here is not fine. You’ve had the shittiest day at school and to make it even worse, Stiles decides to show up uninvitedly at your house which is supposedly your only stress-free zone.

“I’ll help you clean it up.” He squats down, trying to get the cloth from your grip.

“No, you don’t have to.” You don’t want him to cause any more inconvenience, even though you know very well he doesn’t mean it.

“I want to help Y/N, I-“

“What, Stiles? You want to help? Then please for the love of God, leave me alone!” You stand up and snap at him, a bit too loudly. You feel bad for being too hard on him when he’s only trying to help, but you’re unable to extinguish your growing anger.

He straightens up, his once warm face turn into an enraged frown.

“Is this still about what happened back then? Fuck, Y/N. I’ve said sorry, Scott has, thousands of times. But you still don’t want to forgive us. So tell me now Y/N, what should I do, huh?”

The sudden increase in his volume catch you by surprise. He has always been so radiant and carefree, you have never seen him this mad. But despite that, the rage inside of you still does not subdue.

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Stiles. You think that I get to choose not to forgive you, that I’m the evil one and maybe I am at some point. But don’t you dare pull the victim card here.”

Your sight becomes blurry as your eyes start to sting from all the overwhelming emotions but you can care less.

“You lied to me. You left me alone, confused, scared, even after knowing very well how my mom lied to me about my father abandoning me. You know how much I relied on you and Scott, but you still broke my trust. You hurt me. And you think a bunch of “sorry”s will immediately fix that? It’s not that simple, Stiles.”

You’re not screaming as loud as you did before. The tone of your voice softens as a new emotion takes control over your body—pain.

Frustrated, Stiles rummages through his hair while letting out a scoff.

“But it’s not just a bunch of “sorry”s isn’t it? We kept on calling you after that day. We tried approaching you at school. Fuck, I even tried to be nice to you earlier today. But guess what I got in return? Another silent treatment. Why can’t you just fucking move on already? You’re being too overdramatic. No wonder your mom lied to you.”

Bang. His words hit you like a bullet, piercing right through your heart.

Your once agape mouth closes shut, your furrowed eyebrows straighten. Stiles has crossed the line this time.

“Get out,” you spat, emotionless.

“Y/N, I didn’t mean to-“

“I SAID GET OUT, STILES,” you yell at the top of your lungs, frightening him. With horror painted all over his face, he immediately picks up his bag and exits your house, too frightened to say anything else.

As the door shuts, more tears start to flow down your cheeks. You are exhausted. Today’s fiascos have drained every ounce of energy you have left, leaving you like a corpse.

After getting your lifeless, sickly self to shower, you directly plop into your bed, curling yourself in the soft quilt of your blanket. Needing an escape from this dreadful reality, you flutter your eyes shut, instantaneously falling asleep.

You wake up to your accustomed alarm, growling at the blaring sound you set. Finally having enough will to get out of bed, you head to your bathroom.

Turning on the lights, your reflection in the mirror stares back at you.

Gosh, you look dead.

Your skin is as pale as a sheet, your eyes are puffy with prominent dark circles forming under them, your hair is messy and icky. You feel disgustingly terrible.

Dabbing a whole lot of concealer on your skin, you get ready for school; deciding to put whatever catastrophe that had happened yesterday behind you.

Fortunately, you only have one class with Stiles for the day. The day goes by pretty fast and to your delight, pretty decent too, probably because you spend a few periods in the infirmary.

But again, the universe seems to find so much pleasure in inflicting pain on you.

Midway through the class, a sharp sting strikes your head. Interrupting Mr. Yukimura, you excuse yourself to leave the class.

As you reach the empty halls, you feel an eerie sensation creeping all over your body. Alarmed for some reason you don’t know, you scan the halls hastily. You can see nothing, but you do hear something. A bug-like, rattling noise gradually fills your ears, followed by a raspy, unearthly wheeze.

What the fuck is happening?

You’re shivering, cold sweats covering your body. Not being able to stand the unknown terrors, you abruptly sprint to the vacant locker room.

Bad idea. Should’ve picked a more crowded room.

Securing yourself in a room alone definitely does not make you feel any safer. The rattling has stopped but the ominous feeling only grew more prominent.

You are about to escape before sudden nausea hits you. Before you knew it, your knees drop to the floor, your throat retching, vomiting a slimy, ink-like substance.

Now you are horrified.

The door to the locker room flies open, showing two familiar figures. Their eyes find your unusually glowing whiskey-colored ones.

“Fuck, she’s one of them,” Stiles spoke, eyes fixated only on you.

Scott rushes over to you as Stiles stands still, trying to let the sight in front of him sink in. While bracing your fragile body to a steady sitting position, Scott checks in on you with a few “are you okay?”s to which you shake your head.

“What is happening to me, Scott?” you question, panic in your eyes.

After hearing a very complicated and detailed explanation about chimeras and the dread doctors, you are left speechless in front of all the members of the pack who came running right away at the bad news a while ago when you were still seated frozen in a shocked haze.

“Okay so, let me summarize everything,” you mutter so softly to the point it sounds like a whisper while standing up, Stiles hands instinctively finding your body to support you.

“I am a chimera, which is a scientifically-made supernatural creature. The dread doctors, the psychos who are behind this, are going to take me away,” you enunciate to the pack—more like to yourself—to prove your understanding of the matter in which Scott nods in return.

He then tries to come up with a plan to save you from being taken, but you’re not really listening.

Even though you look composed, you are actually on edge, occasionally convincing yourself that everything is under control.

From the very little you heard, basically, they plan on keeping you here in the locker room for the rest of the day—something to do with the telluric currents.

After the plan is finalized, everyone departs for their appointed roles, leaving only one person behind to watch over you.

Out of everyone in the pack, why him?

“I have a spare shirt in my locker, do you maybe want to change into them?” Stiles pointed to your now stained white T-shirt.

You are about to refuse the boy’s offer but looking at the matching black splatter on your shirt and the floor makes you feel queasy, so you comply.

“Okay, we’ll go to the boy’s locker room and leave this mess here.”

“We should clean it-“

“No, you’re not in the state to do any work. I’ll ask someone to clean it up later.” He grabs your arm and leads you out the door to the boy’s locker room, which is no different than the girl’s, pretty disappointing.

Stiles rummages his locker for a second before handing his grey shirt to you.

You stare at him, waiting for him to give you some privacy to change your clothes. But it seems like he isn’t getting the memo.

“What?” he blurts so blatantly as you sigh in return.

Oh God has he always been this slow?

“Are you planning on cheating on Malia? Because I’m about to change here and unless you’re blind, you’re going to have to see me pretty much naked.” His jaw drops at your snarky remark. His face growing warmer as it’s tinted with a crimson color.

“O-Oh yeah, of course. I’m no longer dating Malia though but uhh that’s not important. I’ll turn around- Or do you want me to leave the room? I can do that.” He fidgeted, totally taken aback and flustered.

“Don’t leave me alone, please. Just turn around.”

Both of you are astonished by your statement. But it’s the truth. Alone, you were petrified. At least being with Stiles makes you feel a little more secure.

Just a day ago you were shouting for him to leave, but now you practically begged him to stay. How ironic.

After you have changed into his cozy oversized shirt which for the record smells like his aftershave that you liked, you keep away your dirty shirt, sit on the bench beside him, and thank him.

Once again, silence befalls the both of you. The air between you two today has somehow shifted from yesterday. It’s still thick and tensed, but not full of rage and resentment.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he mutters after a while with his head low.

“Stiles-“

“No, I have to say it. You were right. I was so stupid. I should have never blamed you for not being able to trust me. I’ve hurt you, Y/N, and I deserve this.” His regretful honey eyes are fixed deeply into yours.

Despite the guilt building up inside your body, you do not reply to him straight away. You need time to process this.

Are you still mad at him? Yes. But do you feel bad for being mean towards him? Also yes.

As you are contemplating, the door to the locker room swings open, revealing Scott and the others.

Liam is clutching a large navy duffel bag in his hand, its contents still a mystery to you. Lydia and a man who you aren’t familiar with are carrying a bunch of radio transmitters. Malia is holding a steel bat, which later on is passed over to Stiles.

Once they are all inside, they start to get busy. Lydia, Stiles, and the guy—Parrish, according to what you heard the pack calls him—go around the room, placing the equipment all over it. Malia and Liam are near the door, pushing the shelves to cover all the exits except the main one. And Scott is hovering over the duffel bag which was placed earlier on the bench across you.

He slowly zips the bag open, inspecting it. Being your inquisitive self, you lift your head up to get a better view. But before you get a sight of anything, Scott zips it back close and takes it with him.

After everyone’s done with their designated tasks, they all gather to form a small circle, yourself included.

“Okay, Lydia and Parrish, you two stay in the car outside. Malia and Liam, stand by in the halls. Me, Stiles, and Y/N will stay here. Got it?” Scott instructs clearly to which everybody nods and proceed to their assigned areas.

All of them seem so prepared as if they are properly equipped for battle, except you.

Minutes have passed as there is no sign of the dread doctors. You are sitting quietly on the bench, fumbling with your fingers as Stiles and Scott pace around the room.

Your eyes darted from the two mobile boys to the duffel bag resting on the bench in front of you. Now, you’re curious.

When Scott isn’t looking, you swiftly slide to the opposite bench and zip the bag open, uncovering a bunch of weighty chains.

“What are these for?” Your voice echoes through the noiseless room, earning glances from them both.

“I brought them, just in case.” Scott moves closer to where you are.

“In case of what?” You don’t quite understand what he is implying.

“In case we have a chance to catch one of them,” Scott answered composedly.

“What?” Stiles snaps from behind Scott.

“If we can’t make the school a fortress, maybe we can make it a trap.” Scott’s attempt to explain to the two of you only receives a scoff of disbelief from Stiles.

“And you’re making her the bait?” he questions sharply.

“That’s not what I said-“

“Yeah, right.” Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott glances over to you, an apologetic look plastered on his face.

You don’t know what to feel about this situation. Yes, you are hurt that Scott possibly considered you as bait. But rationally, he does have a point. At the same time, you are also impressed at Stiles' initiative to immediately defend you.

“Wait a minute, I hear something. I’ll go out and check it. You two stay here.” Before any of you can protest, Scott fleets out of the room.

And then there’s two. Awkward silence once again engulfs the two of you. But this time, you’re the one who breaks it.

“Thank you, for defending me,” you utter gently as he sat beside you.

“Of course, Y/N. Always. I will always protect you.” He grasps your hands into his, giving you a reassuring smile, relieved that you finally drop your cold exterior.

The long-awaited moment of truce you two are sharing is sadly interrupted by the familiar rattling noise that unexpectedly appeared, causing you to stand up, followed by Stiles.

“Stiles, I hear them,” you quiver, fear rushing through your body.

“Me too. Hey, Scott?” He forms a half-circle using his palms, cupping them around this mouth. He continues to call out his best friend’s name a few more times before he retreats.

“Where the fuck is he?” Exasperated and worried, he restlessly gazes around the room.

“They’re coming, Stiles.” Feeling hopeless and discouraged, you put your hand on his shoulder, trying to calm his agitated body. You have accepted your fate. They’re taking you away.

“No, I’m not letting them take you.” His hands caress the sides of your arms, tears forming in his eyes.

“They will.” Your palms cup his face, thumb wiping away the warm teardrops streaming down his cheeks.

Mirroring your actions, he also cups your cheeks, staring at the little details of your face, memorizing them like it’s the last time he’ll get to be close to you.

Then he tilts his head and leans closer, shutting the distance between your lips. Fluttering your previously widened eyes shut, your lips passionately brushed along his plump ones as your hands fall from his cheeks to his chest, heart pounding loudly, warmth radiating throughout your body.

Just as he initiated it, he pulls away, honey eyes never leaving yours.

“I will find you, okay?” You nod as shadows appear behind Stiles’ figure.

The dread doctors.

He also sensed their presence as he immediately snatches his bat from the bench. He commands you to stay behind him which you obey.

Cowering behind Stiles’ figure, they have the two of you cornered and helpless. He tightens his grip and aggressively swings his bat at one of them but to no avail. Inching closer, they shove him away, grabbing a hold of both your arms.

You’re hysterically crying out for help, vigorously attempting to break free. Forcefully holding you still, they jab a sharp needle to the side of your neck as your limp body dropped to the ground. Your vision turns dark, the last thing you see is Stiles’ unconscious body lying in front of you.

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eating-plastic · 9 months

Text

Heart-Shaped Roller Rink: Roller Ricky x Reader

Warnings: A lot of tooth rotting fluff, slow burn, age gap (reader is implied to be in their early 20s, Roller Ricky is in his late 30s), some swearing, first kiss, a bit of city life slander (sorry for my city lovers), mentions of alcoholism, mentions of going to the hospital, Roller Ricky just pouring all of his trauma out to you (poor bby), Max being a good boy, probably cringy dialogue, probably an incorrect assumption on how transferring colleges and buying houses worked in the 80s, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 7910 Words

A/N: Yay, my first x reader fic! How fun! This may seem rough around the edges, but I’m still very happy with what I came up with. I’d like to thank all the 80s love songs I listened to that helped me with writing this lol. Anyhoo, I , like most Killer Frequency fans, absolutely fell in love with Roller Ricky, so I knew I had to write an x reader fic with him. See you!

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Ever since you were small, you’ve had a fascination with the simplicity of small town living, despite living in a large city your whole life. Anytime you and your family would go on a road trip, you’d always stop to get gas, eat, and just walk around the small towns you’d come across. You liked the architecture, the less stuffy air and streets, the people that radiated the friendliness of a greeting card. It was like walking into a whole new world that you always felt yourself longing for even into your adulthood. Still, you never really thought you’d ever truly live in one. The little job opportunities and often lack of colleges is what kept that simple life you wanted just out of reach.

That was until your roommate came back from her winter vacation with some news she had known you would love. While driving to a cabin her family had rented out, she drove through a small town that she knew checked all of your boxes of what you were looking for. You wanted to believe her, but you didn't want to get your hopes up in case it would just be another town you’d only live in when you dreamed. That was until your roommate showed you some polaroid pictures she had taken when she stopped for gas. Gallows Creek, she said it was called, and the best part: it had a college.

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To make a long story short, a bunch of back and forth phone calls and a bunch of paperwork being mailed later, your mission of transferring was 90% completed. Only one problem still remained: Where you were going to live. Well actually there was also the problem of getting a job, but you’d tackle that once you’ve found a place to live.

You have only ever gotten a couple of surprises in your life, but none of them and any of the surprises following will trump the one you got when you found out you would be able to own an actual house in Gallows Creek. Specifically, there were three houses on the market, all one story and all in pretty good condition. Your spring break was spent with Gallows Creek Realty looking at the houses yourself, because you honestly couldn’t believe that you really could own a house with your college student budget. You couldn’t even afford a tiny, dingy apartment in your home city with the money you had. Small towns apparently had the added bonus of having affordable, nice houses. Either way, a good deal was a good deal, and by the end of your spring break you had made your decision.

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The end of the semester felt like it took both forever and a mere second to arrive. You packed up as much of your stuff as you could in your car, putting whatever couldn’t fit in your parents’. You had picked a cute little house on Romero street. Not only did you like the house, but you liked the location too, finding yourself surrounded by possible job opportunities. Sure it was gonna be a bit of a drive to get to your classes, but considering that you didn’t have to worry about backed up traffic, you could handle it. As soon as everything was unloaded and you said your goodbyes to your parents, you slumped down in one of the chairs in the living room. Today you would just worry about unpacking, organizing, and most importantly relaxing.

Once you caught your breath and looked around the room at where your stuff could possibly go, you started unpacking. You got halfway through organizing your silverware in your new kitchen, when there was a knock at the front door. Upon opening it, you were face to face with a friendly looking, elderly couple.

“Hello there, dear,” the old woman started. “We had noticed you had just moved in and wanted to give you a warm welcome.”

You looked down and saw her offering you a small plate of fresh baked cookies.

“Oh, thank you!” you carefully take the plate from her old, weathered hands.

“We’re the Castevets,” the old man said, offering you his hand to shake. “Your neighbors on your right.”

You take his hand and introduce yourself before shaking his wife’s hand as well.

“So, what brings you to Gallows Creek anyways?” Mr. Castevet asked.

“Yes, it’s not a place many move to. Especially those as young as yourself,” Mrs. Castevet adds.

You had no problem providing them an explanation. You were used to explaining your love for small towns and how Gallows Creek had everything you wanted.

“Besides,” you conclude. “If everyone is as nice as you two, how couldn’t I move in?”

The Castevets laugh, before the husband of the duo reaches into his back pocket to find a small packet.

“You’ll find a couple of hardasses, but they’re few and far between. Here, for you,” he hands you the packet, which appears to be a brochure of Gallows Creek. Inside of it was a map with a description of each significant place your new home held.

“Thanks! I’ll definitely be needing this, tomorrow,” you smile at the couple.

“Well, I think we should leave you to continue unpacking. Just wanted to show you a bit of Gallows Creek hospitality,” Mrs. Castevet decided, her husband agreeing with her.

You said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once more to unpack, but this time with a plate of cookies and good spirits to keep you going.

--------------------

You had decided your second day in Gallows Creek would be spent getting acquainted with the town a bit. Mostly trying to find a job and get some groceries, but a bit of exploration wouldn’t hurt. You left with high spirits that only soared higher when the Castevets greeted you from their front yard garden.

Your search was…decent. It wasn’t terrible, I mean sure, only three out of the six places you had visited were hiring, and one of them was the Gallows Reporter which had one of the few hardasses that Mr. Castevet had mentioned, so that one was probably out, but still. You weren’t going to be discouraged, though. You look at the map you were gifted while you walked.

‘There’s still the supermarket,’ you thought. ‘I need groceries anyway. Let’s see…there’s also the library…KFAM-.’

“Woah woah woah, careful!”

A voice pulls you from your thoughts and your map as you quickly move out of the way. An older woman in bright aerobics clothes stops in front of you and continues to jog in place. Despite almost crashing into her, she still seemed cheerful.

“Careful there, dear. I coulda hitcha,” she said while still holding a smile on her face. “I don’t think I recognize you, stranger.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m new to Gallows Creek,” you hold your hand out and introduce yourself. “Sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’ve tripped over more people than I can count. Anyhoo, I’m Sandra. It’s always nice to meet new faces,” after shaking your hand, Sandra looks down to the map in your hand, all while still jogging in place. “Oh, what are you looking for?”

“I’m just exploring the town a bit. Trying to find a job and all that-.”

“Oh, you’re looking for a job? Good! I’ve got a position just for you at my jazz studio! Come on!”

Sandra takes your hand before you can speak, and drags you down a block or two before you come face to face with a large, brightly colored building.

“There! Now let's see…I’m sure I can whip up all the paperwork you need! Then, we’ll-!”

“Sandra!” of course you are happy that she was so quick to offer you a job, but first you needed to get some things out of the way. “This is really nice of you, but what will I even do?”

“Oh, your job is simple. Let’s see…you’ll help keep the studio tidy, pick out songs to play for a session, decide routines, keep equipment organized and clean oh and you can even participate in classes absolutely free,” she counts off your potential tasks on one of her hands. “You’ll do fine. Besides, my hours are very flexible. You just give me a call, okay?”

You honestly couldn’t believe what you were hearing. It was just like you getting your house. There had to be a catch, right?

“Nope! No catch at all!,” Sandra exclaims. “Now, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself.”

--------------------

It shocks you how an older woman like Sandra could have so much energy that makes even you feel exhausted. Still, she was a very friendly and even encouraging woman, which you found out when you had mentioned college. When you checked your watch and saw that it was three o’clock, you had to wrap the conversation up. On top of being high energy, Sandra could really talk about anything and everything. You told her that you would keep in touch with her, a.k.a take her offer. I mean, you weren’t going to pass up another good deal.

You would also rather have Sandra as a boss over that “hardass” at the Reporter.

Now, you are walking back home with two large bags of groceries in your arms. Sure, you would’ve been able to buy more if you had backtracked to your house for your car, but with it literally being walking distance, it seemed like overkill. Besides, you were saving money by only buying necessities and not getting gas.

As you walk up to your front door and set your groceries down to find your keys, you look up to the house on your left. You haven’t met that neighbor yet. After you put your groceries away, you’ll head over to see if anyone’s home.

You didn’t know what to expect with your other neighbor. You thought about who they could be as you put groceries away. You imagined that they’d be as friendly as the Castevets or Sandra. Then again, they could also be a total asshole. No, if Mr. Castevet was right, then the chances that they are a dick would be slim to none.

Well, only one way to find out.

With the last of your groceries put away, you head out your front door and walk towards the house. You don’t even realize that you are fiddling with your hands in a nervous manner.

‘What do I have to be worried about?’ you take a deep breath. ‘If they’re an asshole, then just don’t talk to them.’

The way you saw it, one good neighbor that always had your back would always outweigh the rude and antagonistic. You also knew that when you were nervous about something, it always arrived faster. Case and point, you were now on your other neighbor’s doorstep.

Whelp, here goes nothing. You raise your fist and knock three times.

The sound of a loud dog barking makes you jump, even though it doesn’t sound malicious. You hear a man’s voice on the other side of the door, but it’s too muffled to make out exactly what he is saying. Probably trying to calm the dog down if you had to guess. When the door opened, you were a bit taken aback.

Not in a bad way. Nope, definitely not in a bad way. In fact, you would have to say that the man you were now looking at was probably one of the most handsomest men you have ever seen. Short dark hair, a nice build from what you could tell from your peripheral, a nice face, and the one feature that had captured you the most: his dark eyes. They looked friendly enough, and yet they looked like they were concealing…something. You didn’t know what, but you did know that you loved staring into them…and that you had been staring for way too long.

“Um, hi, sorry. I just wanted to introduce my-woah!” your awkward rambling gets cut off when you feel a cold, wet nose nudging and sniffing your hand. You look down to see a large, but friendly staring dog looking back at you.

“Sorry about that. Looks like Max wants to say ‘hi’ back,” the man laughs nervously. You note that you like his voice. You reach your hand out to the canine, who closes the distance between it and his head. You scratch his ears, causing his tail to wag.

“That’s okay. Um, let me start over,” you introduce yourself properly this time, just saying that you’re his new neighbor who just wanted to say “hi”.

“Oh, right! Yeah, I wanted to walk over and introduce myself, but I had to take someone for his evening walk. I, uh, thought it was too late. I tried again this morning, but the Castevets told me you had left. Just my luck, huh?” he offers his hand out to you, which you shake. His hand was nice.

‘Jeez, was there anything about him that wasn’t nice?’ you wonder.

“I’m Ricky, but most folks around here call me Roller Ricky. Got it because of how often I’m at the roller rink,” he explains.

“Makes sense,” you say, smiling. “Does Max here have any fun names too?”

Ricky laughs, and you have to refrain yourself from thinking about how nice it sounds.

“No, not that I know off. I just call him ‘Maxy’. He should get a fun name, though. He’s even better at skating than me.”

“He can skate?” you ask, and instantly get the image of the big dog trying to move around with skates on his paws.

“Yep! I taught him everything he knows,” he beams before his face drops. He curses and spins around to shut his door that had still been open this whole time. He turns back to you and once again laughs nervously. “Sorry. Bugs.”

“Oh shit! Right, yeah. I, um, I should probably wrap this up,” you don’t want to leave, but the urge to be polite overrides it. You do have a small epiphany, though. “Hey, the roller rink? It’s nearby, right? Maybe I’ll swing by tomorrow. You know, to see Maxy skate.”

“Yeah, sure! That’ll be great. He loves to show off, don’t you boy?” the canine moves away from you and back to his owner to get some attention from him. You laugh.

“It’s settled, then. See you tomorrow, Roller Ricky. See you, Max,” you turn to head back home, causing the canine to whine in confusion at his new ear scratcher walking away.

“Yep! Be seeing you too!” and with that, Ricky reopens his door to usher Max back inside.

You didn’t even realize you were back in your house until the sound of the front door closing behind you roused you from your thoughts.

That truly couldn’t have gone any better.

---------------------

“Oh, good choice! That one’s always been a favorite of mine,” Sandra exclaimed at the album you pick out for one of her sessions, tomorrow. “Now let’s see….Oh, I haven’t done this routine in a while!”

Working with Sandra was as simple as she had described. It honestly just felt like you were working with a friend, even though you have only known her for less than 24 hours.

You showed up at the jazz studio that morning to accept her offer. You had to wait a bit as Sandra had a class going at the moment. Once it was done and everyone funneled out of the large gym room, you entered. Sandra was ecstatic to see you, and even more so when you accepted her offer. Now, you two were in her colorful office full of extra exercise equipment and albums on both cassette tapes and vinyl records. What was supposed to be you both coming up with the agenda for tomorrow's classes, was mostly just you and her talking. As such, you were constantly looking down at your watch to make sure you wouldn’t be too late with meeting Ricky and Max at the roller rink.

You’d be damned if you never saw Max on roller skates.

“I wouldn’t be too worried, you know,” Sandra smirks at your fidgeting. “He’s called ‘Roller Ricky’ for a reason. He and his dog are always at that roller rink even into the late evening. Besides, he’ll definitely wait up for a pretty little thing like yourself.”

“Sandra!” you blush at her words, but with how you talked about your interaction with Ricky yesterday, even a blind man would be able to see the crush you had on him.

“You know…if it really bothers you so much, you can just go make sure everything in the gym is organized and clock out. I’ll take care of the rest-ah, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Sandra cuts you off before you can object.

It feels wrong leaving after barely doing anything on your first day, but Sandra really wasn’t going to let you stay. With that, you walk to the gym, put a few things away in their proper places, and walk out the door.

One thing you had quickly grown to love about Gallows Creek was how close everything was. Even now, as you almost walk past the actual roller rink due to how lost in your thoughts you were, you still enjoyed it.

Walking through the front doors causes you to find yourself face to face with bright neon colors, upbeat music, and the collective chatter of all the people. You notice that there were a lot of families on the floor of the rink, telling you that this is a popular place for kids to spend their summer break. The thought makes you smile but also nostalgic.

“Oh, hey! There you are!”

A voice rouses you from your thoughts, and you look up to see Roller Ricky with a wide smile on his face and leaning on the fence that separated the entryway from the actual rink.

“You didn’t think I was going to stand you up, did you?” while it comes out as a joke, you really hope he didn’t actually think you were going to flake on him.

“What, you? Nah! You don’t seem like that kind of person.”

“You haven’t even known me for an hour, and you already know everything about me? Do you have a good judgment of character or something?” you quip.

“Eh…that’s debatable, but for the sake of the argument I’ll say yes.”

You laugh, until a furry creature on the rink floor catches your attention.

“No way,” you let out a laugh in disbelief. Turns out Ricky wasn’t lying at all when he said that Max could skate well. He was gliding in between adults and children alike as if he didn’t even have skates on, occasionally getting a scratch behind the ears here and there.

Ricky grins at your reaction.

“Did you think I was lying?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” you say, shaking your head. What you were seeing was both impressive and sad. Impressive because it was a dog roller skating as if it was second nature. Sad because a dog knew how to skate…and you couldn’t.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ricky reaches over to unlatch a gate next to him and opens it, gesturing for you to enter the rink floor. “Let's get you some skates and have some fun!”

“Wait, what? Ricky I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you stutter out due to the suddenness of you being pulled from your focus on Max.

“What’s wrong? Do you not know how to skate?” he cocks his head to the side.

“Um…yeah,” might as well be honest with him.

“Is that all? That’s nothing to be worried about! Come on, I’ll teach you!” he once again gestures for you to enter.

You glance back at the rink floor. There were a good amount of people. It wasn’t packed by any means, but still enough for you to potentially bump into or knock someone down. Not to mention all the people that would see you fall on your butt over and over.

And yet the reassuring look on Ricky’s face caused you to hesitantly enter. He latches the gate behind you before you follow him over to some benches.

“Alrighty, the first part of skating is easy: Tell me your shoe size,” the statement makes you laugh and almost melts your nerves. Almost. You tell him your size and remove your shoes to trade for your skates. He disappears into a small room next to the benches, however he quickly sticks his head back out to look at you. “Hey, second question: what’s your favorite color?”

You tell him and he disappears once more. A couple of seconds later, Roller Ricky reappears holding skates in both your size and favorite color.

“Voila! See, you’ve already got the first part of skating down.”

You laugh again. Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad after all. You take the skates and put them on, being sure to fasten them tightly.

“Okay, you ready to go?” he beams.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…I guess,” you try to mirror his enthusiasm, but clearly it must not have looked convincing.

“You’ll be fine. This next part isn’t too difficult. You just need to work on your balance. Here, take my hands and just hang on, okay?” he holds his hands out, which you take.

Once again, maybe learning to skate wasn’t going to be that bad.

That thought only lasted a mere second as you stood up. Your legs instantly felt wobbly and your grip on Ricky’s hands only grew tighter.

“You’re okay. Just keep hanging on,” he gives you an encouraging smile before looking over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn’t bump into anyone as he started to skate backwards.

Your legs still felt like Jell-O even with Ricky confidently gliding backwards. You could only imagine what you looked like to the other skaters. The scene of Bambi walking on ice came to your mind. Yep, you probably looked just like that. Even with your self depreciation on your lack of skating skills, Ricky still looked at you as if your legs weren’t as unstable as a newborn giraffe’s. Occasionally he would even tell you that you were doing fine.

After a bit of gliding, and a reassuring boost from Max coming to say “hi” to you, your legs felt sturdy and you began to feel confident in your skates. Ricky saw this new found confidence too, and felt that it would be time for you to master your next lesson.

“See, look! You got this part down to a tee! You wanna try to actually move now?” he asks.

After glancing around the rink and seeing that a couple of people had left, you made up your mind.

“You know what? Yeah! Let’s do it!”

--------------------

By the end of the day and a couple of trips onto your butt later, you had gotten the hang of actually gliding from one end of the rink to the other. You still felt a bit clunky, but you considered the fact that you weren’t slipping anymore to be a victory. A lot of your confidence of course, had to go to Roller Ricky. He truly was a good teacher. Always encouraging you and treating every little bit of progress as an achievement. Even when you did inevitably fall, he had laughed at you, but not in a malicious way. It was always playful and he would calm your embarrassment by saying that everyone slips their first time around.

Now, you were sitting back on the benches untying your skates, feeling much better about yourself than you did when you first sat down.

“Now, what were you so worried about? You’ll be a natural in no time,” Ricky grinned while waiting for you to get your skates off.

“I owe that all to you. You’re a really good teacher,” you hand him your skates.

“Why do you think I charge people for lessons?” he joked while walking into the small room to get your shoes, but the tone was lost on you.

“Oh yeah, right, of course! Uh…how much do I owe you?” you called to him. He returned to you with your shoes, smiling and shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it. Consider it a ‘good neighbor’ discount,” he winks.

‘How did I luck out and meet such generous people?’ you wonder.

Every effort to try and get Ricky to tell you how much you owed him fell on deaf ears.

“How about this,” he begins. “I’ll consider us even if you can buy a bag of jerky for me and Maxy to share from the vending machine. That’ll be your payment.”

You decide to take it. It was something. After all, Ricky deserved it for not only being a good teacher, but a nice person too. And Max was just always a good boy, so he deserved a snack as well.

You had learned a bit about Ricky while he was teaching you. You had learned that he played football in high school which explains his nice build, how he was still into the sport although now watching instead of actually playing, how he enjoyed occasionally going on long drives to nowhere in particular with Max, how he would occasionally jog with Sandra which would explain how she knew him, his favorite movie genre was comedy, he had a preference for spicy foods, and the most shocking revelation of all: he was in his late 30s. You thought he was in his late 20s at most from how young he looked. Perhaps you were just used to men his age being so worn down from the bustling life of the city.

Still, with everything he had revealed about himself, there was still something he was trying to protect. That didn't really shock you. Your…friendship, if that was the proper word, was still very new. While he did say he considered you a friend after you both talked about yourselves, you just weren’t used to making one so fast. If you tried doing that in your home city, people would think you were crazy.

With all the reflection you were doing on the day, you didn’t even realize you had put money into the vending machine near the front doors of the roller rink and got Ricky and Max’s jerky until you heard the sound of it hitting the slot. You grab it, before walking back. As soon as you are close enough to Ricky, you toss the bag towards him.

“Woah!” he grabs it, before smirking at you. “Thanks! Now enough of this ‘paying’ stuff, got it? This is good enough.”

At the sound of Ricky tearing open the bag in his hands, Max eagerly begins to glide towards his owner. Ricky scratches behind the canine’s ears, before asking him to perform a couple of tricks for a jerky strip. It amuses you greatly. However, as luck would call it, your stomach began to growl.

“Augh, I guess that’s my cue to head home and make some dinner,” just like when you first met Ricky, you didn’t want to leave.

“Oh yeah, I guess I have kept you here long enough, huh?” he rubs the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it. Besides, I had fun, ‘teach’,” you quip, causing him to chuckle. “I’ll be seeing you two tomorrow?”

“Only if you’re not busy,” he nods.

You nod back to him, and feel the overwhelming urge to kiss him before leaving. Self control pushes the thought to the back of your mind just as quickly as it had popped up, though. You settle with giving him a smile, before turning and walking out the front doors. At least you thought you saw Ricky looking as disappointed about you leaving as you did too.

‘Damn you, stomach.’

--------------------

You really loved the smell of ‘Rise and Shine Coffee’. It became common for you and Sandra to head there after her noon class. She claimed that she needed a bit of extra “pep” before her session at 2 o’clock. You enjoyed these little coffee breaks with her. Although, you really could take or leave trying to keep up with her as she always insisted on jogging to the coffee shop instead of a leisurely stroll.

It was August now, and your new life in Gallows Creek was still positive. Your relationships with Sandra, Ricky, and of course Max were still going strong. Even the Castevets never stopped being friendly towards you, occasionally bringing you leftovers from their dinner the previous night. Mrs. Castevet even made you some red, white, and blue frosted cookies for the 4th of July.

Unfortunately, you were going to have to prepare for your time with everyone to become limited. Classes were going to start up at the end of the month and you could feel the mix of excitement and nerves in your stomach. Maybe that's why you barely touched your muffin. It could’ve very well been untouched because the urge to confess your feelings for Ricky were starting to become almost unbearable, though.

“So let me get this straight,” Sandra begins. “You have had a crush on this man since the day you met him and practically see him everyday…and you still haven’t told him you are absolutely in love with him?”

“It’s not that easy, Sandra,” you take a sip of your beverage. “If I confess and he doesn’t feel the same, I’ll ruin everything. We’ll never be able to properly hang out with each other ever again. Besides…you really don’t think that the fact I’m kinda…younger than him is an issue?”

“Of course it’s not an issue!” Sandra looks at you as if you had said something absurd. “You’re pretty, you’re sweet, you’re attentive…you’ve got a great taste in music.”

Sandra continues to list off as many good qualities she could about you, before you cut her off.

“Sandra, I’m serious. I really, really like Ricky, and I really don’t want to ruin everything we have.”

“Hun, I have known Roller Ricky longer than you have. You confessing will not ruin everything,” she reaches across the table of the booth the two of you were sitting at and takes your hands, squeezing them reassuringly. She thinks for a moment, before a smirk forms on her face. “You know…I wouldn’t count on him not having a crush on you.”

Your eyes widen at that.

“What are you talking about?” you say, trying to not sound too hopeful.

“Don’t you remember? We go jogging every once and a while. And while we jog…he tells me a lot of revealing things,” she leans in a bit closer to you. “Believe me when I say this, hun. How he talks about you would make a person think that he was head over heels in love.”

“You’re…you’re sure about that?”

“Hm, I don’t know. Have I ever lied to you?”

She had got you there. Sandra was always honest with you ever since the day you had met her. Plus, her closeness with Ricky did make her claim hold some weight. You nod your head and sigh.

“You’ve got me there. So…you really think I should tell him?”

“You tell him, dear, and I’ll give you a raise!”

“Sandra…seriously?” you finally crack a smile.

“Mmhm, I mean it. You confess to him, oh let’s say…before your classes start up, and I’ll give you a 15% raise,” she holds one of her hands out for you to seal the deal. After staring at it for a bit and mulling over her offer in your head, you reach out and shake it.

“There! It’s settled then!” Sandra nods at you, before changing the subject entirely. “Now, let me tell you what I heard yesterday….”

--------------------

You thought about Sandra’s offer the whole day, even when planning tomorrow's classes. You didn’t want to jump immediately to confessing that day, however you didn’t really know if you would get a better opportunity.

Instead of hanging out with Ricky and Max at the roller rink like always, he had decided to invite you over to his place for dinner. Sandra of course lit up when you revealed such vital information, and you had to tell her it was not a date, even though you really wanted to call it that.

Your brain was a battlefield of “should yous” and “should you nots”. You hated the back and forth and all the doubts. All the fear.

And Sandra was growing tired of it.

“There really is nothing to be afraid of, dear,” she repeats. “Besides, you really don’t have to confess, tonight. You’ve got the whole month don’tcha?”

“I...I know...but tonight would just be so...,” you trail off. Maybe just getting this off your chest as soon as possible would be best.

“It is rather romantic, isn’t it,” a small smile spreads across Sandra’s face. “I don’t think I have ever heard of Ricky inviting his friends over to dinner, before.”

“It’s still something friends do, though,” you sigh as you shoot the idea down.

“Oh, enough of that!” Sandra exclaims, completely done with your negativity. “If you confess tonight, you’ll leave his place, still his friend or something better. I don’t know how many more times I gotta repeat myself before you get it, hun, but I am being completely honest with you. Besides, the weight’s only gonna get worse and worse the long you wait. Now, tell me: which of those sound like the better outcome?”

You’re almost frozen on the spot at your typically happy-go-lucky boss snapping at you, but you know that it’s just her wanting the best for you.

“The...the first one,” you answer.

Sandra nods, before gently pulling you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m sorry for snapping, dear,” she begins. “But I know how badly you want to tell him, and I know how badly he wants to tell you. Ricky is as in love with you as you are him, hun. You have nothing to worry about.”

You stay in Sandra’s arms and continue to replay her words in your head. After repeating her words enough times, you are decided. You pull away from her, and look into her eyes.

“Okay,” your voice is barely over a whisper.

--------------------

Your heart to heart with Sandra was very much appreciated. You had to admit, having that moment really helped her encouraging words pierce your mind easier.

By the time the clock told you to head over to Ricky’s, you felt gassed up and ready to go. Sandra yelled “good luck” to you as you walked away from the studio towards your neighborhood.

Now you were approaching Ricky’s house, with your chin still high and a smile on your face. After getting to his front door, you knock just as you did when you had first gone over to introduce yourself.

‘God, that feels so long ago,’ you reminisce.

Max began to bark eagerly from inside, and you could hear Ricky trying to calm him down before walking towards his door. He opens it and beams when his eyes land on you.

“Hey, uh, come on in,” he steps to the side to allow you to walk inside. “Thanks for coming. I, uh, I didn’t know if you were going to show up.”

“You didn’t think I was going to stand you you, did you?” you joke once more. This makes him laugh.

“Nope! Not at all!” he closes the door behind you.

Upon entering his house, you notice how the interior was arranged very similarly to your own, with the exception of the dog toys, leash hanging by the front door, and a large dog bed next to his TV.

Oh, and of course the large dog that was greeting you and trying to get you to scratch him behind his ears. You laugh and pet Max before you stick your nose into the air and sniff, catching the scent of something familiar to you.

“Ricky, are you cooking something?” you ask as he walks into his kitchen. He laughs, nervously.

“Well, do you remember how I asked you what your favorite dish was, yesterday?” he calls back.

You let out an incredulous laugh before moving from your spot in the entryway and walking into the kitchen, which was also laid out similarly to yours. The smell of your favorite dish only got stronger as you got closer to Ricky, who had his back to you as he checked the food. You lean against one of his counters and look at what he had prepared. The sight made your stomach growl.

“Now that looks good!” you grin up at him.

“Thanks. I, uh, I really wanted it to turn out perfectly. I even called Mrs. Castevet over to make sure.”

You giggle at that. You really didn’t know if it was possible for Ricky to get any cuter.

He reaches for a cabinet nearby and takes two dishes to put the food on. He opens his mouth to say something but Max’s whining causes his brain to change direction.

“Hey, uh, you don’t mind getting Maxy some supper too. His food’s in the big blue container there,” he nods his head over to where the container sat near a food bowl, water bowl, and a hungry Max.

“Nope, not at all,” you walk over to the canine and coo to him as you feed him.

While you feed and pet the large dog, Ricky places the two plates on his small dining room table. He then turns to get two glasses to fill with water.

You move from your spot near Max to sit at the table. Ricky came back with the two glasses, handing you yours before sitting on his end of the table.

You eat and compliment him on his cooking. The dish tastes almost as good as how your mother would make it, which impresses you.

--------------------

The rest of dinner was filled with idle chatter here and there, with both of you talking about your days and anything else that came to Ricky’s mind. He was a bit similar to Sandra with how he could pull out random topics to discuss, and like with Sandra, it amazed you. However, he seemed to suddenly shift the conversation to a new topic or be vague about some things. You had noticed this change in how he conversed with you a couple of weeks ago. While it did have you curious, you never questioned him about it.

Now that dinner has come to the end, so has the positive energy. Ricky was deep in thought about something, and the dark eyes that had once hidden some type of pain were starting to reveal itself to you.

“Ricky, what’s wrong?” you look at him, worried.

He parts his lips as if wanting to say something, but shuts them. You watch him mull over what he wanted to say in his head, until he finally has it.

“I wanna talk to you about something,” he says, while standing up from his seat. You stand up as well, and follow him into his living room. He sits down on his sofa and you decide to join him. You look at him with concern in your eyes, waiting for him to speak.

He takes a deep breath before starting.

“I wanna tell you this because…because you have always been so honest and open with me and…I haven’t,” He swallows before continuing. “And that’s not right of me. You deserve me being open when you have told me so much about yourself and your life, the good and the bad.”

You don’t speak. You want Ricky to feel like he can let out everything he needs to. It’s quiet except for the clack of Max’s nails on the floor as he moves to rest his head on his owner’s knee.

“There was a period of my life that I’m not proud of. I had lost someone close to me…and for years I blamed myself for it. Some of what should’ve been the best years of my life were spent with me drinking the pain away. Even when I would get blackout drunk and wake up with hangovers that made me feel like I was dying, I still drank .That's, uh, that’s the thing about having a problem…you never truly realize how bad it all is until it’s too late,” Ricky closes his eyes, clearly remembering another harsh experience and starts to pet the large canine near him. You give him his time to recover, until he feels comfortable continuing.

“One of my old friends had visited me. Wanted to check up on me. God, I can only imagine what I looked like to him. I probably looked like a blubbering, drunken idiot….The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. According to my friend, I had passed out and was unresponsive. My breathing was shallow, too. He thought I was dying. Apparently I had to get my stomach pumped. Laying in that hospital bed, I probably did look like I was dead. My skin was pale and I felt exhausted. My friend was there, waiting for me to wake up. He told me that I had a problem and I believed him. It took me winding up in the hospital to realize I needed to get help...so that’s what I did,” slowly, the pain in his voice began to melt away now that he was entering better memories.

“It’s really amazing just how much talking with someone can help. People who are always there for you, even when you relapse…even when the withdrawals start to feel unbearable. I own each one of them for pulling me out of that dark period of my life, especially the one that recommended I get an emotional support dog. I, uh, I bet you can guess who that is,” he cracks a smile while looking down at Max, and you nod. “Eventually, I finally got my life together and I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since.”

You were speechless. Your tongue felt like it was made of lead. You took this time to process what you should say.

“Jesus, Ricky,” you say in the meantime.

“I just feel like you should know that. You deserve that after how…avoidant I’ve started to become with us talking. You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve…,” he stops, not knowing how to continue. Fortunately, you knew what to say now.

“Ricky,” you take one of his hands into your own and wait until he turns his head to look at you. “You are very brave for not only going through all of that, but also telling me all of it. I’m happy that you trust me enough to open up, but I didn’t care that you weren’t revealing anything. I’m used to people being distant and private, so I respected whatever you decided.”

It’s true, you really didn’t care. You respected his decision of keeping something so personal private. After all, not many people in the city wore their hearts on their sleeves and broadcasted such things to others. Sometimes not even those they loved.

Your words dance in Ricky’s head and he glances away from you.

“You really are too good of a person, you know that?” he lets out a weak chuckle. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve a friend like you.”

“Honestly,” you begin, wondering if you should really go through with what you wanted to say. “I don’t think there is anything you can say that would make me stop being your friend. Especially not what you just told me.”

‘Oh God, I’m really doing this,’ you thought.

“You are a very sweet, funny, and patient guy, Ricky,” you’re really going to do this. “You have been a wonderful friend to me. In fact, I think you’ve been too good of a friend.”

Ricky looks at you confused, wondering where you were going with this.

“There really isn’t anything you can say that would push me away from you, because…,” whelp, here it comes. “...Because I am in love with you, Ricky….I…I think I have been since the day I met you.”

There it is, you finally admitted it. You finally got it off your chest. While you felt relieved to say it, you still needed to know Ricky’s response. The silence causes you to look down at your hands that are resting on your lap, and you begin to fiddle with them.

Eventually, all the waiting becomes too much.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I’ll be okay with that. Just please promise me you’ll still be my friend. Please,” you finally look back at Ricky, who had a surprised look on his face.

After hearing how small your voice was and seeing the pleading look in your eyes, he realizes that he should speak as well.

“I…you mean it?” he asks.

You nod, unable to find your voice.

“Well,” he begins. “Would you believe me if…if I said that I’m in love with you too.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“Wha-really?”

“Yes,” before he cracks a small smile. “I have been ever since I taught you how to skate.”

You crack your own smile, back.

“That…that long, huh?”

Ricky nods.

You truly didn’t know a time that you’ve felt this happy. Without thinking, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a tight hug. Ricky chuckles at this and wraps his arms around you too. The two of you stay like that for a while, not wanting to let go for fear that this would all fade away, becoming nothing but a dream. After a while, you find something else you can confess.

“Can I tell you something else?” you ask, pulling away from him.

“Of course.”

“You obviously remember the day you taught me how to skate,” he nods, waiting for you to continue. “Well, when I had to leave to make dinner…I really wanted to kiss you before leaving.”

This causes his smile to widen.

“Really?” he asks.

“Mmhm, I did.”

“Well,” Ricky drawls, thinking about how to quip at that. “Do you want to have that kiss, now?”

You giggle and nod, slowly beginning to lean forward. He does the same, slowly leaning towards you until his lips touch yours.

As soon as this occurs, it feels like fireworks explode behind your eyes and electricity runs through your veins. You never thought a kiss could make you feel high.

Max looks up from where he was laying on the floor and wags his tail, sensing both his owner’s and your own happiness.

When the two of you have to finally pull away once more, Ricky rests his forehead against yours. You've never felt so content than you were now in his arms. You had to refrain from giggling at how Sandra was probably going to react to this when you tell her tomorrow. Why think about that though, when you need to savor the now. Especially when there were three little words that were dancing on the tip of your tongue, desperately wanting to get out.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#killer frequency #killer frequency game #killer frequency x reader #killer frequency game x reader #roller ricky #roller ricky x reader #first fic #x reader #rita writes

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asleep-in-the-keep-sideblog · 7 months

Text

Asleep In The Keep: A DP x BNHA fic

Summary: A tired hero goes to a café (and some other stuff happens)

Word count: 5149

Chapter 20: I Need Some Coffee...

20/?

There was a new person working at Shouta’s favorite coffee place. This wouldn’t be unusual in any other establishment, but the old man who ran it was very particular about who he let in the back.

A few years back, the place was under investigation for possible ties to the black market as well as aiding vigilantes. A customer reported that they saw a well-known local vigilante go through the back entrance of the store, and a few days later, the same one was seen with new gear. There was other circumstantial evidence as well. Background checks revealed that all the baristas were past vigilantes that had already been caught and processed. However, the owner, Tanaka Masaru, a “quirkless” 67 year old, had a clean record, too clean, not even an overdue fine. There was no doubt in Shouta’s mind that the identity was fake. In the end, Shouta wasn’t able to find any concrete evidence on the coffee shop, and since all they had was circumstantial evidence and 1 eye witness, the case fell apart and was closed. The police department did not pursue it after that since there hadn’t been any vigilantes pop up in that area. Well… except for one.

Shouta has been coming here since then, it was on the way to school and they (surprisingly) made really good coffee. The owner was eccentric as well. Sometimes, Shouta could see him in a corner making little figurines and dishes, mumbling and laughing to himself, which ruined the peaceful atmosphere of the shop. Shouta wasn’t mad about it though, more of slightly annoyed whenever it happened. There was a tall shelf covering a wall that was home to the figurines. Most of them were past vigilantes, little animals or regular customers and staff (Shouta even had one up there). The ones on the top were the oldest and most intricately made, while they got less and less detailed as the shelves went down. The store also sold cups and mugs that were in a similar fashion. They were really expensive, but the craftsmanship was worth it (Shouta even had one or two at home).

Recently, a kid posted on social media about the place, and since then it has become a trendy spot with the youths, at least that's what Shouta heard. Fortunately, it was 5 AM and so no kids were even alive yet. Shouta could enjoy the quiet atmosphere while he waited for his coffee. He probably shouldn’t be having any more coffee today since he just finished up a long night’s search. Last night (or earlier this morning if you wanted to be technical), was the first lead he got since he started his investigation. Phantom was a tricky one, and his quirk was great at quick getaways, but he was young and one day he’ll make a mistake. But Shouta doubted it was gonna be today. He may as well listen to his husband and actually catch up on sleep. His schedule was still clear since his kids were still at internships. He heard Midoriya had even gotten out of the hospital a few days ago. Problem child…

Shouta’s fingers tapped impatiently on the table. All fantasies of sleep washed away like soap. He needed coffee. Shouta had entertained the notion of quitting before in the past. He has had so much coffee in his life that he suffers withdraws without it. He has been considering buying patches, but he loves the taste and ritual too much to stop. That’s what he said about smoking too. It first started after Oboro died, a way for Shouta to slow time and try to breathe it in. In the end though, it only made things worse. Now he drinks coffee.

He looked over at the new barista as he made his coffee. His order was simple and always the same; a simple black coffee. Impossible to mess up, but amazing when done right. The kid, whose tag said Tommy , looked to be struggling and Shouta could smell burnt coffee beans from past orders. When the kid checked him out, he gave one look at Shouta before saying that he didn’t have to pay anything. Shouta was shocked to say the least, but he didn’t argue. Free coffee tastes better than bought coffee, that's why he wasn’t worried about the smell. He wondered why the kid didn’t charge him, maybe he just recognized him and was a fan or something (it doesn’t happen a lot, but it does still happen). He severely doubted it.

It wasn’t just the anticipation of getting coffee that made him keep looking at the barista. “Tommy,” what a strange name in Japan. Despite his height and young age, he seemed to carry himself with a sense of steadiness that you only get after experience. Whenever he did seem to slip or mess up, it had seemed intentional, like he was trying to direct your suspicion away from him. The fact he was even working here was cause enough to run a background check. If it had been just those things Shouta would (probably), but of course, there was more.

The final nail in the coffin, and the real reason that Shouta was even studying the boy so intently, was sitting on the table in front of him. The manilla folder that Detective Tsukauchi gave him held the description of a suspicious boy that was seen before the Phantom sighting. Tall & lanky, pale skin, and blue-green eyes, which could describe a lot of the population. Again, if that was the only information provided then Shouta would look away, but then the file listed the most prominent feature of the suspect, black hair with a white stripe. Some minor but still important details were how cold and lifeless the boy was. He apparently had given the other heroes quite the scare. It was obviously the same kid. Whether or not he was also Phantom was left to be determined.

They had no understanding of his powers, except for the general ghost theme, and even that wasn’t consistent. What type of ghost is able to use ice like that? In horror stories the most ghosts could do was drop the temperature a little bit, not form glaciers able to stop explosions. Shouta had his own theories. Perhaps Phantom’s original quirk was a ghost mutation quirk, but AFO overloaded it with so many enhancement quirks (along with some new ones) that it created this tonally confused mess. If that were true, why couldn’t he have also given Phantom some minor shapeshifting quirk?

He looked at the boy again. If he was Phantom, he’d be really dumb. The café is a 15 minute walk from the alley. It will only be a matter of time before the Hero Commission checks here. Shouta rubbed his temples… Not unless he told them otherwise. The Hero Commission had no reason to believe that he would mislead them, except for his affiliation with UA. Fortunately, Principal Nezu had the foresight to set Shouta up as more loyal to the Commission than UA in the years prior. Shouta wasn’t proud of the things he’s done, but he couldn't argue with the results.

Suddenly, he heard a loud shout behind him, and the wet sound of someone spitting on the ground.

“What the hell is this shit?!” A large man with really nice hair in a uniform blasted out. He marched over to the counter that divided him and Tommy, and yelled even louder , “You can’t expect me to drink this garbage?! I paid 1,304¥ for this and I demand a refund!” That's way overpriced, Shouta thought . What idiot buys a cup of coffee for that much?

“I’m sorry dude-” The teen held his hands up in a placating manner. He looked nervous.

“Dude?!” The man had become red, and his hair changed colors and hues to match like a fire.

“Sir!” The kid quickly corrected, “but could you tell me what was wrong with it?” The kid looked down at him, confused. He was tall, maybe 6 '1 while slouching, and easily towered over the Uneri hair spray model. It was like Shouta observed before, the kid was purposely making himself seem less like a threat.

“What’s wrong with it? What isn’t wrong with it?!” His hands started moving like crazy, spilling some of his coffee, “It was scolding hot when I first took a sip of it, it even burned my tongue!” He stuck his tongue out to prove this, it looked fine. He started ranting again, “Then when I took the next sip it was freezing cold! Honestly it was a wonder of science that that even happened-I think this should be donated to science and you with it! Imagine the kind of foreign and new technology that could be discovered?!”

“I’ll give you the refund and make you a new coffee if you like?” he tilted his head, “It will be a little wait since I’m backed up right now…” He looked around the shop which only held the three of them. Truly a master of his craft.

Shouta clenched his fists. He knew the kid could handle it on his own. A bratty customer must’ve been a vacation compared to what the kid had been through before. It was probably better to stay out of it. He didn’t want to cause a scene or alert Tommy to what he was doing and what he knew. He really shouldn’t get involved…

“It’s time for you to stop-” no later than when the final word left his mouth, had the man flung his coffee at the boy. It splattered on the boy leaving him soaked and confused, rage and a green glow in his eyes.

Shouta had a similar reaction. In no quicker than a blink, his capture scarf wrapped around the prick. He pulled it tight, and the man fell down at the ankles, hitting his head on the counter. Good.

By this point the kid had backed deeper behind the counter, staring anxiously at the rope. This is exactly what Shouta didn’t want. Too late now. He pulled the asshole along the ground, careful to make sure he bumped into every chair leg or corner. His hair dragged behind him, sweeping up dust and dirt and getting knotted. His hair was gorgeous, every wave of his head reflected the warm light of the café that gave it the illusion it was changing colors. Deep blues, vibrant reds and crisp yellows that reminded Shouta of his husband, it was honestly a sight to behold. Too bad the guy was such a dick. He yanked harder when they reached the door frame, making sure he hit his head on the door stopper. Shouta released him out of his tape as if he was flapping dirt out of a rug. The dick-bag looked back at Shouta with a rage clear on his face. He started marching towards Shouta, but he thought it was time to show off his own hair. Like a cobra raising it’s hood, Shouta’s hair flowed menacingly at the man below him. He sneered and spit at Shouta, but walked away, grumbling to himself.

Shouta let his hair back down and sighed. He was no longer angry, just tired. He turned back into the coffee shop and sat at his original table. Luckily the folder was still there. Shouta had to be more aware next time. Tommy, now recovered from the display, walked over to hand Shouta his coffee. The kid looked awkward and suspicious all at the same time.

“Thank you…for that…” Tommy was looking away and gave Shouta a short bow. Clearly he wasn’t used to it. That could be because he was isolated from a young age and so never had to learn proper manners. Shouta was 92% sure the kid in front of him was Phantom.

“Anytime kid.” Shouta nodded at him, and he went back behind the counter. He must’ve felt Shouta’s eyes still on him since he grabbed a random cup and pretended to start cleaning it, still looking back and forth at him. Shouta turned his gaze down. This is the kid that freaked out Mount Lady and Kamui Woods? Shouta almost laughed.

No. Although he may seem like a kid, he was still an unknown. Of course he wanted him to join UA and get a chance at a life he clearly never had, but Shouta had to be ready for the very real possibility that he could still side with All For One. He couldn’t let himself get attached.

Still-Shouta was glad the kid was alright, customers can be such assholes sometimes. And despite the turn of events, Phantom didn’t seem to distrust him. He could use that. He was already a regular but now he had to be extra aware to come in when he was on shift. He really wanted Phantom to go to UA, not just for the Principle.

He took a sip of his coffee and then immediately almost spit it out. Phantom’s head whipped towards him, but he was able to get it down and smiled (although it probably looked more like a grimace). Only after the boy turned around again did Shouta unclench his jaw. How do you mess up black coffee that bad? It was thick like tar and had an overwhelming burnt taste, Shouta would rather drink liquified coal.

Shouta looked up to the heavens trying to summon however much strength it would take to finish it. That strength came in a little flask he kept on him (for the hard days), and he poured some of its contents inside. He took another swig and was almost able to convince himself the sharpness came from the whiskey. After he was done, he walked up the bin to put the dishes in and laid it down like a body into a grave. The cup didn’t deserve that…He nodded towards Phantom, Phantom nodded back, and left the café.

Maybe he should switch to patches.

Zzz

After he left the café, Shouta went back to UA. He had already messaged Principle Nezu about his encounter with the suspected Phantom. The maniac responded instantly and said that he would be waiting for him at his desk. Shouta always had the theory that Nezu lived there, in his office or some hidden room in the school, maybe both.

Luckily, the school was only a 5 minute walk from the café. Phantom was really considerate of Shouta’s routine, he now didn’t have to waste 5 hours a day scouring the city for him. Maybe Phantom wanted to go to UA and that’s why he was so close, Shouta laughed to himself sleepily. The coffee from before didn’t help at all. Another thought bubbled to the surface. Or maybe he was stalking the school. It was important to see both sides. The reason Shouta chose not to believe it was stupidity. An old but still meaningful quote rang in his ears, "Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity" And the kid was also working at a coffee shop that was a short walk from his crime scene. If he did join UA, Shouta would have to teach him to be better aware of his surroundings. He smiled at the thought.

He made it through the building without any hassle. Some teachers liked to be there early even without the kids there. If Shouta wasn’t mistaken, they still had 2, no wait it’s a new day, 1 more day of internships left, then tomorrow to recover. Shouta would never admit it out loud, but he had started to miss the little shits, even Kaminari and Midoriya. He was about ready to expel them both for their stupidity. Midoriya because he’s always breaking something and Kaminari because just last week, he had to send him to the nurse’s office for stuffing hot sauce packets up his nose. Again. He hadn’t even used his quirk that day. Shouta was half convinced that the boy just used his quirk as an excuse. He’s been wanting to talk to his parents about making him wear a rubber helmet so he doesn’t fry the last few brain cells he has left. Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose at the prospect…

He passed by Power Loader’s workshop. The door was cracked open a little, letting smoke waft into the hallway. Students liked to blame Mei for all the accidents in that room, but Power Loader still has his mishaps. He says that mistakes lead to innovation, maybe that’s why Mei was so unrestrained in her learning. Power Loader was sitting at his work bench behind a fan drinking coffee. It was one of the rare occasions Shouta got to see more of his face. Even in work meetings he had something covering it, either his hair or a helmet. They nodded to each other, and Shouta went on his way. He had never been close with the man, seeing him more as a co-worker he was friendly with rather than an acquaintance, but the lure of coffee was tempting. He couldn't of course since he had news for Principle Nezu.

None of the other faculty members stopped him. Like with Power Loader, Shouta was pleasant with them but had no more than a working relationship with anyone in the office, except of course his husband and Nemuri, who he couldn’t escape from.

Although Yagi has been trying to get closer to him for some reason, he even brought him lunch one time. Shouta thinks it’s so he can get more information about Midoriya. He would be stupid not to notice the connection between them. Their ‘secret meetings’ weren’t so secret with Yagi shouting everything. Fortunately, he was able to lead any perked ears away from their conversations. He was pretty sure Midoriya was the next user (but he wasn’t supposed to let Yagi know he knew that). Before the pair had started at the school, Principle Nezu had informed Shouta of Yagi’s condition. He didn’t tell Shouta anything about the boy though, so it was either Nezu himself didn’t know or it had yet to happen.

Shouta was pretty sure some of Midoriya’s classmates had also noticed the connection, Bakugo and Todoroki being the main ones. Todoroki fortunately interrupted it as Yagi being Midoriya’s father, which was its own can of worms, but easy to sort out. Bakugo on the other hand seems to suspect the actual connection between the two. He was a smart kid, way smarter than people gave him credit for (Shouta just wished he used those brain cells to read a self-help book). He has recommended therapy or counseling to his parents before, but his mom seemed offended that Shouta brought anything up in the first place. Shouta would just have to help guide him like he has been doing.

He walked past one of the teachers' offices and a familiar face caught his eye. It was Nemuri. She was hunched over a stack of papers, probably old assignments from students that she forgot to grade. Today was one of the last days before the students returned and would be expecting those grades. She wasn’t the best at balancing hero work with being a teacher, but the students loved her. She scowled at the pile through her glasses.

Shouta walked faster, but he was too late. A pair of arms pulled around him from the back and wouldn’t let go.

“Shouta!!!!” She squeezed tighter around him and wiggled. Shouta grabbed her arms in an awkward hug and patted them. She let go after a moment and Shouta turned to face her. “How’ve you been? You haven’t been answering any of my texts, I mean, you usually don’t but you at least text back one word after a few days.” she teased.

Nemuri had always been a lifeline to Shouta. She pulled him out of the darkness more times than he could count. Early in Shouta’s hero career, he failed to save someone for the first time. He locked himself in his room and kept going over what happened, trying to find some way he could have saved them. He also kept thinking of Oboro, which only made things worse. He had stopped eating and not even Hizashi could pull him out of it. One day, Nemuri kicked down the door and dragged him out by his scarf. She, with the help of Hizashi, washed him up and untangled his hair. Shouta just broke down crying in the shower, wet and covered in suds. She just held him as he cried like a child. After he got washed up, she got him his favorite food and they all just sat in comfortable silence. She also convinced him to start therapy and even recommended someone. Shouta could safely say he might not be here without it.

“I’ve been doing patrols, as usual,” he responded simply. Nemuri laughed and elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh come on! I’ve heard you’ve been training that kid from class 1-C, What was his name?” she put her finger on her chin in a dramatic pose.

“Shinso Hitoshi” Shouta walked into the office to find the coffee pot and she followed after him.

“Ah that’s right! He was the one who had the mind control quirk right? He lost to Midoriya in the 3rd round.”

“Brainwashing actually, and yes. He has a lot of potential and I think he would fit in 1-A, plus we have the same for it,” Shouta still has no idea how that one kid got into UA in the first place. Shouta expelled him the first day when he tried to peek into the girl’s locker room. That behavior was not appropriate for a hero and if he did manage to succeed, he would use his power to control women, and Shouta didn’t want that on his conscience. “I just have to find the right time to introduce him. The sooner the better before the gap is too wide, I can only do so much on our one on one time. I thought after the internships would be a good place, but then the testing got rescheduled and I don’t want to throw him into the deep end on his first day…” Shouta was thinking aloud to himself. This is a topic that has been cycling through his head for several days.

“That and I hear that your classroom is gonna get a major change soon” she winked. Of course she knew. When Shouta didn’t answer her, she continued, “Does it have something to do with your secret project with Principle Nezu?” Shouta signed.

He grabbed one of the cups by the coffee machine and poured some in. It was a green liquid and it smelled sweet. He looked over at Nemuri and she shrugged.

“I drink tea over coffee, you know this.” Shouta groaned and handed her the cup. “How generous, thank you” and she took a sip.

“I have to go talk to Principle Nezu…” He mumbled and stalked out of the office.

“Make sure to keep me updated on your class! ‘Zashi can only tell me so much!” She called after him.

Zzz

Without any more distractions keeping him, Shouta finally made it to Principle Nezu’s office. Nezu sat at his desk with his signature smile and his hands folded on the table. He was stock still, like a stuffed animal, but Shouta had gotten used to how the Principle acts to pay it much mind.

“Ah, good morning, Mr. Aizawa.” He greeted.

“Good morning, Principle Nezu” Shouta didn’t sit down, instead making his way to the coffee machine by the wall. There was a fresh cup waiting for him. He took it and eyed Nezu, who still smiled, then he sat down in front of him. “Sorry it took so long, I got distracted on the way here.”

“No worries at all. I never said a time to meet, just simply that I’ll be in my office.” Empty words. They both know the sooner the better for this kind of thing.

Shouta took a sip and gagged, decaf. It was still better than nothing. He took a seat across from Nezu and placed the coffee on the table and reached into his pocket, grabbing the manilla folder and the small baggie with the dirt he collected from the scene. Nezu took them both gently with his stubby arms.

“Detective Tsukauchi has already delivered me the folder, but this,” He held up the bag, “I had no clue of.” Shouta took a sip of his coffee, too ashamed to have kept the info from him, even if it slipped his mind.

“I collected it from the scene. It was in a dent away from the fight. It looked fresh. According to the report, Phantom was hovering over it before they attacked him.” Shouta’s fist clenched at the reminder. He wished he had found the boy first.

“And the bag itself?” Principle Nezu asked.

“I didn’t have anything else on me.”

“Very well. I shall run it through our lab to see what comes up. I can follow your line of logic in thinking that this could’ve had possible significance to Phantom, but it’s best to remain critical.” Shouta nodded.

“Of course. Now to move on to the other matter…” Principle Nezu’s back straighten even more, if that were possible, “After I completed my patrols for the night, “Nezu didn’t correct him that it was now morning, “I went to my usual coffee place where I saw a teen who looked a lot like the description of the boy from page 45, the one who ran into the heroes before the altercation.”

Nezu Hummed, “So you think this boy is Phantom?” It was rhetorical but Shouta still answered.

“I do. The way he moved and acted was also suspicious. It was clear that his clumsiness was intentional, and during an altercation between a customer-”

“He fought a customer?” Nezu questioned, his eyebrow quirked.

“No, I fought a customer.” Shouta stated. “He was being rude to Tommy, the name of the barista and suspect, and then splashed coffee on his face, at which point I intervened.”

“You seem more tired than usual, Mr. Aizawa”

“I wasn’t able to enjoy any coffee.” He took another drink of the miserable cup in front of him.

“Of course, whatever it takes to get you through the day,” Nezu teased. He had also tried to convince Shouta to stop drinking coffee so much. “Can you tell me anything about the interaction between you and ‘Tommy’”

“Our conversation at the start was quick, just me ordering a coffee,” Shouta thought for a moment, “although it was strange, he didn’t charge me for the cup.”

“Perhaps he recognized you? Or maybe he already feels a connection with you.” Nezu let out a small laugh.

“Doubtful. If he was truly raised by All For One, I would imagine him to be more disdainful or at least distrustful of heroes, especially after what happened last night. Although perhaps he also looks up to the heroes because of his father. He is a vigilante after all.” Shouta hasn’t had the time to think too deeply about what that could mean, but the more he did, the less he liked.

“Who knows,” Nezu definitely knew something and was hiding it. He would tell Shouta if it became important enough.

“I digress, shortly after I sat down the customer started harassing Phantom. At first it was just yelling and general insults, but I stepped in when it got physical. I dragged him outside and kicked him out.” Nezu nodded, “However, after the man spilled his coffee on Tommy, I noticed the boy’s eyes glow green, not unlike what it detailed in the reports with Phantom. That’s when I was convinced they were one in the same. Of course, there is always the possibility that the two are separate, but I do not think this is the case.”

“I would have come to the same conclusion myself.” Nezu agreed.

“After the altercation, Phantom handed me my coffee and thanked me. He seemed awkward about the exchange, though. I left shortly after and came here.”

“Thank you for your report, Mr. Aizawa. I hope I’m not asking you too much if you could write this all out for me with any other details you can remember. Even the most minor thing could be important.”

“Consider it done.” Sensing the meeting was over, Shouta stood up to leave. “I just have one question Principle Nezu.”

“And what's that?” His eyes gleamed.

“How many quirks does Phantom have?” The Nomu’s were no longer human after just 3, and this kid has displayed far more than that. They could be on a timer to save the boy before he was lost forever in himself.

“I do not know.” Nezu stated. Ice spread through Shouta and a weight settled in his gut. Even the principle doesn’t know? Shouta’s hands clenched into fists again. As much as he wanted to save the kid, he had to remember he was an unknown. He couldn’t let his emotions get in the way with that.

“You should probably get some rest, Mr. Aizawa. We both have a long few days ahead of us.” and with that, the meeting was officially over.

Shouta slowly walked out of the room trying to process the whole conversation. The Principle had clear faith that Phantom would indeed join UA, and so Shouta just had to trust him until proven otherwise. He hoped to whatever god that becomes a reality, for both Phantom’s and his sake. Until then, he would do his best to build his trust and extend a hand to the boy. It was his choice whether he would take it or not.

One thing was for certain, he would try to save the boy until he begged him to stop, even then he might push.

When Shouta got home, the house was empty. Hizashi was still at the studio for the morning radio. He was kind of relieved he was gone. He wasn’t ready to talk about the day he had yet. Still so many unorganized thoughts in his head. He collapsed onto the bed, not bothering to change his clothes or taking off his shoes; it was laundry day tomorrow after all, or was it today? Time had lost all meaning to Shouta a long time ago. He closed his eyes and thought about Phantom again. He will save him, even if he loses an arm in the process.

He closed his eyes and thought about Phantom again. He will save him, even if he loses an arm in the process.

“Damn it” he cursed into the still air.

He got attached.

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gamergirljournalist · 7 months

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From Biting Apples to Embracing Galaxies: My Switch to Samsung

For more than a decade, I've always been using the Apple eco-system. My first modern phone was the iPhone 5 in 2012 and it lasted for a couple of years until I upgraded to the iPhone 10 in 2017 after convincing my father that my phone was dying.

The proof: this photo of my phone bricking every 20 minutes when installing a new iOS when I was in university.

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As time passed, the iPhone X has survived numerous trips overseas, journalism jobs, freelancing gigs, concerts, and dating attempts. But like all tech devices, this one is about to reach its end after an incident where it wouldn't turn on properly when it was being charged.

I had two options: wait for the iPhone 15 to come out or move to Samsung. And based on the article, it's quite obvious what happened next.

One last bite of the Apple - why I love the iPhone

Moving to a Galaxy device has to be the hardest decision I've ever made. My original plan was to save $2000 for a brand new Apple product because the Apple ecosystem is pretty good. I can copy a link or photo on my phone and paste it on my Macbook. Airdrop is pretty convenient. Also, my entire family became Apple snobs ever since the release of Airpods. Also, since I moved out from home, Facetime became the most used method of communication between family members because it was instant.

Another cool feature that the iPhone has is that is very easy to customize. From having an Animal Crossing dark mode theme phone to selecting a case, the choices are ripe for the picking.

Lastly, it's just very easy to use. Unless you're planning to do some complicated stuff like jailbreaking, using an iPhone as an everyday device is very simple. Left it somewhere? Use the "Find my phone" app and annoy the heck out of those who try to steal it. Want music? Drop the file into iTunes and it will sync via iCloud. It's that versatile.

But as my phone was quickly on its final breath, as well as the cost of living crisis, waiting for the iPhone 15 was no longer a valid option anymore. So I had to say goodbye to these nifty features and swap to Samsung.

What it was like making the switch

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I bought the Samsung zFlip 4 during the End of the Financial Year sale, without realising that the zFlip 5 would be released 2 months later. Big oof. The reason I got this phone is because the 512 GB model cost $1300 AUD. The case was $10 from Telstra. I got a cuter one for $100 from Caseify.

If I were to buy the iPhone 15 (or in my case, the iPhone 14 Pro), the 512 GB model would have cost me $2400 + the cost of a case and the cable for the highest speeds. In case you were unaware, the 15 models only come with USB 2 speeds. WTF?! Also, there are the MagSafe accessories like chargers, which would cost even more.

The reason I chose to get the Samsung zFlip 4 is mostly because it's a flip phone and Samsung marketed it as "bending the laws of physics." Another reason is because of BTS. As a BTS fan, mostly a Suga stan, I learned that the K-Pop star will not hold Apple devices. I remember seeing a TikTok where a fan disguised her iPhone to look like a Samsung and the rapper was shocked until he held it on stage.

I was, however, warned about getting this Samsung model from my aunt. She told me that the battery life is bad and that Apple lasts longer. And she only uses her phone for the most basic usage - calls, text, and Facebook. But based on my experience, the battery isn't that bad… unless I use it for Pokemon Sleep.

Transferring my data from an Apple to a Samsung device is easier said than done. For starters, it nearly took a whole day for the transfer process to be completed. Second, I needed to use a wireless charger for one of my devices because it took so long.

When it came to the user interface, while it's somewhat different, some similarities made using my new phone not that difficult. It perhaps took a week to get used to the new functions and gestures.

I also liked the new camera. It's much more vibrant in my opinion. Much better than the iPhone X if I'm being honest. And there were times I did try filming like it was an old camcorder due to its flip functionalities.

If I have a complaint, it's that my game saves (except for Pokemon Go and Sleep) aren't transferable. This means all that effort I've placed in Tiny Tower for a year and a bit is gone and I would need to start over because the game is synced to Apple's Game Center. However, all of my texts since my senior year of high school made their way to the new device. WTF?

Also, not all the apps transferred to the new device, which makes sense since some of them were discontinued. But finding the APKs for them became a challenge, especially for a photo editor that I've been using for years. Thanks to the subscription model, it's been removed from the app stores.

Final Thoughts

Swapping to Samsung was probably a good decision to make. For starters, I'm no longer bombarded by my family's group chat messages since I no longer live with them. Second, I can text my boyfriend photos through NORMAL TEXT, not Facebook and discord. The amount of memes I've missed during the earlier parts of our relationship due to device differences was a massive pain and now it's all convenient.

While it's a shame I no longer have access to Siri, adding songs to a Samsung device is much easier compared to Apple since it is basically like a hard drive.

I will miss the Apple ecosystem though. iCloud and Apple Notes are super handy. Airdrop is pretty cool. And the new iOS features in the latest system look super appealing. However, these features are something that I would rarely use. I just need a phone to play games, go on social media, take photos and videos, and make phone calls. I won't be making 3D models of my room.

Looking forward to spending the next 5 years with this Samsung device until I have to make the switch once more.

#long post #2023 #apple #samsung #technology #review #z flip 4

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richardsphere · 2 months

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Leverage Log: The San Lorenzo Job

OK, we're really switching to season-long setups now with the return of Manticore as a Plot-point. Not really a fan, I personally like shows where stuff can actually stand on its own to stay that way. It feels unfair to suddenly rely on the audience to start taking notes from previous episodes when you've trained them not to.

So now we know that there are 3 things to be stolen this episode: The Election/The Country itself (stuff the ballot boxes or hack the machines, possibly a Sophie Thing, grifting not a Person but a Country entirely), His Backup Gold and Diamonds (Big Parker Moment?) and the Manticore Servers (cause Leverage Consulting is not stupid enough to let that thing go out on the open market a second time. They learn from their mistakes. )

I guess there's a small chance they don't steal Manticore? In that they could also say "the servers will go on the open market after Moreau's take-down, and we'll just buy it with the money we steal from him" like he bought it after they stole it from Duberman, But that doesn't feel like how the Leverage Crew operates.

----

The Italian makes another appearance, "Damian Moreau will never leave San Lorenzo". Clearly a case of Exact Words 101, So of I'm right they're gonna turn his Shelter from extradition into his prison.

---

OK the heroes have all touched all the TV's in the electoral command center, which means they're now all Hardison-ed. Compromised, don't trust anything a TV shows in this episode.

---

So they're compromised (definitely not intentionally no-no this show would never make the bad guy think he knew what was going on to make the bad guy overconfident. They'd never do that /s)

But are you telling me Hardison hadnt hacked the stuff yet? Thats like the first thing he does? Normally... Normally its the first thing he does, i forgot about Manticore didnt I.

---

"How is a campaing promise different then a lie", come-on writers, tell us how you really feel!

----

What scandal could be worse then Sex or Corruption? Animal Cruelty, Puppies... You can tell the writers loved coming up with this as a plot.

Love the way that their chosen stooge absolutely despises them. Like Nate is not a nice guy and this is a genuinely good person forced to work with Nate at his sober-est.

---

The way that Sophie tells the poor guy exactly how she's gonna manipulate him with the handshake, then proceeds to do it.

---

And the team is back at what they do best biochemical warfare, Nothing these guys cant accomplish by drugging the heck out of some people.

--- Oh jackbooted thugs with face concealing masks, in a show where the heroes are always disguising themselves as anyone and everything, shoot Shophie on camera? Yeah that was the plan, make it look like democracy is falling apart to get them in trouble with the UN watchdogs. Tell the Current President he can simply frame Moreau to clean his own hands... give him a nice retirement package... I can see Nate's angle.

---

So yeah, play your enemies against eachother, steal an election, Sophie's face is going to be on the money now. Sophie grifting so hard she makes a president feels like a good enough Big Sophie Moment. So they didnt steal Manticore, just imprisoned the owner and then had it become a San Lorenzo Government Property (which is now an actual democracy).

No big parker moment... kind of sad, but having Parker steal all his gold off-screen feels like the most Parker way to steal. the simple "yeah she's good enough we dont even need to show the audience" is Parker enough for Parker. even if the 2-part finale didnt give her a "moment" the finale didnt need it.

#leverage season 3 #leverage

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thosequiethours · 2 years

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Extended Author's Note, 3rd edition

Oh my god, it has been a long time since the last one! Uh...hello?

In this one, I wanted to talk about deleted scenes. Every writer wrote stuff that they decided didn't make sense with the story.

So, what didn't make the cut in Those Quiet Hours?

Between the end of the first case (The Haunted Store) and the beginning of the second one (Nightmare Hotel), there were supposed to be two chapters for Takao's training and Max would play a huge role in it!

Wait, what? What would Max do? I spoke about the influence Ghost Hunt by Fuyumi Ono had on me in writing this story and there's this character:

John Brown, a 19-year-old Australian catholic priest. And I thought, hm, I also have a blonde baby-faced boy who speaks a bit funky in canon. Come here Max, you're a catholic exorcist now!

He would intervene in these two chapters to teach Takao basic ghost hunting stuff and he would contextualise a lot of things.

Why didn't it make the cut, you might ask?

I think this character would be cool but it would have been a shame to introduce him just so he would disappear in the latest chapters. Also, the first three chapters to my story are already a big ass intro to the ghost hunting world, I didn't want the story to drag.

Okay. I know you're curious. So here's a little bit of what I wrote (under the cut).

The phone ring was muffled by the closed door at Hiwatari's office. It was impossible to tell who he was speaking to or what he was saying. But whatever that phone call contained, it finally pushed him out of his messy den to address me without any snark.

"Kinomiya, you’ll be undergoing some training for the next case." It was all so sudden that I almost got whiplash from the switch between boredom and urgency.

I stared at him, puzzled. There was a slight shadow of irritation in his eyes when he stared back at my apparent dumbness.

“Training for what? Professional paperwork guy?” I had to admit. Aside from transcribing, writing and compiling paperwork I had no idea what I was doing there. Hiwatari looked as if he had to do some internal gymnastics not to come at me with his usual snide. The guy was using all his energy to be nice for once. I had to admit, I wanted to push him a little over the edge. After all, I still hadn’t forgotten what transpired a week ago.

“This new case has much higher stakes than your convenience store trapped girl. ” Hiwatari replied. “You’ll need to behave professionally and to know what you should be looking for.”

“And using me as bait is in the professional paranormal investigator books?” I wanted it to come out as friendly banter but I was still sore from what happened. My voice shook with animosity.

There was a flash of that same heated energy on his eyes, but he closed them slowly before continuing. Heh, gotcha. “It’s for your own safety.” He was trying his best not to spit sarcasm on me, but he definitely wouldn’t be able to keep it on him. “Don’t forget you’re my employee and required to abide by any training I deem necessary to you.”

Yea, there it was. The impulse of having my fist against his perfect know-it-all face. “Are mediums rare in the market or something? Why hire an untrained guy for the job?”

“There’s a lot of people who claim to be mediums out there. I don’t want to waste time with those.” He explained, to my surprise. “Although you’re very inexperienced, you have quite a vivid perception of ghosts.”

It was odd receiving an almost-compliment from him. It took me a bit to process while I stared at him with a stupid expression. I managed to shake myself out of it quickly. “So how will this training go?”

“I was contacted by an old friend.” He said. “I usually don’t take these simple jobs, so it’s all yours.”

A chill went down my spine.

---

The man standing in front of the house didn’t look at all like I expected him to. He looked young, maybe even younger than me. He looked almost like a renaissance painting, with his golden curls sitting in the perfect state of purposefully messy the angels in those paintings. What threw me off the most was his catholic priest attire. A huge golden cross gleamed on his chest. His huge blue eyes scanned me up and down, maybe thinking that I was young and odd too.

I haven’t met many priests before, but in my mind, they were probably older than the baby-faced blonde in front of me.

“So you’re Kogorou’s Daitenji recommendation, Max Mizuhara.” Hiwatari started the conversation, to my surprise. He even extended his hand for a brief handshake.

“Just call me Max. I’m an apprentice exorcist, so he connected the dots on having me here with your…” he searched his words while looking at me. Max had a thick American accent coming through. “...trainee.”

Hiwatari nodded lightly to acknowledge what the priest said.

“I head a lot about you, Kai Hiwatari.” the blonde continued. “You could say I am a fan”

We were standing in front of our next case site. It was an ordinary family home, it didn’t even look particularly old as most haunted sites are. But as I came to learn that even your local convenience store may be home to some ghosts, I didn’t doubt the presence of some unsavoury ghouls in there. The windy night added an eerie sensation to the neighbourhood and the cold was unwelcome.

“Thank you for taking him in.” Hiwatari bowed politely. He turned around to leave. I grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

“Wait, you’re not staying?” I asked. How did he expect me to handle a haunted place by myself?

“I am busy with something else at the moment.” He replied, continuing his way to the car. I wondered what an evening for Hiwatari looked like since he was totally the workaholic type. He probably continued whatever he did while he was locked inside his office.

I looked at Max awkwardly.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” He boasted, winking at me. “Got your equipment ready?”

I lifted the strap from the very heavy backpack, the electronic equipment inside clacking against each other. I gulped. “As ready as one can be.”

---

My hands were shaky, but I tried hard to not let my fear show through. I had just finished installing the last camera in the master bedroom. Mizuhara’s attentive eyes watched me with little commentary. “Ok, all cameras are correctly positioned.” I stated, taking a few steps back to contemplate the room.

Most of the house was either empty or had very little furniture since the owners planned on selling it. However, many of the potential buyers reported some odd encounters in the house. They would hear footsteps in the attic, objects would fall mysteriously, they would trip on the air and the worst ones: someone got pushed down the stairs by something they couldn’t see. Just the thought of it made me shiver.

“You look very tense.” Max observed.

After my last ghost hunting experience, I was surely uneasy about how a case usually unfolds. While Hiromi wasn’t dangerous, the spirits in this house seemed to be quite unfriendly. And I knew, as a medium, that they could do much worse to people who could see them.

“I just don’t like interacting with ghosts.” I answered, sparing him of any details of what truly happened last time. And since Max seemed to admire Hiwatari, I wasn’t about to crush his impression of him.

His eyes were directed at my trembling hands. “How odd for a medium.”

Max’s bright blue eyes kept staring at me with curiosity. I think I was the next best after Hiwatari and he was indeed eager to know more about the newbie my boss hired.

I shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly my intention to work professionally with ghosts.”

“Oh?” His eyes opened wide as if he just struck gold. Shit, me and my big mouth.

I answered before even thinking if this was information I should be sharing. Something in his demeanour just eased me into talking. “Well, you see, I owe Hiwatari a favour.”

“Oh, that’s fascinating.” He said, his hands clasping together while his eyes shone. “You would think it’d be every medium’s dream to work for a famous investigator like him.”

Wait, what? “He’s famous?”

“You didn’t know? He’s a total celebrity in the paranormal investigation field.”

Okay, that was unexpected. How does a guy like Hiwatari, full of shady methods to solve his cases, get to celebrity status? “My previous jobs were all retail. I’m not necessarily informed on this line of uh… business.”

“He has been on TV and everything” Max kept going. “A few years ago, he solved this disappearance that happened in the eighties, it was a cold case. The media was all over it.”

Whoa, I had no idea.

“Since then, the chief of police seems to want to keep him close. I guess he owes him a big favour too since he was directly responsible for his promotion.” He said, seeming way too eager to share all the details. Max was apparently Hiwatari’s biggest fanboy. “He’s the one who contacted put us in contact, Mr Daitenji.”

I was glad that the priest was as talkative as he was. First, to fill in the silence that could be a space for ghostly whispers, and second, to get a better insight into who Hiwatari was. My boss wasn’t the most talkative person on earth, so there was no way that I could have learned those facts directly from him.

“Can we start now? I just want to get this over with.” I finally said, dreading my next tasks.

“Of course. Run me through your plan.”

I had skimmed through the notes that Hiwatari gave me about how to conduct a proper investigation earlier, so I tried my best to pull from my memory what I had to do. “So, cameras have been installed in the reported active areas. This room, the kitchen and… one pointed to the door to the attic. I also installed temperature detectors to look for any temperature changes.”

I didn’t want to think about the attic and whatever was walking around in there, but my mind started giving me glimpses of what horrible spirit could be living there. I didn’t feel nauseous, which meant no ghosts were manifesting themselves yet, but I felt observed.

“We’ll check the attic as the last step since we still don’t know the nature of what we are dealing with.” I pointed out. Mizuhara nodded in agreement with my strategy.

“And what equipment are you carrying with you?”

I pointed at the small camera secured to my chest. “This camera and I have a voice recorder to capture the… Voices-thing?”

“You mean the EVPs, electronic voice phenomenons.” He corrected me, gently. What a relief that Hiwatari wasn’t there, I could feel him rolling his eyes at me even if he wasn’t there. “Well, I also have something of my own that might be useful.”

He showed me what looked like a small radio with a microphone attached to it. “What is this?”

“It’s called a ghost box. It scans through radio frequencies rapidly and allows spirits to manipulate the sound to communicate with us.” He explained as he pressed the power button.

The loud sound of radio static invaded the room and I jumped, startled. What in the world was this? I swear that the sound alone was capable of freaking anyone out. “Uhm, why do I need this if I can already see them?” I said as he pressed the off button to end the auditory torture.

“I’m not a medium, so I have to rely on this to communicate with those poor souls.” He pointed out.

Now we had to move on to the real deal. My first official ghost hunt.

My palms were sweaty as I pressed the record button on the voice recorder and made sure that the camera attached to me was on.

“I’m reaching out to whoever is in this house.” I said, with a wavering voice. “My name is Takao Kinomiya, can you say my name back to me?”

Complete silence.

We waited for a few minutes before I had to change strategy. Max turned on the dreaded ghost box. The initial loud sound cemented on me that I hated the ghost box.

“Hello, reaching out again. Is there anyone here with us?”

The ghost box kept skipping loudly through the channels. But then a very clear sound came out of it.

“Yes.” The sound was broken into two different radio voices. I wasn’t sure whether I should take it as evidence or not. I pressed on.

“My name is Takao, can you repeat it for me?”

There was a pause before the radio voice said it back to me. “Ta…kao…”

I exchanged looks with Mizuhara, who had a very stern expression on his face. “Could you tell me your name?”

“Get… out…” it answered in a guttural voice. I was completely frightened, but the evaluating look coming from the priest kept me from sprinting out of the house.

“We’re not here to harm you.” And how would I know if it didn’t want to harm me? I wanted to just leave whatever was in there locked inside the house, but I knew I had a job to do. “We will leave if you talk to us. Could you tell me your name?”

“Tenmaru.” the radio voices said my name, sounding nothing like the threatening “Get out” from moments ago.

“Tenmaru… Is there anyone else in this house?”

“Big brother…” it answered on the radio. But I also heard a voice coming from the ceiling. “Stop. He will hear us.”

“Did you hear this?” I asked, pointing up. He shook his head. Cool. I spoke to the radio again. “Where are you right now?”

“Get out.” and with that, the loud sound of the radio static came back. I guess the ghosts didn’t feel like making my day easier. Max turned off the loud ghost box.

I didn’t exactly know how to proceed from there. The ghost didn’t necessarily feel friendly. “How do I proceed from here?” I asked.

“Well, you’re the medium. Aside from what they said, what else do you perceive?” Max asked me, with a patient smile on his face. My main focus had been the voice on the radio. But maybe if I focused enough I could get more information.

“The voice I heard seemed to come from the ceiling, which tells me they might be in the attic. But it’s hard with ghosts, the sound is not exactly… Directional” I told the priest. I closed my eyes for a bit, trying to focus on how the room felt.

For a while, it was just that, silence in an empty room. As I tried to dive more and more into this state of immersion, I started to perceive little details. Mizuhara’s breathing, the light rain starting to hit the windows, the vibrations in the air…

I chased them with my mind. There was an energy in the house. I focused on the attic. It’s weird, I could tell that there were three people in there. One was small and non-threatening, the other one was a lot more emotional and aggressive, its energy encompassing the smaller one. And there was something else…

“I think Tenmaru is a child.” I finally said, words spilling out of my mouth before I even thought about them. “His brother is trying to protect him. And there’s a third one.”

“Can you tell what it is?”

“I just feel a very strong negative emotion when I try to focus on it.” I hesitated before saying the next words. “I think we need to see the attic.”

#thosequiethours #beyblade fanfiction #ghost hunting au

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sentofight · 1 year

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"Happy birthday", and thus a small, white box is handed to him. There's no bow nor any wrapping, only his name neatly written in the middle and a small and simple smiling cat next to it. Akira regrets it, somewhat, because opening a present was a joy in itself, but they had finally opted for just giving the box as it was, careful not to step on any toes, be it King's or the Akademeia's. Inside is an assortment of cookies of varying sizes and flavors, chosen from markets here and there. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, but I hope there's something you find tasty in there", they continue to explain, having made sure there'd be enough for both him and his friends if he so desire, and if not, to last a little while as a comforting snack. (makes stuff up like my life depends on it

the only birthday wish lmao thanks | @flovverworks

When Class Zero came into the magic Academy, it was no secret that they had admirers left and right but eventually, they had more haters than fans in the recent days. It was honestly, business as usual. Since they were in the laboratory, they were under the constant scrutinizing looks from others. Little who seemed to be genuinely interested in them as ...well, humans. There were times which it was confusing to the gunman how come they are treated like this but then again would simply trust in the process and in ... Mother. Her words are always right. There is no need to doubt what she says especially when after everything said and done, they are special kids.

They are not controlled by the Crystal.

Their fates are ... in their hands ... (?)

Maybe.

Either way, whether they gained new allies or not in this institution, it didn’t affect their game plan. It was them, only the twelve of them from the beginning and they will only need each other in the end.

So, for a day like his birthday, King did not expect anything at all. Especially, him out of the class, he was not really that ... popular. Not that he was looking to be popular to be honest. The less attention on him, the better. Not sure why this mentality is stuck with him more than the others in his class, but he really prefers to have low profile whenever they are.

That’s why when he got this out of the blue gift and from another guy, it made something internally suspect a foul play. Rule number one, never show your true emotions.

King was not very familiar with this ..Akira person. Seems like he started to hit with some of his siblings but he’s not sure about the other. Perhaps he ought to make some research on him.

Taking the box from the other, he does not open it up but simply examine the corners and the sides of the box in a quick scan motion to not alert the young man. Little could he know that it could be poisoned. Unlikely the case but it never harms to be careful.

“You didn’t have to,” his voice was flat out, deprived of any real and tangible ‘human’ feelings. He meant it to be like that, might the other catch on how unnecessary that was. King knew their movements are being watched so simply tossing it back to Akira would raise question marks at him. He will dispose of this when no one is looking but for now, he might as well as act ...’friendly’ as possible.

A gentle shake of the box could give him the idea of some sort of confetti in the box and by Akira’s words, they are plenty for him and the other zeroes. Possible mass attack on the whole class in the guise of ‘snacks’? Could be.

In all his seriousness to decipher what kind of attack this is on him and his siblings, his veteran senses did not pick any kind of malice from the other. Usually, whenever he passed by some of the cadets, the malice and hatred reek like a foul odor in the air. He could sense it in his bones but Akira ...

....

What is he?

The only thing he could actually get from his talk and body language is ... peace.

Peace?

Even Cinque who others might see her as an airhead has a dangerous aura to her. But for Akira here it’s.... it’s like almost it does not exists. How can a guy like him be in Akademeia? How did he survive this long with that kind of attitude? This place really is testing his ability to discern who is hiding his true self, isn’t it?

He recalls something Mother had told him once ... something about how humans are strange creatures; you think you understood them, you get surprised by these ‘extraordinary’ types.

Maybe he is ... analyzing too much into his motives of giving him a gift, yes? Maybe Akira is just a nice guy like he is posing to be. There is no catch in here. Maybe, or maybe not.

“Thanks,” he said before he turned around to walk away from the other. Once he was in a hidden corner, he opened the box to see the cookies. Well, damn they are cookies indeed. How to check if they are good or not ...

“Hey, Cinque,” as he pushed the door to their classroom. “Try this out.” if something happens to her then they will know these cookies are dangerous. Cruel? Not really. It is a strategic planning. Cinque’s body is the strongest out of them so if it was poisoned, she still has a chance to fight it until they can administer some antidot unlike most of them.

#IN CHARACTER.| K I N G #flovverworks #[and this is why you are my favorite human being ....sobs ....#[proceed to cry even more ...

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weldondoucette0 · 3 months

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These Toys Are Made From Foam

But those instances quickly lightened when i realized an ideal substitute-sulfuric acid guns. The supply system of sulfuric acid guns is essentially the same, instead of filling the Super Soaker with water, you utilize sulfuric acid. Hydrochloric acid is also acceptable. The after effects of this gun are a thing of beauty. Only after creating the H2SO4 gun did I understood the phrase "You just melted off my aorta." Also, oddly enough, my use of the Orbi Gun coincides with my increased appreciation of Salvador Dali paintings. Is there actually any query if this guy was on acid (guns)? But as the outdated saying goes"Sulfuric acid is all fun and games, till somebody runs out of acid-then they're a defenseless smoldering target. Zap zap." And this can be a mantra I wish to dwell by. In any case, whenever you introduce acid to any scenario, enjoyable ensues. Things then bought scary though. My love affair with sulfuric acid acted as a gateway to the tougher stuff.

By the point I was 13 and a half, I had developed an arsenal consisting of Micro Machines with base dispensers, some bongos (I have scary-awful rhythm), a falcon and a M20A1 Super Bazooka. The latter one is an entire nother pile of fun. After i performed with that thing, I all the time liked holding it sideways with one hand, as a result of it looked so cool and gangsta. I may then blast something I wanted and be wildly off target (because I used to be so gangsta), nevertheless it did not truly matter, because shit still exploded. Haystacks, lawn gnomes, celery stalks all felt the blast of my bazooka. So kids, get on the market and take pleasure in this summer season. If you are underneath 13, be happy to shoot off some squirt guns, they're reasonably fun, and so they definitely make issues wet. And if you're over 13.5, there's nothing just like the haze of a bazooka blast rising up through the setting summer time sun. Well, that is aside from a blast from the Super Soaker CPS 2000, however who might afford that?

Playing with a water gun is a summer time outside exercise for kids. These toy guns are also called pichkaris in India. The designs of these water toys differ, as per the age group for which they've been designed. So, it's also possible to choose from easy and basic water guns for the younger youngsters. These are easy to function, and you may simply dip the toy in the water, pull again the handle to fill the gun, and push the handle again to release the water. These toys also come in the form of common cartoon characters, like Ben 10 or Spiderman. A few of these toys are designed like real guns, pistols, or rifles for older children. These toys are fabricated from foam, rubber, steel, TPR, paper, ABS plastic, or plastic. These guns are available for kids of all ages online. You may select from widespread brands like DEALbindaas, VR Creatives, DTD Creation, Indigo Creatives, DWARKA Fashion, and plenty of more online. To buy water guns for teenagers of your choice, you possibly can log on and make your selection. With simple, versatile, and safe cost gateways, and supply at a location of your alternative, purchasing on-line for these toys is a clean expertise.

Crayons or Colored Pencils Keep Children Safe Around the Family Pet Has a range of as much as 38’ Build your individual Cemetery Fence Size: 11.Eight x 1.20 x 6.30 inches

There are two one-method valves: one between the reservoir and the pump, and another between the pump and the nozzle. The quantity of water in every blast is proscribed by the dimensions of the pump cylinder. The size of the pump cylinder, in flip, is determined by the vary of the trigger mechanism. To compress and develop extra water, you have to push and pull the piston a greater distance, which implies pulling the set off farther back. The duration of the blast is also restricted. Each pull on the set off creates only a small burst. To squirt water frequently, you might have to keep squeezing and releasing the trigger. Throughout the historical past of water guns, designers have been wrestling with these problems to create a greater pumping system. In the subsequent section, we'll have a look at two simple water-gun designs that improve the stream's range, stress and duration. Then we'll take a look at the gun design that blew all different water weapons away.

Only 41 p.c of children in a latest study might distinguish the real gun (proper) from the toy gun (left). A new research study found that a majority of kids couldn't inform the distinction between an actual gun and a toy gun when presented with comparability photos. In distinction, a majority of parents, caregivers, and the youngsters themselves have been assured their youngsters might distinguish between real and toy guns. The researchers also discovered that, within the research group, fewer than half of the dad and mom and caregivers who were firearm house owners saved their guns safely as beneficial by the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP). The examine summary, "A comparability of parental firearm storage patterns and children’s access to firearms," will probably be presented Monday, Nov. 5 at the AAP 2018 National Conference & Exhibition in Orlando, Fla., by Kiesha Fraser Doh, MD, assistant professor of pediatrics and emergency medication physician at Emory University School of Medicine.

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trash-monkey · 4 months

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What The Hell Is This Mess!!

Chapter 6

"We have decided to take your offer." Draken spoke after we returned to the chiefs office which before we left our temporary room that Kesor got a notification that we can't deny this main quest, Kesor stay in our room to nap.

"Thank you" We can see the relief and hope in in the chiefs eyes at our agreement, he pulls out three hiring contracts from within his desk for us to sign. Hanma takes one to read all the details and even the fine print safety message, the usual stuff about possible injury, dangers and death.

"Everything looks to be inorder." Hanma gives us the light that it's alright to sign the contracts and one by one we sign our own contract with a black feathered quill we passed around.

"When is the caravan leaving?" Sanzu speaks up this time.

"Tomorrow." The Chief pulls out a small wool stringed bag that clinks when sit on the desk.

"This is mine along with the towns thanks and gratitude for what you have done, bringing the girl back and burying our fallen." He scoot the bag to us across the desk which Sanzu grabs and open which he counts 30 gold piece, 10 for each person which we said our thanks before excusing ourselves to pack.

"Sanzu and Hanma go see what they have in the store, I'll get our packs ready to go." Draken said as Sanzu hands Hanma his gold while he keeps Draken's so if he sees something for Draken he can get it, with a nod at that plan they separate. The two steps into one of the very few shops in Bear's Foot and the scent of leather hits the two in the face before seeing that the shop sells mostly leather items but there are a few shiny weapons laying around for sale and after a look around we did find a few things for us. Sanzu found a belted wrist bracers with a knife sheath which comes with the small knife, lather dagger sheath with a 45 degree angle which sits on the back of the hips, and a short blade Katana, the two found leather bracers with iron plating on the and a triple one leg pocket grip belt for Draken, Hanma found himself some lather bracers also and a leather quiver with 25 wooden arrows.

'This leaves us all together 10 gold pieces which Draken and Hanma does need more appropriate traveling attire, well mostly Hanma needs it'

With this the two travel to a clothing shop which Hanma got himself a full simple traveling outfit that's similar to Sanzus current outfit just in different tones of purple and knee high boots, Hanma gets another set for Darken in different tones of blue along with boots also as Sanzu gets another set for himself in case of emergency.

'The three full set of outfits cost us 5 gold pieces which leaves us using the last 5 for food'

The two quickly got what they could with the last 5 gold pieces in food of Bear's Foot food market before heading back to the Chief house, which they can simply hunt if they need to.

"Once again we're penny less." Hanma simply comment to fill the silence as he and Draken change into their new clothes along with their newly bought things once the two return to their temporary room, although I couldn't help but admire their bodies while doing so.

'Damn, we're hot.'

I thought to myself with a laugh as Hanma runs a hand through his hair before helping Draken braid his hair as he just put it into a low ponytail after getting up this morning, suddenly there's knocking on our door.

"Breakfast ready!" Sanzu opens the door to see Yara standing there and tells her we'll be right down which quickly hurry before meeting the family at the dinner table, while eating the dinner we discuss the safety and details of the caravan.

"Thank you for the delicious dinner, Yara." Draken said as him and Hanma do dish wash duty.

"Thank but you make supper as I want see your cooking skills." Draken ask if she want us all to cook or one.

"You, you have cook hands! you hunt and pick for supper today for all, me watch over give tips." Yara gesture to Draken's hands before she points to Hanma when he came back for some for dirty dishes.

"Hanma, have hands for baking and me want him to today for supper also. Sanzu hands only for skinning animals and sewing, they steady and still, good for precision work."

"Thanks Yara, I'll get right on that." Draken smiles at her.

"Glade! Come here!" Yara yells for her son which he immediately comes at his mothers call, Glade is a teen that looks exactly like his father expect he's more thinner but with time he'll also be packing the muscles he's father has.

"Show him the food of nature, what to eat and not." Glade nods grabbing a sack or two before leading Draken into the forest to show him the ropes of a gather and how to step up traps.

Secret Quest, Completed!

Reward:

- Life of a gather skill level 1

- Trapper skill level 1

"Thanks Glade, you can return home now." Glade nods seeing that Draken want to try his skill on his own now after Draken quickly blink the notification away after giving it a quick glance.

"Kesor?" Draken hissed into the air knowing that she can hear him even when she's with Hanma and Sanzu, she pops into existence at the call knowing one of us will be calling after the notification.

"Secret Quest?" Draken questioned as he look closely at the plant in front of him.

"Your system gets random updates but you won't know it as Agnus likes being complicated like that, it's the chaos he craves." Kesor shrub her shoulders as she bounce in the air.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Draken picks more herbs and other eatable things but since of the new gather skill his fingers has a easier time pickinvg, she just saids that she wasn't supposed to until now as she floats to the ground to stand on her feet next to Draken.

Back at the house Hanma is kneading dough in the kitchen while wearing Yaras light blue apron which is small on Hanma large frame as Yara is watching from the kitchen island, Ione looks exactly like her mother Yara and a year younger then her brother Glade as she teaches Sanzu how to sew while the youngest child Nox is playing outside with his friends. Hanma puts the dough into a bowl with a clean dish towel over and into the fridge to sit before getting started on making biscuits, by the time the biscuits is done and Hanma just had popped in the bread to bake in the oven Darken comes in with the two sacks filled and two rabbits.

"Ione, thank you for the lesson but I have a dinner to help with." She nods in understanding and smile at me as she continue on with her pattern when I set the one I'm working in the chair I've been sitting in, I have a feeling she's developing a crush on Sanzu. Draken hands the two rabbits over to Sanzu to skin which he takes into the backyard which Yara immediately followings to see how his skinning work is, Draken works on cleaning and cutting everything he picked to cook.

"You don't open this particular fruit like that." Ione hand lays gently over Draken's own hand that is holding the knife which she gently takes from him and show him how to do it properly.

"If you opened it the way you was going to you'll mostly only get seeds." She glances up at Draken before continuing showing me how to open the fruit but I know what's she's doing she's trying her best to attach herself to one of us, any of us that is willing take her.

'She must be desperate to get love that isn't friends or family, she must have been turned down by her crush or something.'

"Thanks." That is all Draken said to her as to not want to give her any false hope that there might be something between them, she give Draken a awkward smile before slowly walking away right as Sanzu comes in with two cleaned skinned rabbits and bloody hands.

Secret Quest, Completed!

Reward:

- Life of a skinner skill level 1

"He good but not great, with time he will be great in skinning animals." Yara comments as Sanzu hands over the two rabbits to Draken before washing his hands and the knife, once he sure all the blood is completely gone he goes back to his pattern in the living room and isn't surprised when seeing Ione is missing from her chair.

'that must have stung but it needed to happen, she must be in her room sulking'

"Yara, did Ione get rejected?" Draken ask as he prepare to start cooking rabbit stew with bread and biscuits as a side, Yara and Hanma sits at the kitchen island which Hanma checks the bread every so often.

"She has crush on this boy, Pierre. He is framer boy like his dad but don't know if she told him about her feelings, why you ask?" Draken sighed.

"You're going have to talk to her, she's trying to attach to one of us, anyone that is willing to give her love that isn't friends or family, to her it doesn't matter about age and that dangerous." Draken tells bluntly as Yara needs to know before something bad happens to Ione, Yara bows her head in thought.

"Thank you for telling." She says before pushing me aside take over the cooking at seeing Draken cluelessness on how to insert one of the rabbits into the stew .

"Watch closely." She shows me how to cut the meat off the bones and into the stew that's filled with edible plants Draken picked earlier with Glades help.

Secret Quest, Completed!

Reward:

- Baker skill level 1

The notification pops up right as Hanma sit the finish baked bread onto the kitchen island to cool off which Yara takes a taste test of along with the biscuits.

"Bread hard but will get better with practice and biscuits good on first try." She gesture to the biscuits will be for supper as the side, Draken pops the last rabbit into the oven to bake. While that bakes Yara moves around the kitchen to cook a little more for supper to actually fill eight people.

"Only you three eat this for supper, if eat all then you three can eat good everyday by own hands." Yara is a mother after all so she worries about the people she cares for which I can see she had come to care for us too even if it's only been a few days we've been staying in her home. We set the table once everything is cooked and bring all the food onto the dinning table.

"They made baked rabbit, rabbit stew, and biscuits! Draken picked and trapped, Hanma baked, and Sanzu skinned rabbits! Can cook for themselves when traveling!" Yara sounds proud as she tells the chief about our achievements like we're their own kids.

"It's all thanks to you, Yara." Yara hears the words Hanma didn't say and nods at us.

"You all fast learners." Yara smiles bright at us.

"You taste test their cooking?" Yara ask her husband while gesturing to our food which he nods.

"Although I put most of the stew together, Yara showed me how to need the rabbit in." Draken sip at his cup of water since him and the other two denied the offered liquor, not knowing how these three bodies can even handle it.

"I'm begging you...." Hanma sings softly as he undos Draken's braid as the two sits on the bed already changed into their borrowed PJs, Sanzu is currently changing into his.

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