#next curious thing to me are the voices and shouts‚ most likely in chinese‚ that i cannot discern and that i found nothing about online yet

[ofbardsandmen]

nothing ever excites me more than a spontaneous genshin, or more particularly, mondstadt discovery. i sat diluc upon the barbatos statue as a nice spot to go afk on without being interrupted by repetitive idle animations and voicelines (sorry diluc, this is nothing personal). my volume was turned up more than regularly by accident, and my in-game music was off despite how much i like the original game soundtrack. aNYHOW- i was about to go afk when i heard some strange noises that i didn't recall hearing in mondt before. it made me pause and turn my volume up even more. in the video above, it's kind of hard to discern the brief sounds over the noise of the wind up on the statue and in mondstadt in general, but when the wind dies down a little, you can distinctly hear voices of people, and what shocked me the most – neighs of horses. i have no clue whether it is just me discovering this only now, after 4 years of playing this godforsaken game and clearly not having paid enough attention to mondstadt's sfx before, but i still felt the need to share this terribly interesting tidbit in case there's other clueless mondstadt enthusiasts like me.

[vibeswithdivs]

player two

The suitcase thudded onto your hallway floor with a soft oof from your little brother. He wiped his shoes carefully, scanning the apartment with wide, curious eyes. “This is actually… nicer than I thought.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Gee, thanks.”

“I mean—” he shrugged, brushing curls out of his eyes, “—for a small city flat, it’s kinda cozy.”

Before you could defend your beloved kitchen nook or the string lights above the couch, Oscar walked out of the bedroom in sweats and a hoodie, soft curls still slightly damp from a recent shower. He offered a small smile and a wave.

“Hey, man,” he said gently. “You must be the famous little brother I’ve heard about.”

Your brother blinked. Then blinked again.

“…You’re Oscar Piastri.”

Oscar chuckled. “Last time I checked.”

Your brother turned to you with an expression that practically screamed Are you kidding me right now? and then back to Oscar like he was trying not to combust. “I, uh—hi.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be weird.”

Oscar smiled and extended his hand. “Come on, let’s get your stuff sorted. I made up the futon in the study. Hope that works?”

Your brother looked from Oscar to the hallway, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s… really cool. Thanks.”

And just like that, the gears began turning.

Over the next two days, Oscar surprised you in the smallest, most specific ways — not with grand gestures, but by how carefully he navigated around your brother’s teenage awkwardness. He asked about the video games your brother liked. Let him choose the Friday night pizza toppings (even when that meant pineapple and chili flakes). He even adjusted the thermostat when your brother muttered that it felt a bit cold — quietly, without fuss.

It was subtle, seamless. And yet you saw all of it.

Oscar wasn’t just being polite. He was folding your brother into the rhythm of your shared space like it was instinct.

And then Saturday evening came, wrapped in the sound of soft rain outside and leftover Chinese boxes on the coffee table. You emerged from a hot shower, wrapped in a fluffy towel and half-damp hair, when the sound of laughter echoed down the hallway — loud, crackling, and familiar.

You padded toward the living room, socked feet whispering over the hardwood floor.

The first thing you saw was your brother on the edge of the couch, clutching a controller like his life depended on it. His whole body leaned forward, eyes narrowed at the TV screen in full F1 racing glory.

Oscar sat beside him, one leg tucked under the other, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth in concentration, mirroring your brother’s position like they were in sync without knowing it.

“No, no, no—go wide! GO WIDE!” your brother shouted.

“I am going wide, you little gremlin!” Oscar shot back, laughing, his voice raised in mock-panic.

“You’re P5! Come on! That McLaren’s got more in it—”

“I will yeet this car off the track just to take you with me—”

“No you won’t, you’re too competitive.”

“Says the twelve-year-old with a vendetta against Charles’ virtual avatar!”

“I’m thirteen!” your brother shrieked.

You stood quietly in the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself, heart swelling.

It was silly. Just a game, just a living room, just two people who weren’t meant to fit together so easily — and yet they did. Oscar glanced sideways at your brother when he cracked a joke, mirroring his laugh like it came naturally. Your brother elbowed him like they’d known each other for years, and not just seventy-two hours.

You watched Oscar’s hand ruffle your brother’s hair playfully, drawing an exaggerated ugh from him.

Oscar grinned. “It’s part of the bonding process. You’ll live.”

You moved closer, curling up into the armchair with a blanket draped over your shoulders, still unnoticed. You didn’t speak. Just watched the two of them banter and race and argue about cornering speeds like they’d been doing this for weeks.

Your brother threw his arms in the air after winning one round. “Let’s goooo! Player One still reigns supreme!”

Oscar leaned back, mock-offended. “I let you win.”

“You did not!”

“I was being a gracious host.”

“You spun out in Sector 2!”

Oscar shrugged. “Because I was too busy carrying the emotional weight of this household.”

Your brother doubled over laughing.

And somewhere between their snarky jabs and exaggerated race commentary, Oscar looked up — just for a second — and found your eyes.

Something in his smile softened.

He didn’t say anything. He just gave you a look that said, I see you. I know this means everything to you. And it means everything to me too, because it’s yours.

Later, after your brother had shuffled off to bed with sleepy protests and half-finished snack crumbs on his hoodie, you found Oscar in the kitchen, rinsing two empty water glasses.

You wrapped your arms around his middle from behind, pressing your cheek into the warmth of his back.

“You two were loud.”

He chuckled. “That kid’s a menace on the track. He brake-checked me like a pro.”

“He likes you.”

“I like him too.”

You felt his hand cover yours over his ribs.

“Thanks for not making it weird,” you whispered.

Oscar turned around, arms coming to rest around your waist, gentle and loose. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“You made him feel safe.”

Oscar looked at you, long and soft, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I made space for your world. That’s not a chore — it’s a privilege.”

You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the smell of laundry soap and leftover garlic noodles and something warm that had nothing to do with temperature.

“You looked really hot when you beat him at Silverstone, by the way,” you murmured.

Oscar chuckled. “Tell him that tomorrow. Might humble him.”

You grinned. “He’s a teenage boy. Humbling him will take divine intervention.”

“Then it’s a good thing I drive like a god.”

You snorted against his hoodie. “Okay, Player Two.”

Oscar kissed the top of your head. “Always, if it means being part of your team.”

[msmarvelwrites]

Season Of The Witch

Summary: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much. 

Pairing: Bucky x reader 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, honestly i think that’s it. Just soft boy Bucky.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Little bit of a witchy- halloween vibe for ya guys… Honestly I’m really in love with this idea, so who knows- if you like it I might write a part 2! 

Huge Thank you to @cutie1365 for editing this mess! Couldnt have done it without her!

“Okay, okay. What colour am I thinking of now.” Peter squealed, plopping himself down on your bed, staring at you like a kid on christmas. 

Being the Avengers personal psychic has its benefits, but this was certainly not one of them. You thought your party-trick of a superpower would have grown old on your friends, and yet it always seemed to draw a crowd of non-believers. You weren't the toughest or the strongest by any means, but you sure knew your way around a person's thoughts, which proved to be an advantage to the team. Mostly you were in charge of recon, but that didn't stop Natasha from dragging you to the gym every weekend and torturing you with super hero level workouts. 

“How many more times are we going to do this, Peter?” You sighed, but soon realised he wasnt caving. “Blue. Just like last time it was orange and the time before that thirteen. Can we please stop.” 

Peter scanned you over for a moment, before relaxing back on your headboard. 

Fine, but only because Mr. Stark said he was ordering Chinese and it's probably here by now. His voice echoed through your mind. 

“Actually, I heard Wanda say he’s getting pizza.” You corrected.

“How did you-?” He paused, eyes agape as your words registered. “That is seriously cool, you know that? I mean, I hang from the walls but that- that is cool! I can see why they coined you The Witch now,” Peter playfully shouted. “Can you do that with anyone, at any time?” 

You smiled sheepishly, remembering the times your wandering mind had gotten you in some pretty uncomfortable situations. You tried your very best to stay out of your friends heads, but sometimes that was easier said than done. Especially when it came to the former Hydra assassin. His thoughts seemed to creep into your mind, seeping through the cracks unbidden. Sometimes his mind would wander aimlessly, but that wasn't always the case. You knew about Bucky’s dark past, however hearing it in his own cruel words was something else entirely. Though he would never utter the words allowed they were seared into your mind. You had every sense to avoid the man and yet his voice, like gravel and smoke, drew you in, intoxicated on his every word as it clouded around your subconscious.

“Unfortunately” You sighed, easing back into the mattress and unconsciously biting at the corner of your mouth. Your gift didnt make you very popular when you were younger. You were honestly surprised it was so welcomed here. Most people consider you an invasion of privacy...  But Peter was different from the highschool kids you grew up with. Maybe it was due to the fact he was different too, but something about the way his mind wandered made you believe that radio-active spider or not, Peter would always be Peter. 

“What does Bucky think about?” 

That knocked you out of your thoughts. You snapped your head up and looked at Peter, who only seemed to have a curious look in his eyes. 

He’s so broody and mysterious. Guy gives me the creeps. 

“Bucky is a sweetheart deep down.” You faked a smile, concerned as to why you felt the need to defend him. From an outside perspective, it was possible to fear the former Winter Soldier. However, knowing what you did haunted your nerves. 

“I’m sure very, very deep down.” Peter chuckled. “I’m going to go grab some pizza before Sam eats it all. Are you coming?” 

You smiled softly, preparing yourself for the dinner with your friends. Though you enjoyed having a sort of family, dinners together would often grow overwhelming in your mind, voices colliding though your head, brewing into a storm in your thoughts. 

“I’ll be down in a few.” With that, Peter stumbled out of your room and down the hallway leaving you with your thoughts. You closed your eyes, concentrating on the many different voices faintly echoing around you. You could only make out bits and pieces as they vibrated through the walls and all around you. At first, it was hard to identify whose voice belonged to who, but soon after you moved into the compound it became easy. 

Natasha thought in poems. Her brain was always working on the next solution- the next verse. Her mind wandered in and out of trains of thought like a dancer, drifting back and forth with ease. It was always relaxing listening in. 

Tony was constantly listening to his music wherever he went. You had an inkling it was because he knew how powerful you were. ‘Like built-in surveillance,’ he’d often say. Though, you’d never deflate his ego in letting him know you could still hear his thoughts clear as day. 

But then there was Bucky. It took you a while to understand his thoughts. They always seemed erratic and chased- never one thought all at once, but it soon became clear why. Bucky was constantly correcting himself. When his mind began to tiptoe into the darkest corners, he’d change the conversation, ushering it back to what he thought was right. Listening to his internal debates became a favourite pastime of yours. He often reminisced about his time in the forties. You liked how easy it was, listening to him think. Though you had never said more than five words to him allowed, you were content with this little part of him. Pieces only you both knew. Like the beautiful woman he would lose himself daydreaming about. The way he described her made you feel flush all over. He never thought her name, and yet it stung all the more knowing his heart was stolen. His beautiful ‘ведьма’. Not that you stood a fighting chance. Not to mention the impending age gape you both shared. Often he would find you staring and a string of curses would follow as he realised he’d be caught. You never meant to intrude, but then again, that wasn't entirely true. 

With a huff, you swung your legs off the bed letting your feet hit the cold wooden floors, but before you could even open the door, you heard him. His voice was so loud you almost didn't know if he was speaking aloud or not. 

Just do it, you punk. Walk up there and ask her. What’s the worst that could happen?.... She could plunge a knife into your back- no…. She wouldn't do that and you know it. If you ask her, she might say yes… Honestly that might he worse than- 

You swing the door open, startling Bucky back a few paces as your eyes might his. Instantly his face blooms with pink as his mind races- his thoughts an incoherent mess. 

“Hi Bucky.” You spoke only above a whisper. 

“Oh jesus! I didn't know you were right there.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck trying to steady his breathing. 

“Sorry…” You mumbled, breaking eye contact and suddenly finding the floor very interesting. “I didn mean to scare you-”

“You don’t- I mean, you didn't scare me.” He chuckled, his mind suddenly blank. “It doesn't matter right now because I, uh… I was wondering if you're coming for dinner.” 

You nodded your head, “Yeah, on my way now.” You smiled softly. 

“Great,” Bucky grinned, running his hand through his cropped hair and stepping aside. “I can walk with you.” 

You nodded, swallowing hard as you swung the door shut and began walking side by side with Bucky in heavy silence. 

“Know what’s for dinner?” Bucky finally spoke. 

“Pizza. Your favourite.” You affirmed, meeting his curious eyes. His strides slowed until he was at a full stop. 

“I never told you that.” He pried, looking at your in question. 

You froze, suddenly aware of what you had just said. There was nothing more you wanted than to sink into the floor and let the earth swallow you whole. 

“Uh,” You nervously laughed, “You must have at some point. Yeah, I remember now, it was-”

“How often do you listen?” he interrupted, making your mouth clamp shut. 

You thought about lying, though it didn't seem right. You knew all his secrets and all he asked was this one. Surely you could grant him that even if it cost a punch to the ego.

“All the time,” You started, your eyes never leaving the floor. “I don’t mean to. At least that’s the way it started. I really try to put you guys all on ‘mute’ when we're together, but your voice always comes through. I don't know what it is, but I like the way you think.” You admitted, feeling heat rising from your chest.

“You like the way I think?” He pried, taking a few steps closer to you. You could feel the tension buzzing around the hallway, ricocheting off the walls and exploding all around you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so embarrassed. It's such an invasion of privacy. You must hate me. I promise I won't tell anyone about the things I hear. Especially her.” 

“Her?” He chuckled, taking another step toward you leaving only a few tiles between the two of you. 

“Ведьма.” You choked out. “You think about her all the time. She sounds beautiful, by the way. I’m sorry, that's overstepping… I just, I’m sorry. Really I’ll just go-”

Before you could turn on your heel and run for the hills, Bucky's hands were around your wrists, holding you still. His eyes were pleading as he opened he opened and shut his mouth trying to find the right words to say. 

“For a witch, you sure aren’t very intuitive.” Bucky signed, your eyes finally landing on his.  “My beautiful witch, don’t know by now?” 

You blinked at him, your mouth suddenly dry and words caught in your throat. Before you could speak, his thoughts broke through the air, tumbling around you. 

Are you listening, doll? His voice echoed around you sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded your head, watching as his eyes crinkled up as he a lopsided grin formed on his pink lips. 

It’s you. It’s always you. I've tried to stop, trust me. I just can’t seem to shake it.

You almost didn't notice the smile that began to pull at the corners of your mouth as you took in his words. They drifted in the air around you, echoing through your mind as Bucky’s thumbs rubbed circles into your skin. 

“Ask me.” You spoke up, a sudden confidence serging through your core. Bucky raised a brow, scanning you over until your words resonated with him. 

“Right, of course.” He cleared his throat, letting go of your hands and intertwining his own nervously. “Would you ever consider letting me take you out. To dinner, maybe?”

You bit down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling as you listened to his internal monologue of nerves that followed his question. 

“Took you long enough.” You chuckled, watching as his smile lit up the room around you. Before you could stop yourself you closed the distance between you, draping your arms around his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. Bucky froze, but almost as instantly melted into you, his hands finding their home on your hips as he pulled you in. You wanted nothing more than to melt into him but his racing thoughts swirled around you, causing a giggle to fall from your lips. 

Holy Shit. Kiss her back, you moron. Oh god she smells so good. What is that? Cinnamon? Citrus? Shit, she's so close to me. Don't panic. Don't panic. Fuck she feels good. Just relax, and- Oh shit. Can you hear me? 

You couldn't help but throw your head back, laughter bubbling out of your chest as his thoughts raced through his head. 

“I can tell you're going to be a lot of fun, Barnes” You mumbled against his lips.

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A/n: Nervous Bucky is my favourite can you tell? I loved this one, show some love if you felt the same! 

@cutie1365    @whateveriwant

@projectcampbell    @kalesrebellion

@calwitch     @hpandmcu177a

[rigelmejo]

Some September 1st Updates

the READING SPEED difference of a novel at my level! I read the first chapter of 撒野 yesterday and this author is at exactly my reading level right now. I hit 0-2 new words each pleco page, which is usually the sweet spot to either guess the word or if I look it up I can pretty quickly adapt to recognizing it in context. Its also the sweet spot where if I only rely on guessing for new word meanings, on a second pass through I can fairly well guess the meaning quickly. 

It was a 32 page chapter in pleco and I read it in 20 minutes. Compared to the 20 pleco page per chapter pingxie fic i just finished (like 124k characters! WOW I read and FINISHED that much!), which was taking 30-40 minutes per chapter (mainly because of number of new vocabulary per chapter being a bit higher). If I’d wanted to speed read saye I could have, I’d have missed some small details but I could have tried if I wanted.

Then I did a second pass later in the day with the audiobook just following along with the text. Realized 1. I knew most words in the audiobook and did not follow as well as i thought - but those first listen throughs without having seen the chapter I did manage to figure out the main character just broke up, just travelled somewhere, ran into a girl and somehow the girls brother showed and the two guys interacted a little and someone was being somewhat helpful, then the main guy met his father trying to ‘pick him up.’ Which is a true but very rough summary of what happens in the first chapter. By reading I could confirm the words I thought were names AS names, figured out WHY the girl was interacting with the main guy and that there were actually two girls in chapter 1, and figure out who helped who and who was the girl’s brother. Also somehow before I looked at the chapter text I never caught that the audiobook mentions a motorcycle despite me knowing that word and it SOUNDING like mota-che/motorche! it sounds like the word and i knew it and didn’t hear it! Then later following the audiobook with the text I realized another issue I had, is I’m not used to listening to soft voices with such faint pronunciations of the final sounds. I’m much more used to deeper crisper pronunciations and being able to rely clearly on initials and finals AS much as tones to recognize the words, whereas this particular audiobook i needed to mainly rely on tones and initials to figure out what word was what - that probably threw me off a bit. It’s probably good for me to get practice listening to such a different voice to what I’m used to. I have definitely learned the deeper the voice, the more I have a far easier time figuring out what’s being said. Also standard accent more like beijing but without a huge amount of ‘er’s just some, and taiwan accent are the easiest for me to hear when i’m not pa

For anyone curious, here is the audiobook for SaYe I’m listening to: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2w27tfjeeaySbMK272NpXwUtsBc-e3YN

Also here’s a chinese audiobook youtube I found: https://www.youtube.com/c/%E6%9C%89%E5%A3%B0%E5%B0%8F%E8%AF%B4%E5%90%AC%E4%B9%A6%E4%B8%96%E7%95%8Cyoushengxiaoshuo/playlists

Which includes The King’s Avatar: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLTJaWZoVPdT1ZhIQIKxVci7fVEHr-oX6k

And ErHa: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLsxEOGKlBMaFa6CS6Hf5ndy6qTtUL0Au_

Anyway, its a great book right now for reading practice. It’s very much around my level. I will probably stick with this author for a little while and solidify what I know/my base reading level. 

-

IN OTHER NEWS:

I am apparently living proof listening-reading, heavy emphasis on re-listening a TON in the background as you work or type or walk/drive whatever, works for learning new words. 

I re-listened to guardian chapter 1 audiobook at least 20-30 times by now, just a tremendous amount. Chapters 1-10 I’ve listened to at least 5 times by now random chapters at random days, and some probably also 20 times. 

I have listened to these chapters enough, that I can officially follow so much that I know nearly every freaking word I hear, I know it immediately on hearing in at least 3 different audiobooks, and the few ‘less familiar’ words I recognize a second after hearing (like hearing ‘audacious’ or ‘glum’ in english it just takes me a second to re-remember), and the very few still forgotten words/specific details I learn From those words I can actually pick up from the context of listening.

 I hear ‘powei’ and somehow forgot it AGAIN? Oh it means ‘rather’ in this context. ‘anli’ well i always hear ‘anlishuo’ as in ‘people say/generally speaking’ so ‘anli’ in this context must mean ‘generally/generally speaking.’ chuanghu? can’t remember it because i was just typing this JUST now and only hearing a few words from the audiobook in the background - well in context its obviously window, but out of context my brain said window and i just couldn’t remember if it was window or curtain but felt curtain had something more complex than ‘hu’ as the second half - just looked it up and my guess was right, even with no context which i’d have had if i’d been listening better and it had been clear it’s window, it still made me think ‘window’ immediately just hearing the sound. ‘xiang yi ge ren’ sounds like ‘looks like a person’ which is the next phrase i just randomly heard. ‘hua le yao ming’ shouted for their life/in awful terror? or that would be ‘huo’, so maybe ‘streaking toward him to take his life’? would make sense in context of a horror scene - i just looked it up and 划了要命 would be the second one. even IF i heard the wrong line, both of those are pretty close to a good guess in context and hua is the only unknown because without context i can’t place if it was hua or huo. i still confuse the words wu and wo for hold etc, but in context i can tell which one it is (wo is hold a hand, hold a face, etc). 

I’m genuinely at a point where I can just completely follow the plot through at least the first 20 chapters from listening. And for most scenes, follow every detail too including stuff like guo changcheng spending half a year not working at home after he graduated, being so afraid of the phone, da qing being fawning to shen wei when they meet and rubbing against his leg, the specific conversation details when da qing runs across zhao yunlan’s car in chapter 2, what zhao yunlan’s room exactly looks like, etc. Its super cool to be able to follow the audiobook so well I can follow the story and details even when I don’t have time to read! It’s so fun! And it was not very hard!

It took 40 minutes of upfront study where you set time aside to focus: 20 minutes to have a program read the chapter aloud while you either see unknown word definitions pop up (like in Pleco) or look them up with some click dictionary as you listen. 20 minutes to go through and listen to the audiobook as you follow along with the text. Then after that, just play the audiobook chapters you’ve done this with whenever you want, either paying attention like when going to bed soon or walking, or in the background like when cleaning or doing busy work or driving. Since background listening can be done easily whenever all you have to do is remember to click play when you want something to listen to. 

I’m honestly blown away by how much 3 months of studying mainly like this (which is quite fun and only requires me to carve out a small amount of actual study focused time) has improved my listening skills. I can now also listen to the 2ha audiobook okay and follow along (provided its a chapter I’ve read before so I have at least some prior context to help me out) - at least so far as that’s what I’m listening to right now. Basically, I can tell Guardian has both upped my vocabulary significantly and also improved my automatic recognition of many words I half-knew and learned since. 

I recently found a new Guardian audiobook read by a deep voice and its lovely (and utilizes music and echo for effects, its lovely to listen to) I hope the poster keeps updating: https://fm.qq.com/show/rd002ED4aN0mYz2L__

I’ve been listening to it lately.

---

Also! Directions for using Pleco Android for screen reader:

1. To get any page bookmarked online: 

Open a page in your mobile web browser you want to read. Click the menu, click share, click Pleco Reader (or ‘more’ or ‘...’ then Pleco Reader).

Go to Clipboard Reader. Now when you click text, dictate text megaphone will be an option.

*Since Clipboard Reader is free, you can do this to read in Pleco and have things spoken aloud with no money spent. (Though I find the Reader tool worth the money and add ons).

2. To have any text ‘dictated aloud’:

Go to Pleco’s menu, Settings, Audio, click ‘use TTS if no recording,’ then for Sentence Audio section area System TTS Setting click Speech Services by Google (you can also experiment by clicking other options I am just stating what worked for me, it didn’t work at first I had to make that my default TTS in my Accessibility-Talkback Settings menu on my main phone first and restart my phone before all this). 

Then click the area right below to mess with speed and sound of the TTS voice. 

(Note, to test if TTS is working you can go to any dictionary entry sentence, click the speaker next to the sentence and see if it plays audio. If it does not, you will get an error message and directions on what to change in your phone settings. That is what initially happened to me: I had to go to phone Settings, Accessibility, Talkback, TTS Engine, TTS Engine voice and settings. Pleco recommended I choose Speech Services by Google, and uninstall then reinstall the Chinese voice. Then restart the phone. That worked for me. An additional note: I have Talkback setting on ‘on’ and just have it in my toolbar to use if desired but am not actively using it. If you turn Talkback setting ‘off’ in the actual Settings area of Accessibility, I am not sure if it will affect Pleco’s ability to dictate). 

3. How to put it together: 

Now go to Clipboard Reader and read the page from the internet you wanted or text you pasted, or go to Document Reader and open the document you wish to read. 

Click a word as a place to start. Now you should see both the loudspeaker (for pronouncing the single word) and the Megaphone next to it to start dictating all text. (If your phone is weird like me, you may need to press the megaphone a couple times before the audio works).

If you wish to change dictation reading speed, simply hold down the megaphone and select the speed desired. 

Now that I’ve figured this out I really want to take pictures of my print book, make a pdf, and listen to all the changes.

(Now I just have to fix my weird dictionary in Idiom app and I’m all set on the new phone!)

---

All I’ve been doing the past august study wise is just reading pingxie fic and finishing, and listening to audiobooks. It’s been a busy time for me ToT

I do think it proved you can be lazy and still make some improvements though: 

1. Reading in Pleco (or click-dictionary tool of your choice): pick something and read a chapter a day (that’s what I did, obviously the easier this is the less time you’ll need, but aim for around 30 minutes a day and reading material closer to your level if you don’t want to read too long)

2. Listening-Reading Method something above your reading level that you enjoy. Should take 40 minutes a couple times a week to several times a week to hours a week, depending on how intense you want to get with it and how much you’re going to alternate/include the reading portion. I did like 1-2 chapters a week so I was only spending 40 minutes to 1.5 hours a week doing this, or 3 hours one week no time another week. This is definitely something where you can do 6-12 hours one month then coast on it for another month just repeating older material’s audio/re-reading sections (which is what I did with guardian, doing 22 chapters then switching to just listening to audio a lot). 

Once you’ve done a little L-R steps 2 and 3 (in either order, whatever works for you - and doing step 1 if you want more context prior to steps 2 and 3), then just make time during your days to play the audiobook chapters you’ve studied. You don’t need to be focusing every single time (although focusing on actually trying to follow the audio the first time you listen without text to aid you will probably speed up your comprehension a lot by giving you a lot of basic-context to help you comprehend more later). Aim to listen whenever you’ve got down time! Or time where you’d play music or some background youtube video or podcast - walks, exercise, drives, when cleaning, when browsing the web goofing off, when working if you have times when you’d listen to music with lyrics or a podcast in the background without issues, times when you don’t need to focus 100% on listening just putting it on to hear in the background). 

That’s all I’ve done for study since May. It takes me about 30 minutes 5 days a week, plus 1-2 hours listening-reading actively a week. So 2.5 hours plus 2 = 4 hours of active study a week. Sometimes more like 8-10 if I got really into reading something or Listening-reading to several chapters. Then after that (very easy to fit into my life 4-10 hours per week of study) I just play the audiobook whenever I have downtime at work (that’s usually 0.5-4 hours where I just let it play because I forget its on while working on spreadsheets, updates, emails, etc, or play the audiobook while messing around on the internet in my free time at home, sometimes I put on music instead), while walking so 15-30 minutes maybe 3 days a week, while driving far so maybe 20 minutes - 2 hours per week. maybe lets say 2 hours*4 days a week (I don’t remember to listen every day) so 8 hours random listening+1.5 hours walking+1 hour driving per week. That’s 11.5 hours listening in the background or paying attention plus lets say 4 hours of active study a week. So 15.5 ‘study’ hours for chinese per week - an average overall of ~2.21 hours of chinese ‘study’ per day. This isn’t counting when I get into weibo and goof off, get into some chinese show with no english subs and just start watching it (I watched 16 episodes of Humans cdrama in August which is ~10.66 hours for a total of at least (15.5*4 weeks = 62 hours + 10.66 hours -> ~72.66 hours spent ‘with chinese’ in August at minimum. 4 weeks*7 days = 28, so over around 28 days or most of august I did 72.66 total hours/28 days -> or ~2.595 hours of chinese per day as an average. So... my guess that I spend at least 1-2 hours on chinese per day as the average was a decent guess. Looks like I’m usually 2 hours to 2.5 hours daily as an overall average. It’s not that hard to get in that much without a ton of time in the day once you get some listening skills built up ToT Deciding to build up my listening skills has been one of the funnest goals in chinese so far.

Notes on Listening Reading Actively - it also doubles as increasing your exposure to listening to your target language, and the more hours the better even if its passive in the background, just more hours adding up toward your mind getting a better ability to parse the sounds of the language is going to help your overall listening comprehension in general. So even if you don’t pay attention much and can’t follow the whole plot and only catch certain scenes, you will be improving at least comprehension of: hearing words you know, hearing colocations and common phrases and recognizing more automatically which will help with speaking/writing indirectly and reading recognition of those things, overall ability to hear things correctly in different combinations and getting used to the common combinations. 

You will be surprised how much more you can pick up of plot and details the 3rd listen compared to the first, the 5th listen, the 10th listen. It’s wild. Like... I’m listening to the 2ha audiobook and even having never read it in chinese, just knowing basic context, the 2nd read through I caught so much more of the plot throughout just because I had forewarning of when scenes change a lot, what audio plays during some parts I recognized in previous listens, and so I have more focus for figuring out the new details I missed. Whereas the first listen, I didn’t always know WHAT the scene context was until I heard a familiar line or description I remembered from the english version of the scene, but on a second listen I now have a better guess at the scene the lines are probably taking place in before and after those lines I recognized in the first listen. And this continues etc each time you re-listen to something. (So yes, that initial context of knowing what you’re listening to with a previous read of its translation or target language transcript will definitely speed up comprehension pick up - but if you just wanna test what your basic listening comprehension to new content is then it works fine just going into new audio with no prior context its just more difficult at first lol until you build an idea of the context from listening).

The original Listening-Reading Method person did like 40+ hours a week, 8 hours most days, no wonder they made fast progress! They often included reading in some form (hence the name) and later translation, so they also were constantly working on listening AND some reading skills AND eventually often some speaking/writing skills. Doing it my way results in mostly listening comprehension of stuff you could already read to a degree, more automaticity in recognition, and for picking up new vocabulary both in listening and reading. I do extra reading on the side with other stuff to get more reading practice in an isolated way (since I’m trying to push my reading speed up above speaking speed). I always try to do it the way the creator originally intended, but I am not able to focus on things for more than 20 minutes at a time, 40 to a couple hours if I take a break every 20 minutes. So doing it 8 hours just doesn’t work out. 

---

I’m fairly happy!

I am on plan for my main goals that started this style study plan: 

1. Improving my reading level to get to start being able to extensively read actual danmei novels - we got there! I am at a reading level appropriate for SaYe at 98% comprehension when I checked, and at a bit above 95% comprehension for Guardian! I’m now continuing with that goal while adding on increasing reading Speed in general.

2. Improving listening skills so I have better automatic recognition of partly-known words from reading (working super well so far - I can tell because ability to watch cdramas in only chinese has improved noticeably and gotten much easier), and so I can start following the main plot and key details of audiobooks of things I’ve read before (working great for guardian, starting to work with other audiobooks provided I listen to the chapters a few times or several times if its brand new material I have no context for, however reading level matters and while things I have prior familiarity with are going very well - brand new materials are still quite challenging in that they require multiple listens for the full plot and several listens before I start picking up most non-plot-critical details). 

[timeandspacenovelist]

Almost A Nightmare

Rating: G Chapters: 1/1

Summary: While she's recovering after her tag match, Rhea Ripley finds herself being helped out by an unexpected source, which changes her outlook on certain things.

Notes : Just a tiny fic I wanted to make after the tag match last week Monday. I'm enjoying the developing respect and friendship between Nikki and Rhea and I wanted to add a bit more to it.

Read this story also on :

Archive Of Our Own

Rhea sat in the women’s locker room, ice pack to the back of her neck. She had just come off a match where she got a Samoan Drop and a Natural Selection, so she felt it was quite needed right now. She had shrugged off medical attention when she had gotten backstage, but then when the pain annoyed her too much, she went to the trainer’s room and returned with some ice packs. Normally, she wouldn’t have gotten caught out so easily, but she had had a match earlier in the night with Nikki ASH, so she wasn’t on top of her game. There was maybe a time where she’d be up for two matches a night and could do it easily, but times change, and so did she.

She gave a quick groan as she touched the sore spot on the neck. It sucked, but it was necessary. She leaned forward and looked down at the ground. She couldn’t dwell on what happened tonight. She had to look forward to Summerslam and give that her full attention. But that attention, at least currently, was broken because of by a knock on the door. One Nikki ASH, in her civilian clothes, stood looking at her sheepishly.

“What do you want?” Rhea said, her voice raised slightly because of the pain. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout. Just a bit annoyed right now.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Rhea went to protest, not particularly wanting to talk to anyone right now, but she needed Nikki for one thing. “…. I do need someone to ice my back.”

Nikki went and picked up one of the other ice packs and applied it to the middle of Rhea's back. She winced at the initial chilly feeling, but then eased into it, enjoying how it soothed the pain.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you in the end. Should have held up my part of the team.” Nikki said, her voice low.

“Wasn’t much you could do. Neither of us were at 100 percent and they were fresh as daisies.”

“Not our best decision, accepting that tag match.”

“Nope, but I’ve done worse to be fair.“

Nikki’s mouth curled into a curious smile. “Like?”

“Entering Wargames. Woke up sore the entire week after that. Granted, wrestling at Survivor Series the night after didn’t help.” Rhea said, chuckling, remembering those two nights fondly.

“I thought it was really brave actually, even though I could tell you’d regret it in the long run.”

Rhea was taken aback slightly by the praise given. It’s not something she heard everyday. Usually people would chastise her (if albeit in a joking manner) for taking such a risk. But she didn’t care what they would think. It was two matches she’d never forget as long as she lived, invaluable to her career and her life.

“I don’t regret it, actually,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d do it all over again if I had to or could. It was my chance to put myself on the map in WWE. I had to take it. Nowadays though, I don’t think I’d be so eager to do it.”

“That’s your experience and maturity talking. You learn quickly when and when not to take certain risks. Trust me, I’ve been at this 13 years now, it becomes a very valuable trait down the line.”

“A superhero and a wise mage. You’re so multifaceted.” Rhea told her, smirking.

She had never gotten many opportunities to speak to Nikki before, at least not in such a personal and relaxed time. She had to admit; she was a bit surprised at how wise Nikki seemed. She knew of vets who wrestled as long as her that she learned nothing from when they offered her advice. So this was a nice change of pace.

“Ahem. Almost a superhero, but I will accept the wise mage moniker.” Nikki corrected her with a smile. “You’ll get there one day. I’ve been watching you since we faced off in 2018. You’re improving week after week. It’s kinda scary actually, if I’m honest. You’re so talented.”

The redness on Rhea’s face let Nikki know exactly how her praise resonated with her. “Thanks. Do you go around, complimenting all your temporary tag partners like this?”

“Only the ones who I consider my friends.”

Rhea’s faced turned slightly incredulous. Friends? Is that what Nikki thought of her? That was….. unexpected. She hadn’t exactly shown herself to be a friend type person. In fact, she was a loner through and through, only asking for help when she absolutely had to.

“You... consider me your friend?”

Nikki rested the ice pack down, and sat on the bench next to Rhea, realizing that this was something she needed to hear face to face.

“Of course. You showed me respect when others didn’t, and you were willing to help me when others didn’t. That usually constitutes a friend in my book.” Nikki said with her customary wide grin.

“That’s...nice....” Rhea told her, still not completely on board with was going on, mostly confused if she was honest.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just...you’re the first person to call me a friend around here. Not something I’m really accustomed to. I’m normally on my own.”

“Which is a damn shame if you ask me. You seem like a great person, once people get to know you. Take it from someone who was also a loner for a while. When the opportunity comes when someone wants to be your friend, take it. Being alone in this industry of ours, isn’t necessarily the best strategy.”

Rhea’s face turned red again as she looked away from Nikki. She had an idea and wasn’t quite sure how it would come across. She was the Nightmare, the most dangerous woman in WWE. She couldn’t be seen saying this to someone like Nikki. But seeing as no one else was here, and she was in a slightly less aggressive mood than usual, she decided to let loose.

“So something like, I wanna be your friend too.”

“Exactly.”

“Nikki?”

“Yeah?”

“... I wanna be your friend too.” Rhea told her with a half smirk, half smile, not quite knowing how to react to what she had just said.

Nikki, on the other hand, knew exactly how she wanted to react. “Oh! Oh, yes! Of course, you can be my friend too. That’s great!”

Rhea could only smirk at Nikki’s excited approach, her infectious personality hard to get away from.

“Oh! Can I give you a nickname?” Nikki continued. “Maybe like a superhero name! How about...?”

“The Nightmare is all the nickname I need. How about we stick with just Rhea for now?” Rhea told her, cutting her off. She wanted to be Nikki’s friend, but she drew the line at nicknames, especially of the superhero variety.

“Of course. It’s a lovely name.”

“Glad to hear. Now, I’m not gonna spend all night here. How’s about we head out and get something to eat?”

“Fine by me. What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m thinking... Chinese food.”

“I’m definitely ok with Chinese food. I’ll let you go and change and I’ll wait for you outside.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Rhea said smiling, her first genuine smile today.

Nikki then left the room, letting Rhea get on her with her stuff. Rhea sighed once she left. There was a part of her that wondered what the hell she was doing. She was the Nightmare. She wasn’t supposed to be friends with pretend superheroes. What would the Rhea at Wargames think of her now? But the other part realized that Rhea couldn’t be who she was anymore, at least not wholly. She needed to change, to move forward. RAW was a whole different beast than NXT. A lot tougher than she had expected. She couldn’t just go around doing what she wanted, she needed to be strategic about it. Sometimes the strategies involve befriending people, though if she was honest, this was more personal than tactic. She really did like Nikki and found her endearing. She had somehow melted the icy exterior she had put up, by simply being so infectiously happy all the time. But in all honesty, Rhea didn’t mind it being melted.

[deepdonutkid]

Gambling man

Warnings: swearing, smoking, drinking, dirty talk (starting soft here)

A/N: This is the first chapter of my newest series: Do you wanna touch ! There is also the summary of the story and the masterlist and the warning for the story as a whole. Have fun reading it and I hope you leave some love here!

There were no words to describe how annoyed he was. Why should he do something for Tommy after the regular work in the betting shop? John was tired and this was an understatement. He was nearly constantly yawning, rubbing his eyes and his head was aching. The kids kept him up all night. One wet the bed. This woke up the others. They wouldn’t go back to sleep that easily, of course and John was already half-dead when he arrived at work. And now he had to go to a swanky bar called “The mockingbird” to pick something up for this brother.

He didn’t even know what it was, but apparently it was expensive. Tommy was god-knows-where and John was sick of being his clown. It was always the same. ‘John do this’ or ‘John do that’ and he couldn’t escape it. Of course he tried, like a million times already. It has been like this since they were kids and even nowadays he couldn’t say no to his family.

After all, family was the most important thing in his life, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t complain while doing the dirty work again. At least he didn’t have to care about his kids for the rest of the night. Polly was watching them. He agreed with Tommy about that. It was his only condition. When the job was said and done, he wanted a good night sleep. John couldn’t remember his last peaceful night, maybe before the war or even before his wedding. He was still a child back then, but he doesn’t really miss this part of his life.

Back then they were poor kids with some knives, robbing some fellows to get some coins. When he was hungry he had to steal, because begging never has been his thing. Looking back wasn’t glorious. It was just sad and nothing more. Now he has the money for food, but nobody will cook for him. Martha died during the war, so when he finally came home, broken and shattered; he was all alone with no one to comfort him. Well, he had the kids, but they behaved just as bad as waifs and strays. They still did. Always jumping around, asking way too many questions, destroying everything that comes to their hands and John just needed a break.

Just one night, was all he was asking for.

But first he had to do his job. Then he could think of all the ways he could spend his free time. So he walked to the pub and grumbled. How fucking garish it looked! Everything was so nice and expensive and everyone acted like they were about humans. John gave a sniff about these posh fuckers. The look in his eyes was dismissive as he entered this fancy place.

Indoors it smelled like wine and cigars. Not bad, he thought as he glanced around. The place was light and warm and full of laughter. Golden ornaments everywhere, he noticed and shook his head about it. This was nothing he cared about. They wouldn’t even serve beer here.

John walked to the bar and ordered a whiskey, Irish of course. Then he waited at the counter, like Tommy had explained to him. A man would walk up to him and asking him how the weather was outside and regardless of the cloud free sky that night, John should answer: “It’s fookin pouring.” What a bloody drama was this anyway? Why he couldn’t pick up the package like a normal person? But with Tommy and his secret plans and all this bullshit he had no other way, but to do as he was commanded.

The Shelby drowned one glass and then next and then the next, still no contact in sight. For the glimpse of a moment he thought he had to wait all night for the man to come. After his fourth glass of whiskey a small man with a bowler, white stubbly hair and a curly moustache arrived. He had an umbrella with him and used it as walking stick. The way he walked looked almost cartoonish. John gave his best not to laugh about this codger, especially when he asked the question. “Oh, young boy, could you please tell me, how is the weather outside?” The voice of the strange man was croaking, which made the whole conversation even more farcical.

Now he really had to bit his lip, so he wouldn’t burst out in laughter. “It’s fooking pouring”, John chuckled and emptied his glass.

“Good”, the old man said: “Just as I expected. Now I don’t need the paper anymore. Take this.” He handed John a newspaper with something inside. John took it and put it in the inside of his jacket. The dossier was safe there.

Instead of saying thanks, John shouted to the bartender: “One drink for him and one for me.” The guy behind the bar rushed to them and poured another drink. John wasn’t drunk yet, but sooner or later the whiskey would do his work.

The job was a simple transaction, but his part of the deal wasn’t done yet. First he paid the barkeeper and waited for him to leave. Then he sat there awhile and drank there quietly. He still didn’t know how he should hand the money discretely… until the man asked: “Boy, please do me another favor. Lend me some money for the cab.”

This had to be a sign, he thought and pulled out a thick wad of money, which he slipped into the wrinkly hands of the geezer. “This would be more than enough. Farewell.” He muttered and stood up from his stool, ready to leave.

Just in this moment he realized nature was calling and he should do that, before walking into the cold night of Birmingham. So he took a little detour to the lavatories.

With steady steps he headed to the exit. One last time he turned around. There was something interesting about this place after all. In the back were four card tables. John liked to play, whenever he was at the garrison, but even if he left right away, the garrison would be closed as soon as he arrived in Small Heath. It was almost midnight by now, but John was now more drunk than tired and he though one or two rounds of cards couldn’t hurt.

So he walked towards the tables and studied them to pick the right one. On the first were just some posh greybeards, which weren’t interesting at all or at least not for John. The second was empty and on the third table were two Chinese men talking in their mother tongue. The last table caught his attention. There sat the croupier, a man with a scar across his face in his forties, a Spanish guy with gelled hair and a lady. She had her hair open, so the blonde locks would reach her tailbone. This seemed by far to be the most interesting table.

Without a second thought he sat down at table number four. The other players nodded slightly, when he arrived. The round wasn’t done yet, but the pot was full of chips and in the middle was a golden hair pin. Now he realized why the woman wore her hair open. She had used her pin as her stake.  

John decided to take a closer look at his fellow players. The two men were exactly what he thought they would be… greasy, compulsive gamblers. Nothing more to say.

But the lady… Well, there was something about her. John couldn’t point it out yet, but he was eager to find out. Everything from her golden shiny hair to that arrogant grin on face was capturing. She had a fierce look on her face as if she knew something everyone else didn’t. Every little detail like her dominant cheekbones or tilted chin seemed to add to the impression how privileged and entitled she was. Yet, she was quite charming in her pink dress. Her clothing seemed to be expensive, but it completed her appearance.

John was so caught by her presence; he didn’t recognized when the round ended. The other player with the scar and the hat folded, so she won. As she revealed her hand, her opponent groaned and slapped his fist on the table. Apparently she had nothing, but a good poker face. The Shelby was pretty impressed. He had played cards with some girls before, but none of them were really good at it. They just tried to flirt with him, while playing.

So he leaned closer to her and whispered: “Any luck today?” She gave him a dismissive glare and then collected her stake.

While she twirled her hair around and put the pin back in place, the croupier asked John, if he wants to join for the next round. He nodded, pulled some bills out of his pocket and gave it to the dealer. In return the dealer handed him some chips and started riffle the cards.

The man who just lost the last round stood up and left the table grunting. Then the lady declared in a dry tone: “At least more than him.” John let out a little laugh. Obviously she was funny too. He already took the bait and was curious to get more information about her.

The Shelby slid closer to her and smiled at her, but that didn’t seem to please her. “Don’t fucking look at my cards.” She growled, raising an eyebrow. John bit his lip, glaring at her with amusement. Then he noticed, he didn’t even check his hand, so he did that- a jack and a five- and then placed a bet.

After he had done that, he started staring again and couldn’t stop until she nagged: “What exactly do you want from me?” He chuckled. As if he would know that?

“Whatever you want to give me”, he grinned and leaned forwards as he tried to get in a more comfortable position on his chair. While talking he noticed her smell. It was a combination of roses, vanilla and oranges. What a great contrast to the people he usually talked to. He wanted to ensure, that this wasn’t an illusion, but sniffing on woman wasn’t a publicly accepted thing to do. Even he knew and heeded that.

With widened eyes she gazed back at him. “So… you want to get slapped?” she answered, with blank eyes. The woman was quite serious, but John couldn’t help but smirk at her. He liked her fervor.

John smothered to say a little delinquent ‘Maybe’ and placed another bet as it was his turn again. His cards weren’t the best, but he wanted to keep playing.

They played for a while. Then out of the blue the lady asked: “Should I take you silence as a yes? Or did you swallow your tongue?” He didn’t expect her to insist on an answer.

His hand scratched the back of his head as he searched for words to say. “No, I just…”

“Just what?” she interrupted him, before he could even finish his sentence. Now she seemed to sneer.

Her laugh made him laugh too. It was contagious and he always had a thing for fierce women. “I just want to know you name at least” he added.

“Does this matter?” she responded while fumbling with her chips: “Aren’t we here to play cards, ey?”

The Shelby nodded. She was probably right. He shouldn’t care about this, but yet he still had the desire to know more about this mysterious creature in front of him. “To the game… no” he murmured: “To me, yes.”

She looked down at her cards, as she raised the stake. He didn’t know, if she would ignore him again, so he introduced himself first: “I’m John.” He raised her by two more chips.

The blond groaned as if she was almost disappointed. Then in the next round she called and said with the most Russian accent he could imagine: “I’m Darja, but you can call me Dascha.” Now he was surprised again. He didn’t expect that. From first sight she didn’t seemed to be Russian… but who would have guessed he was Romani. They would have thrown him out, if they knew.

“It’s a pleasure” he nodded and waited for the other player at the table to end his turn. That slickly guy folded and now it was just the two of them in the game. John decided to call and as he placed another red casino chip in the pot he whispered to himself: “Dascha”

Her name was like a sweet melody to him and fitted her image as an entitled little madam. They moaned the loudest though, when they get a good fuck. The picture of them doing it in the lavatories wouldn’t leave his head as he peered into the distance. How he would shag her, grabbing her tiny little butt, while she begged for more.

This little though brought him unholy amounts of pleasure. With a grin on his face he finally arrived back in reality, just to notice that he should shut his cards down. She waited patiently and then showed her hand.

The two of them starred at the cards. He had won with just a three of a kind. That was luck indeed. She had a pair of queens.

“Seems like you’re lucky tonight”, she mumbled as she took a sip from a colorful drink.

His eyes widened from surprise and amusement. Grinning at her he asked: “Oh, is that so?”

The blonde woman clucked her tongue and gave him a dismissive stare. “Don’t get cocky after just one round.”

So the next round started. They played for a while. Sometimes she had won and sometimes he did.

Now his cards were even better than the last time. John had to bit his lip to hide his smile. Soon after he placed a bet, he got an idea. The guy on the other side of the table was nearly out of money and so it was clear it was a race between them now.

When the other guy reached his limit, John put three of his red chips in the middle of the table and said to the croupier: “Open a side pot, please.” Then he slowly turned to the woman. She hasn’t changed mimic or position, almost statuesque. There was still this mysterious smile on her face. But then she moved her hand to call.

“Shall we make this more interesting?”, he purposed and flicked a coin in his hands.

She glared at him for a while, completely silent, as if she tried to read his thoughts. Very quietly she hummed. John had to focus on the melody to even hear it, so it wouldn’t get lost in the surroundings. Finally she tilted her head and inquired: “What do you have in mind?”

It seemed like the Shelby had caught her interest as well and he was ready to play with her. John licked his lips and laughed. “Just a little bet. If I win this round, we’ll meet again… on a date.” He knew just too well, that if he mentioned something more sexual, this little lady would run away. But as his grandfather used to say, he had to think of the long game.

The Russian nodded. “But what if I win? What do I get? Do you even have something interesting for me?”

Now he was a little lost. He thought he’d never get this far. What could she want was the question in mind. Well, he couldn’t give up his pocket watch and he didn’t have anything else expensive with him. But on the other hand she seemed to be rich enough to deny his offer.

John was desperate, not completely, just a little. This might be his only chance with a woman like her. So he did what he could do best- be an arrogant asshole! He looked at her the whole time until he made his move. His eyes wandered from her to his manhood and then back to her. With a cocky smile on his face he underlined his wager.

And she burst out in laughter: “Hell no!” It took almost a minute until she calmed down again. She was still giggling like a five-year-old, when she added: “This is not going to happen, but I’m going to take your ring as a stake. So you’ll learn your lesson.”

At first he didn’t know what she meant. Then he looked at his hands. Like other Romani he wore at least five of them. Most were family heirloom, but his wedding ring wasn’t. All his other rings were luxuriant. His wedding ring was simple golden and had no ornaments like the others. Until now he had completely forgot about this. Of course he was still wearing it. He never took it off. Not during the war and not after Martha had died.

John had never questioned it, but now he had to. If he wasn’t so sure, he would win, he would have never agreed to this. It was a weird feeling to take it off, after all those years.  He turned the ring in his hand, still worried if he would get it back. Then he heard her giggle again. She felt confident, John wouldn’t cross this line, but because she was so convinced, he finally put the ring on the table. “Then teach me”, he grunted.

Once again it was time to turn the cards. His heartbeat was going crazy as his fingers reached for the two cards in front of him again. He flipped them as quickly as possible. There was no chance, she would win. John had a fucking flush on his hand.

He was watching her closely, as she played with one lose streak of her blond hair. One moment she was laughing, and then she hung her head. Suddenly he would realize the bittersweet nuance in her smile, as she had shown her cards. The Russian had lost again. “My luck ended, when you came to this table, I guess”, she mumbled.

On the other hand John couldn’t feel luckier. He took his bet back, put his ring back on and piled up his chips gleefully. “Oh, you shouldn’t be sad. You just won a date with me”, he joked knowing he was just rubbed salt in her wounds.

Amused he watched her as she pouted her lips. She stood up from her stool, stretched herself and declared: “I better get going, before I lose the rest of my dignity.” A nod to the croupier was enough to tell him to change the chips back into money.

John did the same, when he had put his money away, he ran after her. “Wait, darling”, he said under his breath: “You don’t get away this easily. You still owe me something… Let me walk you home, so I know where I can pick you up for our date.”

She chose to ignore him, so he grabbed her wrist to stop her from going away. Then she turned around to him and raised her eyebrow. “Do I?”, she asked: “I thought this was a joke or would you really gamble away your wedding ring? What would your wife say about this?”

Before he could even answer, she added: “I mean I feel very flattered by your attention, since you’re somehow good looking or whatever, but I don’t fuck married man.”

“Stop right there”, he replied: “Yes, I was serious and don’t bring my wife into this discussion. The date doesn’t mean we have to have sex… I mean it would be nice, but that’s not my point. I want to get to know you… and I won.” Somehow he couldn’t tell her the truth. He was a widower with four children and he didn’t want her to pity him. Actually that was the last thing he wanted right now. In his opinion it was better if she thought he was a married asshole, than a poor, sad widower.

With a straight face she wrest herself free, just to offer her arm, so he could link in. Her cheeks were gleaming red as she moaned: “Let’s just get out of here.” Gladly he would take her hand and guide her outside.

It was still warm outside and it would be one of the last pleasant evenings in Birmingham for the next time. Fall was coming soon and it would get way colder. Right now, he and the lady to his right could walk down the street without a coat. John was mentally prepared to give her his jacket, if she would need it, but she was silent as they left the nightclub.

“Why do you want to walk with me? I don’t live so far from here”, she asked and looked the other way.

It was so dark outside; he could barely see his own hands in front of him. Yet he knew that her face was still flushed with shame. His smile was undeniable. “Well”, he explained: “You don’t come from Birmingham and so you might not know, it’s a dangerous town for a woman like you.”

He could see the silhouette of her head nod. Then he heard her laughter. “And you are here to save me?”

Of course, it wasn’t his job to bring her home, but it felt like the right thing to do and after all, he wanted to spend more time with her. It was a weird thing, yes, since he had only known her for maybe an hour or less, but there was something about her, something captivating and he thought that eventually- if he could get to know her better- he could figure out why she was so fascinating to him. There was something in her eyes, something he had never seen before and he was keen to know, what it was. Or maybe he was just needy and an idiot to fall for the first pretty woman he had seen for months. After a while he answered: “Yes, I do.” His voice was soft, when he spoke, it sounded so unfamiliar.

“What make you think I need a savior?” was her next question. Somehow he got the idea, that she would never stop asking things. The way she said it seemed so innocent to him. He had seen war and violence en masse and he knew his city well enough to predict something bad, without having any second Romani sense like his aunt.

“Nah, I just think it’s better to be safe than to be sorry”, he responded and caressed her arm with his thumb. Usually he wasn’t so sweet, when it came to woman, but he still tried to charm her. And it somehow worked, at least she giggled again.

Then she joked: “So what? You’re going to heroically fight them off with your fists? Is this what you want me to believe?” Suddenly she stopped walking and just stood there, staring at him.

John chuckled and stopped as well. “No, I have a gun.” He didn’t want to scare her, so he just said it very calmly. And well, there was no need to show his Webley to her, right?

The Russian laughed even louder. Somehow she managed to say: “Excuse me… English is not my first language… Is gun another jargon for cock?”

Another time this would make him laugh as well, but now he thought she was not taking him seriously, which hurt his big male ego. After all, he was a goddamn Shelby, a King of Small Heath, a gangster or whatever people liked to call him… and yet the little lady in front of him was twitting about him.

So he opened his jacket and his gun shimmered in the light of the nearest lantern. “See? I’m not joking, honey”, he grunted. Others would fear him now, but she looked very unbothered right now. She wasn’t impressed or scared, she hid all her emotions beneath her brilliant poker face again.

They stood there in silence for quite a while. John wasn’t sure how to proceed and he was still waiting for her reaction.

All the sudden a big smile from one ear to the other was carved into her skin. Her eyes seemed so lost, like she wasn’t mentally here anymore, when she lifted her hand to his head, or to his cap to be precise. She snorted as she hovered with her finger over the edge of his flat cap. He was about to tell her about the razor blades he had sewn in there, when she presented the blood on her index finger. “You are one of these Peaky Blinders. Am I right, John?”

He felt caught, even though this wasn’t actually a secret. It was more like everybody knew who he was. So why couldn’t he say something now? All those words were stuck in his thought and he couldn’t break nor speak. His head was all blank and he still wanted to turn this conversation around. The only thing he could do was to nod.

“Good”, she whispered and came close to him: “I like when someone doesn’t play by the rules, because neither do I.” The Russian moved away and her cheek briefly brushed against his.  A shiver ran down his spine. Her voice was electrifying and he wanted her to moan his name over and over again.

She was so mean, when she teased him like this, but he couldn’t deny that this was appealing to him. “Fuck”, he groaned and put his hand on her waist to pull her closer. Now he could see her face in the light of street lantern again. To his pleasure he noticed that she seemed at least a little scared. “Following the rules is just so tiring and on top of that also boring. Why should I keep playing by the book, when is so much more fun, just to break some shit?” Under his fingertips he felt the fabric of her dress and how she trembled.

Just like he thought it was getting to cold for just a summer dress like hers. “Do you want my jacket?”, he offered with a smile and moved his hand to her cheek to caress it gently.

Slowly she shook her head and refused his kind gesture. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” They were still close and she hasn’t hurried away, which was a good sign for him.  He liked to feel her warm body against his. The last time he had felt something like this was so long ago.

A small, but very vulnerable smile graced his lips. “Dascha?” Calling her name like was oddly intense, but his heart jumped when she squeaked. He hadn’t imagine her to be so soft all the sudden as if she was melting in his hands. And the look in her eyes gave him the rest. It was like the world had stopped for a second. There was no sound, no other smell and no other visual sensation. Everything else became so blurry. Now there was just her. Maybe it wasn’t even his action, maybe the whiskey had made him to it, but he leaned in to kiss her.

Their lips met a lot sooner than he thought. John was so relieved, she didn’t push him away and seconds later he was surprised how soft and sweet her lips tasted. He couldn’t get enough of this. His hands were all on her body. Right now everything else that happened this night was irrelevant. This was worth all the stress. And he was glad, he had enough courage to do it.

Even when they parted, they were still strangers to each other, but John was sure he felt a connection. Heavily breathing he couldn’t take his eyes of her. She was still panting. Her lips were swollen and her whole face was heading a shade of red unknown to mankind, but fuck, she was beautiful.

“You stole a kiss from me?” It sounded more like statement than a question, but John nodded in agreement. Yes, he did that and he was so proud he did. It was the most interesting thing, that has happened to him in months and he would do it again, if he had to.

The blond bid her lip and moaned: “Now I have to steal it back.” He hadn’t even realized what she just said, when he felt her lips on his again. She had caught him in surprise and he got the idea how she must have felt, when he attacked her like this. It was rushed and yet perplexing good.

They only stopped, because the bell announced the next hour. She looked up at the sky as if she could she the clock tower from this dark alley. “I have to go now”, she explained: “But let’s meet here again next week. Same spot at eight.” Then she pointed above them. Only now he noticed they were standing at the corner of St. James and George Road.

“Can’t wait”, he replied and smiled. There was no point in asking her again, if he should walk her home. She seemed to be sure to go home alone. The Russian nodded and hurried away. He kept eying her until she disappeared behind the next corner. This whole encounter was so surreal.

On the way back home he thought about her and hoped he wouldn’t forget their next meeting. Now he just had to figure out, how he would convince Polly to take care of his kids. When he got home everything was silent. The kids were asleep and he would go straight to bed to. As he stumbled out of his clothes and into his bed, he still could feel the touch of her lips. Needless to say, he had a wonderful sleep that night.

tagging: @theshelbyclan​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @bonniesgoldengirl​

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Our Lady of the Underground || Morgan & Miriam

TIMING: Current/the Winter Solstice 

PARTIES: @meflemming & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan Beck, dead witch walking, gathers her final sacrifice.

CONTAINS: Violence, mentions of torture, death

Morgan tried trolling the Magic Circle for gossip about who was getting into dark shit and doing experiments they probably shouldn’t, but everyone was more curious about why she had stopped coming by Amity Row and why she wouldn’t take them up on their drink offers. So Morgan left it to chance, or fate.When the day came, she loitered around outside some other bar, her lonely act not much of one at all, and waited for someone to ask twice for her company. Somehow, he took all her grimacing and turning away as signs of just being nervous and offered to get some air outside with her before she could come up with a good excuse.

And now he was bound and gagged and unconscious before the Devil’s Gullet, which just went to prove you really shouldn’t follow women who invited you for a late night stroll in the woods after dark. Fog rolled in thick, obscuring the line between solid ground and bottomless pit and stifling the sound of any life around them. Even the rest of the air felt suspended, hiding. Morgan tucked her jacket sleeves into the rubber kitchen gloves she put on to search pockets for anything dangerous or distinct enough to get them caught, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, except for some runestones and a tarot deck. Not enough to prove spellcaster one way or the other. Miriam would have to be okay with a certain level of ambiguity when it came to their mark; they both would. The maybe-spellcaster guy twitched, groaning, and Morgan jumped back. She knew they needed him awake if they were supposed to get any paint out of the situation, but that didn’t mean it was her preference. She cast a furtive glance Miriam’s way. Was this how things were supposed to go? Was she doing it right?

Taking in Morgan’s caution and overall appearance of being uncomfortable, Miriam made sure to appear steady, confident. And, truthfully? She was. This was her element, just as much as the leather shop was. They were in a good location for body disposal, the Gullet being a location she’d used frequently years ago on the occasions that she hadn’t wanted bodies immediately found. It would certainly serve their purpose well. Miriam had waited to feed a few days just for this, and she was starved. It didn’t help that her fangs had been coming out at random times. She figured that it had something to with the hunger, but it was curious, and more than a little annoying. She wanted this done as quickly and effectively as possible. So she pinned her curls up in a bun, put on a pair of gloves, and pulled her skinning knife out of her pocket. As the man started stirring, and Morgan cast a look in her direction, Miriam gave the small zombie a nod and walked up to the man, an easy, lopsided smile on her face. She patted him on the cheek gently. “Wake up, sweetness. Join us in the land of the living, won’t you?” Though, looking at Morgan and then realizing she was talking around a mouth full of fangs, Miriam rectified her statement. “Well, semi-living. Come on, now, eyes open. Let’s talk.” She ran the knife along his jawline, drawing out a thin line of blood. Best not to wait.

If Morgan just looked at the guy without looking at him, as if he were a set piece, or part of the atmospheric scenery. On your left, observe the ashy remnants of bone and suspiciously stained rocks. Further back, the creepy mist gets a little thick and likes to take the shape of malevolent spectres, and in the center, a human vessel for ritual bloodletting! Morgan took out her own knife and her Nalgene, unscrewing the lid and looking for an easy place to make this go quick, well, quickly enough. Not enough pain, then they’d just have to hurt someone else, and that wasn’t something she really wanted to put out into the world. She had made it this far without needing a do-over. She could get to the finish line and hand the blood to her exorcist and have something to show for these last four months.

The maybe-caster grunted with pain, starting to life. He looked around him wildly, straining his arms and screaming through his gag. Morgan looked around them and saw nothing and no one from one end of the mist to the other. “It’s okay to struggle,” she said gently. “The more the better. You should try to exert as much influence as you can over your situation. It will irritate your injuries, which is good for my purposes, but it might minimize the severity of any PTSD you develop after this too.”

He looked at her, shouting muffled cries of confusion and anger.

“I would prefer it if you survived this, but that’s going to depend on what kind of influence you try to exert. Please bear that in mind.” This would be the part where she made a cut, like a spigot into a tree, and let the material flow. But the man thrashed and Morgan, for all her practice with animals, struggled to make her incision so easily. Instead she came around behind him and wrapped her arms around, squeezing him with her full strength. She looked to Miriam for guidance again and nodded toward her Nalgene. “Please don’t waste anything,” she mumbled.

Watching impassively as Morgan talked to the man, Miriam stepped up again when Morgan moved behind him. “I’ve done this quite a bit,” she said, an easiness in her voice that didn’t match the intensity in her crimson eyes as she stared at the man. “Relax, darling.” She glanced at Morgan, then back at the man, smiling at him with sharp teeth. “Not you, darling. I don’t think you’re going to be able to relax much for this.” She got in the man’s face, pulling the deck of tarot cards out of his pocket. “This.” She threw them into the pit. “This is why you’re here. And for whatever she needs you for. You serve some purpose to her, at least. For me, you’re just a meal.” Then she grabbed the container that Morgan had brought and her knife, and she set to work.

According to Miriam’s research, back when she’d first realized the more pain meant that she was better fed for longer, the Chinese had perfected an art of torture called lingchi, or slow slicing. Some called it a death by a thousand cuts. It wasn’t dissimilar to flaying, and, the way she did it, it wasn’t as messy as skinning, though there was still quite a bit of mess that came with bleeding a person out. Miriam set to it, creating shallow incisions designed to elicit pain, starting on the man’s right arm. The wounds began to bleed, slowly, and the man began to scream against the pain of it. This would certainly be blood brought by suffering, Miriam thought, and the man was miserable, too, his pain and misery almost as familiar as blood on her tongue.

Morgan tried to shut her ears to the muffled cries of agony from the man in her arms. This was not going to be the first body she’d ever made, and for all she knew this guy who didn’t take the first ‘no’ for an answer had done something as bad as Cece’s coven friend to deserve being here. Maybe he’d earned this and she just didn’t know it.

Slowly, Morgan’s fingers grew slick with blood. Most was dripping into the Nalgene (slowly, so fucking slowly), but Morgan could sense it in how much more effort she had to put into holding him still. She’d encouraged struggle, encouraged anything to make this a little less terrible, but this was the price of torture. There was no room for mercy. No room for kindness. Miriam’s knife cut right through any ideas like that, shredding them along with the man’s skin. His cries grew throaty and desperate. He thrashed, messing Miriam’s handiwork, and groped blindly at Morgan’s clothes, like he could pull her into doing something different. “Y-you’re...you’re doing good…” she said faintly. This only made him scream louder, and it finally occurred to Morgan that all the affirmations in the world wouldn’t change what this must be like for him.

The phone rang in a short burst of sound: some anime sound effect Morgan vaguely recognized from Skylar’s recommendations but couldn’t place. She was sure she’d put it on silent when she took it, but apparently. “Shit, shit, shit...sorry…” She prised one bloody hand off the man’s anguished body and fished out the device. It was just some girl asking “u up?” And yet Morgan couldn’t help but stare at the lit up screen. There was a picture of a happy looking golden retriever being hugged by a kid in overalls on the lock screen, too messy to be a stock photo. Both of them couldn’t be his, right? “Mim, how much longer?” She asked, words wavering in her throat.

The poor bastard was quite miserable, as Miriam slowly sliced off pieces of his flesh and cut into him, but she still wasn’t satisfied. Not yet. It was a slow process, an agonizing process for both him and her, though she’d walk away from this encounter feeling full and sated, a smile on her lips. “Not much longer,” she told Morgan, the container filling up. She licked a bit of blood off the knife, grinning as the man in front of her whimpered. She set back to work. There was no need to take hours, and she could tell Morgan was probably getting uncomfortable with all of this blood and gore. Despite the name, slow slicing wasn’t a particularly long process. She only needed about half an hour, though she preferred longer, occasionally chatting and breaking bones. Not this time though. The man’s screams turned into whimpers, short, wretched little sounds in the back of his throat. Miriam didn’t know how a blood sacrifice was supposed to work, didn’t know if he was supposed to be louder for the full effect or whatever. She wasn’t the witch, wasn’t the one with the intimate know-how on all of this. Personally, she thought he could beg a bit, be a little louder. “There’s no one to hear you,” she told him, gently, next to his ear. “There’s no one that cares. So, please, by all means, continue screaming.”

The phone kept lighting up. There was no more weird anime sound to remind Morgan of Skylar or her dead student, who had at least been popular enough for the school club to turn out for her and make some memorial art of her as some magical girl character. But there was still the dog, dopey and excited and probably going to get shipped off to the pound after it had wandered the house going hungry, waiting for someone to come home that never would. The kid, definitely-definitely-definitely not his, but still tiny and happy and if this guy loved them enough to put them on his screen, they had to be important. And there was a group chat talking about a videogame release, a request for help with a calculus program on a tutoring app. And Morgan thought of the kids at Maxine Johnson’s funeral, and that clearing in the woods where she had begged that wolf to spare Deirdre, Ariana trembling her arms, the witch screaming in Cece’s house, the anguish on Deirdre’s face as she staggered home after a fucking week. The guy finally thrashed hard enough to get his gag loose, or looser, and he let out a scream that sounded so much like Morgan’s own. “Fucking fuck…” she whispered. The knife just cut deeper, scoring more holes into the universe, more loss. Nothing redistributed or balanced, it just spread, taking more and more, giving less and less.

“Stop!” Morgan’s hand shot out to Miriam’s wrist and pushed it away. “We need to stop now. You have to be full, he’s been screaming forever, this has to be over a-and this is...it’s done. This isn’t helping anything and it’s finished.” Her grip tightened. It was the only thing steady about her.

There wasn’t any enjoyment coming out of this, and she’d nearly been done, almost been willing to let this man and his annoying phone and his incessant whining leave with nothing more than a few bad feelings and some terrible scars, but Miriam still felt slighted at being told to stop. Stop, as if she had no self-control. Stop, as if she was a child to be scolded, being physically held back. This was a new low, even for Morgan. For all of her holier-than-thou attitude, she’d still agreed to Miriam’s help, had known going into this that it was just as much about Miriam getting a meal as it was about Morgan getting her blood sacrifice. And she’d commanded Miriam to stop? Put her hands on her in an attempt to make her. Miriam felt something inside her tighten and tighten and tighten as she looked down at the smaller woman, her teeth gritted. Something snapped, and Miriam relaxed.

Then, with her free hand, Miriam gripped the man by the shirt, pulled him close, and ripped his throat out with her teeth. Grin bloody, she shoved the container of blood towards Morgan, though she was controlled enough in her movements not to spill it. “There,” she said. “No more screaming. All done, sweetness.” She smacked her lips but didn’t wipe away the smear of blood that lingered on her chin. Miriam pulled herself away from Morgan and set about cleaning her knife, taking the gloves off of her hands and preparing to dispose of them.

“NO!” Morgan screamed and pulled the man back, but it was too late. Miriam bit, and his body flopped back, bleeding and lifeless. “What the fuck! That’s not what I wanted, that’s not--he would’ve been fine! I said stop to let him go, not to--! He didn’t even DO anything! He was no one! Tarot cards are just glorified mind tricks! Fucking---” Morgan’s screams broke with sobs. The mess of his throat was all over her hands now and Morgan couldn’t stand it. She got out from under him and edged away. She shook off as much as she could, but the blood stuck to her hands and made a home in her nail beds. “Fucking universe, I changed my mind, that’s it! Why couldn’t you…” Listen. Or see; see anything besides her own pain and want. But Morgan wasn’t even sure Miriam could see her right now. She was polishing her knife, like cutlery was really the thing that mattered right now. Morgan’s voice tapered off, shattering between horror and disbelief.

“Well, now he’s certainly no one at all, is he?” Miriam mused, though she swallowed hard, refused to look at Morgan at all. This was no place for regrets. She was not one to feel regrets. If she did, they would crash down around her so brilliantly, and she’d never get up again. She’d sooner be able to rip out her own throat than allow that to happen. “You’ll want to make sure the body goes over the side, and make sure there’s nothing plastic on him.” She looked over to the body. “Or I’ll do it myself, actually.” She finally looked at Morgan, scowling at the expression on the zombie’s face and refusing to let it feel small. She hadn’t buckled under the woman’s scolding before, and she wouldn’t do it this time, either. “I didn’t change my mind, and I wasn’t finished. That’s simply the way things are, sometimes. You got your blood. I got my meal. I think that both of us came out on top in this situation.” Certainly much better than him, she thought but didn’t say as she looked at the dead man on the ground.

“That’s not how things are! You don’t get to say that about something you did!” Morgan screamed. She pulled on Miriam, trying to make her look at her. She reached up and held her face, blood smearing all over it as she tried to get a grip. “You have choices, Mim! You have fucking choices. We all have choices! We don’t have to be like this, it’s too fucked. Look at me--no, really look at me Miriam and tell me that wasn’t so fucked and you don’t feel one bit better! Maybe you’re full, but better? Really?” She could barely see her for the tears streaming down her face. She’d waited too long to figure this out, and Miriam needed to eat no matter what, but this was reckless, this was just more unfairness and aching. Someone was going to miss that man and go looking and ache, wondering, and they’d never know that Morgan was the reason behind the worst day of their life and it would all just keep spreading. “Tell me you can feel how wrong this is.”

“That is exactly how things are, and if you’re foolish enough to not see that, then open your fucking eyes, Morgan!” Miriam snarled. She tried to pull away, but the little zombie was like a damn vice, forcing her to look and see. She did not want to. She did not care to. “I made a choice. A rash one, certainly, but it was my choice, and I stand by it. I do.” She looked Morgan in the eyes, red meeting blue like a clear warning sign. Did she feel better? No, not really, not much at all, but she’d never admit that, never give Morgan the satisfaction that she was spot on. If Morgan hadn’t pushed her, if she hadn’t literally grabbed her and forced Miriam’s hand, things might be different. She forced herself not to look away at the tears streaming down Morgan’s face, steadied her resolve and her feelings, her anger and her rage. She was angry that Morgan tried to stop her. She was upset over the thought that Morgan didn’t think she could stop herself. “None of that matters. It’s done now. I made a choice. It’s done now.”

“Because why!” Morgan demanded. “Because of your pride? Because I’m the one saying it? Because then you would actually have to do something different instead of just being so fucking scared? You are so terrified that things could be different, because it would mean you and everyone else has suffered for no good reason and it really was as shitty as it felt this whole time!” Her voice snapped and she cried again, though she no longer knew for who. “You could’ve stopped. We could’ve had someone do a memory charm, do something, so he wouldn’t tell about what happened. He could’ve been okay if you’d just stopped, Miriam…” Her hands fell and she backed away from the whole mess. “I really thought you were better than this.” But maybe she wasn’t. And hadn’t Miriam tried to tell her so this whole time. “Keep the blood,” she whispered. “I don’t want it. I need to fix something about this mess…”

“I am not scared!” Miriam screamed back, avoiding the questions because they did scare her. “Any part left of me that had anything to fear died before my heart even stopped. I’m not scared! I have never been scared.” She gritted her teeth so hard that the taste of blood in her mouth was less of that man’s and more of her own, the dead taste of it unsatisfying and bitter on her tongue. She felt prickles of tears in her own eyes, but she blinked them away, swallowed the taste of her own blood like bile. She would not cry. She wouldn’t. “But I didn’t. I didn’t, and playing around with what ifs and should haves and could haves does no one any good at all, darling. It simply doesn’t do any good.” She choked back a laugh. “I have been trying, so hard, to get you to see that I am, in fact, not better than these. I can’t be! I’m incapable!” She looked down at the container, disgusted with it and everything that it represented. She wasn’t disgusted with herself, though. No, she was not disgusted with herself. “I don’t want the fuckng blood, either. It was gotten for you.” She couldn’t imagine it’d taste alright, either. The man’s blood had turned sour the second it entered her mouth. She didn’t want it.

“Everyone is scared, you complete dumbass!” Morgan cried. She kicked the Nalgene over, letting the blood spill into the grass and drip down the sides of the hole in the earth. “But fine, you don’t want it--” She kicked it again. “There you go. Keep the bottle for the next time you get miserable.” She stood still, hands flexed. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to do to Miriam, if she could shake more sense into her, fight her, or wipe the tears building so clearly in her eyes. But the exorcist was due in town tomorrow, and she needed to solve Constance another way before then. “You’re only incapable right now because you’re a fucking coward. But you know what? Mission accomplished! You win! You’re a monster and a liar, but it’s not because of the magic boogeyman universe that made you. It’s just you. Alone.” She stalked off into the trees, wiping the blood on her jeans and fumbling for her phone. She’d already ruined one person’s life, but maybe there was time to save Constance and whatever was left of herself.

“Fuck you!” Miriam screamed after Morgan’s receding figure, but there was little fight in it, nothing more than the petulant words of a child that she so desperately tried not to be. Because that’s all she was, wasn’t it? A child, one that found out the boy who teased her on the playground really was only teasing her and not simply pulling her pigtails because he liked her. She was a child, one that threw a fit every time she didn’t get her way. She was-- No, she was stronger than this, better than this, and she wouldn’t be reduced to anything less than she was by one tiny zombie who couldn’t keep her nose and her wretched moral compass out of other people’s lives. Miriam shook her head harshly, closing her eyes, not even realizing that tears were running down them and making rivets in the blood on her cheeks as she did. She thought about just kicking the bottle into the fucking hole, consequences be damned, but she didn’t. Instead, she continued cleaning up the mess. Determined not to get herself or Morgan caught. She didn’t watch the body disappear over the edge, just picked up the phone from where it had fallen out of the man’s pocket. There was a dog on the screen, a few messages. Miriam felt a pang in her chest and picked up a tarot card as well, stuffing them both in her pocket. She wiped away a few tears, sure that Theo was laughing at her in whatever corner of hell he’d slithered off to. In the distance, she could see eyes watching her. Fucking Wildes. “Do you like the mess I’ve made of myself?” she muttered, and, everything cleaned and packed up, she walked away.

[scalpel-mom-mori]

The Colors of Yukichi Fukuzawa

It was so long ago that only a few even remember it, but at one time, Fukuzawa too was an angry young man.

This was supposed to be funny, I’m sorry. It just kind of turned into angst there at the end, oops.

Based on this post, submitted by Aure. Dedicated to @sword-dad-fukuzawa

Slight AU where Fukuzawa and Mori went to high school together lol. Did I steal Aure’s storytelling POV? Yes I did. Reblogs and comments highly encouraged.

POV you’re modern!smol dazoo from Temple on a Hill that asked Sensei for a bedtime story.

Oh? A story? Well, I don’t have any stories I should really be telling to someone your age. Especially right before bed.

No, I take that back. I do have one. Just one, so it’s the only one I’ll ever tell.

This was at least twenty years ago, maybe more, but I remember it well. I nearly had a heart attack when Yukichi started dyeing his hair. Even at that age, he looked like an old man in some ways, what with that grey hair. Even at this age, he moves like a much younger man, the likes of which I never could approach. He’s just timeless like that.

But that day I couldn’t quite be sure if it was truly Yukichi that I was looking at. He wore his hair in a high ponytail when we were in high school, and he arrived at our usual meeting place with acid green highlights beneath his ponytail.

“They’re hideous,” I told him. He didn’t mind.

It might not seem like it, but Yukichi was an angry man in his youth. He was the sort of person that was angry with the world. To this day, his soul rails against injustice, but he wears a well-respected face.

“You don’t have to like them,” is what he told me. “Where are we having brunch?”

I could have laughed. “You’re not even wearing your uniform today.”

He shrugged. “Why should I tell them who to report me to?”

At this, I really did laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” You know what he’s like these days, with those intense, inscrutable stares. You’re still quite intimidated by him. His eyes were just as intense back then, but they burned with something like passion.

One of these stares he levelled at me. Back then, I was nowhere near as accustomed to those stares. Yukichi doesn’t look at someone he’s speaking to unless he’s very close with them or very displeased. “What does that mean?” The longer you know Yukichi, the less he expresses himself. Back then, anyone walking past would know my friend was upset with me.

“I just thought you liked a nice veneer of respectability,” I said.

The disgust in his face said clearly what his voice did not. Such deception is your forte.

Perhaps it is, but that’s nothing to worry yourself over. I assure you, in our high school days, Yukichi and I were both as fresh and green as any high school boys can be.

“Of course. You look good, if you didn’t look like you were going to go murder someone,” I amended. “How does Chinese sound?”

Yukichi, I will take care to note, was also quite sulky while we were in school.

Though, perhaps all boys are at that age.

Still, he expressed no additional offense besides over the comment about murdering someone.

Over our meal, I found myself amused over how he drank tea like an old man. “Truly, how do you convince me to ditch with you?” I asked.

As if to cover up any face he would have made at me, he picked up his steaming cup and drank. I continued staring at him, long after he set his drink down and began eating.

But Yukichi was as stubborn as he is now. Perhaps even more so.

“You know there’s no longer enough time,” is all he says.

Even then, I knew what he meant. Already in our second year, there would never again be enough time for everything we wanted to do anymore, and Yukichi… well, he already had his career lined up for him. The first part of it, anyway.

I frowned, half-teasing. “Well, I need to study hard to get into the medicine program,” I replied, “and skipping classes doesn’t help that.”

Yukichi’s eyes felt like a whole sky on my chest. “Then go,” he said.

I have to admit, I was rather hurt, but Yukichi was never one to mince words. Nor was he one, in our youth, to speak with much tact. But there was some cunning in that statement. And I let him have it.

“I didn’t mean that,” I told him quickly, “And I know you didn’t either.”

Yukichi’s eyes slid away from me, back to his food.

Yes, he did mean that. If I wanted to, I could leave him to self-destruct under the weight of his future. But he and I both knew that I wouldn’t.

The next time I saw him, the streaks were purple. A rather pleasant shade, too. Rather odd with his particular coloring, but at least it didn’t burn to look at. He’d tied his hair in something of a messy bun, and had a pen sticking out of it, rather like one of those ladies you see painted on silk screens.

“What does the maiden require of me today?” I asked with a mocking bow. Yukichi looked annoyed, but didn’t argue.

“Lunch. You’re paying.” I suppose I brought that one on myself.

I made a face. “You say such things with a straight face,” I complained. “Only if you wear a hairpin.”

However, today, Yukichi had the face to agree without hesitation.

The nerve of him! It vexes me to this day. It certainly didn’t help that he was tall enough that most wouldn’t notice the thing unless they were looking, and no one looks Fukuzawa Yukichi in the eye. Not even back then.

Well, I do, but that’s a different matter altogether.

So we bought a hairpin from a shop that sold trinkets for pocket change. Yukichi somehow kept a straight face when the clerk wished my girlfriend and me a happy relationship. I could barely manage the same. Despite the fact that Yukichi had probably killed a man by this point in life, I couldn’t help but be amused by the thought.

With a perfectly serious expression, he tucked it in his hair and turned to me. “It’s not crooked, is it?”

I pouted, knowing full well that this was his way of asserting, as he did without fail at that time, that he was taller than me by nearly a head. “Well, I can’t tell from this angle.”

So, maintaining his neutral face, he crouched so I could see. This was the last straw. “Oh, the nerve of you! It’s fine!” I shouted, nearing tears. This man was willing to play this far to humiliate me. But, I should have known at the time that Yukichi saw no shame in femininity.

I still had to buy today, and Yukichi decided to thin out my wallet with fast food and the nicest bakery he had the nerve to suggest to me.

Ah, but only for him would I have ever suffered such humiliation. These days, he wouldn’t subject me to them. Only to frown at me disapprovingly, as though he has some moral high ground.

And I suppose he does, these days.

He grew out of being an angry young man.

The last time I saw him before he went underground, he had a shock of red in his bangs. I was well into preparing for premed at the time, and had little energy to argue with him, but something else kept even me from teasing him about the color. In those two years, he’d worn every imaginable color besides red. He hated red, so it was rather curious that he would pick it for his hair. He wore his hair half up to keep it out of his face.

He was dressed in his usual traditional attire, but he carried a sword now. It was Christmas, after we had graduated, and he had aged a decade.

His hair had always made him look older than he was, even now. He looked younger with the splashes of color to soften the grey. But it was his eyes this time. They were tired, and one hand rested lightly on the handle of his weapon the whole walk. We spoke very little, absent of all the teasing we did during school. But, it wasn’t all bad. This was what he wanted anyway. Almost nineteen, and he had a despair in his face that men three times his age rarely knew. Still, we went to that bakery he loved when we were in school. I bought him his favorite pastry from memory, and this seemed to soften the weight in his heart.

Very little was said the whole time we ate.

Yukichi always left abruptly. He does still, as I’m sure you know. Still, there are usually signs. Today, he licked one finger and stood. He was almost out of earshot by the time I had realized what happened. “Keep in touch!” I called after him.

I could have sworn I heard, carried by the wind one word. “Can’t.”

Another two steps, another two footprints between us, and from the half bun on the back of his head, the little flowered hairpin I’d bought him caught the light through the dull snow-grey world.

[holdin-out-for-a-hero]

Rookie- Leon Kennedy x Reader Chapter 12

Words: 2505

Warnings: None

A/N: one more chapter after this, and then I’m going straight to Carlos!

Why couldn't it just die?

You watched in horror as the mass of flesh and bone grew rapidly throughout the train car. In the center of it all was a big, irritated eye. An eye that you've seen all night. It had a Medusa effect, freezing you in place once it looked at you. William Birkin...

You pulled out your gun, though you didn't think bullets would do much for this creature. Not after all the bullets it had already endured throughout the night; the thing was practically indestructible. Still, you had to do something, so you shot at it anyway. Maybe you could slow down its growth while you thought of a plan. At least you hoped that would work. Leon began shooting too, but the creature hardly reacted. Instead, it continued to grow until it had you and Leon stuck at the front of the car. You knew you were in trouble, and there was only one option: lose the car.

"Y/N, Leon, we've got to disconnect the car!" Claire shouted over the deafening chaos. It seemed she was way ahead of you.

"Go help her. I'll cover you!" You shouted to Leon. Your voice could barely be heard over the sound of the gunshots.

"Are you sure you've got this?" He yelled back.

"Of course I do! Go!" Your confidence was fake, but he didn't need to know that. You just needed him a little closer to safety.

He turned around, working with Claire to unfasten the hooks between the two cars.

William was growing closer and closer now, and your gun was no defense. Any second now it would reach you and your friends. This better not be the end, you thought. Not after everything else you've survived.

"Can you hurry?" You shouted at them as you rushed to reload your gun. Maybe these next few bullets would work, you thought, even though you knew they wouldn't.

"We're almost done!" Claire shouted back. She and Leon were so close to disconnecting the car. Any moment now...

And then it was done.

The next few seconds went by so quickly it was a miracle you survived.

"Y/N!" She shouted.

You turned around and jumped from your car, eyes widening in horror as you saw the train tracks below you.

You weren't going to make it.

Then, a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the train. You were wrapped in someone's arms, face pressed into their chest. It was Leon. He was still breathing heavy, and it made you aware of your own racing heart.

It must have been the heat of the moment, or maybe the adrenaline, because you did something you never dreamed of actually doing. Without much thought, you grabbed Leon by his collar and kissed him. On the lips. Oh, if Marvin could see you now.

This kiss was quick, and you pulled back to see his expression. For a moment, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and dread replaced the bubbly feeling in your stomach. But then he smiled that same stupid smile you fell in love with, before pulling you back in for another, longer kiss. You couldn't help the corners of your lips turning upward as well. Because deep down, you had been wanting this all night. You finally pulled away, out of breath again.

"Took you long enough," Leon finally said, the stupid grin still growing on his face.

"Oh shut up," you replied, looking away. There you met eyes with Claire and Sherry. You forgot they were here... how awkward. Claire gave you a sheepish smile while Sherry covered her mouth to keep from giggling.

The tension eased away slowly as Sherry and Claire moved toward the front of the car to talk. You sat down on the floor of the train. Oh, it felt so nice to finally sit down. You've been on your feet almost the whole week, and now you could finally rest. Leon sat down next to you, and you debated whether or not to rest your head up on his shoulder. Would that be too much? Were you moving too fast? You never thought you would get this far in a relationship in one night, but hey, stranger things have happened. You literally just survived an apocalypse, maybe this relationship wasn't so crazy. Still, you didn't dare put your head on his shoulder.

The two of you fell into silence. The steady, repetitive sounds of the train filled air instead. It nearly put Leon to sleep, but to you it only fueled your thoughts. You thought back to just before the outbreak started, when all of your fellow officers were still among the living. They were hanging decorations to welcome Leon. The buzz in the precinct brought life to even the most jaded cops, for they were all so excited to meet him. If only the could've...

You remembered that you had promised to tell Leon about them once you were safe. And seeing as there was no immediate danger, maybe this would be a good time. You pulled out your wallet from your back pocket. There was a folded up picture stuffed into one of the card slots, which you unfolded and looked at. It was a picture of you on your first day, with all of the officers in the back. You smiled at the image.

"Leon," you nudged him, unknowingly startling him awake. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were asleep." It took him a moment to reply.

"No. It's fine. What did you want?"

"It can wait," you said sheepishly, folding the picture back up.

"But it doesn't have to. What is that?" He motioned toward the picture.

"Oh," you laughed, tucking your hair behind your ear, "I was gonna tell you about the officers, like I said I would earlier."

"I'd like that"

Who were you gonna start with? This was probably a bad idea, seeing as most of them were dead or M.I.A. Could you keep calm talking about them? Or even thinking about them? Maybe this wound was too fresh. But then Leon pointed to someone in the picture.

"Tell me more about him," he said. His finger just below Elliot's face. You remembered that Leon had seen him die, you could understand why he would be curious about the officer.

"That's Elliot," you began, "On my first day, he brought me Chinese take-out." You smiled, looking back at the memory. You tried focusing on the good memories with them instead of, well, anything that had happened in the last week.

"Sounds like a nice guy," Leon added. You laughed.

"Oh, you didn't know him like I did. He could be nice, but he was more like a mean older brother. He loved to prank me. If none of..." you trailed off "if none of this had happened, he would've have fun with you too."

"It's a shame," Leon said under his breath. He was right, you thought; it really was.

"This is David," you pointed to another face, "He had daughters my age, so I could get him to do anything I wanted," your smile faded, "We lost him the day before you came."

Leon looked up from the picture to you, eyes full of concern. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you a little closer to him.

Your eyes met a face in the very back, a young man was walking through the back of the office, oblivious of the photo being taken. It was Chris, Claire's brother.

"Hey Claire," you began "Come take a look at this."

The girl walked over to where you and Leon were sitting, Sherry behind her. She crouched down in front of you, and you handed her the picture. Her eyes scanned the picture multiple times before lighting up at the sight of her brother

"That's Chris!" She said, squinting at the image.

"He's safe, He's somewhere in Europe right now," you told her.

"I know. I found a letter from him in the station but it didn't sound like him. You’d think he’d have told me about leaving the country. There's something up, I just know it," she sighed, "It's always been just me and him, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him."

"I know your brother, He knows how to handle himself. I'm sure he's fine," you tried to reassure her, "but I know how you feel.”

“Do you really?” Claire said. She didn’t mean to sound so rude, but it slipped out before she could stop it.

“I have a brother too, he’s all that I have left. He’s a freshman in college a couple states away. I tried to convince him to stay in Raccoon city and attend a local college instead. Now that I think about it, that could've killed him.”

"You're an orphan too?" She asked.

"I'm afraid so," you began, "My parents lived in Raccoon city, too, and when this whole thing started, they never came to the station."

"How do you know they didn't leave the city? they could've evacuated, they might still be alive,” Leon spoke up.

"I know my parents, they knew I would be at the station. They would've done everything in their power to get there.” An uncomfortable silence settled between the four of you, and you suddenly regretted sharing.

"I'm gonna need a lot of therapy after this," you joked, hoping to change the subject. Leon and Claire both laughed.

"Me too. Maybe there'll be a Raccoon city support group or something,” Claire added.

"Zombie apocalypse survivor group therapy,” Leon said, smiling.

“Seriously though, we’ve got to stick together for now on,” you said, looking the three of them in the eye. Leon nodded, but Claire looked away.

Eventually, the train's path came to an end and all four of you got off. Then, you started walking the long road ahead. It was daylight now, and the sun was beaming down on you. The walk was mostly in silence, as the four of you were so tired that conversation just didn’t flow as easily as it did earlier. That was until Sherry spoke up.

"So are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend?" She asked. You froze in place. Leon turned around to look at the girl.

"Sherry!" Claire laughed in surprise, putting her hand on the girl's shoulder.

"Well uh... we're not sure just yet," Leon said to her.

"But you kissed earlier."

"That's true, but uh..."

"We just met yesterday, actually," you added. You could feel the heat across your cheeks get worse when you glanced up at Leon, who was already looking at you.

"But you two like each other, don't you?" She asked, leaving you and Leon in an awkward silence.

"I do, at least," Leon said, looking over to you, "And I have a feeling you feel the same way."

"Yeah," you said, looking anywhere but their eyes. Gosh, this was so embarrassing.

"If you like each other, then you should be girlfriend and boyfriend. It's not that complicated..." Sherry said. Oh, if only the world was that simple.

"You're right, Sherry," Leon laughed, "We adults tend to over complicate things." He cocked a brow at you, and you rolled your eyes at him. Still, you couldn't help a small smile from peaking through.

Eventually, the road you traveled led to a gas station and across from it, a motel. Leon let out a sigh of relief when he saw the two buildings, for he was exhausted from the long walk under an unforgiving sun.

"Does anyone have any money?" You asked, hoping not to be the only one to have this financial responsibility. Leon and Claire stopped in their tracks, making Sherry look back at them in confusion.

"My wallet's in my car" Leon realized.

"At the gas station...." Claire joined.

"This gas station? What are you talking about?" You replied.

"No, there was a gas station on the outskirts of the city. We met each other there." Leon said.

"So none of us have any money?" Claire deadpanned. "We're screwed."

"I have money," you said, “Not a lot, though, I only have a cop’s salary.”

"Don't worry, I'll pay you back." Leon said.

"No, You don't have to. I was just being dramatic, I can afford it."

So the four of you grabbed all the hygiene supplies and food that you needed from the gas station and racked up a rather scary bill. Thank God you thought to keep your wallet throughout all of this chaos. There were so many times where you considered dropping it for more room or tossing it a zombie's head.

The four of you headed to the motel across the street. Leon held open the door to the lobby, letting the rest of you file in. You couldn't help but think it was really hot when he did that. Why are basic manners so sexy?

Inside the lobby was a woman taking a phone call. She caught sight of all of you and froze.

The woman dropped the phone back onto its reciever. You knew why. Walking into a motel lobby with bruises, bullet wounds, and bite marks, you were bound to get a response. She stared at you for a moment, eyes wide.

"Can we have a room?" You asked the woman. She stayed in her trance, looking from you, to Leon, then Claire, and then Sherry.

"Ma'am?" Leon asked. She jumped, stuttering and pulling out the guest book.

"Uh-uh-of course!" She spluttered, pitting on a fake smile. Her eyes, though, stayed wide. You signed the book and pulled out your wallet.

"I-I don't mean to be rude, but what happened to you?" She asked. Now it was your time to freeze. From behind you, Claire anxiously laughed.

"Uhhhh" Leon droned, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Camping accident," Sherry said. Thank God for Sherry.

"Uh- yeah, we got a little lost up in the mountains," you added.

She looked at each person up and down. Tension grew between the four of you because you knew she saw past your weak excuse. It was impossible not to. You waited anxiously for her response.

"I'll take you to your room," she said, Grabbing a pair of keys from the back wall. You let out a breath of relief.

The room was nothing special, but it was a huge improvement to where you had spent most of your week. There were two queen sized beds in the middle of the room along with a tv, mini fridge, microwave, desk, and couch. You set down the plastic bags on the desk. This would be an interesting night, you knew it would.

From the inside of the hotel lobby, the woman hesitantly picked up the phone again. In her other hand was a business card.

"Hello? This is the owner of the Arklay Motel. You told me to call if I found any more survivors. I've got four."

[dweetwise]

day 1: ouija board

prompt from: cocktober (don’t let the name fool you, this one’s very sfw!) pairing: felix x ace notes: some silly humor to kick off the challenge! warnings: none word count: 1300

”Honey, you’re not seriously doing this?” Ace asks, quirking an amused eyebrow as Felix, for some crazy reason, gets up to join the girls in their dumb little game.

“Why not?” Felix shrugs. “I’m curious to see who answers.”

“Wait wait wait,” Ace realizes. “You actually believe in that kind of crap?”

He eyes the worn, pathetic board that looks like something you’d buy right alongside other overprized spiritual crap like healing crystals and tarot cards. There’s a mismatch of symbols printed on the board’s edges, like someone was trying to shove all supernatural elements they could think of on it; there’s a few sigils, what looks to be Latin inscriptions, and even the Chinese zodiac.

All in all, it looks like a child’s game and not the paranormal relic the girls insist it is.

“Um, Ace,” Zarina starts, clearing her throat. “Are you saying you don’t believe in the paranormal? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Nothing weird about a demonic spider-god and being resurrected every other day, no sir,” Meg snarks.

“I didn’t say that,” Ace scoffs. “Just that there’s no such thing as ghosts. All that psychic powers, lingering spirits shit? A massive con—I should know.”

“I still think we should give it a shot,” Felix says, and Ace resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows Felix is a little lacking in the street smarts department, having spent most of his life tucked away in comfortable luxury, but this is the first time Ace has seen him completely disregard common sense.

“Yeah, I didn’t go through the trouble of stealing it for nothing!” Nea insists, puffing up her chest and expecting even more cheers for having managed to nick the item from the Legion’s hideout.

“I think we’ll definitely get an answer. We know there have been survivors before us,” Zarina tries to rationalize as much as the idea of ghosts can be rationalized.

“Knock yourselves out,” Ace dismisses with a wave of his hand, lounging back against the log and preparing to watch the group make complete fools of themselves.

“Alright, let’s do this!” Meg announces when all of the four take their places on each side of the board and place their fingers on the wooden marker. “Who’s gonna ask the questions?”

“I think Zarina should do it!” Nea says. “I’d probably just piss the ghost off.”

“Alright,” Zarina says, taking a deep breath. And then, someone starts frantically moving the marker around.

“Wow, looks like a really angry ghost is possessing Meg’s hand,” Ace smirks.

“We’re warming up the board, dumbass,” Meg shoots back.

Jesus H Christ, Ace didn’t know there was a protocol to this kind of thing. It just makes it even more ridiculous.

“I think we’re ready,” Felix says, and everyone stops the marker.

“Are there any spirits present?” Zarina asks, and the way she stares at the board with a dead serious expression is almost enough for Ace to lose it.

The pointer, predictably, is still, until someone decides to slowly move it to “Yes”.

“It’s working!” Meg exclaims. “Come on, do another one!”

“Are… were you a survivor?” Zarina asks, hesitating a little bit.

Ace really wants someone to move the marker to the rooster zodiac symbol in the background so he can make a cock joke.

He’s out of luck, because the marker only spins in a slow circle, until someone pushes it to “No”.

“You…” Zarina starts, much more meekly than before. “Were you a killer?”

Someone yanks the pointer immediately to “Yes”.

“Shit,” Nea curses, eyes going wide.

“What do I do?” Zarina hisses to the group.

“Ask if—” Felix starts, but then quiets as the marker starts moving.

“L… E… T… M…” Meg’s eyes fly over the board as the marker moves. “E... O—” she gasps as it makes its way to the final two letters.

“’Let me out’,” Felix murmurs, and there’s a genuine fear in his expression that makes Ace do a double take. He’s really buying into this stuff, huh?

“We can’t do that,” Zarina addresses the board, having somewhat collected herself. She looks like she’s about to say more, but almost loses her grip on the pointer when it zips to “Yes”.

“Oh fuck,” Nea curses. Ace doesn’t think he’s ever seen the headstrong tagger look genuinely scared before, not since first arriving in the realm. Which one of them is controlling the marker?

“Ask what it’s after,” Felix urges Zarina.

“What do you want?” Zarina asks, her voice trembling just the tiniest bit. Shit, even the Ice Queen is scared? Meg is doing a fantastic job pulling the strings.

The marker goes crazy, frantically moving between letters, seeming to repeat a pattern that spells—

“’Kill’,” Meg gasps, retreating her hand as if burned, and it just keeps moving, almost like it’s possessed, and damnit, that means it’s not her doing it—

“Meg come on, we need all of us to bind it!” Nea says, and they’re all seeming to struggle with getting the marker under control, like it has a mind of its own.

“Quick, ask it something!” Felix says, an urgency in his voice as he addresses Zarina. Suddenly, Ace doesn’t want to know what happens if the marker manages to get free from their grasp.

“Who? Who do you want to kill?” Zarina nearly shouts, pressing down on the rogue game piece with both hands to get it under control.

Nea’s finger slips when the pointer flies across the board, landing on A and then moving to C—

Ace’s eyes go wide when he sees the violent spirit spell out his name on the board, his heartbeat suddenly thundering in his ears and no longer feeling safe at all, despite the familiar glow of the campfire and being surrounded by his companions.

And then it gets so much worse when Felix turns to look at him and his face blanches in fear, and Meg is doing the same, looking behind him and yelling out a warning—

“Ace!”

Cold hands emerge from the shadows and grab at him before he can turn around, and Ace shrieks and scrambles away, not about to let the ghost drag him to the void—

And then the ghost starts laughing in a very familiar manner and his companions are quick to join in, and Ace’s adrenaline-fueled brain finally allows him to turn to face his attacker and realize the fluffy-haired ghost looks awfully familiar.

“Steve,” Ace addresses the teen through gritted teeth.

“Oh man, you screamed like a girl!” Steve cackles, actually doubling over in laughter.

“I told you it’d work!” Nea snickers, elbowing Felix.

“Wait, you planned this!?” Ace screeches, turning to face his lover in accusation.

“Maybe,” Felix smirks like the infuriating bastard that he is.

“Remember the time you scammed me out of my skeleton keys?” Zarina asks with a sickly sweet smile.

“Or when you got that chest and let me die on hook?” Steve adds, still chuckling.

“Wait, you were all in on it?” Ace realizes.

“Payback’s a bitch!” Meg sing-songs, and Ace can’t help but be impressed at their coordination. It was a perfectly executed prank, and he can’t believe Felix managed to fool him so completely.

“You,” Ace demands, an accusing finger pointing at his lover. “You’d better make this up to me.”

“Of course, darling,” Felix smirks, and Ace resigns himself to his fate of seeing that smug little smile for at least the next couple of days. Felix walks up to him and places a cute kiss into his hairline, and Ace is maybe, maybe prepared to forgive him.

“I’ll protect you from the scary ghost,” Felix murmurs and when Ace snaps his head back to gape at him in offense, Felix has the audacity to laugh.

Since when has his boyfriend been such a little demon?

[realllllfangirllllll]

More Than Friends ||

Chp. 39

Masterlist

CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader

College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader

Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.

{ Previous / Next }

Jaehyun’s pov

I walked into Soyeon’s house and was greeted by one too many people. Mark, Lucas, and Johnny, all sat scattered throughout her living room and I unconsciously sighed.

“It’s great to see you too Mr. MIA,” Mark told me sarcastically.

Johnny then chimed in, “Yeah, why did you hole yourself up? You know we’re always here for you...”

“I was going to break into your house through that broken window,” Lucas said as he stood up and gave me an unexpectedly tight hug. He then pats my back firmly, “We missed you bro.”

You returned a tight smile, “Relax won’t you? Nothing’s wrong.”

Mark scoffed, “Really Yoonoh? We all know the losses you’ve been through. We want to help you so stop getting all tough on us.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Johnny placed a hand on Mark’s shoulders, “Calm down there buddy, he’s going through a lot right now, the least we could do is be softer on him,” He then turned to me, “We’re here to help you, Jaehyun. Don’t back out on us, ok?”

I rolled my eyes, “Fine, I was coming in here to ask for Soyeon’s help anyways.”

The three men looked at you with odd expressions and spoke in unison, “Why Soyeon?”

“I’m standing right here you know,” Soyeon crossed her arm and glared at them.

I then burst out into laughter. I missed having company. I was stupid to turn away from my friends who gave me comfort and trust. “Fuck, I missed you guys,” I suddenly confessed as they all looked at me like I was psychotic. “What?”

Lucas laughed out, “I know we said to put the tough act away, but you didn’t have to turn into such a soft teddy bear.”

“Ok that’s it I’m leaving.”

“Wait! I’m just joking man. Come on, don’t be such a grizzly bear,” he looked at me with a big smirk plastered on his face.

I plopped down on the couch and glared at the Chinese man, “Say that again and you won’t be able to speak ever again.”

As the two of us were about to start bickering, Soyeon clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Ok little boys, shut up. We all came here to continue pursuing ‘Operation Love’ so if all of you can listen to me and stop acting like kindergarteners, that’ll be fantastic.”

I laughed, “‘Operation Love’? You really do take after Lucas quite quickly.”

Lucas smirked proudly as Soyeon rolled her eyes. “Ok let’s firs-”

Mark cut her off, confusion written all over his face. “Since when were you in charge of ‘Operation Love’? I thought you were a dumb hoe.”

“I will murder you bitch.”

Amused at their bickering, I explained, “Actually, Soyeon has been the biggest contribution to,” I rolled my eyes, “‘Operation Love’ since day one.”

Everyone looked at me with their mouths wide open as Soyeon beamed proudly, “Mhm, Jaehyun’s one hundred percent correct. If it weren’t for me they wouldn’t start fucking again.”

I raised my eyebrows at her as Mark told me, “See? This is why you should never compliment her. She’s a dumb, thirsty hoe.”

She rolled her eyes at Mark’s words and continued, “Listen bitch, I knew I was wrong to set Jaemin up with y/n when she still had a thing for Jaemin. Plus, you threatened me so I decided to set things right again. I so happened to have a friend who knows where Jaehyun lives so I bought the house across from him to get the operation in motion. I called y/n over to my house and told her I ‘forgot’ I had classes to get to and BOOM I called Jaehyun out and they met again and then,” she started putting her index finger through the circle she made with her other hand as Mark and I rolled our eyes.

Lucas then said cockily, “But, I was the GOAT. If I didn’t come to pick y/n up and left her at my apartment which I told Jaehyun to go to, they would have never,” he started to mimic Soyeon’s motions and at this point, we were all rolling our eyes at their dramatic explanation.

Soyeon sat down on Lucas’ lap and said, “Don’t forget, I purposely signed y/n up for the internship so we could bring the operation all the way to home base. She smiled proudly and gave Lucas a kiss, “But still, my hero did such a great job.”

Johnny and Mark made gagging gestures and I chuckled. Damn it’s great to have my friends with me again.

I leaned forward and clasped my hands together, “Alright enough with the trips down memory lane. I really need to find y/n, immediately.”

“Do you not check your phone or what?” Soyeon asked.

I chuckled to myself and slightly shook my head, “I would if I had one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I threw it out my window...”

Mark suddenly commented with sarcasm, “Damn, you rich people are something else.”

Lucas then clapped his hands like a seal, laughing, “Ohh that’s why there was a big ass hole in your window.”

I rolled my eyes at the two guys and continued, “So are any of you guys going to help me out, or are you just going to make fun of me?”

Everyone went silent. I glared at them as their silence started to get on my nerves. “Are you guys serious right now?”

Johnny spoke out for the rest of them. He scratched the back of his neck as he said with hesitation, “Look man, there’s one thing you gotta know before you start chasing after her again. Y/n’s brother is extremely protective of her. Right now she’s in Paris with him and we don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to go there...”

I stared at him with both confusion and anger, “What the fuck. Why?”

Mark shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, “If any of you guys tell y/n, I’ll kill you. But her ex, Jack, went through hell after he cheated on her, and it was all because of Xiaojun. He exposed him to literally everyone he knew. Family, coworkers, neighbors, you name it, he exposed it. Of course, he kept this a secret from her, but it was terrible man... The girl he was with left him immediately after his family found out and shunned them. He was trying to find a stable place to live after getting kicked out by his parents.”

A course of sighs can be heard around the living room. I ran my hand through my messy hair, trying to find a way I can be with her again. Frustrated, I told them, “Why do I have to care? I’m not that cheating jackass. I would never do something as terrible as to cheat on her.”

Soyeon gave me a skeptical look and asked, “But if it weren’t for you, would that Emily bitch go all out to sabotage y/n?”

I shouted out in frustration and anger, “The fuck am I supposed to know that bitch would have so much time on her hands to pull shit like that?”

With a sympathetic look on her face, she replied, “Don’t worry, we all know you did nothing wrong. We’re all on your side and support this relationship, but after things got messy with Jack, Xiaojun got even more uptight with other guys entering her life. Plus, we don’t know how much he knows about your relationship with her.”

Mark assured, “Don’t worry man, she didn’t even tell him about dating you so he most likely wouldn’t know about what you guys did before that.”

With sarcasm dripping out of my voice, I said, “Great. That makes me feel so much more at ease.”

Just then, our conversation was interrupted when Soyeon’s phone rang. She went to the kitchen to answer it and seconds later, she came rushing back with concern written all over her face. She handed the phone to me and whispered, “It’s him. He wants to talk to you.”

Unconsciously, I sat up a little straighter and answered the call, bracing myself for what’s to come.

———

• Curious question: Is anyone from Denmark? I’ve been wanting to go but I don’t really know much about it so if someone could tell me what it’s like there that’d be great~ •

[obwjam]

chapter 10?!?!?

a/n: holy heck how long has it been since i’ve updated this? i realized that i put up a 10th chapter on AO3 but didn’t upload it here lmao. since it’s been so long, this is the borrower!peter and tony stark/avengers story from forever ago, which i still totally plan on finishing. previous chapters linked for your convenience, also taglist might be wildly outdated so just lmk if you dont wanna be on it lol

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter | AO3

taglist: @nightmarejasmine @burrpoetry @thepoolofthedead @the-original-space-cowboy @gttrash@smolkuriboh27 @tiefling-trickery @teenygiant @bittykimmy​ @random-sanders-dragon

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Strangely enough, Peter was more excited to see the rest of the Avengers than he was to be stuck with Tony. As soon as Tony got upstairs, he was practically itching to just walk around the counter and hang out with everybody.

Of course, as soon as he remembered how freaking big everyone was, he got a little less excited.

“JARVIS!” Tony shouted as he placed his hand down on the counter. “The usual?”

“You got it, sir,” the AI responded. “The order has been put in.”

“Damn, that quickly?” Natasha quipped.

“We do eat there a lot,” Cap replied.

“I think we’re keeping it in business,” Tony said with a smirk. “I’m gonna go out and get our food. You gonna be alright down there, kiddo?”

Peter nodded and stuck his thumb up, hoping that Tony could see.

“IIIII’ll take that as a yes,” Tony said. He turned the corner and bounded up the stairs, leaving Peter with the rest of the team.

“So…” Cap tried. “Clint was just telling us a bit about borrowers.”

“O-Oh yeah?” Peter asked. He wasn’t even all that scared—at this point, he was just curious as to how Clint knew so much.

“Yeah,” Clint’s raspy voice broke through, “I was just telling ‘em how you guys are, like, the perfect spies.”

“I had no idea there was a secret S.H.I.E.L.D division just for you guys,” Steve said.

“Your people must be quite honorable,” Thor added.

Peter nodded. He didn’t want them to know that this was his first time learning about all of this, too.

“W-What else did you say?” Peter asked.

“Well, some of the most vital information the US government has ever obtained has been by borrowers. You ever heard of Watergate?”

“No, actually,” Peter mumbled.

“I know Tony isn’t too hot about you going on missions, but it sounds like you’re born for this role,” Natasha said with a small smile.

“Well, a few more runs through that course and I think we can introduce you to Fury!” Clint said happily.

“Wait, who’s—"

“Food’s here!”

Tony really picks the worst times to show up, Peter thought. He stared in awe as the giant brought in huge bags, filled to the brim with containers of food.

“Allllrighty, I’ve got something for everyone here!” he laid it out on the table and watched in amusement as the hungry superheroes dove for the food as if they hadn’t eaten in days. Tony, container in hand, sat at the counter next to Peter.

“I figured you could eat out of my box,” he said, scooping a spoonful of food onto a napkin. “If you want more, ask me and I’ll get it for you. I don’t want your little fingerprints all over my shawarma. I don’t want this to turn into the Chinese food incident again.”

Peter, ignoring Tony’s comment, was already face-deep into his pile of food. Sure, Tony had ordered takeout, but he had never eaten this food before.

“Jeez, that kid can really eat, huh?” Steve leaned over and whispered to Clint, who laughed.

“Little guy’s got a big stomach,” he chuckled.

It seemed as though everyone else had a big stomach too, because by the time every last bit had been eaten, everyone was stuffed.

“I was gonna suggest we play Monopoly and let Peter be his own piece, but boy, am I stuffed,” Tony said. Everyone else grumbled in agreement.

“Aw, man, I love being my own piece,” Peter pouted.

“I dunno about you boys, but mama needs her rest,” Natasha said, pushing herself up from the couch. Bruce, Thor and Steve were in silent agreement. Tony could not have been more relieved as all of them branched off to their respective rooms.

“I’ve got some extra work I want to do down in the lab,” he said, turning down to Peter. “Wanna join?”

Peter’s eyes lit up, but they flashed over to Clint cleaning up the mess in the living room for long enough for the hesitation to be felt.

“That’s fine, kid. You don’t have to be in the lab with me at all times,” Tony snipped. “Tell Jarvis if you need anything.”

Peter watched as Tony bounded downstairs. He was probably still pissed.

That just left Clint.

“You’re lucky, Peter,” Clint said with about 20 boxes in his arms. “You don’t ever have to be stuck with cleanup duty.”

Peter laughed quietly, but his mind was a hurricane of questions he still had for Clint. But in the eye of the storm was a central question that Peter didn’t even realize he wanted to ask until now.

“Uh, M-Mr. Clint?”

“I told you, bud,” Clint said as he threw every box into the recycling bin. “Drop the mister. Just Clint is fine.”

“O-okay… C-Clint…”

Clint sat down in front of Peter, trying to seem as small as possible so he didn’t loom over him too much.

“Y-You said that you know about a lot of borrowers.”

“That’s right.”

“A-And you know a lot about t-this area right? O-of the… world?”

“New York? The insanely famous New York? Yeah, I may know a thing or two.”

Peter gulped in air.

“Do you… do you know anything about my family?”

Clint fell silent. Peter kept going.

“My parents’ names were Richard and Mary. Parker. They always used to go out borrowing and sometimes they would be gone for days. I didn’t get it, but they always came back with all this stuff so I never complained! And then one day they just… never came back. I-I don’t know what happened.”

Clint’s mind was racing for the right thing to say.

“A-and we lived with my aunt and uncle, too. Ben and May. They were in a building close by. It was nice. Most borrowers don’t get to live with a big family.”

The knot in Clint’s stomach was growing larger.

“They… I don’t know what happened to them, Clint! I don’t know what happened to any of them! Nothing is out of the ordinary and then all of a sudden my whole family is gone and I’m wandering around this giant, scary city alone!”

Pause.

“Five years ago. It was… five years ago. Ben and May were taking care of me after my parents disappeared. Something happened… th-the human must have found us, I don’t know. But May brought me to a new building and told me to wait there for her. And I waited for two days. And she never came back, Clint. She never came back.

“A-And none of it even makes sense! Something has been wrong for years now and there’s nothing I can do about it! No matter who I meet or how high I jump or where I go… I won’t be able to change anything.”

Clint was floored. Not just because Peter was telling him all this so openly, but because there were parts to this story he had never known before.

What were you thinking, Peter! Why would you tell this weird human your whole life story! You haven’t even told this to Tony or Bruce yet. Why does Clint get to know?!

“I-I’m sorry,” Peter stuttered. “I-I don’t know why I just… I’m sorry.”

Peter turned around, curling his legs up and burying his face in his knees. Of all the crazy things that have happened over the last half year, he’s never before felt so small.

Clint sighed as Peter scrunched up. He leaned his head down to the counter.

“Hey.”

Peter didn’t move.

“Peter… you don’t have to apologize for anything. I can’t imagine what you’ve had to go through. I know borrowers have it rough, buddy, a-and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like you have such a cool life. I get it.”

Peter hiccuped as a tear rolled down his cheek. At least Clint acknowledged that.

“But I haven’t been being totally honest with you.”

That made Peter turn around. He ignored how huge Clint looked with his head resting on the table. “W-What are you—”

Before Clint could even speak, the two were interrupted by the sound of Tony’s heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

“Oh, thank god you two are still here,” he said in between big breaths. He took a moment to collect himself.

“Something really, really bad is happening.”

[benhardyisdaddy]

Howl - Part 1

MASTERLIST 

Werewolf!BenxReader

(welcome to a new fic im starting ugh ik i have so many im working on lmao but im a good mulitasker i promise, this is really long but im trying a different style so bare with me plz!!!! ily ok BYEEE)

Word Count: 3,193

The twinkling of the stars above you made you stop and stare. They were high in the sky and gleaming all around, causing your eyes to stare in amazement. Darkness surrounded you, besides one street lamp down the road that illuminated a tiny portion of your street. A warm breeze rustles through your hair as crickets chirp all around, being the only form of noise you can overhear. You continue gazing at the stars as you stroll towards your house in front of you. You silently thank yourself for moving to an area with no neighbors for a few miles away. Complete solitary, just how you adore it. Nobody telling you to turn your music down, no having to make small talk to people you barely know. It was an actual dream come true. The only downfall, in your opinion, are the sinister woods to the left of your new home. An almost eerie like shadow lingers over it, as if reminding you to never enter inside. And you understand, loud and clear.

You continue staring up to the glistening sky as you start on your front porches steps. You finally break your eyes away and look to your bright red front door, reaching for the outside lock. You fumble in your pocket and finally retrieve your keys. As you slip the key inside the lock, before you can fully unlock, a loud rustling noise in the woods makes you fling yourself around to stare. Your eyes dart around in the darkness as you watch for any signs of movement. Your heart begins racing at an ungodly speed and every hair on your body stands up in horror. You hold your breath and once more turn around and hurriedly unlock the door. You scramble inside and slam the door close, eliciting a loud BANG throughout the empty house. You quickly try to find the lock in the pitch dark and click it locked. You reach over and blindly move your hands on the wall next to the door in search of the light switch. After several seconds, you finally find it and flip it on. The foyer illuminates brightly and you finally let out a breath you had been holding. You look to the door once more and lock the deadbolt.

The noise you heard outside had to have been a wild animal making its nighttime rounds. It was probably a squirrel or rabbit that were rustling the leaves. You keep repeating this to yourself in an effort to calm down your wired nerves. As much as you love being far away from civilization, it also has its downfalls. Like being completely alone and nobody will hear you scream if you need help. You quickly shut your eyes and shake that horrible thought from your mind. Of course this is where your mind takes you when you’re terrified. It wants to jump to the most horrendous possible case scenarios, as if that helps you in any way. You lean away from your front door and place your purse on the table near the wall. You slide off your burgundy cardigan and drape it on your coat rack.

You stroll into your kitchen and flick the lights on once more. You peer around and spot your fat, orange tabby cat on one of your kitchen island chairs. He peeks up to you and watches as you stroll over to him. You softly scratch his ears as he purrs loudly, letting you know to keep going. You smile to him and scratch once more before standing up straight.

“What do we want for dinner, Tiger?” you ask him as you open up your refrigerator.

You place your lip between your teeth as you look up and down the shelves, in search of something to put this harsh growling in your stomach to rest. The only items you see are an old box of Chinese food, a bottle of now flat Pepsi and a full bottle of ketchup. You let out an annoyed huff and shut the door quickly. You really need to go grocery shopping, but being in college and having a part time job was putting a dent in your wallet. You had tried to convince your parents that you could manage living on your own, even though they fought and fought with you on the topic.

“Why don’t you just live with us while you attend college?” your mom asks as she’s sat in a salon chair, with tin foil in her hair.

You’re sat across the room in another chair, a magazine in your hand. You let out a breath and roll your eyes for the millionth time that day.

“Because mom, I’m an adult and would like to do just a few adult things on my own.”

She purses her lips and you can tell she won’t let this go.

“You can save so much money if you live with us. You won’t have to pay for rent, or groceries, or your car payment!”

You drop the magazine in your lap and look up to her quickly.

“Mom, I don’t need you and dad to pay for every little thing for me. I want to do this for myself. I promise I’ll be okay.”

You’re snapped from that memory when your stomach suddenly rumbles. You had told your parents you could do this on your own, so you’ll be damned if you allow them to find out that you can barely afford your own groceries. You wanted this, so you’ll deal with it. You reach your hand to the back pocket of your jeans and slide out your cell phone. You unlock it and scroll through your contact list, in search of the Chinese restaurant you love. As you’re searching, you hear a low, faint growl. You snap your head over to look at Tiger, but he was no longer on your island chair. You walk back over to the chair and look around confused. You finally hear the noise once more and you look up to your sliding glass door, that leads to your backyard. Tiger is stood in front of it as every orange hair on his body is stood straight up. His back is arched as he stares intensely out the window. You freeze and gaze out the window, trying to find what it is he sees.

Tiger suddenly loudly meows, as if to warn something to not come any closer. You take a step back, still looking out the window. This was the first time you had ever seen your cat act like this and you were definitely not a fan.

“Tiger?” you whisper out to him.

Just then, you see movement outside. You clutch your phone tightly as your eyes open wide in fear. A large, dark figure darts in your your backyard. Your voice is caught in your throat, which might be a good thing, seeing as you would be screaming for your life. Whatever was in your yard, it was giant and it was peering inside at you. You gasp suddenly when two large, giant yellow eyes stare directly at you. As if on cue, Tiger suddenly lets out a loud, angry hiss and you finally find your voice as you scream. The yellow eyes suddenly disappear as you scramble to dial your best friend’s number. You bring the phone to your ear and back yourself up into the back wall. You feel yourself shivering when a voice finally answers the phone.

“Hello?” asks a familiar voice.

“Joe!” you scream out, your breathing hard. “I need you to come to my place! Please hurry!”

You can hear concern in his voice as he speaks to you, but you ignore everything as you stare outside, searching for anymore movement. You hear your name being shouted and you come back to reality.

“I can’t explain it right now! Just please hurry!”

And with that you hang up the phone. You were use to seeing foxes and coyotes in your backyard, as they search for any kind of food, but this thing. This thing was different. It was terrifyingly huge and it’s eyes were as if they were trying to speak to you. You feel crazy for even thinking that. You were just terrified and silently pray to yourself that Joe hurries over. You walk to your living room and sit on your couch, bringing your legs to your chest. He only lived about ten minutes away, yet to you, it felt like hours in this current situation. You weren't sure exactly what you were going to tell him. You were going to sound insane and like a scared little helpless girl. A big scary monster is outside, you sarcastically think to yourself. You’re still sat when suddenly there’s a pounding at your door. You jump and gasp as your heart races once more. You slowly stand up and walk around the corner, peering at it. You walk up to it and lean in to peek out of the peephole. Joe is stood there, bouncing on his heels. He reached forward and bangs on the door once more.

“Y/n!” he shouts.

You quickly unlock the locks and swing the door open. You grab his shirt and pull him inside as you slam it shut. You lock the locks once more and lean against the door, eyes closed as you take in a deep breath. Joe watches you with a brow raised, confused as to what’s happening. You open your eyes and look to him. You furrow your brows and stand up straighter.

“You were really fast getting here.” you say, almost curious.

Joe shrugs and leans on his other foot, looking down for split second.

“There was no traffic.” he says as he lightly laughs. “And I took that one back road to get here.”

You squint your eyes and lightly shake your head.

“A back road?” you ask, almost forgetting about the main reason Joe was at your home.

Joe opens his mouth to talk, but quickly closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Forget about it. I’m here for you, so talk to me. What happened?” he asks, slowly walking to your living room couch, you following behind him. The two if you sit down and you glance to your sliding glass door, half expecting to see eyes staring back. You lightly shutter and look to him, taking in a deep breath.

“Okay,” you start. “Tiger was staring at something in the backyard and it really freaked him out. I thought he was just being weird…” you pause and glance back over to the door. “But I saw something move. I saw it’s eyes. They were just staring at me.” you whisper, not breaking your eye contact with him. He raises both brows and blinks a few times.

“So you saw an animal in your backyard? The backyard that’s surrounded by woods…” he says slowly, making you feel almost embarrassed. You exhale and lean your head back and groan.

“This thing was huge, okay? I’m not crazy!” you shout, throwing your hands up. Joe shakes his head and puts up his hands in defense.

“Hey, I never said you were! I’m just saying it’s late, it’s dark, you’re home alone. You saw something move and your brain was playing tricks on you. I’m not denying what you saw.” he says softly. You stare at him and slowly nod your head, coming to realize that maybe he’s right. You were exhausted and maybe you were just seeing things.

“I just won’t get over it’s eyes, that’s all.” you say as you cross your arms and think about them staring at you. Joe lifts a brow and sits himself up, leaning his elbow against the back of the couch.

“What did they look like? The eyes that is.” he asks, curious. You look to him and shrug, looking down at your hands.

“They were big and yellow. They literally were glowing yellow. And they just stared at me.”

Joe sits up straight and stares at you intensely. He doesn’t move or say anything, as you continue talking.

“I’m thinking I should call animal control and have them come look around here, or at least for them to keep a closer eye on the woods.” you say, still looking down. That sounded like a good idea to you. It put your worries to rest.

“No!” says Joe, a little more louder than he wanted to sound. You look up to him quickly and raise a brow. His once anxious face had fallen into a relaxed, sorry look. Sympathetic almost.

“I just mean, it’s probably not anything to worry about, y/n.” he says, quietly. “It’s probably just a wolf. We have those you know. Big ones. In the woods. Probably these woods.” he says, speeding up his words. You watch him and your eyes open wide as you glance to the back door once more.

“Wolves? Here? Is that suppose to make me feel better? That’s terrifying, Joe!” you say, quickly standing to your feet. You wrap your arms around yourself and begin pacing back and forth in the room. Joe is sat still, watching you. He finally stands up and walks to you, placing both hands on your shoulders to stop you. You look up to him and frown.

“Y/n, listen,” he starts. “You’re safe. I promise. How long have we been best friends now?” he asks, smiling. You return one and lean your head back.

“A little over three years now.” you say quietly.

“Yes, a little over three years now. I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll buy you protection if you want? You can carry mace or even a taser.”

You frown and drop your hands to your side.

“What about a gun?” you ask, raising your brows. Joe shakes his head and half laughs, finally dropping his hands as well.

“You and I both know that you and a gun would not be a good idea.”

You laugh loudly and nod. He was right. That would not be a good combination. You're not even sure if you and mace would be a good pair, but it’s a good idea.

“Okay,” you finally say, taking a deep breath. “Once I buy some stuff to protect me, I’ll feel better. And I won’t call animal services.”

Joe lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He smiles and nods fast.

“Okay, good. Just know you can always call me for anything. Even if big foot comes knocking at your door.” he says, teasing you. You sarcastically laugh and swat at his arm, eliciting a loud laugh from him. He smiles and pulls you into a big hug, squeezing slightly. You release and look up to him.

“Still on for tomorrow?” he asks, raising a brow. You smile and nod.

“Who’s gonna be there?” you ask, walking back to the couch and sitting down. Joe follows, but he continues standing.

“Rami, Gwil and Ben.” he says, naturally.

You were super close to Rami and Gwilym, but Ben?

“Ben?” you ask. “Who’s Ben?”

Joe sits on the arm of the couch and threads his fingers together.

“He’s the new leader of our pack.” he says, dramatically. You roll your eyes and laugh at his comment.

“You make it sound like you’re wild dogs.” you say, laughing. Joe’s face falls for a split second and then he’s laughing along with you. He stands once more and looks to the front door.

“Well thank you for coming to my rescue again.” you say as you stand up with him. You walk to your front door and he opens it up, a warm breeze making its way inside. He turns to face you, smiles and once more pulls you in for a hug. You squeeze him and back away.

“I’m just a call away.” he says, walking on your front porch. “Just don’t think about what you saw too much. It’ll only freak you out more. And go to bed.” he says sternly as he walks down the steps and to his car.

“Fine!” you call out as you wave him goodbye. You slowly close the door and don’t forget to lock it tight. You turn around and lean your back on it, taking in a deep breath and closing your eyes. This was too much excitement for one night. You were now officially exhausted. You drag yourself through your hallway and to your bedroom. You walk in and discard every item of clothing you have on. You pull out an over sized, white shirt from your top drawer and slip it on. You click on your TV and the news pops on. You shut your light off and quickly hurry to your bed, sliding under the cool covers. Your head hits the pillow and your eyes automatically close. You sigh once and then you fall into a deep sleep.

That night you dream of bright yellow glowing eyes staring at you. You were lost in the woods and all around you were tall trees and no path. It was pitch black, the only light being the full moon high in the sky. The glowing eyes stare at you and you couldn’t look away. You were almost in a trance. They had some kind of spell on you and you couldn’t break free. You wanted to open your mouth and scream, but you couldn’t. You were fixed on these bright eyes and you weren't sure why. Just then, the eyes seemed to get closer and closer. You realized and started backing away until your back bumps into a tree. You had nowhere to go, you were cornered. The eyes get closer and right before you wake, the creatures mouth snarls and long, sharp fangs appear as a hideous growl rips through the woods and right through your heart.

You suddenly wake up and gasp as your eyes shoot open. You grab your chest in an attempt to slow your breathing. You look around frantically, half expecting the yellow eyes to be in your room, but they weren't. It was no longer dark, as sun rays break through your closed curtains. You slowly sit up and look to your right as a sleeping Tiger is curled up next to you. You smile and gently pet him, making his stretch and yawn. You look over to your bedside table and grab your cell phone. 7:28 AM. You lie back down and stretch your muscles awake. You stare at the ceiling and suddenly remember the dream you had. It had to have been because of Joe talking about wolves. Yeah, that’s why you dreamed that. You shake your head and sit up once more. You needed to get up and get ready for the day. Suddenly the name Ben comes to your mind and you’re curious about him. You wonder why Joe had never brought him up before. Who was he? Why had you never heard of him before? You quickly push those thoughts away and head to your bathroom to shower. You guess you’ll find all of that out today.

My Perm Tag List: (if u want to be added to this story, just let me know) @seven-seas-of-hi @ramimalekrp-roleplayerpage @mautand @peter-parkersbb @rogertayolr @mothermercuryy @basics-andthesimplelife @caterinaborgia @discodeacyjazzyjoe @bethany-cc @thewinchesterchronicles @iambuckyrogers @idontbelievethiss 

[dustofinsanity]

𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡. 𝟙

ㅤ

Minghao / Reader ㅤㅤㅤ College AU ㅤㅤㅤ Words count: 4.4k

Summary:  She could be the most popular girl of her school, Y/n's life became really interesting when she started to hang out and spend more time with the ones who saved her, with this bunch of bad boys who were funnier than she could imagine, with that guy who didn't hate her like she thought.

Content/Warning: Mini series, Angst, Romance/Fluff

Next Part

For a lot of people, school was an horrible place where they had to work hard to get their dream job or, at least, a job for which they would be well-paid, without being sure about their future. Most of the students hated school and the only things they liked were that they could see their friends everyday and eat pretty good meals. Yes, most of them hated the university where they were studying and that's why you were an exception. You liked school, you liked studying and learning a lot of things. History, maths, geography, sciences, foreign languages, etc... You really liked it. It wasn't a passion but you were so curious about everything and, even if your grades weren't the best of the university, you were a good student and you did your best to make your parents proud. At the beginning, your classmates thought you were trying to be the teachers' pet and they were pretty mean to you but, after a few months, they saw you didn't want to be noticed, you just enjoyed studying. After that, they started to talk with you, knowing you a little more and seeing you were a real ray of sunshine. A pure and innocent girl, eager to learn, with a generous and delicate heart. You went from "the one who wanted the teachers' love" to "the university's ray of sunshine". You knew almost everyone and some men made it quite clear that they were interested in you. But you weren't. Even if the university was full of handsome and cute young males, you didn't really notice them. Yes, they were attractive but they were too simple for you, what they really wanted was too obvious, and above all, they were too sweet, too nice. You weren't a "bad boys fangirl" but you found these kind of guys more interesting than others. Since you were curious about everything, you were also curious about mankind and you wanted to know why some students were good and peaceful while others were delinquents, why they made bad choices, what they were been through to be like this, etc... And, somehow, you also wanted to help them. You knew your help would be useless; if they wanted to live like that, that was their choice. But you could feel in your guts they made their choices for bad reasons. Even if you didn't want to change these men, you wanted to show them they could do better without being... assholes? But, for a lot of them, there was a lot of work... You could hear a lot of laughs, girls laughs, before entering your classroom and you knew who made them laugh like that. It was surely Seungcheol, one of the bad boys of the university, the guys all the female students were fangirling over. You would be a liar if you said they weren't attractive because, yes, they were. But you also knew you'd always been attracted by the dark side of mankind, by your total opposite. You were like a pure angel seduced by Hell. You kept your hand on the door handle, the other hand on your chest, trying to calm down, and took a deep breath when someone came behind and made you jump. "You know, Y/n, it's just a door, not Hell's gate." "Dear Lord, Jisoo, you scared me!" You breathed, trying to catch your breath. "Really? An angel like me?" He joked, cupping his face in his hands with an adorable smile. "If you're an angel, I'm the Queen of England." "Then after you, your Majesty." He smirked, opening the classroom door. Chuckling, you playfully curtsied and entered the classroom without paying attention to the looks the other students were giving at you both. You sat down at your place and got your stuff out of your bag, placing them specifically on the desk. Jisoo asked you why you always did that and you replied it was just a habit. From the corner of your eyes, you saw him nod and do the same, always with his adorable smile. Even if Jisoo, also known as Joshua, was a friend of Seungcheol and a member of the "bad boys club", like you called them, you really liked him, he was very different from his friends. Always smiling, nice, polite and well mannered. You've never seen him being arrogant or disrespectful to teachers or other students. You couldn't say the same about his friends. Two of them were in the same class. First, Seungcheol, or S.coups to his friends, the leader of the "bad boys club". He was such a player, flirting with all the girls he could see, and being more than arrogant with elders. Like his members, he was a fighter, someone who liked to get in trouble for everything and nothing. The second was Minghao, often called THE8, a chinese man who came to South Korea almost ten years ago. You knew it because one of your friends told you. Unlike the other bad guys, he was calm and quiet, always silently staring at people. You couldn't deny it, he was the one who scared you the most. The other members, Mingyu, Wonwoo and Hansol, also known as Vernon, were like Seungcheol, players, fighters, arrogant, etc... As you said jokingly when you talked about all of them with your friends, they were the perfect sons-in-law. You started to reread the lesson your class studied the day before when the door opened loudly. A student from another class shouted that Mingyu was fighting with another man and, almost immediately, everyone ran out, excited about the idea of seeing the tall man that Mingyu was beating someone, like he always did since he was one of the strongest guys in the university. You sighed and focused back on your textbook when you felt a gaze on you, a gaze that made you shiver, a gaze you would rather not feel on you. You discreetly cleared your throat and, without turning your head you asked to Minghao why he didn't go with his friends. "I didn't want." He simply replied, smirking as he saw how uncomfortable you were with him. An awkward silence settled in the classroom, making your heart beat faster. Since you couldn't understand or guess what Minghao was thinking, you didn't trust him or enjoy being alone with him. He was like a movie serial killer, the kind of murderer who stalks his victims for months and attacks them when they are alone in a cold and silent place. Like you were at this moment... You wanted to run away but you couldn't move, your legs were paralysed by fear and you felt sweat rolling on your left temple. Biting your bottom lip, you prayed to all the gods you knew so Minghao wouldn't kill you when you heard your classmates came back. You sighed loudly and looked at the young man from the corner of your eyes. The smirk hadn't left his lips and he scared you more than anything else. "Psychopath..." You thought. After classes, you went to the school library, like you always did. Students knew that if they were looking for you at the end of the day, you were here, doing your homework or reading some difficult books you didn't always understand. Most of time, you were sitting on the floor, surrounded by books, your pen in your mouth, a notebook in a hand and a cafe latte in the other. "Hey, Y/n!" A student called you! "Smile!" You raised your head and looked at the young male, a friendly smile on your lips as you were doing the V sign. He took a photo of you with his cell phone and thanked you before walking away. Chuckling a little, you focused back on the book you were reading. It wasn't unusual that students took photos of you when you where studying at the school library and you didn't mind it. Some of them even posted the pictures on their blog, always saying "The ray of sunshine is studying, shhh". "Wow, I didn't know you were such a popstar." Someone joked next to you. "Don't you worry about what they can do with the photos?" "They can do everything they want, I don't really care." You replied to Jisoo without looking at him. "Can I?" You nodded, still reading, and heard him sit next to you, grabbing some books in front of you. "It's fun because everyone seem to like you here but I always see you alone." Jisoo noted. "Do you like being alone?" "No, it's just that I'm too busy to hang out." "Studies before buddies?" He smiled, lowering his head to see your face better. "Not really." You shrugged, closing your textbook, and looked at him. "It's just that... Well, I don't know. I like people, they're nice but I don't think most of them are sincere, you know. Some of them are nice but the others... They act like they're kind but it's simple to know what they really think." "What am I? Nice or too simple?" "You're something else. Yes, you're nice, polite and sweet but I feel you're hiding something and I think that's why you hang out with Seungcheol and his friends." "His friends are mine too." He smiled nicely. "You don't like my friends, right?" You tilted your head and thought about your answer. You wouldn't say you didn't like them, you just didn't understand them as you didn't understand why Jisoo stayed with them. You explained your thoughts and made Jisoo laugh, which caught you off guard. "You're cute, Y/n, you know that? You say I'm nice and sweet but you don't know me outside. Who says I'm an angel in my free time? Maybe I'm a monster." You pouted a little and looked up, thinking about his answer. He was right, you knew the student Jisoo not the other. But one thing was sure for you, he couldn't be a monster. A male voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you saw Jisoo's friends coming to you, evil grins on their lips. Wonwoo crouched in front of you and took the book from your hands while the others looked at you, making you shiver a little. "This one sucks." Wonwoo said without raising his eyes to you. "You should read Kim So-wol, his poems are better." Taken by surprise, your eyes opened widely. "You... you read poetry?" "Yeah, Wonwoo is the poet of the group." Seungcheol joked and sat in front of you but, instead of talking with you, he spoke to Jisoo. "I don't think Meena will like it if you're always with Y/n." "It's not my fault, she's so cute and interesting." Jisoo replied in a sweet voice, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "And smart! I like that." "Soon, he will ask her to be in his harem." Hansol chuckled. "I'm too possessive to be a part of a harem." You said, looking at him and tilting your head, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. Your reaction caught the boys off guard and, with amused smiles on their lips, they looked at you, seeing you could be more fun than they thought. "Be careful, guys, she will bite soon." Mingyu teased. "I can scratch too." You added with a playful smile. "I'd like too see that." Seungcheol growled, licking his bottom lip, looking at you with a kind of lust. "You already have a lot of fangirls and I don't want them to attack me if I touch you." "I like her." He smiled at Jisoo before turning his attention back to you. "But, sorry sunshine, we have to go." Seungcheol ruffled your hair gently and stood up before leaving with the others. Jisoo smiled at you, put a quick kiss on the side of your head and followed his friends. When they left the library, you sighed loudly. Even if you acted like you were confident, you were shaking inside, afraid you could have upset them. Hours passed by so quickly and you didn't even notice when everyone left the school library, letting you alone, dived in your books. It was the cleaning lady who pulled you out of your reading, laughing at how focused you were. Picking up your stuff, you left the university and saw it was already dark outside. You startled when you felt your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jeans and, when you picked up the call, you heard your mom's voice. "Where are you, Y/n?" "Sorry, mom, I got locked in the school library. I just left." "Why am I not even surprised?" She laughed. "Be careful on the way, okay? We are leaving with dad." "Hm, hm." You hummed and hung up, starting to walk to your district. You weren't afraid of the dark, that was something you found relaxing sometimes, but this night, you had a bad feeling. Was it because of what Jisoo said? Or maybe his friends. You didn't know why but you weren't comfortable, walking alone in poorly lit areas. You even surprised yourself walking a little bit faster than usual, your hands gripping tightly your backpack straps. There was something that really scared you, something you couldn't see but feel, something dangerous. You went into another dark area and heard a laugh behind you. Jumping with fear, you turned and saw four shady silhouettes following you. Your eyes opened widely and you were about to run away when you saw four others shapes at the other side of the street. You were surrounded. You wanted to scream but no sounds left your mouth and you leaned your back against a wall, staring at the strangers who were coming closer to you. "Look at what he have, here." One of them said with a twangy voice. "A Taeyang student, exactly what we wanted." "Mom never told you it's dangerous to be alone at night?" Another teased. "Plea...please... Don't... don't hurt me..." You begged, tears reaching your eyes. "Why would we want to hurt you, baby? We just want to talk and, you know... get to know you better." An almost inaudible sound parted your lips when you felt a hand grab the skirt of your school uniform and you let your tears roll down your cheeks, thinking the worst. "Don't touch her." Someone growled in the dark. You opened your eyes wide, recognising the voice. It wasn't possible, what was he doing here? The men around you turned around and, frowning, tried to see who spoke. They moved in front of you and faced three other strangers who were standing at the end of the street. A gasp parted your lips when you felt an arm around your waist, pulling you away from your assailants. "Don't worry, Y/n, it's me." A man whispered to your ear as he buried your face onto his chest. "You're safe, now." You heard people walking by you and wanted to look at them but Jisoo held your head and asked you not to move, adding it was already over for, as he said, "these fucking bastards". You wrapped your arms around his middle and cried, letting all the tears you held run along your cheeks. "I have to help them." Jisoo whispered in your ear again. "Stay here, I'll be right back in a minute." You nodded against his chest and let him help his friends who were fighting against your aggressors. Like if it was stronger than you, you turned your head to the men and saw the "bad boys club" taking advantage on the others even if they were fewer in number. You also understood why Jisoo was a part of Seungcheol's group and what he meant when he spoke with you, a few hours earlier. The smile on Jisoo's lips wasn't the cute and adorable one you were used to see. In fact, it was like his whole face was different. Even in this poorly lit street you could see so much sadism in his eyes, so much pleasure in his predatory smile. He was like a blood-thirsty monster. His words came back to your mind: "Maybe I'm a monster". Yes, he was, a sadistic monster with an angelic face. After few minutes, the ones who attacked you lost against Seungcheol and his friends and ran away. Jisoo reached you quickly and, grabbed both your shoulders. "Y/n, are you okay?" He asked, eyes full of concern. "Are you hurt?" "I... I don't feel my... my... my legs..." You murmured before fainting. "Fuck, Y/n!" "She needs water." "We only have beers, jackass." "Get off." Eyes half closed, you felt a hand slipping to your neck, leaning back your head a little, and one of the guys helped you to drink two sips of beer. Disgusted by the taste of the drink, you winced as you opened your eyes and saw Minghao next to you, his hand on your neck. "Y/n, are you okay?" Jisoo asked again, cupping your face in his hands, looking like a sweet angel again. "Don't ever do that again." "So... sorry... I... I don't know what... I..." You stuttered before noticing all the bruises on Jisoo's face. You raised your head and saw his friends were in the same state. "Oh my God, are you okay?" You immediately asked, sincerely worried. "You're the one who fainted and you ask us if we're okay? You're such one of a kind, Y/n." Hansol chuckled as Jisoo helped you to stand up. "Come on." Mingyu smiled, before turning his back to you and inviting you to climb on his back. "We'll get you home, tonight." You wanted to refuse and thanked them for their help but Wonwoo left you no choice and put you onto Mingyu's back like you weighed the same as a feather. Jisoo took your bag and, after you told them where you lived, you all left the dark area. On the way, you asked how they knew you were in trouble and, nonchalantly, Wonwoo told you they followed you. They saw you leave the university late and they had preferred to follow you. Being alone in the night could be dangerous and they were right. You were surprised they could be worried about you but you found it very kind of them. "Here we are." Mingyu shouted when you reached your house. Seungcheol helped you to get off of his friend's back and Jisoo handed you your bag. You thanked them but it wasn't enough for you, you wanted to do more. "I have disinfectants and bandages, come on." You invited them as you unlocked the front door. "I'm not sure your parents-" Wonwoo started to say. "They're working at this time. And after what you did for me, I won't let you go like that. Are you hungry?" They shook their heads but you heard Hansol's stomach growling. Chuckling, you raised your eyebrows as Minghao hit the back of his friend's head. You opened the door and, with a cheeky smile, you said: "I promise, I won't bite." They laughed and went into your house, surprised that you let them in. They knew you weren't like the other girls of the university, you didn't try to date them or even be interested in them, you were more special, nice, sincere. Sneaking between them, you went into the living room and asked them to make themselves comfortable. At this, Seungcheol teased you and said that, if he could be make him comfortable, he would probably take off his shirt. "I'll try to help myself and not jump on you. Pinky promise." You giggled as you went to the bathroom, grabbing some medical products. Coming back in the main room, you ran into the guys who were looking at the decoration. You explained that, since your parents worked a lot, they came back to house only for taking showers or sleeping. You didn't see them much during the week. Therefore, it was like you lived here alone and you could decorate the house like you wanted. "No offense but I expected a lot of textbooks and notebooks everywhere." Hansol chuckled. "Not at home." You smiled as you put the disinfectants, ointments and bandages on the table. "I have some books, mostly novels and collections of poems, but no textbooks except the ones I need for school." "Who took the photos?" Mingyu asked, pointing at a some pictures hung on the wall. "Me." You replied shyly. "But you can look at them after, now, you need to clean your faces." They nodded and went around the table. "I'll see what I have in the fridge. Any allergies or food you don't like?" "You want to cook for us?" Jisoo asked, opening wide his eyes before seeing you nod with a sweet smile. "We're six but we eat for twelve." "My parents own a grocery store, they bring a lot of food for me. I can share with you, don't worry. So? Allergies?" They shook their heads and looked at you going into the kitchen. Like Hansol said, you really were one of a kind. You cooked a big plate of bibimbap for the boys, hearing them talking about your house, wondering how your bedroom was. From the kitchen, you shouted there was light grey walls, your desk with your computer, glowing stars on walls and ceiling, three stuffed animals in your bed, three full bookshelves, a lot of photos everywhere and a big panda drawn behind the door. Laughing, Jisoo said your bedroom seemed to be like you: sweet and cute. You poked your head out of the kitchen and stared at Jisoo, frowning a little. "What?" He asked. "Can't I say you're cute?" "Don't you realise how weird it is when you always tell me I'm cute?" "I do but you're-" "Yeah, we know, she's cute." Mingyu cut him off, making everyone laugh. You brought the big plate in the living room and ate with the boys, knowing them better, learning a lot of things you didn't expect about them. You were more than surprised when you saw they were really different from what you thought, how well mannered they all were. However, you also knew they were like that because they were with you, in your house; You didn't know how they acted with other people. But it wasn't your problem. They were nice with you, well, most of them at least since Minghao stayed the same, and that was all that mattered. The day after, your mom woke you up at 7am, saying a handsome young man was waiting for you outside the house. Frowning a little, you went to the front door, wearing your cute, but short, white pyjamas, and opened to the man. You froze when you saw Minghao. A strange smirk stretched the corner of his lips as he was looking at you. "Jisoo asked me to take you to the university." He said as you let him come in. "Y/n, who's this?" Your dad asked as he shook Minghao's hand. "It's Ming... Minghao, a... friend." You answered, awkwardly looking at the young man. "He helped me last night." "Oh! You're one of the boys who saved our dear Y/n?" You mom exclaimed as she took Minghao's hand in hers. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" "No... No need to... to thank me." Minghao shyly smiled before turning to you, a suprised look on his face. "You... You're not ready?" "I'll be in 20 minutes!" You said and ran into the bathroom before leaning your back against the door and look at your pyjamas. "Shit!" Like you said, you were ready to leave 20 minutes later. Minghao didn't say anything about the fact you didn't have breakfast and left with you. You saw a bike parked in front of your house and opened wide your eyes when he handed you a helmet. You gave him a confused look and froze when he put it on your head, locking it under your chin. "Where's yours?" You asked shyly. "On your head. I don't need one." He replied, sitting on his bike, inviting you to sit behind him. You did what he asked and felt the heat burn your cheeks when he took your arms and wrapped them around his middle. Hopefully, he couldn't see your bright red face. Ten minutes later, you arrived at the university, noticing all the students were looking at you both. Usually, you came alone so, seeing you coming with Minghao was more than surprising. Almost immediately, Jisoo jumped on you and hugged you from behind, asking how you were. You talked with them until the bell rang. Sitting at your usual desk, you were listening to the professor, trying not to pay attention at Seungcheol who was fooling in the back of the class when the door opened abruptly. The Principal, followed by Hansol, Wonwoo and Mingyu, was furious and yelled at the three other young men, letting everyone know that they fought last night with students from another university. You lowered your head, feeling guilty because you were the reason of this fight, but Jisoo grabbed discreetly your hand and whispered it was okay. "I'm sick of your mess!" The Principal shouted. "Why did you fight with them?!" "We were bored." Seungcheol answered nonchalantly. "I'll suspend you!" Your heart skipped a beat and your eyes opened widely. They would be suspended because of you, because they didn't want to say they helped you, because they were still protecting you. You couldn't accept that. Suddenly, you stood up, trying to avoid all the gazes that were on you. Seungcheol told you to sit back but you stayed up. Swallowing, you raised your head and, looking straight into the Principal's eyes, you said: "They did this for me."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ⁓•⁓ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Thank you for reading! 💜 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ⁓•⁓

[wannabemerida]

I had so much fun writing my first kid fic with the help of my beta, @heartthrobphilly  and basing it off of @bluevlvvt ’s artwork (the link above!) —— Word count: 2.6k Prompt: Phil offers to drive his friends daughter (lola) to her ballet lesson. he runs into a cute dad with his daughter rosie. he offers to drive lola to her ballet lessons every week after that. (slow plot development lol) Warnings: light cursing, angst —— It’s 3:02pm as Phil waits outside of Brookside Elementary School. According to Ian, Lola usually exits through this door and waits to be retrieved from the playground. So far, there’s no sign of the little blonde girl playing outside.

A shout of “Uncle Phil!” catches his attention and he turns around to the soccer pitch just in time to see the kindergartener running at him, embracing him in a hug when they collide. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m taking care of you tonight, remember? Your dad has a big business dinner, and your mom is in Wolverhampton for her job, yeah?”

“Ohhhhh, I just thought Grandma would be taking care of me again,” the six year old explains, not seeming particularly fussed.

“C’mon, let’s head home.”

Two hours later when Phil suggests they order Chinese to the brick house, Lola quickly shuts his craving down. “Uncle Phil, we can’t have Chinese tonight, Thursdays are always Kraft Dinner nights, dummy!”

“Hey Lola, are you done with your dinner? You have ballet soon and still need to get ready!” Seeing Lola’s face that has a bit of the cheesy noodles left on it from quickly scarfing down her meal, Phil grabs a paper towel from the roll on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah! Do you have my leotard?” Phil grabs the light green leotard out of the overnight bag that Lola had brought along, handing it to her with the napkin, (“Lols, you’re a mess!”) her slippers, and a pair of tights.

The drive to the Portner Ballet Studio takes about 15 minutes, with Phil accidentally hitting every red light possible. This causes Lola some distress, claiming that the five minutes she has before class “isn’t enough to talk to Rosie, and she’s the only nice one there that I like.”

Nevertheless, when the raven-haired man and his favorite “niece” enter the building, a small girl with fluffy brown hair immediately runs up to Lola and hugs her. “Rosie, this is my Uncle Phil!

“Lola! You’re finally here! Daddy said you might not be coming today because you’re normally here before me,” the brunette pauses, “but you’re here now, see, Daddy? I told you she would come!”

Phil is frozen. The man who walks up behind Rosie is the most beautiful person Phil has seen, and that’s saying something, considering that Chris Hemsworth exists. But no, the curly brown fringe, hazel eyes, tall, lanky stature, and his soft face (not to mention his monochrome aesthetic and “best dad in the world” travel mug) easily outrank even the likes of Thor.

“Um, hey?” Phil is snapped out of his trance, needing to be able to respond to the greeting. “You’re Lola’s uncle?”

“Well, um, sort of? I’m really good family friends with Lola’s dad, and so I’m kind of an unofficial uncle to her.” Had he been responding to anything else, Phil probably would’ve stuttered, but the number of times he’s had to explain the title makes it so he can explain perfectly, even in front of someone this stunning.

“I’m- I’m Dan.” The two men glance over at the young girls who are chattering animatedly.

“Oh, yeah, Phil Lester.” Dan holds his hand out for a handshake.

“Rosie’s my daughter,” he says quietly, but there’s no mistaking the fondness he has when he says it.

“I can tell, she looks just like you, without the black and white.”

“Oh, I guess we do? My parents keep saying she looks like, um, Angie-” Dan’s voice decrescendos as he gets further along his sentence.

“Angie … is Rosie’s mom?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Phil’s heart drops.

“Cool.” Not cool. Dan has a wife. Dan had a kid. With his wife.

“Have you got any kids?” Dan asks, a light blush still visible across his cheeks.

“Ah, no, I didn’t have time to find someone in Uni and now I’m single with 2 masters degrees.” Phil unconsciously plots a way to make himself seem more interesting.

“What are they in?” Dan asks, looking genuinely curious.

“I got my first one in English language and linguistics, and my second in post-production editing.”

“What do you do with those? How do they fit together?”

“I’m a special effects engineer for Disney, and they don’t really fit together to be honest,” Phil pauses, “although I do make YouTube videos and that kind of meshes them together,”

“Wow, um, cool,” Dan stutters.

“So what about you?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your job, besides ‘best dad in the world’?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m stupid.” Phil giggles, thinking of how his father would reply with ‘Hi stupid, I’m dad!’. “But I’m a writer for Vogue and I dabble in fashion photography. It’s mainly just taking photos of Rosie if I’m being honest, but the photographers sometimes get sick and I end up doing the shoot.”

“Vogue? Like, the fashion magazine?” Phil doesn’t know much about fashion, but he’s seen the magazine numerous times in the Tesco checkout lane.

“Yeah, well, technically it’s British Vogue, but…”

“Yeah.”

There’s a calm but slightly awkward silence as the conversation loses direction. The two men avoid eye contact, not wanting to make it worse.

The silence is broken by Dan’s tenor voice. “So what films have you worked on?”

“I got to work a bit on Spiderman: Homecoming, but the Live-action Beauty and the Beast was pretty fun. You know the scene where the gold leaf comes off of the ceiling to go on Belle’s dress?” When Dan nods, Phil breaks out into a grin. “That was me.”

“Wow.” Dan breathes out. “After she saw that, she kept trying to put stickers on her ceiling in the hopes that they would transfer to her shirt. It was a nightmare.”

“Ah, sorry.”

“Nah mate, it was kind of funny as well. I’ve got a few photos that I’ll save for when she graduates.”

“She’ll love that,” Phil chuckles, and the deep, throaty sound makes Dan’s heart stutter. “So you’re into fashion?”

Dan blushes. “Yeah? I mean I can’t really afford any designers, but I’ll turn into a fanboy at times.”

“Why do they charge so much? Like, half of the suits these designers make look identical to something I could buy from a department store for thousands of dollars less.”

“Well, a lot of designers carefully hand-make every piece, whereas the stuff you get in a store has probably been made by a pre-programmed machine and poorly paid workers in a factory. There’s also differences in fabric types, quality, and origins. And, a lot of designers will tailor the suit to perfectly fit you for a slightly higher price. If you go to a department store-”

“I see what you mean when you say you turn into a fanboy, but thank you for the mini lesson on why celebrities are willing to spend so much money on a navy tux. Your insights are amusing.” Phil grins.

“Did you also know that navy suits are better investments than black ones? It’s because the blue fits into so many more settings than a black one.”

While Phil could watch Dan talk about his passions for hours, just watching and memorizing how the lines change across his face, and God, that dimple, Phil supposes his relentless staring would get a bit creepy. “So what are the ballet lessons like? I’ve only been to a few of Lola’s performances.”

“Oh, um, well, they spend the first 20 minutes warming up, and then they move to the barre where they practice a bunch of stuff that’s in French that I can’t remember, and then they start to go over the routine for their next performance.”

“What is it?”

“What?”

“Their next performance?”

“Yeah! Sorry, I’m stupid,” Dan blushes for what must be the fiftieth time since he first met Phil. “The studio is putting on The Firebird.”

“No! Um, I mean, you’re not stupid. I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with The Firebird. What is it about?” Phil has heard the name before, but only in the context of movie scores resembling Stravinsky’s composition. “It sounds kind of intense, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know much, but from what Rosie’s told me, the firebird gets caught by a prince and when he lets her go she helps him defeat the magician to save some princess, but I’m pretty sure I’m missing like half of the plot. I would say to just Google it and not to go by my word,” The nervous laughter emitted by Dan makes Phil instantly worry that he might have made the brunet uncomfortable or misread Dan’s friendliness as a blossoming friendship when it might have been a ploy to gather gossip for the nosy ballet moms.

“Thanks, I think I’ll trust you on that.” Dan offers a small smile at Phil’s response, letting the two men fall into silence as they watch the group of young girls and 3 boys practice their pliés and dégagés. An hour and a half later, the children exit the studio and find their guardians to go home.

“It was nice meeting you, Phil,’’ Dan admits as Rosie and Lola exchange a goodbye hug. The six words send Phil’s heart into overdrive and he feels his cheeks heating up.

“Yeah, you too, Dan,” Phil replies, proud of himself for not tripping over his words. Looking back, Phil’s whole interaction was impressive, considering his track record of ending up injured in some way.

Last time, Phil wound up with a broken ankle, having paid more attention to the cute digital renderer than the set of stairs they were walking down. It wasn’t all for nothing, though, Phil having gained the cute man’s phone number. Not that that did much for his love life, finding out two days that the boy he had his eyes on was dating the very female gaffer of their most recent movie, but that’s not the point.

This time, nothing will happen, because a) Phil dropping Lola off at ballet was a one time thing, so most likely, he’ll never see Dan again, and b) Dan has a daughter, who is his genetically, which means he has (or had) a wife, all summarizing that no matter how cute the brunet is, Dan is straight.

Not that Phil’s brain will accept that Dan is off-limits as a possible partner. Over the next few days, the image of soft brown eyes, curly fringes, and lanky limbs continuously make appearances in the back of Phil’s head. The very effective distractions cause Phil’s co-workers to worry, and PJ’s repetitive “have you been sleeping okay?”s have driven Phil to the point of insanity.

The answer to PJ’s question is quite easily “no”, Phil having only slept well once that week (he refused to admit it but that was the night that he got off to the image of a faceless figure who looked suspiciously like the boy who wouldn’t leave his head.)

By Wednesday, Phil was fed up with his brain’s reaction to not having seen Dan since the previous Thursday. Pulling out his phone, he does the only thing he can think of to satisfy his hungry mind. He calls Ian.

“Phil? Do you need something?” is the answer he gets when Ian finally picks up.

“No, um, I was just wondering, would you like me to take Lola to ballet again tomorrow?” Phil looks at the lines he had written down on a notepad, an effort to keep himself from going into a 20-minute rant about how in love with Dan he is.

“Sure, I guess? Why are you offering?”

“Just thought that you and Pam could use a break,”

“Oh, okay then, thanks! Same as last week?”

“Sure! Talk to you later!”

Phil’s convinced that his squeal of excitement was the reason that the people who lived across the street turned their lights on and not the fact that their smoke detector went off. He probably set that off too, in hindsight. And caused the stove fire.

23 hours later, Phil finds himself standing inside the dance studio again, surrounded by shrieking kids, chattering parents, and the faint sound of the top 20 radio playing in the background.

“Mister Phil! Where’s Lola?” Rosie pulls on Phil’s sleeve, stopping when she sees her best friend walk out of the bathroom.

“Why, Miss Rosie, she’s right there!” Rosie giggles, pulling out of a hug with Lola.

“I know that now, silly.” She and Lola run into the studio, eager to get to do the optional partner stretches before class starts.

“Are you Lola’s father?” A woman dressed in a skirt suit and heels walks up behind Phil.

“Oh, no, I’m just a family friend. I occasionally take Lola to ballet to give her parents some alone time.”

“Ah.” The woman sticks her hand out for a handshake. “I’m Angela Wright, Rosie’s mom.”

Had there been a small creature under it, Phil’s heart would have killed it from the speed at which it fell. He knew that Rosie had a mom, that Dan had a wife, that Dan wasn’t available. So why did it still hurt so much?

“Oh, cool,” Phil responds a moment later, his voice considerably deflated.

Phil’s unspoken question is answered right as it pops into is head. “Dan contracted the flu, and is stuck at home in bed, which is why I’m here this week. I’m normally responsible for taking Rosie to taekwondo while he takes care of ballet lessons, but that evidently won’t work this week. Honestly, it’s just like Dan to get a winter disease in the middle of summer.”

“I was going to ask about setting up a playdate between Rosie and Lola, but…” Angie trails off.

“Yeah,” Phil nods in understanding, not liking this woman any more than he did a minute ago. “I’m gonna go sit down.” No response comes from the woman, but Phil’s not particularly bothered.

Maybe he should be nicer to the wife of the man he’s stupidly trying to woo, but he just can’t. How is he supposed to be nice to his competition, who’s already clearly won?

When he vaguely notices the ballet instructor make a big motion with her arms, Phil decides that watching a group of five and six year olds is an adequate distraction from the turmoil in his brain. After 10 minutes of watching the kids do various tasks, jumping and prancing around the room, he zones off.

“Uncle Phillll, come onnnnnnn!” wakes Phil from his trance, no longer seeing the ballet students in the studio but now milling around the lobby and leaving. “Class ended like, forever ago! Can we leave? I wanna go get ice cream!”

A quick look at the clock told Phil that class had only ended 5 minutes ago, but to an antsy six-year-old, he supposed that could feel like an eternity.

“Lola, we aren’t getting ice cream. I’d rather not have your parents be mad at me for loading you up on sugar, right?” The small girl pouts but grabs Phil’s hand, dragging him to the car.

While it was easy getting Lola into her car seat, getting her out was a whole other task. It took Phil, Ian, Pamela, a blanket, 2 stuffed animals, and a lullaby to successfully remove the sleeping child out of the carseat, into the house, and onto her bed where she could sleep without interruption.

Once he was back in his car, Phil sat in the driveway, resting his head on the steering wheel, regretting ever offering to take Lola to dance lessons at all. Remember back in college when all those crushes were single? You fucked up, bud.

[funkymeihem-fiction]

He Don’t Mean It- Chapter 9

The top of the sun had barely just started to crest over the horizon by the time she got there. Out of breath, with her lungs burning and her head pounding, she hurried over the cracked pavement and under buzzing and crackling overhead lights, into the run down old bus station. Like most bus stations, it was an ancient and outdated affair, with a dreary cement building attached to an outdoor terminal. Hoverbuses had been a dwindling business for decades after flight had been made so common and affordable, and now only the poorest of the poor were reduced to ground-based travel over such long distances.

At least that meant that even her frumpy and battered appearance wasn’t anything noteworthy in this place. Suffice to say it was a ‘rough’ crowd, even compared to what she was used to back at Overwatch…She was pretty sure she wasn’t the only one with blood on her, either. Despite the early morning hour, the bus station was already fairly crowded with people, although which were travelers and which were simply living at the station was impossible to tell. She had to hop over the outstretched legs of an old omnic that was down on his luck and surrounded by empty bottles, with two cardboard signs (one in English and one in Binary) asking for money and blessings.

Technically, she wasn’t supposed to intrude into the outdoor area without buying a ticket, but it looked like nobody was heeding the rules about sleeping on the steps either, so she paid them no mind. Pushing through the crowd as politely as she was able, she bypassed the columns and chains and made a beeline for the actual buses. Nobody, not even the two security officers sharing donuts and coffee in a corner, paid her any notice at all.

She saw no sign of anyone standing head and shoulders over anyone else with a fluffy head of blond hair, and there was no familiar click-clack of a metal peg leg. Nothing but the rumbling of the old bus engines, the hush of conversation from the patrons, and the occasional tinny announcements over the loudspeakers. Lifting onto her tiptoes, she desperately tried to find any trace of Junkrat.

Nothing.

“Excuse me! Sir, sir?” She hurried over to a nearby porter, who was loading luggage onto a cargo cart and merely fixed her with a dispassionate stare as she approached. She tried to smile anyway. “Sorry to bother you, but is there a bus leaving soon?”

“There’s a lot of buses leaving soon. Morning schedule’s are over there.”

“No, I’m sorry. What’s the very first bus to leave?”

“You looking for the 2-94 for 6:15? Already missed it.”

Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. “I-it’s gone?”

The man shrugged and pointed. “Just about.”

She turned to look in that direction, and saw that just beyond his pointing finger, the glowing red tail lights of one of the hoverbuses was already moving away from her. Down the line, it was starting to pull out into the station’s drive, out towards the main roads.

Her heart leapt up again, but this time all the way up into her throat. Before she even knew what was happening, she was moving again. Physically pushing past the porter and not hearing his yelled protests, she staggered into an all-out run once more, even faster and more desperate than before. Pain exploded in her jostled brain and she barely felt it, eyes on those glowing taillights and how they were getting further away.

“Jamison!” she screamed after it. “Jamie! JAMIE, COME BACK!”

People were definitely looking at her now, at the small woman running at breakneck speed along the very edge of the sidewalk, pushing through the parting crowds, shoving her way through a gathering line, and leaping over an errant suitcase. She remained fixated on those lights, and luckily it slowed down as it neared the exit to the station. Even with her vision blurring a bit on the edges and her lungs hurting from her speed burst, she managed to start to catch up to it. She tried to glance up at the windows, maybe to see if there was a familiar face looking back at her, but there was no time, not when she had to stop the whole darn thing.

Pounding a fist on the side of the bus as she ran, she stumbled alongside the moving vehicle until she came to the door. Swinging up next to it, she banged fretfully on the glass, red-faced and wild-eyed.

“Wait! Stop the bus! Please stop!”

Through the foggy panes, she saw the unimpressed glare of the woman driving the bus. Whoever she was, she did not seem impressed by Mei’s antics whatsoever. She didn’t even react, just gave her a roll of the eyes and ignored her just as she had ignored the hundreds of others who had been late for the bus over the years. Pulling up to pause just before she turned out into the roaring traffic nearby, the driver cast another glance to the door to make sure the crazy Asian lady was gone.

Which she seemed to be, so she pulled the bus forward and started to hit the accelerator…

The whole bus jolted strangely a moment later, when her foot leapt from the accelerator to the brakes, the force of the stop sending the back half of the bus slightly up into the air. If it had still had tires, they surely would have been screeching to a halt.

Mei stood in front of the vehicle’s path in the road, both arms spread, with her hair in her face, her glasses hanging crooked on her ears, and her head turned to the side as if expecting to be struck. She cringed and clenched both eyes shut, afraid to even look. The bus’s brakes roared just in front of her, the grill hovering barely a foot away. From further down the station and inside the bus itself, there was faint shouting.

But it had stopped.

She peeked open one eye slowly, shoulders slumping a bit in clear relief. The shouting back at the station was growing louder now, and around the corner of the bus’s grills she could see the security guards headed in her direction. The relief in her was short lived, but she stood her ground, lifting her arms once more as she blocked the only way out.

“Wait! Please just stop, I can explain-!”

Curious faces were starting to press to the windows inside the vehicle, along with hushed muttering and grumbling and even a bit of laughter at their predicament. Near the very back, a tall and lanky figure dressed in a ragged gray hoodie looked up from where he had been slumped in his seat, one arm wrapped protectively around his single bag. Opening a pair of vivid yellow eyes, he growled and stumbled upright, peg leg clacking on the slatted metal floors as he pushed up to the front.

“Hey! Why aren’t we movin’ this hunk of junk already!”

The bus driver snorted irritably. “Crazy lady jumped in the road.”

“Bloody hell, then just run ‘em over, let’s get going! Come on, come on!”

“Law don’t permit it. Security’ll get her.”

“Fockin’ hell, who’s stupid enough to-” Scowling, he joined the driver up by the very front window, peering out and watching the blue uniform of the guard who rushed past, to the little Chinese woman in the stained pajamas who was…”-hold up…the….Wait a tick, is that-?…Oh, fuck me! Open the door! Open the goddamn door!”

The driver shrugged and opened the doors, and Junkrat shoved his pack onto his back and skipped the steps altogether, leaping past them and onto the pavement with a clatter of mechanical parts. Pivoting on his peg leg like a ballerina, he turned and saw that the man in the blue security uniform had already set upon her. Mei was cringing back, crying something aloud that he couldn’t hear through the ringing, as the guard put his filthy hands on both her arms and started trying to drag her with him. Rage flooded through him, gasoline in his veins as flames lit up behind his eyesockets and he lunged after them.

Both hands curled into claws as they landed upon the officer and all but ripped him off her, physically lifting the man into the air and throwing him further into the road. The security man rounded on them both again…and found himself faced with nearly seven feet of enraged Australian junker, stretching up to his full height and his eyes glowing wildly in the shadow of his hoodie as he put himself between them.

“Yeah, nah! Try it! Fuckin’ try it! I’ll bloody go ya, mate!”

The guard opted out and backed down and sidled away back towards safety, both hands lifted. Junkrat turned on Mei next, wrapped both lanky arms around her, and lifted her as well, hauling her in wild steps out of the path of the bus and depositing her back on the sidewalk. Just behind him, with barely inches to spare and so close that he could almost feel the metal sides of the vehicle shaving his back, the bus driver hit the pedal and peeled out out onto the main road. Clearly, she paid no mind to the human drama playing out before her, but such was the case with most bus drivers, anywhere he had known.

He stood there for a moment, watching his escape grow further away, then slowly looked down to where he was nearly suffocating Mei in his embrace, her face pressed against his hoodie and his arms still locked around her in a near-death grip. Releasing her just enough that she could scrape in a breath, he grabbed onto her shoulders instead, leaning down to her much shorter height. “Mei! What the shit? What the shit?”

She was trembling wildly and didn’t answer him. With a low and frustrated growl, he stood and promptly buried her face back into his hoodie and wrapped her back up in both arms as he loomed over her, sending a vicious glare in the direction of the security guards that were gathering further up the line. Eyes darting, his metal fingers pressed covetously to the back of her head, stroking her bloody hair and daring anyone to get any closer. Still, he questioned her. “Really though, darl, what the shit was that? How’d ya even?”

Her voice was muffled against his ribs. “I found you. I remembered one of your stories.”

“Eh?”

She looked up at him, one eye peeking above her crooked glasses. “You told me a story one time about how you escaped the police by letting yourself be seen heading towards an airport so they would be busy setting up a sting operation there…but you said that you doubled back and took a bus to a different inland airport and got away.”

“I did?”

She nodded up at him.

“…Ya remembered that? Ya listened to me?”

“Of course I listened to you. I mean…Not everything, sometimes you talk a lot. But I listen to a lot of it. I remember a lot of your stories-”

She found her head being pressed back against him, his arms tightening in another overzealous embrace as he clutched onto her, rocked back and forth in his grasp. He looked strangely conflicted, teeth gritting and still glaring daggers at the wary security guards and the little crowd nearby. “Ya gave me a bloody coronary, there. Damned fool thing, that. Jumpin’ in front of a bus. And they say I’m the mad one?”

“I had to stop you! Nobody was listening to me so I just…I didn’t know what else to do. I just had to stop the bus and get you.”

Slowly, his arms disentangled from around her, and he let her drop back to the ground where he had been holding her on the tips of her toes. Lifting himself away from her, he ignored the way she tried to keep her hold on him, wrapped around his skinny waist. With a snort, he even went to push her away a bit. “Well!…Waste of time for both of us then, wasn’t it? You’re safe now, so you can fuck off back to your little pals in Overwatch. And me? I’ve scarpered, I’ve fucked off too. Everyone’s happy. Now piss off!”

That one stung a bit, but she had just narrowly missed being hit by a bus to get to him, and she wasn’t about to let go now. Even when he was physically trying to pry her off. “No!”

“The fuck is all this? You tell me to go away, I go away. Now you’re here throwing yourself at cars to catch me?…Wait a sec.” His eyes narrowed. “They sent you to hold me up for a bit, eh? Cavalry’s right behind you, going to take me down while I’m unawares? I’m onto you lot, now! Gettoff!”

“No! Nobody’s here to catch you except me. And the others are just worried about you, we all are.”

“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on!”

“…What?”

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “Nothing! Bloody hell, woman, I did the last n’ final thing you ask me to do. I left. Now you’re gonna be mad at me for that too?”

“I didn’t want you to leave!” she protested, “I just…I wanted you to leave me alone for a bit! That’s all. After what happened. I was mad, and scared, and sad, and hurt, and…and I still am. But I never wanted you to leave. That’s part of the reason I was so mad at you first, was because you were going to leave with Mr. Roadhog-”

Junkrat snarled above her. “Fuck Roadhog! Yeah, ya heard right. Fuck him. I give up everything, everything, even gave up my girl and my own teeth, to keep his fat arse safe from them reprogramming his brain, and what’s he do? He goes and seduces your big Russian pal the second I turn my back! Fuckin’ thankless, that is.”

Mei scowled at him right back. “Do you even understand why I’m mad at you, Jamison?! You just admitted that you let me get hurt and you’re willing to leave me after you promised you wouldn’t! You didn’t even tell me about him doing this! After everything we went through together?”

“That’s not fair! It’s not like th-”

“You just said it, five seconds ago! You gave up everything for Mr. Roadhog to…” She blinked. “Wait, him and Zarya? Really?”

“Right? I mean, who woulda thunk it? I walked right in on ‘em all cuddly kissy-like.”

“Nooo…Are you sure?”

“I’m positive! That’s my point. You can’t fuckin’ trust anyone these days, not even your own best mate who beats the shite out of you, or your girl who’s gonna give you up to the authorities…” He narrowed his eyes down at her in an accusatory way that she did not like at all.

“You know who the ‘authorities’ are, Jamison?” she snapped, “It’s Ana. She came knocking on my door because she was worried about you. She’s with Roadhog and Zarya now to make sure they’re not hurt. She wants to make sure you’re not hurt either.”

He did falter a bit at that, bushy eyebrows slacking from their angry furrowing. “Yeah, well…Bit late for that, ain’t it? Now nan’s a good sort, but she’s real no-nonsense. Oil n’ water, that’s me and Overwatch. Should’ve known this whole ‘going legit’ thing was going to end just as bad as all the other times.”

She couldn’t help herself. “Well, maybe if you’d stop sabotaging yourself it could actually work! Maybe if you actually let me help fix it!”

The crowd that was still lingering nearby seemed confused. What was supposed to be a heartfelt reunion between two apparent lovers was dissolving into another fight, right before their very eyes. A few murmurs swept through them. Even the security guards looked quite taken aback at this dramatic turn of events.

Junkrat bared his teeth once more, though its fierce effect was slightly lessened by the gap on one side. He stretched upright and bristled with fury and somehow seemed even taller and bigger than before. “Oh! Ooooh there it is! There it bloody is! Just gonna fix me, is that it? Always the fixing!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“Well it’s what you meant, isn’t it? I told you, I know I’m mental, I know my kettle’s utterly boiled dry. Ya don’t always get me, I know. But you can’t just…I ain’t some headcase project for you to fix up, like then I’ll be right as rain, and then I’ll be what you want! But you think I keep messin’ it up, and you’re frustrated because I’m not where you think I should be! I know what’s behind all those little looks you give me when it goes bad. Wishin’ you could reprogram my brain, how I am. Tell me that’s wrong, Mei! Look right at me and say it’s not truth!” He fixed her with his wild stare, pupils tiny specks of black against blazing yellow, waiting for her to speak.

Mei looked back at him, setting her jaw stubbornly. Her face twitched a bit, mouth opening a few times as if she was trying to put her thoughts in order. To explain to him how he was wrong, how that wasn’t it at all. How she wasn’t frustrated that they kept getting into trouble, because he wasn’t doing what he should have, and she wasn’t helping him right, and he was supposed to be doing…doing better, than this! Just getting her thoughts in order, to tell him he was wrong yet again.

But the words wouldn’t come.

“Yeah…Yeah, thought that was it.” There was something simmering under his voice, past the anger. Something just as sad and frustrated as she was, even if not for the same reasons.

“That’s not what I meant. If you’d just let me explain!”

“How about I shut the door on you while you’re trying to explain? Ain’t that what we’re doing nowadays?”

“That’s not fair-”

“Ain’t it?”

The two looked at each other. Anger and resentment still roiled inside her, and clearly in him. They’d been at odds before. From the very time they had met, they had clashed and butted heads and had been at odds like their two conflicting elements belied. He burned and consumed and destroyed, but rose to build new and different things from the ashes. She froze and fixed and preserved, but much of her efforts ended in mourning and atrophy. There were times when they complimented each other so well that one could no longer imagine being without the other, but then there were times when their differences seemed insurmountable.

She finally let go of him, tightening her fists by her sides and looking away. “This isn’t how this was supposed to go.”

“H’yeah, well, when is that the case for either of us? Nothing ever works out.” he said bitterly.

The crowd by the bus station very quietly dispersed off into different directions. Even the security officers kept well clear, leaving the two alone to their misery together.

Junkrat watched the crowd go, though his eyes darted down a moment later when he heard her sniffle loudly, wiping at her cheek with the back of her bruised hand. She was crying again, and it always hurt him to see her cry like that. He even groaned a little, rubbing uneasily at his bruised face. “Now, darl…I mean, Mei…”

“Can’t we just…Can’t we keep trying, though?” she asked quietly, rubbing more tears away and not looking at him. “I know we’re mad at each other. I’m sorry that I’m mad, but I am. I’m really mad at you. And I know you’re mad at me.”

“Nnngh…”

Another sniffle, even though he could tell she was trying to keep her voice even. “But I don’t want you to leave. I never wanted you to leave…me.”

His eyes rolled skyward, expression pained. Damn those tears of hers, they could wear down his defenses like nothing else in the world. “Then…There’s a bus comin’ up in a few minutes. You can come with. We can talk it over or whatever. You can come with me. We’ll head off, darl, you and me. Maybe back to Oz. Find us a place just for us! Out somewhere where nobody can ever bother us. Or uh…Maybe to China somewheres? Yeah, China’s real big! We can get a place there, too. Get us some chooks and grow beans or something? Maybe get some pigs, Roadie always had a thing for…I mean! No! Fuck Roadie, and the Russian, and everyone else! I don’t need any sort of pig around at all! We don’t need ‘em!”

This time, she just let him ramble on, and did not interrupt. So he kept going.

“I’m real good at buildin’, so I can build us a place. Or we can just take one! Finders keepers, eh? And then we’ll just live as we please, just the two of us, after we’ve made up. You an’ me! I mean, maybe we could invite Hana and Lucio around sometimes? Never did beat Hana at skeeball, but I’m near to it. And Lucio’s a good’un, almost too good. I guess maybe if Nan’s real concerned, she can pop in for tea on occasion. And the big German what yells all the time! Now he’s a great big example of something or other! Bet he’d make a great new bodyguard. I’ll hire him on, take lots of pictures of us together and then rub them in Roadie’s fat, stupid face!”

She rubbed at her arm with a little nod. “You’re really mad at Mr. Roadhog too, aren’t you? A lot?”

“Tuh, like that’s not obvious. He messed it all up. It was fine when it was just us. Could handle those times when he didn’t know what was what or who I was. I know he don’t mean it. But he…” He trailed off, looking conflicted again. “He hurt ya real bad, Mei.”

“He hurt you too.”

“Yeah, well. All the more reason for us to just fuck off, then.”

Which was true enough. Every couple of months, he had to scramble for his life, away from the man who was supposed to protect his life. He’d gotten good at it, keeping low and out of sight, and even he knew to be quiet when Roadhog was on the warpath. He’d gotten used to it, even. Really, what was one more source of bruises or broken bones to someone like him? But hurting Mei…? Unthinkable. Possibly unforgivable.

His mind was already whirring with alternatives. This time, it wouldn’t technically be abducting Mei if she just went with him. They could go on the lam together, a sort of Bonnie and Clyde vibe…just without robbing banks or breaking the law, and always wearing seatbelts and looking both ways when they crossed the street. They could flip the bird to the rest of the world and to Overwatch, except for his friends and the ones he liked, of course. And then they would…Well, he wasn’t entirely sure what they would do. And with the sad look, she was still giving him, his plans were dying before they could even be fully imagined, rotting on the vine.

“But…you won’t fuck off, will you? Not with me?”

“…I can’t. I can’t just leave everyone, or my work, or everything here. And I don’t want to leave you. No matter how mad I am. I don’t want you to go. Nobody wants you to go. Before I left, Ana and Mr. Roadhog and even Zarya said they hoped I could get here in time to bring you back.” She tilted her head up at him, cheeks still wet and glasses a little smeared with moisture. “I’m not the only one who would miss you.”

“Heh. Roadhog, missin’ me? That’s a good one, mate. He sure wasn’t missin’ me with his fists, was he?”

“I’m…not really happy with him either, at the moment. It’s like you said. He didn’t know where he was, or what was happening. And he didn’t mean it, I don’t think. But that’s not something you deal with by just letting it happen, or by trying to hide it. Ana and the others can help him better than we can, Jamie,” she said. Very, very cautiously, she reached up towards him again with one hand, half expecting it to be slapped away or for him to jerk back. And for half a moment, he looked like he might do just that. But then his brows relaxed when the tips of her fingers touched his cheek, sliding them across the bruised and swollen skin by his black eye. “I’m not saying you should just forgive him, like you’ve been doing. But just leaving him behind won’t help him either. We don’t leave each other behind, remember?”

His brows knitted again, but he leaned down into her touch. “Ya shut me out, love. I was tryin’ to explain to you. I was. But the words didn’t come out right and you just kept saying I wouldn’t understand, I wasn’t understanding. D’ya know how shit that is, when I’m tryin’? Shutting the door in my face and yelling for me to go away, then yelling at me for going away?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry for that. I was scared and hurt and frustrated and…Everything was a mess. It’s all a big complicated mess. Maybe we shouldn’t talk everything over just standing here at the bus stop? I think we might be in trouble with the guards already. We can go home and start working through things there, though? Will you come back with me? ….Please?”

Mei reached for him again, tentatively and clearly still wary. Her hand slid from his cheek, down his frumpy hoodie and down to his ribs. Joined by her other arm, she tried to hug him. It was always a slightly comical sight, her being so much shorter than him and left trying to embrace his beanpole frame when she couldn’t even reach his shoulders. And at first, it simply didn’t work. He didn’t embrace her back for a time, and she was left clutching uselessly onto his looming form. Her heart fairly shriveled inside her chest, and she started to draw back and apologize.

But then he bent his long and lanky spine, and his arms opened and hesitantly circled around her. That serpent-like grasp coiled around her, drawing her in and wrapping her up. She was lifted up to the tops of her toes, and she felt his fingers splay out across her back, metal and flesh pressing her in against him. For a moment it seemed like he wanted to kiss her, moving his bruised face to the side until his lips touched her hair. But he did not move any further from there, and she did not move to meet his lips.

So they just held onto one another, until she was warmed up and he had cooled down. And finally, with a shuddering sigh, he released her. His hoodie had rumpled and gone astray, and his hood had fallen off so that his wild blond tufts of hair were sticking out all over. And he was still as messy and spattered with blood as she was. To the outsiders watching, they probably looked utterly deranged. And maybe, in a sense, they were, if they both seemed willing to try again.

But that was one thing they had in common, no matter how they disagreed. They kept going and they tried again.

“Yeah…Arright, Snowflake. Arright. Only for you, though!”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

Junkrat ran his tongue around the gap of his missing tooth, hesitating. “…Am I in trouble, d’you think?”

“Maybe a little bit. But just for keeping it a secret. But this isn’t like military Overwatch. They’re not going to kick you out, they’re going to try and help you out. Because you’re one of us,” she nodded up at him, “They’ll want to see you in the med ward first, to help with the swelling and put your tooth back in. I’ll be in for this nasty thing on the side of my head. And…all four of us are going to get a scolding from Ana, so be ready for that.”

He groaned aloud. “Oh hell, she’s going to do that thing where she sighs and folds her arms and gives you the look.”

“Pharah survived it. Maybe we will too? So…Will you come with me? Can we go home, please?”

With a groan, he shouldered his pack and cast one last look around the decrepit bus station. “What if I just lived here from now on?”

“I think it might be too gross here even for you,” she said with a little faint smile, with one last sniffle and a wipe at her eyes, pulling off her glasses and wiping them on the edge of her sweatshirt. “I’m a little scared of whatever that smell was, on the front steps?”

“Gotta be honest, darl, I’m not smelling much right now asides a kinda copper blood odeur and what I really hope is lemon?”

Her smile shifted into a frown of concern, taking his hand and tugging him towards the exit. “Okay, we’re taking you to the med bay right away. Come on.”

Looking down at where she was pulling at him, he let his mechanical fingers tighten around her much smaller ones, as the much tinier woman started to lead him away. As they neared the exit, the security guard he had roughed up earlier shot him a dirty look. With a crooked, swollen sneer, Junkrat launched out one arm, swinging at him. The errant guard cringed away, then blinked when he realized that he had not been struck and he was now missing the donut he had been holding. The massive junker was now loping away from him, munching on the sticky iced treat while his tiny traffic-jumping companion seemed none the wiser.

Grumbling and turning back to his coffee, he decided to let it go. There had already been more than enough drama with those two for today.