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leebrontide · 11 months

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Secondhand Origin Stories, Chapter 13

Here's this week's chapter! Reblogs welcome!

For those of you just joining us, I'm posting a chapter a week of my free near future scifi/low neon cyberpunk YA/NA novel, Secondhand Origin Stories, which has been described as

"-a character driven, compelling story full of family, queerness, corruption, brain altering nanites, secretly teen parenting AIs, and taking aspects of the superhero genre to their very human and rarely-explored natural conclusions."

For an index of already uploaded chapters that hopefully I will remember to update, content warnings and more, check here:

You can follow along by following #SHOSweekly

Chapter 13

Opal had no idea how to bring up the day’s revelations to the tower kids. Yael wasn’t even back yet, but Issac was absorbed in his tablet, obviously hard at work for his evil overlord, with a stack of energy drinks on the coffee-table-slash-trunk. Jamie was perched on the back of one of the couches, watching the news.

Opal didn’t know what to do, so she settled on pulling out her gym clothes. They needed washing. Somewhat urgently. She’d have to head back to the laundromat soon.

Did she even need these? If she wasn’t going to be a superhero, she didn’t need to train to fight.

Plodding footsteps heralded Yael’s arrival, sweaty and slouching so badly xe was almost a normal person’s size. Xe closed the door behind xyr, then slowly lay down on xyr back on the concrete floor. “I hate heat.”

Jamie climbed over the sofas towards xyr while Issac got up and went to the fridge. Opal cocked her head to the side. It was completely gross outside. But-- “Don’t you have literal ice powers? Like, aren’t you pretty much immune to heat?”

“Only when my exoskeleton is out. Otherwise, heat is my nemesis.”

“I thought you said cars were your nemesis.” Yesterday, xe’d had to ride here in the back of Aldis’s truck. Xyr larger-than-life frame didn’t fit in the cabin.

“Heat. Cars. Also diet pop and actual evil.”

Issac strolled over and handed a huge Gatorade to Yael, who took it wearily. Well, if Yael’s genetic lineage was secret, xe couldn’t walk around all silver, could xe? Even if refraining meant risking dehydration or heatstroke or something.

Yael shoved xyrself up, leaving a surprisingly complete puddle, and chugged the whole drink in one go. Oh, the joys of Midwest summers. Xe lay back down, and turned xyr head towards Opal. “I need a pizza and a break before we train. Ugh, I miss the pool.”

The VIP suite itself was fully air conditioned and humidity-controlled-- the building housed delicate antiques, and any VIP suite residents got the same thing as a fringe benefit. Yael would cool down soon. There was a bigger concern. “Do we need to train?”

Yael looked at Opal, and then sighed, closing xyr eyes. “Well, I still need lessons…?” Everybody looked at Issac.

He made a face. “You guys can obviously talk to me with the contacts in. Why would you bother?”

Jamie answered. “Because you obviously hate them. Plus, you can’t wear them all the time. I don’t think you should be sleeping in them.”

Oops, had he been? She hadn’t noticed. He seemed like someone who didn’t read the instructions. “Oh, you should definitely not be sleeping in those,” Opal agreed wearily. “One eye patch is cool. Two eye patches, less so.”

Yael piped up with a serious tone from xyr floor puddle. “It has puns. American Sign Language has built-in puns.”

“I am not tempted by puns,” Issac objected with an attempt at contempt.

“Liar,” Jamie answered promptly.

Ah-ha. So puns were the key. “The sign for ‘pasteurized’ is the sign for ‘milk’ passed in front of your eyes.” She demonstrated. He tried so hard not to smirk. Bless his heart.

She liked these guys. Even Issac. That made this all that much harder. “Look,” Opal continued, “I’ll help if you want, while I’m still in Chicago. But it’s up to you.”

Jamie, who unfortunately was still adorable by the bright light of day, watched her sadly. “You’re really leaving?”

Yael put xyr hands over xyr eyes and made a rough and sudden noise of frustration. Opal startled. Issac scowled, probably trying to figure out if his contacts were mistranslating or not. Jamie leaned over the back of the couch.

Yael sat up with a sweeping gesture. “But you’re good! You’re brave and selfless and moral!” Xyr voice was raising, and xyr eyes looked suspiciously shiny. “If you’re quitting--”

Opal was beyond startled by Yael’s vehemence. “It doesn’t mean you can’t--”

“Yes it does! You’re a real hero! You were gonna fight Ezekiel, by yourself with no support, to save a girl you didn’t even know! If you think the APB is too corrupt-- and you know more about what they’re doing than I do--”

Well, one benefit of giving up her lifelong dream was that she wouldn’t have to worry about how mad Helix would be if Opal accidentally talked Yael out of being a superhero. LodeStar had been waiting for Yael to replace him. Now, maybe xe never would. Opal hoped she hadn’t just made things worse.

Issac attempted to console his sibling. “Yael, you’ve been studying the APB since you were like eight.”

“But I didn’t know anything about the prison, not really--”

“The prison,” Issac interrupted, standing a little straighter, “isn’t exactly what it sounds like.” He shot a challenging look at Opal. “They hired me-- and at a very competitive rate, by the way-- to help with rehabilitation.” He looked at his siblings. “You know what that brain injury did to Jenna. Lasansky wants to treat the inmates with head injuries, so they can go back home. Be safe to join society.”

Bull. Shit. “Nuh-uh. No way,” Opal challenged immediately. “They don’t give a crap about the health of the people stuck in there.”

“They care about recidivism,” Issac answered with a tinge of triumph he had not earned. “Preventing second offenses.” Such bullshit.

Yael dragged xyrself back up unenthusiastically. “Nodiah does care about that. He was so angry about the pilot having been recently released early from his sentence.”

Opal’s mouth dropped open. “Early release?” Opal repeated. “That’s-- they never even do that!” She’d never heard of anyone getting out early. If anyone should qualify for that, it should be her daddy. Her nails dug into her palms.

Yael tilted xyr head to the side. “Really?” Opal nodded stiffly, and xe frowned. “But the pilot…Eustus whatever-his-name-was…he was released early. And he has to have come from the Detroit prison.” Yael’s eyes went wide with horror. Xe looked at Issac. “Could Lasansky afford a jet?”

Opal didn’t wait for Issac to answer or to figure out what Yael was talking about. “Yes. They make a fortune off government contracts and prison labor. They’re loaded.”

Yael took a deep, slow breath, gears clearly turning in xyr head. “OK. Nodiah told me Lasansky is a suspect. For something. He’s being investigated-- I thought it was because he’d hired Issac-- but he had access to the pilot, he had access to a jet…what if Nodiah thinks he’s the mastermind behind the attack on the tower?”

“The news said they couldn’t figure out how the pilot had access to a jet,” Jamie added cautiously.

Opal looked at Issac-- the one injured, and the one working for the maybe-suspect. Issac was already shaking his head, but one hand was drifting up to his ear, and he looked haunted. “No. No, guys, you’re being paranoid. Lasansky’s got no reason to want to blow us up, or deafen me, or any of this. Without superheroes, he’d be out of a job. None of you even trust Bridgewater. Even if Bridgewater does think that, it doesn’t make it true. If more people are getting put in prison than they should, it’s on Bridgewater, not Lasansky.”

As if it had to be one or the other. Opal looked at Yael. “What did Bridgewater actually say when he saw you today?”

“Mostly it was a bunch of stuff about needing to look good in front of people and…”

“And?”

“…and making sure to separate Issac from Lasansky before--” Xe winced. “Before he gets too much blood on his hands.”

Opal felt a chill.

Issac snapped, “I am trying to help people!” Opal jumped. She recognized his defensive, angry posture from when he yelled at his mom. This really got under his skin. He almost looked on the verge of crying. And since he wasn’t planning to use his creepy tiny robots on himself…he must really be thinking about what they could someday do for other people. Jamie put a hand on his shoulder.

So Issac was trapped between two powerful men who Opal loathed. The demonstrably horrible jerk who profited off of other people’s forced prison labor, and the demonstrably horrible jerk who was funneling people into Lasansky’s hands. But it didn’t make sense. “Why would those two even be fighting? They’re a perfect parasitic match.”

Her answer came in disorienting surround-sound from all their phones and tablets. “I have an idea.” It was Martin. “The APB just released some press about a new bill being proposed by Secretary Bridgewater on Monday. He is calling it an ‘anti-recidivism’ measure, and it’s aimed at reducing the number of superheroes and prison beds required.”

“What’s the bill?” Jamie asked.

Silence. Issac frowned. “Martin? You there?”

Martin was quiet, apologetic. “It’s a ‘reform’ to sentencing laws for altereds. It…would make any violent crime eligible for the death penalty. In some cases it could be retroactively applied.”

Daddy. It felt like being kicked right through her ribs.

Officially, he was “dangerous.” A violent criminal. No. She felt a crashing tsunami-swell of anger as she spun towards Yael. “Your uncle’s trying to kill my dad!” She knew this wasn’t under Yael’s control. That the feeling of betrayal welling up inside her was unfair. Yael didn’t even go on the defense. Xe just stood there, shoulders slumped-- looking as helpless as Opal felt, but without matching Opal’s fury.

Opal didn’t know what to do with her rage. She could see the glinting reflections of the fear, anger, and pain lighting her skin refracting off the tears in her eyes. She’d come here to protect her dad and the others like him. Now things were getting even worse, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

She’d been planning to give up, and this was what happened. She’d been so busy worrying, she hadn’t even had time to feel ashamed yet of giving up on him when she gave up on being a superhero.

She hadn’t thought his life was on the line. Not like this.

A butterfly-light touch connected with Opal’s shoulder. Jamie, offering an invitation with an open arm. It gave Opal a path to move along. Jamie was still sitting on the back of the couch. She folded herself around Opal in a protective embrace. Opal tried to get herself settled, but really, she didn’t want to let go of this anger, or this fear. They were real and just, and she wouldn’t recognize herself if she couldn’t feel pain like this. Opal could feel a fast, fluttering heartbeat in Jamie’s neck. Jamie, upset by the injustice, or by Opal’s pain. Opal didn’t care which, in that moment. She put one hand on Jamie’s back and pulled her closer. Not to soothe, but to center herself. To feel she wasn’t the only one feeling. Jamie held her tight.

What would happen when Shani heard about this? Or her mom? Did Daddy know?

Issac’s nanites were supposed to affect Issac’s hearing. And they were supposed to go to Lasansky. Who would they test them on? She didn’t think for a second they cared about head injuries. She didn’t know what they wanted them for. But her deaf daddy would make an obvious target for testing. For them to pretend they were helping. Never mind that Daddy wouldn’t want that help. That he didn’t want or need to be fixed.

They said Issac’s nanites had almost killed him. Who would be there to save her dad?

“It’s just a bill--” Issac started.

Opal drew up out of Jamie’s arms to whirl on him. He flinched and put up his hands, but he held his ground. “I mean it’s not a law. Not yet. People will be fighting this. Lasansky will be fighting this.”

“You think he cares? Do you know how many people die in there--”

Issac shook his head vehemently. “He gets paid per prisoner. This could wipe out his business. You don’t have to trust him at all to trust that he cares about his bottom line.”

“That’s motive,” Jamie interjected, as if the words startled her. “Bridgewater was in our house, the morning of the attack. We weren’t the target. He was. To keep him from proposing his bill.”

“Exactly,” Martin agreed.

“But Nodiah is fine,” Yael objected. “If Lasansky had tried and failed to assassinate him, then why is he still here, hiring alienated bioengineers instead of getting away?”

“Overconfidence? Greed?” Jamie suggested.

“Or he still thinks he can get it to work.” Opal looked at Issac. “Which would mean he has a new plan. Probably one that involves a desperate and alienated bioengineer.”

“Firstly, everybody stop calling me that. And secondly, he hasn’t asked me to kill anybody, I promise.”

“Hasn’t he?” Jamie asked. “Issac, your nanites. They almost killed you.”

“But they didn’t.”

“Because I was there. But if you wanted to use them to kill somebody, wouldn’t they be perfect for it? Nobody at the clinic could find any trace of them. Even after I told them what happened.”

He looked down at his tablet, which Opal now realized had that stupid little thumb drive she’d given him plugged into the side.

“Perfect for assassination,” Yael agreed, darkly.

Martin surrounded them again. “With a little modification they could mimic stroke, cause a coma, or even dementia. I suspect a little further development could make them ideal for torture.”

Opal felt sick. “So you just handed a perfect murder weapon to him.” And Opal had handed it to Issac. Oh, God. She’d made it worse. She’d made everything so much worse. She’d just been trying to help out.

Her attention was glued to Issac as he slowly pulled the drive out of his tablet. “I haven’t sent it yet. I was still securing the connection.” He looked haunted. Good. Let him take this seriously. He looked up. “I actually do care about safety. I do get that-- I just wanted to help people!”

What could she say to that? She really did think he wanted to help. He was naive, but he wasn’t cruel, and he seemed to try not to be careless. She held his eyes with her own. “Then you can help by making sure he doesn’t get that data.”

“This is all speculation,” he answered, glancing away. She bit her tongue. He wasn’t really arguing anymore. He was just turning the drive over in his hands.

“We need more information,” Jamie agreed.

The fight went out of Yael. “He’s being investigated.”

“By Bridgewater,” Opal growled. So, great, even if they beat Lasansky, the APB would get the thumb drive. The same APB that was trying to kill her daddy.

Opal hadn’t realized Jamie was still holding on to her until Jamie’s hand balled into a fist on Opal’s sleeve. Jamie’s voice was quiet, but solid. “Then we should do something.”

Jamie had suddenly turned Opal’s despair into something else-- something fragile, bright, and terrifying. They all knew this moment from every story about every hero. The moment when you decided to be a hero, or a bystander. To commit completely or walk away. Either way, she’d have consequences to answer for.

If they did this-- if Opal did this-- she’d be making herself vulnerable to the same vigilantism charge that lost her her daddy. The same charge that might cost him his life. Even if they won-- even if they saved the day, Opal could still wind up dead. Dr. Tillman promised Opal legal protection. But that was conditional on Opal guarding her kids. Joining them to guard others-- that was no guaranteed pass.

But these three were who she had here. Jamie was tiny, Yael had already attacked one superhero, and Issac was the root of this whole thing. The four of them weren’t exactly the Sentinels, but she trusted that each of them cared about doing the right thing. And at the moment, the right thing was about protecting Issac’s invention from evil usage, and exposing Lasansky.

It was what Opal had already pledged her heart to. Just like her daddy, she had to do the right thing, and hope her family would forgive her if it all fell apart.

“We have the data,” Opal said. “We have the thing Lasansky wants, the thing that has to be kept out of the wrong hands, right here. Nobody else has that.”

Issac looked down at the flash drive. He looked sick. “Bad guy bait.”

Opal nodded. “Maybe I’m not going to be a superhero. Maybe none of us are.” She glanced at Yael, who said nothing. “But I don’t trust the APB and I don’t trust Lasansky. I trust all of you. And I think, together, we can make sure this ends here. That nobody else has to get hurt. If you’ll help me.”

“I’m in,” Jamie said immediately. Opal put her hand over Jamie’s hand, still on Opal’s arm. Jamie wasn’t altered, but conviction and courage had to count for something. And Jamie had both in spades.

Issac messed up his hair. “Oh, this is so stupid... Fine. I’m in. If I’m going to tank my career at eighteen, at least I’ll be sure my tech doesn’t hurt anybody. Else.”

Just Yael left-- the one with the most to gain from the APB. The strongest of them. Xe watched the thumb drive in Issac’s hand. Xe was silent for long enough, Opal started to wonder what Yael would do if xe decided not to go along with this. Would xe call Nodiah? Yael’s voice was quiet and xyr hands gleamed silver when xe answered. “Superhero or not, I want to protect people. If we can do what the APB can’t, what our family can’t, then I’ll do what I can.”

“Then I think I have the start of a plan.”

* * *

Jamie set up the tablet on the coffee table and sat back on the couch. She should make the call before she had a chance to second-guess.

She never had called home, this morning. Apparently, this was the push she needed.

If Mom was talking to her, she would tell Jamie that she was in a strong position to negotiate right now. Dad had to have realized he'd messed up. He had to know he’d crossed the line.

Did he think Jamie had crossed the line, too?

Jamie glanced over to Yael, who was stretching on the concrete floor. Preparing for a fight. Yael wasn’t mad at Jamie, as far as Jamie could tell. But Yael hadn’t actually gotten hurt.

Opal leaned a hip on the back of the couch. She looked grim, with violets and green flashing in her skin. "Couldn't you call Capricorn or Helix instead? I think that’d be easier."

It would be easier. But it wouldn't get the questions Jamie needed answered, answered. "It'll be fine," Jamie assured, her voice hollow. "Besides, he's in charge of the team."

Opal chewed her lip and leaned over the couch. “I hate that I’m the one telling you guys this…but according to Capricorn, LodeStar isn’t in charge anymore. He’s a figurehead. Capricorn says he’s been giving the orders for a while, now.” Jamie frowned as Opal licked her lips, looking at each of them. “He said that the reason LodeStar’s so messed up is because his joints are pretty much destroyed. Even before yesterday, his shoulders and spine and everything were a mess. And he’s taking serious narcotic painkillers pretty much non-stop. My mom told me that for that to work on someone with an altered’s metabolism, he’d have to be popping them like candy to keep them in his system.” She shifted, uncomfortable. “I thought that you all deserved to know.”

Jamie’s mind went blank. It was as if Opal was speaking a language Jamie didn’t know.

Dad was one of the top superheroes in the country-- a force of nature. He could shatter stone under his feet, fly, and was even immune to aging. Painkillers were for pain. Why would someone as strong as him ever need them?

But Opal wouldn’t lie. Drew would never make up something like that.

And it fit Dad perfectly, didn’t it? She didn’t think any amount of pain would make him stop. He’d never complain. He would always keep fighting, no matter what. And if he had to take something for that pain, he’d do it quietly. He wouldn’t want to draw attention to it. Just like how Issac hated the text on his eyes being visible. Don’t draw attention to weaknesses, as if they mattered. Just keep going.

No matter what.

Jamie’d known there was something. She’d known it. She never would have guessed this, but something was wrong.

Jamie could tell this was as shocking to Yael and Issac as it was to her. She watched empathy and anger brawl in Yael’s eyes. She could see Issac mentally scanning years of memory-- testing this new information against his experiences, checking for a fit.

Jamie’s pocket sighed with Martin’s voice. “Thank you, Opal.”

That put an end to any doubt.

Jamie attempted a smile for Opal. “Thanks. I think I needed to know that.” Opal nodded back. Jamie just wished she had time to really process this before she talked to Dad.

She could call Drew, instead of her dad. Opal had just given her the perfect excuse. But that still wouldn’t get her all the answers she needed.

Jamie re-prepared herself, drawing herself up. "OK, everybody else stay out of the frame. I don't want him to get distracted."

Issac sat on his bed, knees up and elbows braced on them, glowering. "I don't understand any of this."

"Yes, you do," Jamie countered, looking back at the screen. "You just don't like it."

Her stupid heart was speeding up. Was she scared of him? No. She refused. "OK, Martin. Call him, please."

Martin put the call through. It rang. And rang.

Jamie stayed put as the others paused their preparations to turn and look as it kept ringing. As he kept not answering.

That scared her.

She was about to tell Martin to hang up with the screen flickered on.

At first, she didn't understand what she was seeing. Dad sat in the center of his couch, dimly illuminated by the screen of the TV he was watching her on. The blinds were drawn, and only thin slices of light sketched the space behind him. Something was off about the shape of him-- unshaven, wearing a bathrobe and pajama pants, watching her with that grave, motionless intensity.

One sleeve of his robe hung flat, empty. The front of his robe was open enough, she could tell his arm wasn't in a sling against his chest.

It was gone. Like Jenna's. And like Jenna's, it hadn't been designed to come off. Jamie could see black and red bruising creeping up his neck from the shoulder, and the edges of a cast’s network at the edge of his robe.

She remembered the sound of cracking. They must have taken his arm off because his collar bone was...just that shattered. His body couldn't support his metal arm anymore. In all the fights he'd been in, that had never happened before. Jamie's eyes tracked back to Yael. Yael had done to LodeStar what no supervillain had ever managed to do.

No, that wasn't true. It was Dad's right arm, gone. A supervillain had destroyed his original right arm before Jamie'd been born. And both his legs. How many times had he been taken apart, in his life?

"Jamie," Dad said. His voice was tight, clipped. Angry? Or just in pain?

She couldn't read him, and had no idea how he was reading her. She'd have to hope words would do the job anyway. "I need backup," she told him, as matter-of-factly as possible.

She could see him try to sit up straighter. Now she knew to watch more closely. While nothing else in his face shifted, his pupils contracted in pain at the movement. "What happened. What do you need?"

"Issac took a job with Lasansky Securities International. He didn't know they were under investigations for the attack on the tower. But we think they’re trying to weaponize Issac’s nanites, and that Lasansky tried to kill Bridgewater to prevent him from introducing this new bill."

"I can be there in ten minutes--" Dad started.

"Dad, no. Listen. We have a plan. Issac is going to try and get him to confess. And we can get it on security cameras. I'm calling you because we want the team standing by just in case everything goes wrong, and to make arrests at the end. But we want you to wait, Dad. You need to give us a chance to get this done. Without the APB jumping in."

"You can't be serious--"

"Yes, I can!" she held up her gauntleted wrist. "You gave me this. This was your idea. Because you know that if there's a problem I can fix, I'm always going to try. And this means I can help. So I'm going to. Even with how you acted yesterday, I still trust you, so I called you. I didn't have to! We have Opal and Yael. We could have just done this ourselves. But we wanted you to help us make a perimeter. Because your home and your family got attacked, too. I...I know you want to help.” Even though his body wanted to quit, Dad wanted to keep going. Keep helping. Jamie understood that.

“This isn’t what I meant. I meant for you to defend yourself. Not set up a problem deliberately. The professionals can handle this.”

“Well, they haven’t yet. Lasansky is going to underestimate us. Just like everyone always does. And Issac has what Lasansky wants. If you come in before we have a chance to help, Issac might wind up getting arrested along with Lasansky.”

That was what it took for Dad to allow pain to show on his face. His left hand came up, rubbing over his face. “This isn’t what I--”

“Will you help us, or not?”

“Of course I’ll help you,” he nearly snapped.

“Then make sure Lasansky doesn’t get away, and come in if we need you.”

“Yael and Issac agreed to this?”

Issac grunted and shoved himself upwards, stalking around to lean in behind Jamie, where Dad could see. “I made a mess, so I’m fixing it. Jeez, Dad.” Jamie felt Issac stiffen as he got a look at Dad for the first time. Hearing that Dad was hurt and seeing him like this were not the same.

Yael stayed off camera, reaching out to xyr toes, on the floor. Xyr tone was curt. “You’ve been training me for this my whole life. If I don’t protect people from dangerous altering tech, what was the point?”

Expressions too cloudy for Jamie to decipher slid across Dad’s face as Yael spoke. Even if things worked, and they all went back to make sure Martin was secure, there would still be a lot of work to do.

“What about that other altered girl? Where is she.”

Opal slid in beside Jamie, chin up and shoulders back. “I’m right here, Mr. Voss. And I wouldn’t have come to Chicago if I wasn’t willing to do what I could to prevent dangerous technology from being used on innocent people. This is exactly what I came here to do.”

Dad let out a long, low breath. “Your mother is going to hate this. I hate this. But fine. I’ll back you up.”

Everybody used to say that Jamie was just like her dad. As they’d drifted apart, she’d stopped believing it. This was what it took for her to feel that connection again.

Dad was one-armed, fresh from surgery, and probably in worse pain than Jamie had ever experienced. If he was taking painkillers that could cloud his mind, it was because the pain was bad enough to do worse. But he didn’t want to quit. He probably didn’t know how. Just like Jamie.

“Not you.” Finally, her voice sounded like she’d always wanted it to. Sure, clear, and steady. The soprano version of his. Her heart rate slowed, and something in her centered for the first time.

It was like she’d been looking in a fun-house mirror her whole life, and had just now figured out that the real world was right behind her. Dad was a mess. He was just struggling to cope. So was Mom with her missing nails, and Solomon with his hiding. And Drew, keeping other people’s secrets when he knew better.

“Dad, you’re in no shape. Send Drew and Solomon. They’ll be enough.”

In another time and place, Dad’s shocked reaction would have been funny. Not much shocked him. “I’m not going to sit by while my kids--”

“You need to take care of yourself,” Jamie said, her words rock-solid enough to quiet him, at least for a second. “You’ve been doing this for too long. Drew told us what’s going on with you. Yesterday, you stepped over the line. If you can’t control yourself, then you need to sit this out. Send the others, but I don’t want you here.”

Dad was stunned. Warm fingers interlaced with Jamie’s, and Opal squeezed Jamie’s hand, down where he couldn’t see them. Jamie kept her eyes on her dad’s.

It hurt him. But it needed saying. All her life, he’d kept Jamie from hurting herself by over-reaching. Now, he needed the same thing. Issac leaned over the back edge of the couch, and when Dad’s eyes flitted to Issac for a moment, Issac nodded, backing her up.

But he looked squarely to Jamie when he conceded with a tight voice, “I’ll send Solomon and Drew.”

Jamie nodded. She nearly hung up, right then. But guilt gnawed at her. There was always a chance this plan could go wrong, with too much left unsaid.

“Dad, I’m not sorry about pulling the gauntlet out, yesterday. But I’m not scared of you. I want you to know that.”

His eyes softened, just a little. Maybe as much as they could. “Thank you, Pumpkin. I’ll see you when all this is over.”

Jamie smiled back. There was too much to do for her to be happy, but finally, she felt like she had her dad back. “I’ll see you then.”

* *

Issac’s attention flipped to Yael as Jamie’s screen went dark. “Well, congratulations. You’re the first altered to take LodeStar out of commission for an indefinite amount of time in like twenty years.”

Xe sat up. YAEL: What?

“They took his arm off. Because you fucking shattered his clavicle.” He hated this. He hated this more than anything. The whole family was going down in flames. He wasn’t supposed to have to see this. “Maybe he’ll get a crate of his own. We can store Jenna’s with the Christmas decorations and Dad’s with the Hanukkah supplies.”

It wasn’t fair to be mad only at Yael. He knew that. Xe wouldn’t have done that without having some kind of reason. But it was hard to face. Yael looked sick, eyeing him suspiciously. Not wanting to believe it. Xe was the only one who hadn’t seen him.

Jamie had taken on a weird, serene look Issac didn’t like. It looked too much like someone prepared to die. JAMIE: He’ll be OK. She stood up. We can worry about Dad later. He’s safe at home. We should focus on the plan.

“Aren’t you mad at him? You pointed a weapon at him.”

Jamie tilted her head, considering. JAMIE: Yeah. But he doesn’t want me to be scared of him. And now he’s actually listening to me. So it’ll be OK.

“‘It’ll be OK?’ We’re trying to lure a potential terrorist to the place we’re living, taunt him with dangerous experimental tech, and the best case scenario has me handing that tech over to the same organization that’s apparently been feeding our dad serious narcotics for years, and has repeatedly snatched limbs from our family. Where are you getting ‘OK’ from that?” Issac still wasn’t completely convinced that Lasansky was the real bad guy, since Bridgewater seemed to be even worse than Issac had imagined, but Issac still needed a lot of answers before he’d hand his tech over to just anyone.

Opal, at least, had some of the somberness Issac felt the situation warranted. And she was holding Jamie’s hand. Huh. OPAL: We can’t completely win this. This is damage control.

A Kobayashi Maru. An unwinnable fight to test your character.

The flash drive was still in Issac’s hand. He hadn’t set it down since Yael’s suspicions came up.

He turned it over, running it between his fingers.

“I just wanted to help people. This could still help people.” People like Jenna. Maybe people like him.

But, unfinished, it was a lot more of a weapon than a medical intervention.

JAMIE: Jenna would be mad you took this job. Even if Lasansky isn’t a terrorist, testing experimental tech on people who can’t leave, who have to depend on their captors for food, and medical help--

OPAL: --And who can’t always even call home. I haven’t heard from my dad since I got here. They can isolate him whenever they want, for whatever they want. You really think they’d just…be nice about this one thing, and only take willing participants?

Fuck. Jenna would be furious. Mom would kill him.

And they’d both be right. Damn it. Progress without ethics was…like the plot of 50% of the science fiction he’d ever watched, read, or listened to. He knew better. But he’d wanted to help. He’d just…trusted the ethics of powerful organizations too much.

And he’d been too afraid. Too ashamed.

He wasn’t going to put anyone else at risk over his damn feelings.

He’d come this far, in less than two years, before he was even 18.

He could always invent it again, someday. If he could create a place and an organization where it could be made safely. Where an agency he could actually trust would do the job the APB was supposed to.

The only way to win a Kobayashi Maru was to change the game.

He got up and went to the kitchen. He made his mind as blank as he could, trying to ignore the way his heart was a staccato spasm in his chest. Just one foot in front of the other. That was all he had to think about. The drive was the bait. They needed it to lure a confession out of Lasansky.

But they didn’t need the actual data for that.

If Lasansky turned out to be the good guy here, Issac was going to be furious at himself for this.

Issac dropped the drive into the toaster and pushed down the lever before he could second-guess himself.

A few bursts of shocked but not especially coherent text blipped up, and he ignored them. He watched the coils turn a deep, smouldering red. There was no turning back now. It was over. He didn’t have to worry about whether he could go through with it. “Sorry, partner. Maybe someday.”

MARTIN: I understand. This is better. Thank you.

That was Martin. They had nothing to prove to anybody. No ego to soothe. Just a pure desire to imagine, invent, and help.

The coils turned from red to glaring orange. The drive case was titanium. He couldn’t break it. He didn’t even trust deletion. But it had no wireless access, so unless anyone plugged it in, there was no way to tell the data’d been destroyed by the heat.

Even if this whole thing went completely belly-up, Issac wouldn’t leave behind a legacy that could be used to hurt anyone else.

The time went off, and the toaster tried to give him back the useless husk of a thumb drive. But it had fallen into the coils. “Yael, can you dig this thing out for me? I don’t want to burn my hands.”

Slowly, Yael stood, and came over to him. Everyone was staring.

The attention was harder to bear than watching the toaster. His eyes started to itch the way they did when there was too much liquid between cornea and contact. His nose felt runny. He sucked it up and produced the best smirk he could while Yael silently took the appliance, unplugged it, and fished out the drive with a silver-black hand. “Whatever. I’m a genius. Make something better later, anyway.”

Jamie looked proud of him, so that had to be worth something. And Opal looked less like she was going to cry, which was a relief.

“And I do like puns. And androids.” He looked at Jamie and Yael. “Think Mom’ll give me a job fixing shitty software for contacts?”

Yael handed him back the drive, and put xyr other hand on Issac’s shoulder. YAEL: Whatever happens, you’ll have us.

* * *

Yael knew that, really, most battle plans didn’t make it past the first engagement. They were more like optimistic outlines than anything.

But their plan didn’t even make it that far.

Issac had sent a rude email to Lasansky saying that Issac quit and would head home in the morning.

Just like they hoped, Lasansky showed up in person not too long after. Just like Yael expected, he brought uniformed, armed guards. Which, for Yael, completely settled the question of Lasansky’s villainy. You didn’t bring armed altereds to deal with a concussed, unaltered string bean like Issac if you weren’t up to something.

So, all of that was fine. Yael was prepared for all of that.

The problem was the tall figure in neon orange who slumped out after the guards. If the orange jumpsuit wasn’t signal enough, Yael knew his face.

“The pilot,” xe breathed. And he wasn’t cuffed, wasn’t shackled. Lasansky was “transporting” him, but the man was obviously not a prisoner. That was more than enough proof for Yael that they were colluding.

He wasn’t as tall as Yael, but still stood nearly a head taller than the rest of them. His eyes scanned the area along with the guards.

A real supervillain. The one who’d taken aim and knocked Issac into the sky. Who’d wrecked Yael’s home and xyr family.

Xe turned back to the garage, where everybody was in their places, as ready as they could be. Xe couldn’t see Jamie from here. Issac was slouched in a folding chair, one leg bouncing. Him being bait was xyr least favorite part of this. Xe’d sworn to protect him. Opal leaned against a truck nearby, almost casual. Yael whispered, “The pilot is with him-- no cuffs or anything. That proves it.”

It proved it to Yael. And by Issac’s suddenly red face and Opal’s stoic nod through flashing amber lights, it was enough proof for them, too. But they needed more evidence than that for an actual court.

“Yael,” Jamie hissed from her hiding place. “Silver.”

Yael shook xyr head. A lot of the plan hinged on Yael staying out of sight until after they had the information they needed. Opal, who Lasansky didn’t know, would stay in the garage to protect Issac and, if necessary, Jamie. Yael’s job was to keep as many guards as possible from getting into the garage in the first place.

It didn’t matter if xe was silver. Nobody would see xyr.

Xe slipped out the back door and ducked into a mound of scraggly shrubs to make xyr way around the building. The gravel and the bushes were impossible to move silently through, but even though it was night, there was some manufacturing noise from the other buildings. That should cover any little sounds.

Xe made it to the front just in time to see Lasansky and three guards enter the garage door they’d left open. That left five guards and the pilot at the cars. Just like Jamie predicted, they didn’t expect anyone here to put up a fight. Xe crouched in the densest part of the bush xe could find.

Then there was a whole new problem. Xe had to wait. Just sit here, with the others out of xyr sight, watching the pilot lean against one of the SUVs with his arms folded and a distant look on his face. Xe wondered how old he was. If he was actually around Yael’s age, or if he was from an age-stable line. What sort of crime had gotten him arrested in the first place? What heinous thing had he done that would make Lasansky team up with him for the attack?

He kept himself away from the lackeys. Maybe he was higher up in the chain of command than them. He was unarmed. Either he was his own weapon, or he was Lasansky’s weapon.

Either way, Yael struggled to stay put. And the damn guards were chit-chatting so much, xe couldn’t make out what anybody was saying in the garage, even though xe could hear voices.

Xyr muscles coiled tight.

If it weren’t for him-- if he hadn’t started it all, xyr family wouldn’t be in tatters. Yael would be at home. Issac and Jamie would be safe. Yael would still be able to trust everyone, and Opal would probably already be a Sentinel.

Yael had killed two men in Hopkins, Minnesota, three years ago. Xe’d done it to protect Issac. Xe hadn’t wanted to.

But it had been so easy at the time.

It was only afterwards that Yael had felt sick. Started feeling those rippling memories under xyr skin.

For the first time, the sense-memory of a brittle, flaking crunch followed by the sluggish ooze of cold blood didn’t repulse xyr. The instincts that knew that violence would always favor Yael projected those memories, and the wet grind of Neil’s bones, out onto the body of the pilot. Like a map to follow. How many more deaths would live under xyr exoskeleton by the end of today?

He wouldn’t be as easy, but there was no way killing him would leave xyr with that sick feeling in the pit of xyr stomach. Xe wouldn’t need to lock the memory of his death away.

Papa said guilt was good. That killing should never be easy. That the fear of guilt kept powerful people in check.

Yael didn’t want to be kept in check. Xe wanted to crush the villain who’d ruined xyr peace.

Xe couldn’t stay still. Xe was shaking with rage. Xyr temperature lurched from hot to cold as xyr exoskeleton tried to cope with the heat of xyr fury. The man who’d caused it all was right there. How could xe care about some elderly bureaucrat with a real supervillain standing right there?

It was more than xe could hold in. Some tiny shift, some grit-toothed breath, some reflection off xyr skin gave xyr away.

He turned to watch the bushes where Yael hid. Yael didn’t move, but xyr mind was spinning out possibilities. See me. Give me an excuse.

His posture changed, sensing danger, preparing for the fight that was feeling closer and more inevitable every second.

He shoved off the side of the van. Took two slow, testing steps towards the garage door. Like Hell would Yael let him get anywhere near the others. It was enough of a reason.

Yael leapt from the bushes, ready to tear the pilot apart. He moved back, and Yael didn’t register the sound of clicks fast enough.

Xe did register the sound of gunshots. Xe didn’t realize till xe felt the air rip behind xyr that xe was the target. Xe’d forgotten about the other henchmen.

Xe turned to dispatch them as quick as possible, but a word ripped through the air like another bullet. “Ezekiel!”

Xe stared at them. They believed it. Just like Opal, the darkly shining silver was enough to convince them that 18 years of death wasn’t enough to hold xyr birth father down.

There were still machining sounds in the distance. More signs of life. More people that might hear that name and believe it. And if they believed it, then anyone seen helping Yael would be at risk from a terrified mob.

The pilot broke rank and ran.

Jamie, Issac, and Opal were here. They needed protecting, but they also needed to not be tied to Ezekiel. Two instincts tore Yael in opposite directions.

Xe let rage cast the last vote, and sped after the pilot, ignoring the sounds of bullets.

They raced through a labyrinth of warehouses and factories. Yael ran harder than xe’d ever run before. Every ground-swallowing step took xyr further and further away from xyr real goal, xyr real purpose, like a tether that might snap.

Yael turned a corner. It dropped xyr into a throng of trucks, crates, and warehouse workers.

The pilot ran through the crowd-- deftly leaping over, darting through, and dodging every obstacle. His prison uniform caused a commotion.

But Yael’s showing up caused a cacophony of falling crates, terrified cursing and evacuation commands. They instantly forgot the pilot. Yael actually paused, first to look for the pilot, then to take in all the fear and chaos xe’d caused. More than the obvious escaped criminal.

In the corner of xyr eye, xe caught one idiot pointing a phone at xyr from inside. Xe scowled at him before xe could think about it.

Nodiah’s warnings rang through xyr head, echoing inside xyr exoskeleton.

This was Yael’s debut-- terrifying everybody. Looking like a monster.

Looking like xe always had, inside.

Xe froze long enough for a few loading dock workers to find their nerve. Xe saw some of them cautiously lifting crowbars, hammers, all kinds of improvised weapons. Xe could just about make out a pitchfork.

It was noble of them. Odds were, hardly any of them were altered. Maybe none of them were. But they saw a supervillain and a mass killer back from the dead, and armed themselves.

If xe went around them, xe’d lose the pilot for sure. If xe went through the crowd, they might attack. Xe couldn’t fight them.

Xe couldn’t cry when xe was silver. The exoskeleton locked any moisture inside it. Xe couldn’t sweat, couldn’t even bleed.

No fighting and no avoiding. One last desperate option available to avoid civilian injuries.

Xe pulled in as much air as heaving lungs could manage, deepened xyr voice, and tried to channel every booming command xe’d ever heard from the team. “Get out of my way! I’m after the terrorist, not you!”

Xe hoped the man with the camera was still rolling.

If only xyr voice hadn’t sounded so wrong.

But they mostly scrambled. Xe didn’t hear any crowbars drop. They cleared a path, only a few of them turned clumsy by fear.

“Move move move move!” xe demanded, running all-out. Xe’d lost sight of him. Had to find him, prove which side xe was on--

The briefest flicker of orange, reflected off a fender facing an alleyway, gave xyr new direction.

Xe found a new reserve of energy, and sprinted after him.

Two turns later, xe had the pilot fully in xyr sights. Three turns after that, he made a mistake.

He’d trapped himself in a dead end, with xyr blocking his only way out of a concrete and iron box.

He turned to face xyr.

#SHOSweekly

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c0ntr0lledchaos · 1 year

Text

mwmday11 - Johnny's Place

Prompts:

“Ready set go!”

Plastic bag

Overheating

Restaurant

(originally posted in may of 2023)

Sweat dripped off Josie’s face as she walked down the street, her makeup smudging more than it already was. They had just arrived earlier that day and had been walking around since, getting to know the area. Not having a car meant walking everywhere in the hot summer sun. Josie’s feet ached and she was uncomfortably sweaty but she was used to being uncomfortable. What she was not used to, was having a traveling companion that was not.

“Hey,” Carson started, sounding slightly out of breath as he sped up in order to catch up with her. “How about we stop for lunch? I think my mortal body is starting to overheat.”

Josie looked at him and could see he was sweating buckets, nearly soaking through his t-shirt. While the heat was uncomfortable for her, it was deadly for him.

“Sure, I think I see a dinner a couple buildings down,” Josie said, squinting as she looked ahead of them. Carson nodded, adjusting his backpack a bit as they walked.

Heatwaves shimmered as they bounced off the concrete and the cars parked on the side of the road. The small town was quieter than the city Josie had lived in for the past couple of years. It was a nice change of pace. Carson, who grew up in a small town, had mixed emotions about being here. This wasn’t the town he had grown up in but it seemed to remind him of home. Whether that was a good thing, she didn’t think he knew.

They entered the diner and sat themselves, Carson all but collapsing into his seat. The place was busy but slowing down. What Josie assumed was the lunch rush seemed to be coming to an end. It was a pretty small restaurant, less than half the size of some of the places Josie had been to in the city. There weren’t too many decorations hanging up, mostly just school pride for the local football team. Food for the table next to them arrived as they sat and the smell made Josie’s mouth water, despite not needing food to survive.

“Hello, welcome to Johnny's Place. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?” A waitress asked, placing two menus on the table. The waitress looked young and nervous, constantly fidgeting with the ring on her middle finger. Josie guessed it was the girl's first job. She looked over at Carson, about to ask what he wanted but saw he was now laying his head on the cool wood of the table.

“Just two waters for now,” Josie said, answering for him.

“Coming right up,” the waitress said, smiling before walking away.

Josie smiled back before taking one of the menus and fanning Carson with it. “Come on, I can’t have you dying on me now.”

After a minute Carson lifted his head and picked up the other menu, looking significantly better than before. As they both read over the menu, the waitress returned with their drinks, placing them gently on the table. She pulled out a notebook as Carson took a drink, nearly downing half the glass instantly.

“Have you decided on what you’d like to order?”

“I’ll take just a hamburger and fries,” Josie ordered, not seeing anything else on the menu that sounded appealing.

The waitress wrote that down before turning to Carson who was still drinking his water. He finally set the glass down and gasped in a breath before speaking. “Same for me.”

“Coming right up… and just wave me down if you guys need a refill anytime soon,” she said, smiling politely as she walked away. She tore the paper out of her notebook and walked back to the kitchen, leaving them alone again.

They sat for a few minutes, cooling down finally. Most of the people from the lunch rush had left by now, leaving the dinner empty except for a few people who were still eating. They sat in silence for a while before Carson spoke up.

“So, I’ve been wondering,” Carson said.

“Hm?” Josie raised an eyebrow as she took a drink. They had been traveling together for about a year now and Carson was still pretty intimidated by her. Asking her a question was pretty out of the ordinary for him.

“So, you heal fast right?” He asked. Josie nodded, resting her chin on her hand as she waited for him to continue. “How do you have so many piercings then? Shouldn’t the holes close up really fast?”

Josie chewed on one of her lip piercings at the mention of them. “They do. I have to keep the jewelry in them otherwise they close up almost instantly,” She explained.

“Seems uncomfortable,” Carson said, eyeing her eyebrow piercing.

Josie shrugged, “It's more annoying than anything.”

Carson looked like he was about to ask another question but the waitress came up, setting their food down in front of them and refilling their water. “Can I get you anything else?”

“I think we’re okay, thank you,” Josie said, smiling up at her. The waitress nodded and walked off. Josie looked down at her burger and picked it up. She always liked small-town restaurants. The food was made with more care and personalization than big chain restaurants put into their food.

She was about to take a bite before Carson stopped her. “Don’t.”

She looked up at him, staring for a moment before putting her burger down and eating a french fry instead. If questions were uncommon from Carson, commands were even more rare. She chewed slowly as she watched him stare at his burger, brows furrowed in concentration.

“I know that look,” Josie said, pointing at him with a french fry. “What's up?”

“I…” Carson started focusing on his burger for a little longer before looking around the room at the other people eating, a look of horror slowly growing on his face.

Josie looked around too, following his eyes as he watched a man a couple of tables away eat his own burger. The man had ordered his burger rare, the bottom bun soaking up some of the blood while some dripped onto the plate.

“Don’t tell me…”

“There’s… it's..." Carson shoved his plate away from him, nearly sending it off the table. He gripped his short curly hair, pulling on it as his breathing became fast and shallow.

“Hey, breathe,” Josie reminded, “Remember, mortal body and all that.”

“There's fucking human flesh in the meat!” Carson whisper yelled at her, letting go of his hair finally. One hand went to his cross necklace out of habit, holding it tightly as the other hand moved to his mouth.

“And you having a panic attack isn’t going to change anything,” Josie said, eating another french fry.

“Why are you still eating?!"

“The fries don’t have any meat in them!”

Carson stared at her in disbelief for a moment before dropping his head back onto the table, shaking the whole table. A few people turned to look at them, giving them a weird look before returning to their conversations.

Josie watched Carson for a moment, glancing around at the other people as she thought about what to do. She usually tries to stay out of other people's business but this was especially cruel and she knew Carson wouldn’t want to leave without doing something. She glanced at him again before waving the waitress over. “Hey, can we get the check and some to-go bags? Something came up and we need to go.”

“Oh, no problem. I’ll be right back,” the waitress said, quickly walking to the back and retrieving the items. She came back and Josie grabbed her wrist as she set the items down.

“You should take the rest of the day off,” Josie said, looking the waitress in the eye.

“B-But I still have half of my shift left,” the waitress said, smiling nervously, unsure of what was happening. Josie slipped some money into her hand.

"Walk out and don’t look back,” she said, letting go of the girl's wrist.

The waitress looked at the large amount of money in her hand with wide eyes before slowly nodding and walking away. Josie watched as the waitress grabbed her purse and left the building, not even clocking out.

“So, what do you want to do?” Josie asked, pulling enough money out for the check.

“Call the cops!” Carson said, lifting his head and looking at her like it was obvious.

“And tell them what?” Josie said, looking at him expectantly, “Ask them to ignore your warrant cause you sensed human flesh in the food?”

She watched as Carson struggled to come up with another idea for what they could do. After a while, he groaned and put his head back down on the table. A smile slowly crept onto Josie’s face as she got a crazed look in her eye. “We could do it my way.”

Carson looked up at her, frowning. Her heart rate started to rise as she waited for him to respond. It had been a while since she had been able to have any fun. After a few seconds of staring he sighed and leaned back in his chair, nodding.

“Great!” Josie said, trying not to let her excitement get the better of her just yet, “First, do you sense any bodies in the building?”

“No,” Carson said, looking like he was trying not to throw up, “Just the flesh in the ground beef.”

“Ok, so no bringing anyone back to ask who did this… follow me.” Josie stood up, grabbing her backpack. Carson did the same before following her through the restaurant.

They walked to the back and into the kitchen area, finding it was split into two separate rooms. Josie looked around before smiling at the first person she saw. It was another teenage waiter, this one a bit older and looking like they would rather be anywhere other than here.

“Hello, I was wondering if I could talk to the person who prepared our food today. Specifically the meat for our hamburgers. It was so good,” Josie said, putting on a polite act.

“That would be our chef. He gets all the meat from his father's farm. He should be right through there,” the waiter said, gesturing to an open door that led to another part of the kitchen. “If he's not there he probably stepped out for a smoke and will be back in a minute.”

“Ok, thank you,” Josie said, heading through the door. Carson followed close behind her, nervous energy radiating off him.

They walked through the door and found the other room empty of anyone. While the other room had stoves and ovens, this area looked more dedicated to preparing the food to be cooked. Carson gagged as he spotted the table where the paddies were made, a bloody stain in the middle of it.

“He's not here,” Carson said, turning away from the table.

Josie frowned and looked around, spotting the freezer. “Let's have a look around while we wait.”

Carson protested as she opened the door but stayed close to her anyways, following her inside. The cooler was deep and filled with many different foods and meats. Carson shivered, his shirt still slightly wet from earlier. Josie walked slowly, looking at a shelf that had bags of meat on it. She walked around a shelf, stopping as she saw a suspiciously body-shaped plastic bag on the ground.

“Hey, I thought you said there weren’t any bodies in the building?” Josie asked. Carson rounded the corner after her, tensing up as he saw the bag.

“There aren’t…” Carson said, brows furrowing as he focused on sensing the bodies. “That one is alive!”

Carson darted forward, falling to his knees and pulling a pocket knife out. Josie stood over his shoulder and watched as he cut the bag open. Inside the bag was a woman, breathing shallowly but still alive. Carson looked up at her, shaking so hard that he almost dropped the knife. Josie looked at him and was struck with the reminder that he was not used to the cruelty of the world like her, despite the fact that he was a necromancer. He was still only a teenager, having just turned nineteen a couple of months ago.

“What… What do we do now?” Carson asked, his voice trembling. He gripped his cross tight, swallowing roughly.

Josie looked at the unconscious woman and thought for a moment before kneeling down and gently picking her up. She wasn’t sure what other injuries this woman had, but getting her somewhere warmer was a good first step.

They walked out of the cooler with the woman, only to be greeted by an older man standing by the table. He turned with wide eyes as he saw the woman in Josie's arms. Carson stayed behind her, looking over her shoulder at the man.

Josie smiled wide and gently put the woman down, telling Carson to keep an eye on her. She turned towards the cook and shrugged off her backpack before putting her hands on her hips. “So, you must be the one responsible for those wonderful burgers people are eating.”

The cook hesitated before grabbing a knife and pointing it at her with a scowl on his face.

“Yeah, I am. And you two just found your way into the next batch!” He said, lunging at her with the knife.

Josie laughed, letting him stab her in the hand as she caught his fist. “Come on, attack me before I was ready? Not very fair now is it?”

He looked shocked for a moment before swinging at her with his other hand. She ducked under it and bent his hand back, forcing him to let go of the knife. He cried out in pain and she pulled the knife out of her hand, smiling as she pointed it at him.

“Ready, set, go!”

He glared at her and made a grab for the knife. Josie dodged him easily, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back as she slammed his head onto a table. Before he could even attempt to stand up she was already bringing the knife down, stabbing him through the temple. His body turned limp, falling to the floor as she pulled the knife out.

Josie smiled at her work before looking around, finding a phone attached to the wall. Carson's eyes were fixed on the man's body as she dialed 911. She cleared her throat and waited for the operator to answer.

“I need help! He's trying to kill me! I’m at Johnny's Place, please hurry. He’s been putting his victims in the food. I-” Josie cut the phone cord with the knife, cutting herself off. She dropped the phone and the knife on the ground and walked back over to Carson. “Well, this place was a fun pit stop. Let's go before the cops show up.”

Carson nodded numbly, standing up as Josie picked her backpack up.

“What about her?” Carson said, looking down at the unconscious lady.

“The paramedics will help her, and as far as the cops know she was the one who made the call,” Josie said, leading the two of them to the back door.

“What about your blood, and-and what about him?” Carson asked, looking back at the scene.

“They’ll come up with an explanation on their own most likely,” Josie said, holding the door open for Carson.

He looked at her for a moment before sighing and walking out the door. “You are responsible for a lot of unsolved crimes, aren’t you?”

“Yup!”

0 notes

astrovian · 3 years

Text

the official ranking of RA photoshoot outfits (pt. 1)

as @dykethorin said when I first proposed doing this particular ranking, “Some real Decisions™️ were made” with these shoots y’all

all photoshoot outfits (for part one) under the cut

the official ranking of Daniel Miller outfits here

the official ranking of Adam Price outfits here

the official ranking of Claude Becker outfits here

guys, I’m crying with laughter

hey quick question: what the fuck was this photoshoot??? (and also I need current RA in these poses)

it’s real nice to see a fun, loosey-goosey RA (before he established himself in the broody-character archetype) but there are so many questionable fashion choices here

when I started this list I had two options:

1) allow some leeway to the older photoshoots because, let’s be real, the early 2000s were an atrocious time for fashion that a lot of us would most rather forget we participated in

2) judge them by today’s standards, which is harsh but some of these outfits deserve it

naturally, I chose option #2

It’s so hard to even pick where to start. the too-loose pants? the ill-fitting suit jacket? The untucked dress shirt that is for some god-forsaken reason undone in two separate directions??

I have chosen one thing that sums the outfit up as a whole: what monster decided to put the shirt collar over the suit jacket????

the jazz hands scream “hey I’m a FUN guy” but the suit screams “I’m the yo-pro asshole at the office who is so unreliable you’re pretty sure some nepotism must surely have had an influence during the hiring process”

I originally said ‘I guess we should be glad there’s no surfer necklace’ but then I had the horrifying realisation that it’s a 50/50 shot as to whether that would improve this outfit or make it worse. and you know when there’s even slimmest chance a surfer necklace could improve an outfit somehow that it’s time to take a good hard look at yourself

1/10 just because this photoshoot made me genuinely laugh out loud

wait I’m sorry, what-

how on god’s green earth is this the same photoshoot (?) as guys, I’m crying with laughter????

the great thing about these lists is that you are getting my genuine reactions as I progress down the images. I had no idea this was the same photoshoot (?) until approximately 10 seconds after writing guys, I’m crying with laughter

this perfectly encapsulates the duality of man – one moment it’s all goofy jazz hands and the next it’s a hunk-of-the-week moment

this man and guys, I’m crying with laughter are the equivalent of looking at pictures of yourself in high school vs. in your 20s/30s/at your prime. the whiplash is insane

and why is he in front of barred windows?? it appears they were afraid of what would happen if this hunk escaped into the general population

I still can’t believe they kept the collar over the suit jacket though

I’m so conflicted guys, the urge to numerically rank this terrible outfit is strong but uh… as per usual shirtless ones aren’t fair/10

revenge of the killer surfer necklace

do you ever look back at a specific moment in time and are so thankful that someone took one tiny action? one small thing they did in the heat of the moment that probably seemed innocuous at the time but had far-reaching consequences? for example, it might something as simple as deciding to take a umbrella on a bright sunny day only for it to be extremely useful on the way home when the weather turns

this is how I feel about the person who decided RA could leave that top button closed for this shoot

if you squint, you can see the surfer necklace under that top button. and thank god you have to squint

this is such an early 2000s look though. that shirt by itself is fine and would actually look killer with a properly fitted suit nowadays. it’s the shirt dress and loose denim look with makes no sense to me

2/10 for a pretty uninspiring early 2000s outfit

revenge of the uh…

from the same shoot as revenge of the killer surfer necklace this loses .1 of a mark for adding a jacket, while pretty innocuous, to an already busy outfit

1.9/10

were we really that afraid of legs?

why were we, as a society, so obsessed with loose, ill-fitting pants? why were we so desperate to conceal legs from the general population? what secrets were we trying to hide? I understand the comfort factor on the hand, but on the other did anyone actually have eyes

the sneakers/suit combo I can definitely live with. but those pants (that I’m convinced must be pyjama pants in another life) turns it all into a sloppy, blurry mess

2.7/10

is it a bird? is it a plane? no, it’s… a floating RA?

what is it about photoshoots in the early 2000s where they just make no damn sense. it’s my opinion that the theme/concept of a shoot should not overshadow the subject, and that’s the correct opinion (as well as being the exact opposite as to what’s happening here)

maybe there was a hint or reason as to why floating wizard RA exists in the article that this shoot presumably came with, but I don’t get it. clearly I’m far too literal of a person and need to embrace my inner artist

looks pretty, still weird

moving on the entire point of this post, the outfit, I uh,… oh god

I’m pretty sure this the same (and similar, if not) outfit RA wore in the North & South behind-the-scenes, and how we as a society went from John Thornton’s stiff collar and top hat to this is amazing

maybe we were so obsessed with period dramas back then because it was a nice alternative to indulge our eyes in when we had to face the harsh, cold reality of modern fashion at the time

anyway – trust me, while I am all for a man in a necklace, let’s pray surfer necklaces never come back 2.9/10

I genuinely was looking up “pinstriped jacket jokes” because I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head but then I realised I don’t need a joke here because pinstriped jackets are a joke all by themselves

I feel like there may be a situation where pinstriped suit jackets might grow on me, but this is not that situation

also I don’t really know where I stand on the belt, but I certainly think I’m leaning towards the ‘why’ part of the scale. if you’re gonna make a belt that prominent in a photoshoot, at least make it a fun belt

3/10

I’m noticing a trend in these photoshoots and it’s these horrific backgrounds

I will admit that the non-patterned suit jacket is going with the jeans a lot better here. but now that my attention isn’t focused on that, all I can see are the dress shoes. WHY DID YOU PUT DRESS SHOES WITH STRAIGHT-LEGGED JEANS???

please someone I am begging you, can we as a society get to tapered jeans already

3.3/10

did RA genuinely ever get put into any clothes that actually fitted him properly at this point in time?

look, I know I’ve been picking on the bootcut jeans & loose attire that plagued us in the early 2000s (or 2006, to be specific to this photoshoot). what can I say, it’s the low-hanging fruit. or loose-hanging, as the case may be

I do appreciate that rich brown leather jacket and that smile. but that’s where it stops. someone take dress shirts and dress shoes away from bootcut denim PLEASE

3.5/10

this is the bad-boy from your hometown in every rom-com ever

as with well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of below, the lower rating is simply because from what we can see, it’s just a plain shirt. however, that dipped v-neck? mm-mmm

look at that smirk. this man knows what he’s doing to us, dammit.

why do you persist in hurting us this way 4/10

well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of

god bless the person who said we need this shirt wet and clinging and only half-soaked

I’m so sad that I have to give this such a low ranking because uh… we’ve established I have a weakness for those biceps

this does also get bonus points for the creativity of “only this portion of your shirt needs to be wet for your close-up” but at the end of the day it is a solitary grey t-shirt even if it is floating in an attractive sea of muscles

4.5/10

the photographer really said ‘who gives a crap about the clothes’, huh?

an interesting shirt! but as much as I love RA’s face, we should be able to see more of the shirt (and the outfit) because uh… it’s hard to make a judgement call on a photoshoot outfit without that

also, it’s just so hard to concentrate on some of these with RA staring into my soul like that

*sigh* 4.6/10

hello sir, are you as kinky as your shirt?

this is one of the few occasions on which I will give the bootleg baggy jeans a pass. interesting choice to go shoeless for all outfits in this shoot – but the way the shirt is all crumpled is annoying me an incessant amount. I am begging you, someone pass this stylist an ironing board PLEASE

4.7/10 for a crinkle-cut RA

all that’s missing is the beer cans

I’m not sure of the short sleeves here. I think with the shirt open as well my brain doesn’t know where to look

HOWEVER, this is an RA from the early 2000s that I can get behind – largely because he’s not drowning in his denim

the nice, plain belt which matches with the shirt? excellent

interesting choice to go with the bare feet – this entire look (and the quality of that concrete floor) screams ‘we’re chilling at a summer party in your parent’s basement in the early 2000s’ if not for one thing – that couch is way too nice looking. am I being too pedantic about this? no. If you’re gonna go for the whole basement party look, you need a couch that’s falling apart and has at least one questionable stain on it

that being said, I would hang out in this man’s basement

it’s a shirtless one so once again, I cannot give a numerical answer/10

I’m not sure if this man is dangerous or is just an idiot

they may have been wanting RA to embrace his inner Daniel Miller here but that is NOT a jacket that should have its collar popped or if it is, it definitely should not be popped that much. just turn the intensity of that pop down by… at least 35%

this look is telling me to embrace my inner lacy, ruffled collar that men in England used to wear around the 1500 - 1600s. I hate it and refute it with every part of my soul

this is what happens when you embrace your inner Daniel a little bit too much 5.6/10

the return of the leg monster

not much to say about this except once again we are terrified to put RA’s legs into well-fitted pants. what secrets are hiding underneath those voluminous billows? will we ever know?

5.8/10

the one that crushed my hopes and dreams and then spat on my corpse

so I admit it, I got really excited because I thought that this was a leopard print shirt and I was like “this is something I did NOT know that I needed until right now”, even if I would argue that it could have been nice in a little bit of a brighter colour. no matter, I thought it was a nice subtle addition to this plain suit and was just very excited at the prospect of RA rocking leopard print even though I almost always hate leopard print in single every form it comes in

and then. upon zooming. a disappointing paisley. sorry, paisley lovers. I hate it

I would also argue here that the pocket square would have been nice in a plain, bright colour rather than another patterned item thrown into the mix. come on stylists, stop letting me down with your pocket squares

also if there is a point where a suit can be too shiny, I think we’ve found it. I could wax floors with that fabric and I’d rather be thinking about RA’s talent & good looks rather than imagining him being used as a human mop

the hand porn is uh… strong with this one 6/10

the hand porn one

the ring is a nice subtle touch but I can’t decide where I stand on this tie. for me, the checks are just a *wee* tad too small. so small that it I’m scared it will turn into one of those optical illusions with a number in it if I stare at it the tie for too long

the pocket square could also have not tried so hard to blend in with the rest of the suit jacket. give me some colour, baby!

Richard really needs to put his hand down so I can actually concentrate on the clothes 6.5/10

I’m just dotty for this one (I’m so sorry y’all)

so suave. so shiny. I wanna stroke that fabric so bad, it looks so soft

the dots bring a nice yet understated touch to a monotone outfit and GOOD LORD those thighs

they just had to pose him like this to torture us, I’m convinced. also they call him a “commanding gentleman” in the subtitle which is really just unnecessary to verbalise when he’s sitting like this

Someone put me in a rom-com with this man 7.2/10

the modern magician (at least he ain’t floating this time)

I know that the hat should be the focus of this shoot but I can’t get over those shoes

tangentially related, I have never understood why they make men’s dress shoes so excessively long and pointed. these certainly aren’t a good example of this but uh… I don’t understand why men’s dress shoes are clown shoes

I think part of what’s throwing me off is the sockless look. normally I can handle (and even love) it with some shoes but there’s something about the hem of those jeans and those shoes that turn them into slippers when worn sockless

I love the two-tone scarf but what really excites me is the plaid shirt that we can barely see. I’m eternally sad that they had RA hid it in this pose. and also, come one. you could’ve at least gotten a chair with an actual back to it. that can’t be good for his back at all

the one bonus of this outfit is the hat because when do we ever get RA in hats?? and hats that aren’t baseball caps?? a nice, rare touch. but also one which hides most of that face so…

can we talk about the fact that my gut tells me those jean cuffs have been deliberately turned up at the front and all I want in life is to reach into this image and flip them down 7.5/10

*pterodactyl noises*

holy macaroni. that demin shirt. and this shirt’s even a nice lighter denim colour??? and the v-neck?? SIR

I know he’s worn some faux-denim shirts in the last few years (see: Uncle Vanya rehearsal pics) but as outerwear? knocked it out of the park in this one

also I know this is a shirt not a jacket, but this shirt made me think about how I never realised how much I needed RA in jean jackets until today

It could be argued that a nice crew neck cut would work slightly better than the v-neck but that’s really a personal choice

a lovely respite for my weary eyes 7.7/10

a truly, truly blessed image. the sort of image that would bring you endless good luck

I know I’ve given a lot of pants crap on this list but these. these are the ones. these are doing the lord’s work for sure. and god bless the person who decided to shoot from this particular side angle.

and then the shirt?? I’m honestly afraid it may rip if he moves. I could leave or take the tie though. it’s not adding a whole lot to this outfit and I would much rather that shirt be uh… open at the top for a glimpse of uh… well. you know.

this RA outfit laughs in the face of all those early 2000s RA outfits 8.1/10

me running to open my phone every time an RA-related notification pops up

my only sadness is that this shoot was in black & white. we need more action-shot RA shoots!

also the subtle plaid?? *chef’s kiss*

well, I said ‘my only sadness’ but is it also me or are both ends of that tie strangely square? that is throwing me off from an otherwise spectacular photoshoot outfit, I won’t lie

8.5/10 for a man of action

this is what we all like to think we look on the way to work. hate to break it to ya - we don’t

god, that wind-ruffled hair. the rustic look provided by both the suit material & the photo editing. that stare over the top of that coffee mug. the casual ‘I just picked up the paper on my way out this morning’

words fail me

would it be weird if I said I would pay money to be able to run my hands through anyone’s hair that looks as soft and wind-swept as that 8.9/10

the comfiest RA

I love. love. love this outfit, especially the sweater. the pant colour goes extremely well with this one and I’m so glad they didn’t just stick him in jeans. the is the softest, comfiest RA and I love it. this is an RA who you can simultaneously share a beer and takeaway with at home, cuddling up on the sofa while you watch a film, as well as an RA who will take you out to eat fancy pasta at an upscale restaurant.

the choice of sitting on a stool is also great. my only real gripe here is the watch (and even that’s a minor one, really). the watch isn’t THAT bad, but it’s chunky face reminds me slightly of the watches boys in my class would wear in middle school. the watch could be a *wee wee tad* slicker, but really, I’m nitpicking here (and this is the only time I will admit to it)

the more I look at it, the more this becomes one of my fav RA pics. the slight smile. the relaxed pose. the hint of hand porn

weirdly, for some reason this picture gives me the exact same comfy and ‘just chilling out’ feeling as when I hear the song “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer 9.5/10

#richard armitage #yes this is a multi-part one because uh... there's a lot of photoshoots guys #also yes most of the early 2000s ones ended up at the bottom and I refuse to apologise for that

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batarella · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Hate You - Part 18 (Jason Todd x Reader)

MOTHER FUCKERS THE FLUFF IS BACK I REPEAT THE FLUFF IS BACK AND THIS IS THE MOST I WROTE IN A SINGLE DAY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS

ALSO YOURE LOOKING AT THE BITCH YOU ACTUALLY WROTE A FUCKING SONG FOR THE LOVE OF THIS ASSHOLE HAHAHAHAHAHA I ACTUALLY WROTE Y/N’S ORIGINAL SONG HOW BOUT THAT

WORDS: 9079 FUCKING WORDS WARNINGS: FLUFFFFFFFFFF (and a lil angst) ALSO SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE ORPHAN

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

It was a dirty, dangerous promise and he never should’ve given in at the last minute.

The rational part of him left over from his existing sanity endlessly scolded him for the reckless act of leaving before he’d knowingly change his mind of promising you crucial, needless to say dangerous three days. Just a few months ago, he rose from the dead, defied the odds, cold-bloodedly murdered dozens of people a single night, and the one moment he let his guard down, he let himself look into your eyes and give in. He gave in. Like the idiotic teenage boy you thought he still was. He definitely wasn’t that anymore, and he knew for an obvious, undeniable fact that there was no turning around who he was, or what he was now.

And all those months of hiding in the shadows, barely keeping up his stealth just so you wouldn’t suspect anything out of him, it had all gone for nothing because of Grayson’s blabber mouth he wanted to put a bullet in right now. He did that for a purpose. He never wanted you to see him the way he was right now. He knew what he was doing was absolutely necessary, do what Batman was too much of a coward to do and end the lives that would’ve taken a hundred more of the innocents’.

But it didn’t mean he thought it was right. He hated morals and patronized Bruce so much for that, when he was Robin and still lived under his roof. But each time he shed blood, there was no denying that he wished there would have been other alternatives to have put them down for good. Which there wasn’t. This was his ultimate, necessary resort. He’d do that if he had to, never mind people looking down on him or seeing him in a bad light. At least, he knew, that he saved so many with his actions. That alone was enough to drive him to do what he does.

He wouldn’t hide it, but when it came to you, Y/N, you’d be ashamed of what he’d become. When you loved, you loved hard. He had never felt so secure with anyone else. You loved him greatly, and you made him feel like you were terrified of losing him, maybe even more than he was terrified of losing you, which was already great in itself. And he reveled in that love, made sure he never took advantage of it and gave you the exact same amount of love back. Not because he had to, but because he actually did love you that much. And he wanted you to feel that.

But that was when you were kids… As great as that love was, he couldn’t possible rekindle anything for now. You were of no part of his vigilante life when he met you, and he made sure it stayed that way. That was why he never came to tell you. You were so precious to him, the best taste of a life that was normal, content, and happy beyond what he could describe. He didn’t want you to be exposed to any of that. It was basically why he left you the moment you knew about him.

Now, he was ten times worse. He willingly killed. He made deals with actual human demons. He’s a part of the most dangerous debacles the whole world has ever seen. With the League, the al Ghul’s, the fact that he was a living, breathing zombie. You just couldn’t be a part of that anymore. No matter how much his life turned to the worst, he couldn’t have this for you. He couldn’t possibly be worth all the pain and trouble that came with merely being by his side. Not a chance. He wouldn’t make himself worth it.

If he was, he’d put you in the worst place possible. And you didn’t deserve that.

He fell in love with how human, genuine, and real you were. All those times he had with you, dates and adventures and lying in bed laughing all night, he couldn’t possibly destroy that. You deserved that kind of happiness and normality that strayed you away from the danger that he was.

But if it meant spending the next three days with you, going through all this just to give you the kind of closure you never had the first time he left, it was the least he could do. And after that, if you truly kept to your promise, you’d move on from him and live the life you always deserved. And you had to. He’ll make sure of that. He’ll make sure that the next three days, you’ll either be so repulsed of the sight of him, or give you a slow, much needed exit from his life that was unnecessarily dramatic but still all the more necessary. He’ll give you that. You deserved that. No matter how much he didn’t.

He’ll keep his cool, maintain enough distance not to spark anything he wouldn’t want to start that would only make matters worse. He’ll make sure you’d instead be exhausted of your apparent attachment to him, and by the end of this, you’ll willingly leave. Even though this was extremely idiotic in his part and defied practically everything he told himself not to fall into for the last few months since he had enough sanity in him to have any logical thought, he’ll have to orchestrate this whole thing so it ends as smoothly as it should.

And when this is all over, when you finally get to live your life, he promised himself that he’ll never-ever-see you again.

He won't follow you back home from your university, to your part time job, to the restaurants you go with your friends or even an alley you were too dangerous to go in. He scared all the thugs enough not to go back. So it was safe. Hopefully.

No matter how much it stung, he’ll stay away from you. For good.

Jason, wearing a black hoodie and some jeans despite the warm summer weather, walked down the sidewalk going down to your street. He was nervous, and all the promises he kept for himself, he made sure to remember them before he left this morning.

When he reached the curb, he stopped before the pedestrian lane and waited for the light to turn green.

You were there, right outside your apartment standing by the steps. Right across from him. You wore a dark red sleeveless top and a skirt that went down to your thighs. Your eyes were on your phone, momentarily looking up. No wind blew against your hair, but it flowed to your little movement, falling from behind your shoulder down to your chest.

He didn’t see it last night, especially with it being so dark.

But you grew up so beautifully mellowed, exactly how he would’ve envisioned you to look now from three years ago, except he didn’t realize he’d be in this place now. And with it being everything he expected, it meant that you, despite the futile halting of his mesmerized thoughts, were heart-stoppingly beautiful in every way he could have imagined.

He watched you, from the other side of the street, making sure his sweating palms were out of sight. The car noises and crowd talking had been long blurred out and silenced. His eyes, they were poignant and unmoving, forehead creased up like he was worried when there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. People around him started to cross the lane, and he went along with them. He never dared to look away from you, not even for a second. You looked up, tapping your phone onto your palm.

When you caught his eyes, you smiled.

He knew he shouldn’t.

But your smile, small, yet everything he thought he’d never get to see ever again, it unwillingly forced him to smile back. Jason reached the sidewalk, went over to you, and you kept your pretty little smile as you waited for him.

“Hi.”

He breathed in, forgetting just about everything he thought about at that quick minute he stood in a trance and cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”

“You have anything planned?” You placed your hands in front of you.

“Not exactly. You?”

“I do… if you’d let me.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll go wherever.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “I drive.”

“I drive.”

“It’s my car.”

“I don’t know where you’ll take me.”

“You said we can go wherever we want.”

“Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take us there.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Fine, jackass.”

You took him to your car that you had parked just outside your apartment. It was a black sedan, probably from your dad. “Nice ride.”

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s old car.”

You both got in, with him at the driver’s seat. “You and your dad doing good?”

“He wanted me off his life now that he has a new wife and everything. I demanded an apartment, a car, and money for my tuition, or else I wouldn’t stop sneaking into his house and destroy his stuff.”

“Jesus. How the fuck are you still not arrested?”

You made a satisfied, proud little sound when you shrugged. Jason exhaled with a bit of a laugh and started the ignition. “Where are we off to?”

“You know that outdoor Italian place by the plaza?”

“Italian?”

“My treat.”

“Are you serious?”

He should have known you’d turn this into a date. This was everything he hoped wouldn’t happen.

“I have something to do there. Just drive.”

“Fine. Jeez.”

He drove off into the streets, not long before he reached the plaza and parked by one of the empty spots near the open grassy field. You got off the car, walked by his side and you reached Giuseppe’s. It was a quaint little place, just by a giant open field where people usually took their dogs to. The inside was quite full, red and black plaid covering most of the décor. The outside, on the other hand, looked beautiful. The metal seats and the small circular tables that littered the concrete ground built on top of the grass, where trees were around enough to give enough shade from the sun. and there were lines tied from one end of the restaurant all the way to the roof that had little fairy lights on them that would have been gorgeous at night.

He wasn’t comfortable in the slightest. He barely goes out during the day. And he hated being around so many people. In fact, this was probably the first time he eats out of the house that wasn’t the cheap diner across the street. He hated every bit of it.

But anything for you, he guessed.

“For two,” you told the host. And they led you to an empty table in the middle where a big yellow umbrella was standing in the middle. You took your seats, and Jason gave you a dirty, disapproving look.

“This wasn’t supposed to be a date.”

You scoffed. “Sure. Call it that.”

“I didn’t call it a date-“

“Yeah, you totally did. What’s wrong with two friends eating lunch together?”

“At a pricey Italian place?”

“It’s not that expensive here. And take that hoodie off. It’s ninety degrees out.”

He leaned back against his chair, collecting his breath, then pulled down his hoodie.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

“Shut up.”

Friends. He had to remember that. You called him your friend. He should be happy. It wouldn’t be as hard when you say goodbye to him after 72 hours if you were just his friend.

The waiter came in, and you both gave your orders. You leaned in, smiling, and he tried not to smile back, but the smirk on your face just made him want to chuckle.

“Alright, what is it you wanted to do here?”

From your medium sized purse you had slung over your shoulder, you pulled out a camera, a large black one, and your phone. You scrolled to one of the screenshots you had and handed it to him.

“For our finals, we’re told to write an original song, record it by ourselves, then we make a music video out of it.”

“That sounds…” he scratched the back of his head. “Impressive.”

“And I wanted to get some footage from here in the plaza.”

“You’re gonna film people without their consent?”

“Relax. I won't include their faces. Nothing to worry about.”

You imitated his voice with that last sentence and it made his skin crawl. “Whatever.”

You placed your camera back into your bag.

“You wrote a song, huh?”

“Yeah. Plenty. I’ve gotten good practice overtime.”

“Really?” he leaned over, curving up the corner of his mouth. “Let me hear them.”

“No, you dingus. It’s a really rough draft.”

“All your songs are rough drafts?”

“For now.” The waiter gave you your glasses of water. You drank from it. “I never got to record them in a studio. I had to do them on my own.”

“You have equipment and everything?”

“I have enough. The school lends us what we need.”

“And you wrote the lyrics and wrote the sheets and everything?”

“Everything.” You smiled proudly. “Shouldn’t have doubted you when you told me to choose music.”

Jason smiled at the memory, drinking from his glass. “Yeah…”

Your food eventually came. And you both opted to eat in silence. He shouldn’t be talking so much. He had to remember why he was here in the first place. He shouldn’t be remembering anything that hits too close to what he had to avoid.

He looked up, momentarily watched you eat your pasta.

In a fancy Italian place. Or the school cafeteria.

He smiled at the sight of you.

-----

“Okay.”

You held your camera up, pointed it at the restaurant when you stood a reasonable distance away on the open field. You looked up, squinted at the sun, then adjusted the lens to get the right amount of light in the shot.

“Jay, stand here.”

“What?”

“Here,” you pointed to your side. “Cover the light.”

“Why me-“

“You grew half a foot since I last saw you. You’re tall enough to block the fucking sun. Come.”

Jason made sure you heard his annoyed grunt and stood over to give you the shade you needed. “Perfect.”

“I feel used.”

“Well, were you just gonna stand there and be useless?”

“When I said I gave you three days, I didn’t mean to be your fucking assistant.”

“Then you should’ve thought of that before you agreed.”

You started recording. Jason must have thought you were filming the couples on a date, kids running about on the grass. You could have covered people’s eyes and caught the bright smiles on their faces, how their face creased up when they laughed so hard they almost toppled off their seats.

But that wasn’t what you were going for.

Instead, you caught the lone man, sitting crouched over on a table with no one sitting next to him. His face was looking down at his book, and his eyes looked almost shut closed. He didn’t once look up at the people around him, at the waiter that gave him his drink. He didn’t even order much but a single plate of pizza. You didn’t catch his whole face, but you caught his eyes, his hands on his book. His back turned to the otherwise on going scene of events around him that he couldn’t be bothered to watch. He probably wasn’t sad, but he definitely looked like it.

You stopped recording and looked back at your footage.

“He won't like that.”

“Hush. No one will recognize him. And no one’s going to find out when the only people actually getting to watch this shit are my professors and a few beta watchers.”

You placed the camera down, then looked around.

“Quick, Jay. Help me find more depressing things to film.”

“Is this another disturbing horror film you made a bunch of in high school?”

“No…”

You winked at him and he guffawed. “I can't believe I let you drag me into this.”

“Quit complaining.”

“You know what this reminds me of?”

He shouldn’t. he really shouldn’t. but he couldn’t help it.

“When you hold me hostage just to help you with your little projects in class.”

“Hey,” you countered, pointing the camera at him. “You happen to be a very good assistant.”

“I’m not your assistant.”

“I passed all my classes with your help, remember?”

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and you noticed him give it a little tug. “Fine. I’ll help you.”

“Good. Now find me another sad thing to film.”

You both started walking down the park’s open area. Kids were running around, people sat on the grass with picnic lunches being set up. People were actually smiling, and the sun shining so brightly didn’t help with the mood, either.

“There.”

Jason pointed you at a bench where a kid was crying. Alone. He didn’t look like he had a scraped knee or anything much to cry about. He was probably lost. “Thanks.”

You took your camera, aimed it at the kid, and made sure you got a shot of his head curved down, his arms covering his body with his legs trembling as they hung off the edge of the bench. You caught the sight of his mouth curving down, the tears running down his face, and you especially made sure to catch him sniffing and wiping his snot off with just his arm. “Poor kid,” Jason said.

“Aaaand, we got it.” You smiled brightly, looking back at your footage with wide eyes and a proud look on your face. You even laughed when you got the shot of his snot.

Jason frowned at you.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“That kid’s crying.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Go help him.”

“I’m not gonna-“

“Y/N.”

“I make kids cry, not make them feel better.”

Jason laughed at that and shook his head. “Go help him. You got footage from him and it’s the least you could do.”

“He’s not-“

“If you won't do it, then I will.”

You stuffed the camera in your bag and let out a long, irritated grunt. “Fine.”

He walked by your side, and you made your way to the bench. The boy didn’t look up at you, or even notice that you were standing by his side. Jason nudged your shoulder.

“Hey kid,” you said.

He looked up.

“You lost your mom?”

The boy nodded, sniffing and wiping his tears.

You cocked your hip to the side. “Next time listen to her and never keep her out of your sight. The information desk is over there, and if you want you can talk to one of the security gua-“

“Jesus…” Jason set you aside and stepped in to sit beside the little guy. He looked up at him, scared, but Jason gave him a kind smile.

“You alright there, bud?”

The boy licked his lips, rocking his legs in the air. Jason scooted nearer to him. “I like your shirt. You like Batman, huh?”

He nodded slightly, the tears in his eyes coming to a stop.

“Well, I heard he’s not that great. Between you and me, Wonder Woman’s a lot better than he is.”

“Really?”

“By a mile. Plus, she has powers. Can’t get any cooler than that.”

“I guess…”

You sat back, watched him talk to the kid until his nose got a lot less stuffy and his frown turn into a funny little grin when Jason told him a joke.

You smiled, watching Jason’s face scrunch up and his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Wanna go find your mom?”

“Yes, please.”

He stood up, and he held Jason by the wrist. You stood behind them, watching them. And when Jason took him back to the playground where he said he lost his mother, he kneeled down to the kid’s height.

“You ran a long way, bud. Be careful next time. Do you find her?”

He looked around through the dozens of other women in the area watching their children. Jason stood up, seeing from above. And when he saw a woman frantically looking around from the slides, he held the kid’s shoulder. “That her?”

“Yes! Thank you!!!”

The kid looked so happy, giving Jason a high five before he left to hug his mother. Jason watched him leave, then turned to you.

You felt your heart so warm. Jason had always been good with kids.

A killer. A murderous vigilante. He was definitely that. You could see it.

But you were right when you knew the best parts of him could never be killed off.

“That’s how you talk to a kid,” he said.

“You know I was never really good with them.”

“Damn straight,” he said, then your started walking back down the way you came. “You go to nurseries and make a whole batch of kids cry for help.”

“It’s a very fun thing to watch. Kid’s cry funny.”

“I thought you said you changed when you kept your promises.”

“Oh, I did. In most ways…”

Jason laughed with you. You haven’t heard him laugh in three years. You watched every second of it until his face eventually mellowed down.

“Where to next?”

“I’m going to need more footage. What else can you find?”

You both looked around. “Let’s go to the pond.”

You walked with him.

A large pond in the middle of the park, and with the sun slowly starting to lessen its shine, the scene looked more like what you’d envision. Thank god, it was a slow day. Otherwise the place would have been packed. The pond was dark, green, and looked a bit stuffy, but there were swans around that floated in the streams.

And on top, reaching from one end to the other, was a narrow bridge painted in a dark, wooden grey. It perched perfectly on top of the water and reflected off of the surface. With the light it was hitting, it was perfect. Jason stood close to you.

“You’re filming just the pond?”

“I’m waiting for someone to stand there and look over at the water all depressed.”

And you waited, for a good few minutes.

But it was either a bunch of kids running across, a couple hand in hand, or old women feeding the swans with bags of bread.

“Jay. Huge favor.”

“No.”

“Just hear me out.”

“Oh, I definitely know where this is going.”

“Just a few seconds.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Cover your head with your hoodie.”

“You go do it. And I’ll film you.”

“We’re not allowed to be in the shots. You have to do it.”

“I hardly believe that’s true.”

“Well, it is, and I can show you the module right now.”

“Don’t bother. I’m not doing it.”

“Please, Jay.”

“Motherfucker-“

“Please.”

Jason cursed. “That doesn’t work on me.”

“Just stand there and do nothing.”

“I don’t want my face on camera.”

“Your face won't be on it. I’m desperate. Just help me out with this.”

Jason closed his eyes, bit both his lips, and you heard him count to ten with the lowest voice.

“Come on, Jay. So we can go.”

“Fine. But this is the last one.”

You smiled so widely at him and he glared at you. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Shut up.”

He waited until no one was around, then pulled the hood over his head. He slowly walked over to the bridge, resting his elbows onto the railing and looking right down at the water.

You licked your lips and aimed your camera. You pressed record.

He looked…

Exactly as you thought he was on the inside. On the darkest parts of him where the demons could never leave. His head was craned so down, his eyes hooded and dark. His arms, although relaxed, almost seemed like he was shielding himself from the world going on. He looked scared. Alone.

You continued to record, holding your breath.

It was painful to watch.

But you couldn’t stop looking.

If you could, and if only you’d let him, you’d have pulled him into your arms, hugged him from behind and stuffed your face into his neck.

You swallowed, turning the camera off. And you looked away before your thoughts could consume you.

Jason walked over to you, took his hoodie off, then gave you that annoyed, playful glare.

-----

You pulled out your phone, balanced it on top of the car’s speakers with the audio plugged in. You made sure it was stable, then you leaned onto your seat. Jason caught you just as you finished, stepping into the car with paper bags of fries and hotdogs on a bun with drinks for your dinner. The sky had long dimmed down, but you insisted not to go home yet. You prepared more than three movies for you to watch and it was all from the comfort of your car seats.

Jason reclined his chair with you and settled in. He gave you your share of the food. “Alright. What do you got?”

“Ever watched Orphan?”

“Back when I was a kid. I can barely remember anything.”

“Well, we’re watching it now.”

“I thought you went through all the serial killer movies you could find.”

“I like to re-watch the best ones.”

Jason sipped on his soda. “Go ahead.”

You started the movie, took a bite out of your hotdog and sat back.

He wasn’t supposed to say yes to this. It was all getting way too intimate for his like. He should’ve insisted you go home and turn the movie off before you got any more ideas. Knowing how you used to be, you manipulated people to get your way. You’d be doing the same thing to him right now.

But.

Still, you insisted. And with you being so pushy and all, he didn’t have much of a choice.

Three days. That’s all there is.

This is the least he can do.

He looked at you, watched you chew on the fries like a kid with candy, then turned his attention to the movie.

It started with a mom and dad with a strained relationship going out to adopt a little nine-year old girl, who honestly looked too much like a demon spawn out of hell.

“Who the fuck adopts a girl looking like that?”

“Well…” You loudly sipped on your drink.

Jason looked at you.

“I looked like that. At one point.”

“You're kidding.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “I never told you?”

“I know you looked like Wednesday Adams.”

“I actually dressed a lot like Esther there.” Esther. The name of the nine-year old girl. “I followed her clothes and hair. Even her makeup. I wanted to creep out the adults, you know?”

Jason laughed out loud and took a bite out of his bun. “You're insane.”

“In fact, I think she looks real good.”

“Shh. Let’s watch.”

You bit your lips when it came to the sex scene in the kitchen. And Jason tried to distract himself with the soda and drank as loudly as he could to try to drown out the moans. You looked at him, awkwardly, then laughed.

“When grown ups love each other very, very much, they want to show each other that love,” the mother told Esther. “They wanna express it.”

The nine-year-old looked at her. “I know. They fuck.”

You and Jason snorted out your drinks and laughed so hard you swore you could taste the fries coming out of your nose. You threw your head back against the seat, drinking from your straw just to stop yourselves from missing too much of the movie.

“Fucking love that part.”

“I know.”

You watched on as Esther started killing pigeons and bullied one of her classmates. You laughed, and Jason looked at you quizzically. “That’s so you.”

“When I was ten.”

“Sure.”

Jason watched you laugh, rolling your eyes at him, and he took a moment for his lingering gaze on you before he looked back.

“That kid’s gonna kill the nun.”

“Dude, don’t spoil it.”

“I thought you watched this!”

“Well, I forgot most of what happened and I want to relive the insanity that is this movie.”

“Alright, fine.” You smiled.

The nun was warning the mother of what happens with the girl around, saying how bad things always followed wherever she went. She ignored the nun, and Esther, with that creepy look on her face, struck the nun’s head with a hammer.

“I know I said hammers used to be my favorite toy-“

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Really? You weren’t about to say I could have killed a nun like that?”

“No. But you certainly did a number on a whole lot of people.”

You glowered at him. “Thanks a lot, Todd.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

Esther then brought her mother a bouquet of flowers from their stillborn daughter’s grave, then the mother grabs her arm, after which Esther fakes an injury and blames her for it.

“Okay-“

“Y/N, I swear if this ain’t you-“

“I know I faked an injury once-“

“Yeah, you fucking did.”

“But that girl deserved it.”

“All she did was invite me to her house for a project that we were paired up with and you got so jealous that you purposely bumped into her so her coffee would spill. Then you faked a burn on your hand.”

“I-“

“What? You gonna deny that?”

You groaned and threw a French fry at his face. “Shut up.”

It was wrong. So wrong. But fuck, he hadn’t smiled so much since he fucking died.

“Stop comparing me to this nutjob.”

The nutjob in question, Esther, waited for her mother to get out of the car. Then with the baby still inside, she released the brakes and let the car roll all the way down the hill to incoming traffic.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I have never done anything like that.” You pointed at yourself.

“If you did, I’d have called the cops on you.”

“I fucking swear on my life.”

“Okay, don’t get all defensive on me.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

You nudged Jason’s shoulder, then sipped the last of your drink.

Jason looked down, with the movie still ongoing, and saw how your elbow was just barely grazing against his own. He looked at your arm, trailing up to your face.

Then looked away before he had any more thoughts. Possibly of him pulling you to his arms and cuddle like you used to.

Ester then puts on a provocative looking dress, makeup, and acts like an adult woman trying to seduce her drunk father. It was disturbing to say the least. And you’ve seen the scariest shit in movies.

“This part made me the most uncomfortable,” Jason said.

“Are you sure? Not this part?”

Then, it was the scene you re-watched over and over. Esther storms into her room and takes off all the makeup that covered her age spots, her teeth, the scars on her wrists and neck, the bandage around her chest.

“A thirty-three-year old woman…”

“Fucking hell,” Jason breathed. “I can barely wrap my head around that.”

“Hey. Imagine if that kid you helped today was actually older than you.”

“Shut up.”

You laughed. “I’m serious. We don’t know. Any of these kids could be Esther.”

“I actually once read a news report.”

“This shit happened in real life?”

“Yeah.” Jason pulled out his phone then started searching for the article. “Here.”

A twenty-two year old woman from Ukraine with a rare case of dwarfism posed as a six-year old girl to her adopted family. It was almost exactly like the movie.

“Dammit, it’s actually real?” you asked.

“Yeah. And she goes by the name of Y/N.”

“Fuck you, you imbecile.”

“You did half the shit she did,” Jason laughed. You threw another French fry at him.

“I don’t act nor look like a little kid.”

“We don’t know. You could be forty.”

“I will stick this straw up your nose.”

“Fucking do it.”

You charged at him, laughing so hard when Jason blocked your arms, holding you by the wrists as you struggled to get off his hold. You dropped the empty cup on his lap, and you didn’t even realize the movie ended. Jason held your arms down, looked at you. “You can stop now.”

Your laugh turned into a small grin as you met his eyes. He was smiling back at you.

Then he let go of your hands, taking the cup off his pants and cleared his throat. You did the same, taking your phone from the stand and turning it off before the battery runs out.

“It’s getting late.”

He watched your face turn downcast. He was getting closer for all this to end. But you definitely weren’t looking forward to it.

“Hey. Look.”

He pointed out the window, where a girl was sitting by a tree, perfectly under the lamppost where she was lit up with just the right amount of light. She had her head down, arms crossed, and she looked alone.

“Fucking hell, this is gold.”

You both rushed out of the car, you holding onto your camera. You stormed out into the dark.

“Take it from there.” Jason pointed. You followed him and he stood next to you. You started filming.

The girl didn’t do much. She was just under the tree, staring at nothing. She was probably asleep waiting for someone to arrive. And there wasn’t anyone around except you two so it was perfect to get that shot. Jason looked at you, watched you work.

You put the camera to your eye, adjusting the lens at you worked. You had that small bite in your lips you often did when you were focused, and your eyebrows were furrowed.

A leaf fell to your head. He smiled.

He flicked it off with his finger and you looked up. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You went on with your work, and when the girl started to move away, you stopped recording and watched the footage. “What do you think?”

He took the camera in your hand.

You got a shot of her arms holding herself in a tight hug, her head down and her mouth, which was the only part of her face you captured, in a deep, sad frown. The light looked perfect, and you definitely had a talent with camera angles.

“This is really good.”

“Thanks.” You took the camera back and stuffed it into your bag.

“You think you got enough for your music video?”

“I certainly hope so. I’ve been filming since last week.”

“Is your song really that depressing?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is.”

You started walking back to the car.

Jason watched your face again. And asking without much thought on it, he coughed. “Can I hear it?”

You stopped from opening the car door.

“The song?”

“Yeah. Whatever you got in your phone. I wanna hear it.”

You started looking uncomfortable, looking at the ground and licking your lips. “I’m not sure if I should…”

“Come on.”

You took a deep breath, leaning your back against the car. Jason walked to the other side and stood next to you.

“Fine. But don’t tell me what you think of it.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.”

Jason laughed and stood in front of you. You looked up at him, at his eyes, at his lips, then you pulled your phone and earphones out.

He watched you scroll through your music, plug in your earphones, then you gave one to him. Jason placed it onto his ear, and the other one you stuck to yours. He looked at you.

You pressed play.

It started with piano keys, most probably played by you. You didn’t just record this with your phone. You basically did this in your own home studio you probably had in your room.

And it was beautiful. Your playing. Then you started to sing.

“I wake up… to a dream I thought I had…

A dream I thought should have been

Stuck in the nights, when I was sad.

Like I have been for so long…

The dreams in fact were real.

The worst of them…

And there’s nothing I can do…

Why did you have to take away

The only thing that made my life

So real.

So real…

Why did this have to happen,

What could I have done,

To change.

And have you back…

For all that’s worth,

You changed me for the better.

But you're not here to see me…

Why… why… why…”

He swore the air never felt so thick. You were shaking, pushing your eyes to shut so close together.

And he stared at you, listening to every word, standing so close to feel your breath.

“Now I’m all alone and

I can't try to hide

That I will always love you

No matter how far you’ve gone….

No matter how long you’ve been gone…

Why did you have to go away

When you're the only thing that made my life

So real

So real…

Why did this have to happen,

What could I have done,

To change

How things turned out.

How I could still have you

In my arms…

Then maybe the dreams at night.

Would make it through the day.

And I’ll have you back…

And I’ll have you here…

You continued with the piano chords, playing so majestically that he had to breathe in just to get this all through to his head. The song got to the end.

By then, you were shaking.

You didn’t move, and neither did he. Still with the earphones’ wire closing your distance, Jason remembered the words, every part of it. And how your voice was so beautiful, yet so sad to listen to when you were singing with all your heart.

You stuck your attention at the grass beneath your feet, and Jason kept his stare at you.

“When did you write this?”

You still kept your head down, and you started to pull the wires to wrap it around your phone. Jason didn’t move. He still stood so close to you.

“Y/N…”

“Two years ago…” you whispered.

Two years ago. That would have been a year after…

Jason breathed in through his nose. Deep, shaky breaths, then exhaled through his mouth. You swallowed.

“Did you write it for…”

You were rocking your leg just to ease your muscles.

“Y/N, was that about me?”

You looked up around you, at the grass behind him, at the trees, the lamppost, the skies. You bit your lips. You didn’t answer.

But when you finally caught his eye, you seemed to get closer. Nearer. Your breaths were hotter and he desperately wanted to close that distance.

Of course it was for him. Who else could it have possibly been for?

His heart sank, much like it was melting into a pot. He hurt you. He hurt you that much. And he couldn’t believe it but you managed to turn that hurt into something so amazing that you took every bit of his breath away.

And your fucking voice. It still kills him to this day.

“Uhm,” you gulped. “You can take me home now.”

Jason stood back and let you open the door so you could get in.

-----

You waited for him to stop ruffling his hair and get in the car.

You shouldn’t have done that. The whole point of you writing that song was about how fucking devasted you were after you lost him. He was the last person who should have heard it.

Jason got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“For what it’s worth, it’s amazing.”

You looked at him, let yourself smile, then looked out the window.

The car ride was horribly silent. And Jason would have put on some music if he had any in his new phone. But you were comfortable. It wasn’t awkward.

But it was still horribly, horribly silent.

You closed your eyes and let the window stick to the side of your head.

Jason was here, and you couldn’t pull him into your arms the way you wanted to.

You couldn’t kiss him, take him to the back seat and mess around like you always used to.

You couldn’t do so much as look at him long enough that you could perfectly take in every single detail on his face.

He was here, but the things you wanted to do, you couldn’t. And it felt too much like only getting to watch him from afar, bask in his presence without actually getting to hold him the way you’ve always wanted to for years when you never otherwise could have.

You asked for these few days with him hoping to actually have him, make the most of it.

But you also understood. How that was only going to make matters so much worse.

You looked at him through the reflection on your window.

You were never going to find anyone so ridiculously handsome and still capture your heart the way he did. You were still, in ways you’d cringe if you had to describe, hopelessly in love with him. In every possible way. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with this man and make babies and grow old together. You wanted it so bad, since even the first few months you dated. You just couldn’t find that with anyone else. Not even if you tried. Jason had been the only person you could ever imagine a future with. A future you desperately wanted.

And you didn’t want that to change. That part of you that refused to move on, it insisted that you continue to love him, never to let anyone else have a shot with you even when you most probably had to. A year, two years, three years passed. Still, you loved him just as much as when he was alive.

He will, and always will be, yours to the end of your days.

At least, until he told you not to.

It tore your heart apart when he died.

But even when he was here. Alive. You still couldn’t have him.

In just two days, you were going to let him go. For good. And you didn’t know what hurt more. When he left and you couldn’t have him anymore for what you thought was the rest of your life, or now that he was here, and yet you were going to have to live without him and go on your days pretending he never existed.

Yeah. It was going to be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do.

But… if it was what he wanted. If he just couldn’t stand being with you for another moment for reasons he decided for himself, for what was supposed to be your life, you couldn’t really do much to help with that.

So as all things you had to accept in this shitty story of yours that somehow had a continuation you thought wasn’t supposed to be, you let it happen.

You had two more days with him. You have to make it count.

Jason pulled up in your parking space and got out of the car with you. You turned to him, and he smiled at you as you walked down the sidewalk.

“I had fun.”

He nodded. “Me, too.”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he said. “You wanna go somewhere?”

“What if I let you choose? Would I like where we’d head to?”

Jason stopped just as you reached the steps. You took one step up just to level with his height.

“I do have a place in mind.”

“Where?”

Jason grinned. It drove you crazy. You watched every bit of his face.

“You’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Todd,” you breathed. “Tell me.”

“You trust me?”

You never smiled so brightly. “Fine…”

“It’s a far drive. So, I’ll pick you up at 9 am.”

“I can't wait.”

Jason looked down. “Might as well make the most of it.”

You let yourself look into his eyes. Get lost in the blue like you always did. Somehow, he didn’t look away. Instead, he stared back at you with the same exact smile on his face.

“Good night, Jay.”

“Good night.”

You took steps back, then turned around to unlock the door.

You really, really didn’t want this to end. Jason didn’t move away and he continued to watch you before you managed to open the door.

“And Y/N…”

You peered out from inside.

“Thank you…” he said.

You gave him a wide-open smile, then ultimately closed the door.

-----

“Good thing we stopped for gasoline.”

Your chair was pushed almost all the way to the back of the car. You put your feet up so your body was completely flat. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

The wide, open country road. Where the ends seemed infinite and the horizon looked endless. The grass was brighter, thicker, and everything the city didn’t have from the park you went to yesterday. There was almost nothing around them except for a few diners and houses far off into the land. Probably farms.

It was all so calming, soft and serene. He needed this just as much. Time away from his line of work. Even when he was barely getting started he couldn’t help admit that it was all so exhausting.

He momentarily turned to you, falling asleep with your hand covering your eyes.

“Ey,” he nudged your knee. “Don’t go falling asleep on me.”

You blinked your eyes, then you shot the seat back up from the recline. “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Yeah you were.”

“I didn’t get to sleep much last night.”

“Why not?”

“Well.” He heard you choke. “I drank coffee.”

“Again with the coffee.”

“Whatever. Let’s put on some music. From the looks of it, we have a long way to go.”

“We do.”

You eyed him as you took out your phone and plugged it onto the car’s speaker. “In the mood for some Beatles?”

“Y/N…”

“What?”

Jason sighed, looking back out onto the road. You continued to play the music despite him obviously not wanting your choice.

“Let me take you down

'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields

Nothing is real

And nothing to get hung about

Strawberry Fields forever.”

“Y/N, can you pick another song?”

“Why? We used to play these all the time.”

“Exactly. Turn it off.”

You scoffed at him when he deliberately turned the volume way down. Then your spoiled ass turned it all the way back up.

Jason looked away, glaring at the window.

He knew exactly what you were trying to do. Spark back all those memories, let him realize just how much he missed all those times with you in the hopes of him changing his mind about all this. You wanted him to relive those memories and make him miss you even more after all this was over. Of course. he was going to miss you. there isn’t a doubt behind that.

But he knew how manipulative you can be. You did that a lot. Get things to go your way when you didn’t want it to. And what was he supposed to do now? Demand that you turn off the music? Make you all sad when he was taking you somewhere supposed to make you happy?

Fight?

He snorted at the idea. No. Not again. You weren’t going to fucking fight like a couple. You were just friends. And it was supposed to stay that way.

The song had changed.

“Well, she looked at me

And I, I could see

That before too long

I'd fall in love with her

She wouldn't dance with another

Ooh, when I saw her standing there!”

You were singing, moving your body to the beat. He rolled his eyes when you hit his shoulder. “Jay, I’m not gonna sing the whole thing by myself.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“I’m not playing this game.”

“Fucking hell, just enjoy the moment will you? I get it. You don’t want to be attached.”

Exactly as he thought. You knew exactly what you were doing.

“Oh, we danced through the night

And we held each other tight

And before too long

I fell in love with her”

You rocked your body left and right.

He caught you in a glance. You were beautiful. You closed your eyes, singing, and you just sounded so good, it made his chest feel all warm.

You just kept going, occasionally tapping his shoulder to catch his attention. “I’m fucking driving.”

“You can sing and drive.”

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Yesterday

All my troubles seemed so far away

Now it looks as though they're here to stay

Oh, I believe in yesterday…”

Oh. Your voice. It suited this song like a fucking puzzle. He knew he really shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but watch you as you closed your eyes and started to sing.

“Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be.

There's a shadow hanging over me.

Oh, yesterday came suddenly.”

Despite all the voices within him telling him to stop, he really couldn’t. He was smiling at you and dangerously kept his attention away from the road.

Shit. He looked back out and curved from the road just as he was about to hit a dog. Jason cursed.

“Why she had to go?

I don't know, she wouldn't say.

I said something wrong.

Now I long for yesterday.”

Even with his eyes on the road, he still made sure to watch you, listen.

Fuck, you just make him bend to your every whim. He hated it.

And somehow,

He wanted to.

Making you happy just feels like the best thing he could possibly do.

And just a few days ago, he murdered a whole port of Black Mask’s men, left all the bodies floating in the water without so much as looking back. That, compared to where he was now, driving in the wide open road with you singing your fucking heart out so beautifully, he was sure to choke himself someday.

He only had two days with you. He didn’t want to make this as painful as it possibly could. The last thing he’d want to do is make everything so much worse than it already was, possibly break your heart all over again as if it wasn’t already so broken beforehand. He wanted this over with, done with, then he can finally let you go and you’ll never have to put up with his cold-blooded ass ever again.

“Yesterday love was such an easy game to play.

Now I need a place to hide away.

Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Why she had to go?

I don't know, she wouldn't say.

I said something wrong.

Now I long for yesterday.”

His grin was just becoming idiotic as this point.

Okay. He had two days.

He owed you that.

He owed you just a bit more happiness with him.

He owed you the closure you didn’t have. And mostly owed you your whole life. He practically ruined it.

And to him. Despite him hating every bit of his guts, what was so wrong in letting himself indulge in just a bit more happiness?

He needed this, too. With you.

No matter how much he could try to suppress it, or hide it from himself. You were still the light of his life. You still made him happier more than anything else there was. You were still the reason he wakes up every day, even when he didn’t even get to see you. You will always be the reason for his genuine smiles.

So what was wrong with making the most of the next two days?

He’ll enjoy this time. For you. for him.

It’s the least he can do.

So he breathed in, and started singing along with you.

“Yesterday love was such an easy game to play.

Now I need a place to hide away.

Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm.”

You smiled so much, your cheekbones lighting up. Your eyes had that sparkle and the tingles in him grew so much worse.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

You changed the song, and with your voices blending incredibly well with each other, Jason pulled down the car door.

Everyone should hear how good you are.

Everyone should see how beautiful you are.

About two hours passed. And you stopped by a diner on the way to get some food. You laughed while you ate. Jason couldn’t help his stares on you while you ate all the fries on your plate. You both watched the bad-quality TV up on the wall about some football game you didn’t really care much about.

His smiles never actually died down. Not for a minute.

Then you were back on the road for another thirty minutes.

You were facing out the window, and he took glances on the reflection all the way until he reached the destination. You were in the middle of nowhere. He parked the car by the side of the road, and you both got out.

“Where are we, Todd?”

“Just wait. Come on.”

There was a walkway covered in seeping grass. You wouldn’t have been able to notice if he didn’t already know what was beyond the trees. You went with him, stood close to his body.

It wasn’t too far a walk.

But what seemed to have just been a lone building covered in leaves and vines now came to a much clearer view. And he made sure to catch the look on your face when you finally made out what you thought to have been just trees were actually the steel bars of a Ferris Wheel, a tall loop of a broken roller coaster, and swings suspended from a tall poll.

“Todd, you did not.”

You got to the entrance, which had a clown’s face for the archway and its open mouth serving as a gate.

DAME BELL’S WORLD STATE CARNIVAL

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

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@sarcasmismyfirstlove

@damned-queen-of-gotham

@idkmanicantenglish

@wunderstell

@birdy-bat-riya

@get-loki@everyday-imfangirling

@comic-nerd-dc

@multifandoms916

@icequeen208@offendedfishnoises

@egdolan

@xemiefx

@arkhamtoddler

@elsenthal@mythicbitchx

@supremehaunter @

burning-alive

@lucy-roo

roseangel013bf

loxbbg

reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries

shadowsndaisiesriver9noble

zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries

@knightfall05x

@l-horizon11 flowersgirl02

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd angst #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years

Text

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 10

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordham. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

A/N: Thanks to official Sonny Carisi historian @cycat4077 for screaming with me and sending me the relevant episodes.

December 2015

“Tor, hurry! We gotta get to ma’s for mass.”

“I’m hurrying,” she said from her place on the couch, carefully buckling the strap of her mary jane. “Dom, we’ve got ten more minutes.”

“I just don’t want to be late. Everybody’ll be together this year. And Bella’s bringing the baby. They’ll all be there.”

“And look, I’m ready,” she smiled, kissing him softly when she stood. He wrapped around her waist, humming. Christmas had always been his favorite holiday, but it wasn’t quite the same without her. It had always been him and Victoria chasing the nieces and nephews around the house. He’d held Mia through each of the masses she was a baby for, and he was looking forward to holding Alma and Lucy through their first services. Alma was Bella’s girl, three months old now. Lucy was Gina’s and eleven months old. He’d been waiting patiently to spend more time with them, and now he got to. And he got to see them with Victoria by his side.

Between therapy and the eight months that had elapsed, they were doing exceptionally well again. She’d known he was more than capable of being great, but it was nice to be back to where they’d been before. They’d be together on Christmas morning, and that had a new meaning to him now. He’d woken up alone the last two. As they drove to Staten Island, she laced their fingers and watched him drive, and she was rewarded at a light by a broad grin.

“What?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I just remember I get to be married to you. It makes me happy.”

“Stop it,” he laughed, cheeks going red as he looked back at the road. They were nearing his mom’s house. Her mom was somewhere in Europe for Christmas this year, so they’d be spending the night in that house, and he expected either one or two of his sisters and their husbands or the nieces would be joining them for the sake of space. He parked in the driveway, grabbing the duffel bag and dumping it in the living room of Victoria’s mom’s place before they went to his ma’s porch. They’d seen her plenty of times since Bella’s wedding, but Victoria still got nervous. Sonny had changed, and his mother didn’t like the way he stood up to her more and felt it was Victoria’s fault. She took it easily, thankful Ma didn’t give her a harder time.

“Sonny,” Bella squealed when she answered the door. “And Tori! We get you on Christmas again!”

“I know,” she laughed, hugging her close. “Where’s Alma?”

Bella rolled her eyes, leading her to the living room. Within minutes, Sonny had Lucy on his lap, and Victoria had Alma laying against her chest. Since Alma had been born, the last hesitance to have a baby had left Sonny, but he was trying to figure out how to bring it up. Seeing her cradle the newest of their nieces woke that same urge, and he watched her with a soft smile when Lucy was distracted with the singing bear in her hand. He wanted to see her holding their baby. Lately, they’d been babysitting the four kids in their lives. On the weekends, they rotated between helping with Noah or Jesse or Alma or Lucy, whether it was meeting for a family lunch or watching them so parents could run errands.

The carloads of Carisis settled in the pew at mass, and his sisters were delighted to let Aunt Tori and Uncle Sonny take them. It always made Victoria’s stomach do flips to see how easily he could calm a baby. When she held Lucy, she was old enough it to be entertained by a pen and paper from her bag. Alma required that careful bouncing he was so good at, his hand cradling the back of her head as he sang hymns. When he caught her eye, she got a broad smile and he mouthed Lucy’s happy, like there wasn’t a three month old clutching the sleeve of his blazer as she slept. And when they got home, he watched his sisters take their babies, tuck them in with help from their husbands. He got overwhelmingly jealous sometimes, feeling like it was time for him and Victoria. But he had to be patient.

“It was good being with everybody,” Victoria hummed, stretching as they walked to her mom’s place. He hated how her mother was always gone. It was always highlighted after holidays like this. Her dad had abandoned them, and then her mother moved to Staten Island and had enough money to not need to be around. Family trips were trips where she left Victoria in an apartment with a credit card. They only arrived and departed together.

“It was,” he smiled, rubbing her back. “I liked getting to see the girls. I invited Rollins in case she and Jesse were on their own, but I think they had plans.”

“That woulda been a full house.”

“Yeah. Maybe next year we’ll have the newest baby.”

“That’s pretty soon, Sonny.” She was washing her face, grinning over her shoulder at him. “We ain’t been back together long.”

“But you’ll be such a good mama,” he murmured, long arms wrapping around her waist as he pressed a soft kiss to the crook of his neck.

“And you’ll be an amazing daddy, cher. But it’ll take time.”

“I just can’t wait. I think about it all the time.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe we can start trying,” he teased, tugging her against him.

“Not yet.”

“C’mon beautiful. Could have a baby conceived on Christmas. That’d make them due late summer. I’ll be done with school and the bar. All daddy time during paternity leave.”

“Dominick, stop,” she said firmly, hands resting on his chest before she pulled back. At first, talking about how much she wanted his kid, how much she thought about it, made her happy. She felt like they were on the same page. But then the idea of their own baby being here at the next Christmas made her panic.

She was curled in their bed, clinging to his pillow having not gotten to say more than hello or goodbye for weeks.

She was standing outside the restaurant on her birthday realizing he forgot.

He was coming in after missing Valentine’s Dinner as though nothing had happened.

It was their baby’s birthday, and he wasn’t there.

She felt her eyes well up, hands curling into the soft material of his henley, and then there was Sonny now, cupping her jaw as tears started to fall. They hadn’t been having issues, but this was burrowing up over the last couple of months. The case he’d shadowed, the teacher catfish case, the reality TV family that missed the sexual abuse of two of their daughters. He’d come home after each a little more distant. But he’d come back to himself after a day or so. But what if there was a little one there? A daughter whose face Sonny could put on the pregnant girls, the students being abused by their coach, the boy raped, killed, and buried under concrete.

“Talk to me, Tor,” he whispered, holding her shaking hands as he backed her to sit on the bed. Sonny kneeled, hand on her knees. “Hey, hey, look at me, Doll. I’m right here. It’s Dominick.”

“What if it happens again, Dom?” she choked out, twisting to wipe her eyes on her shoulder so she didn’t have to let go of him. “What if the cases get to you and you disappear? There’s so many with kids. High school, elementary school, younger? I know you’ve been having fun being Uncle Sonny with Lucy and Alma and Jesse, but if we have a kid, and you panic? Then I’m alone again, but I’m alone raising a baby. Dad left! And mom may as well have! We’re literally staying in her house without her, Dominick.

“What does that have to do with this?”

“You were the only person that never left me. And you may as well have. What if a baby makes you feel like you might taint them so bad you do?” Her voice was airy as she took a shaky breath, and Sonny scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

“Baby, I wasn’t thinking about how you must be feeling. And I never thought about it in terms of your parents. But you gotta know I won’t. But also, I understand why you feel that way. What do I gotta do though? I’m trying so fuckin’ hard. This is all I want. And I know I fucked up, but what else can I do? I’m not your mom. And I’m not your dad. I’ll always come home, okay?”

His voice sounded desperate, and she hated herself for not being able to move on. Then again, she’d only been actively thinking about it for a month, and now they were talking about it. That was progress. She didn’t let it simmer unsaid until it reached a boiling point so high she could only leave.

“I know. You’re not. But it scares me, having a baby after what happened.”

“I’ll never emotionally abandon you like that again. I never left physically, but it might’ve been meaner, what I did. But what can I do so we can move forward?”

“Dom, this sounds really weird, but I think it might be progress that this conversation is happening.”

“How is not wanting to have a baby progress?”

“Stop saying that. That’s not what I’m saying,” she whimpered, cupping his cheeks. “I want your baby. But I’m not thinking about it as a nebulous concept when we’re better. This is reality. And I’m scared about something you might do, and we’re discussing it.”

“It is. And in reality, I would quit the force, cancel the bar exam, and move to Michigan if it meant having a family with you. If the force gets in the way of me bein’ a good husband again, I’ll quit.”

“You wouldn’t be happy.”

“I’d have you and our baby.”

“So you’d become a teacher or a salesman?”

“I-I guess not?” he muttered. “But I’m going to make this work. I am.”

“Six more months, okay? It took eight for me to go from ‘a baby in ten years’ to ‘here’s the reality of how I feel about a baby in this exact moment.”

“We talk about this is therapy though? I didn’t know your parents still upset you like that. I wanna make sure I’m not being a dick or anything. I understand why you feel this way, doll. But we also can’t know the future.”

“I know, Dom. Just give me a few more months, okay?”

“Deal,” he whispered, kissing her gently. “Let’s sleep. They’ll be comin’ to get us early so we can do Christmas morning.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, doll. I can’t undo what I did, but I’m mad at me, if I’m mad at any one. I hate knowing you have a reason to feel like this. You’re not irrational, even though I’m sure I’ve changed.”

“You’re going to be an amazing dad, Dom.”

“You will too, Tor.”

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

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wreckofawriter · 4 years

Text

Pulled Apart

~Part 1~ ~Part 3~

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Regulus Black x reader, James Potter x reader, Remus Lupin x reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Swearing?

Summary: Everyone is lost in the world as the man soon to be called the Dark Lord rises to power. Your parents are already ready to give their life along with your own for this man. You spend your seventh year in Hogwarts being pulled apart by the expectations for you and the hope placed in you by your childhood friend Sirius and his closest companions

A/n: Sorry I've been so inactive. I just finished my last week of school and I had a shit ton of projects to do and now its summer so I feel empty... anyway hope you guys like it! Also check out my 2k celebration

A soft giggle met your ears, its familiarity was hypnotizing, its source just out of reach. You gazed around the room trying to find the origin of the noise, the shimmering gowns and sharp sound of heels on marble confused your senses. You felt a soft tap on your shoulder, the feeling of relief rolled over you as you greeted the curious grey eyes of your best friend. You reached your hand out to touch his cheek but instead of meeting skin, your fingers fell through as if you had tried to hold the wind. Suddenly you were shoved forward falling through the mist you had been convinced was Sirius and landing on the ballroom floor. Your white dress spilled around you as you tried to stand.

“Y/n, are you alright?”

You looked up to see Regulus, he was dressed in a formal suit, his hair brushed back from his face. He held his hand as an offer which you took. As you were pulled upright you glanced down at your gown, its brilliant white and delicate lace were blinding. A vail spilled down your back, a golden band shimmering on your left hand.

You felt your heart speed as your eyes darted around the crowded room of blurred faces. They landed on your mother her smirk ever present as her face twitched into one of a pale demon. Your breaths were short and useless.

“Y/n?”

You looked up at Regulus who now held your hands gingerly in his own, a soft look of concern graced his sharp-cut features. You felt dizzy, the heels you wore digging into the back of your feet. The thin lace of your dress did nothing to hide the tattoo stabbed into the skin of your forearm. A snake pulling from a skull in a gruesome scene. You opened your mouth to scream.

You sat up suddenly in your bed. The sheets you were tangled in felt slick with sweat, a shiver rippling your body. Your memory began to do flips as the strange dream that had woken you evaded the present thoughts of your mind. You stared at the dull grey light which blanketed your dorm, the quiet sound of Bellatrix’s snores giving you no comfort. It felt wrong, sleeping so close to your enemies. That’s what they were now right? Enemies. Or maybe the conversation you had had with the curious man in half-moon spectacles had been some twisted, far away dream as well. You couldn’t quite think straight, your stomach churned with the familiar feeling dread.

You leaned for your wand which stood on the small table next to your bed, you flicked it with a whisper, and light filled the small curtains which surrounded you. Sliding them aside you stepped from beneath your blanket, warm feet cooling on the stone floor. You pulled on a sweatshirt and padded quietly towards the door. Pushing it open carefully you thanked the hinges for their silence and began down the steps.

You had always preferred the castle at night, the sliver moonlight which filtered through the windows, the soft whine of the wind, the snores of portraits. Not to mention the lack of prying eyes and the comfort of solidarity which you rarely felt. It was all calming, therapeutic.

Your original destination had been the astronomy tower but when you heard a pair of footsteps in your path you turned quickly and instead headed for the small courtyard. You made it without incident, the sound of the falling water paired with the chirp of crickets was lulling.

You slide to the ground, back resting on the cool concrete of the fountain, and leaned your head upward. The moon was nearing full, stars bright and blinking. The night was slowly fading, you still weren’t sure what time it was but your guess was close to three.

Dumbledore’s words repeated in your head, the image of a young Sirius sobbing in front of you spilling in your vision as you slipped from reality. You felt your eyes sting with unshed tears before you managed to blink them away.

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped forwards, eyes opening as you instinctively raised your wand. You peered over its point to see James Potter. His hair was its usual curly mess, glasses crooked on his nose, his dark eyes peering down at you in confusion.

You stood too quickly, wand lowered to your side, “What are you doing out of bed?”

He grinned, “I was going to ask you the same.”

You folded your arms in front of you, “Well I asked first.”

“Well, I’m head boy so I win.” He smirked pointing to the small pin which shimmered on his robes.

You scoffed, “There’s nothing to win.” turning away from the boy you prepared to leave.

He tsked his tongue taking a few hurried steps until he stood in front of you, “Seriously y/n, you didn’t think you were getting away this easy did you?”

“I was kind of hoping I would.” you scowled, “But I supposed you are wearing the snitch badge.”

“It’s not a snitch badge.” James defended, your eyes rolled. He paused sighing, “Look y/n, just tell me what you were doing. I’m not going to sell you out to anyone.”

You glanced up at him in consideration, “You first, you’re not doing any narc duties this late so you’re out here for a reason too.”

“Stubborn.” He mumbled but complied, “Fine, I was setting up a prank.”

“Liar.” You stated plainly, “I’m not stupid Potter.”

He furrowed his brows, “Why would I lie?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“I’m not lying.” He argued, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You narrowed your eyes at him scanning his appearance, “Fine.” you said finally and James released a breath.

“So why are you out?” He asked hurriedly.

You hummed, “No reason really. I just can’t think in my dorm.”

James frowned, “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

“More fun to watch you struggle,” you explained with a grin, “I don’t know why you care in the first place.”

“Because we’re friends.”

You clicked your tongue, “Are we?”

He laughed lightly, “You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“That’s rude.” You respond, “Look I’m exhausted, I’m heading back.”

“I’ll walk with you,” James stated. You rolled your eyes again.

You both headed back through the corridors and down towards your common room in silence, neither of you were too fond of getting caught, the idea of detention wasn’t all that appealing.

“So what were you thinking about?” James asked as you reached the safety of the dungeons.

“What?”

“You said you went to the courtyard to think,” He explained, “What about?

“None of your business,” you answered quickly, happy to see your escape approaching.

James pushed his glasses up his nose, he didn’t like the feeling of paranoia you seemed to adopt. It was unsettling. He wondered if Dumbledore had asked you about joining the Order but didn’t dare bring it up.

“Well, uh thanks for walking me.” You spoke turning to face him.

James smiled, “It’s no problem.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and a small wave before whispering a password and disappearing behind the slowly opening wall.

Something was definitely up with you.

You sighed heavily, your eyelids seemed to weigh pounds as you started across the room. The sudden click of a light turning on caused your heart to jump.

“Merlin, Nina.” You gasped, hand over your chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She glared at you, her arms crossed in front of her, “Where were you?”

“Nowhere,” You replied. “Just out.”

“Who were you talking to?” She continuted.

“No one, what’s up with the interrogation?”

She ignored you, “You were with Sirius weren’t you? Really y/n? Right after he broke Pearl’s heart?”

“I wasn’t with Sirius.” You deadpanned, “And it wouldn’t matter if I was.”

“Who were you with then?” She pressed standing from her seat, her sea-green eyes boring into you in ways which made you shiver.

“I happened to run into James, it was no big deal.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Why did he walk you back?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You huffed.

She paused, tucking her shimmering black hair neatly behind her ears, “You’re lucky I don’t tell Pearl about you sneaking out again. She would be ticked off.”

“Whatever.” You mumbled heading back towards your dorm, Nina behind you, her hands tucking into her silk robe which cost more than it should have.

“Why even are you friends with Black?” She asked as you reached the top of the stairs, “He’s an asshole.”

“We’ve known each other forever.” You reasoned.

Nina scoffed, “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s a dick.”

You shrugged heading towards your bed, “Night Nina.” You sighed as you tugged your blanket over your shoulder. Images of tattoos and white dress suddenly conquered your mind. For some reason, Pearl’s heartbreak was the last thing on your mind.

The next morning was fuzzy around the edges, like some sort of haze. You felt half dead and half paranoid as if the entire school had somehow overheard the conversation you and Dumbledore had had the night before.

Nina didn’t speak to you about your conversation a few hours ago as you readied yourself. She had always been like that, blunt and stern. If she had wanted more information on where you had been she would have gotten it. You supposed being a muggleborn Slytherin made her that way. The only thing that kept her from being completely dehumanized by many of the Slytherins was her money. Despite being muggleborn you were pretty sure she was richer than anyone in the house which meant she could almost blend in with the spoiled rich kids you had grown up with.

Nina lead you towards the hall for breakfast rambling about some test she had in History of Magic and how you should really be studying more.

“Y/n! Nokomis!” A familiar voice called over the murmur of the crowded hallway.

You whipped around to greet none other than Sirius Black.

Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, “What do you want Black?”

“I need to borrow y/n for a moment.” He grinned but there was a sense of forgery to it.

“I’ll see you in a minute.” You whispered to the olive-skinned girl before starting towards Sirius whos smile had dropped.

“Whats up Siri?” You asked falling into step with your friend before suddenly being shoved sideways. You stumbled into a closet, hand pressing into a broom handle as your foot struck a small bucket on the ground. The door was shut and you were thrown into darkness

“Godric Sirius, what the hell is going on?” You hissed reaching out to try and find him but missing and tripping forward.

Sirius caught you in his chest your momentum sending him backward, colliding with the door. He didn’t seem to care as he snatched your hands into his own.

“You said yes last night right?” His voice sounded desperate.

You stiffened, swallowing thickly, “Yeah.”

In seconds he had you wrapped in his arms, your face pressed into the fabric of his dress shirt as he buried his head into your neck.

Shock froze you in your place for a moment before you melted into his embrace, the scent of mint and smoke filling you. Your worries seemed to wash away as Sirius held you, his quickened heartbeat loud in your ears, his breath hot on your neck. You felt the color rise to your cheeks and you only fisted his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you away from that shit,” he mumbled into your ear.

And suddenly it was all back, the dread, the anger, the fear. You were crying before you even knew it. Thick tears spilling from your eyes as you muffled sobs into the boy’s chest.

“Shit y/n, what’s wrong?” Sirius asked pulling back and prying you away from him so he could look you in the eye, now adjusted to the dim lighting.

You only cried harder raising your hands to your face to hide yourself.

Sirius was stunned, he couldn’t remember the last time you had cried in front of him, it must have been years ago. A slight panic filled him, “I’m so sorry. Did I say something? I didn’t-”

“It’s not you.” You whimpered, “I’m so scared Siri, I’m just so fucking scared.”

Sirius felt his face drop, eyes softening before he pulled you back into him, a hand threading through your hair. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he mumbled, “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

You didn’t get a chance to see Nina or the others before classes. Instead, you headed for Arithmancy, a class you had grown to hate more than you should have. It didn’t help that Professor Vector hated your guts. She ignored your questions and always called on you for answers despite the fact that your hand was never raised. There was only one saving grace in the dreadful class and that was Remus Lupin.

You had been placed next to the boy by your professor on the first day of your seventh year and since then he had become a lifeline. On your way to the classroom you hated so much you did everything you could to not look like you had been sobbing in a broom closet moments before, you didn’t do much good.

You walked into the class head down wishing you had a hood to hide under. Remus was already in his seat a book covering most of his face. When you fell into your own place next to him releasing a soft sigh the book was dropped onto the table in front of him.

“Are you okay?” He asked. It had been barely fifteen seconds since you entered the classroom.

You gave him a weak smile, “I’m fine.”

Remus frowned, “Here.” his wand was suddenly out and pointed towards you. The boy didn’t miss the slight flinch that you gave but said nothing to it, “Tergeo.” He mumbled and the smeared trails of mascara were wiped away, your face left as a clean slate.

Remus felt his eyes flirt down towards your lips for only a moment before he pulled away, knowing he had stared just a second too long. “Sorry.”

You laughed lightly, “Why are you apologizing?”

His ears went red, he glanced down at his hands feeling a bit stupid.

You shook your head smiling. Your hand ran through your hair, and you groaned slightly, “My hair is so gross right now.” You muttered under your breath attempting to brush through the tangles with your fingers.

“Here.”

You moved your gaze back to your desk partner who now had his hand out, offering the navy beanie which had been placed on his head moments ago.

“Really?” You asked eyes wide as Remus shoved the hat into your arms, his own eyes looking at anything but you.

“Just take it.” He replied thrusting his face back into his book hoping you wouldn’t catch the heat which had now spread to his cheeks.

You pulled the beanie on top of your head tapping the werewolf on the shoulder, “Thanks Re.”

Remus gulped, sure you could see the blush that now filled his face as you smiled warmly at him, his own hat perched on your head, “Of course.” He managed to croak.

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @songforhema @wangmangagavroche @evyiione @atomicpunkrock @fairywriter-oracle @moon-zodiac @willowyreads @approved-by-dentists @itslilithsstuff @captainshazamerica @findzelda

Masterlist

One more thing: I have some major plot points figured out but I suck at story boarding so if there is something you want to see in this fic or ideas for plot, I will totally consider them

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starrybethany · 4 years

Text

Leon Draisaitl: Glorious by Macklemore

Word count: 3004

Music video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OrLroFa0AI

Lyrics link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSFz3NRSSc4

You know I'm back like I never left

Another sprint, another step

Another day, another breath

I take a deep breath, pushing open the door to the small building that was once my everything. Now, my company is spread across the continent in multiple stores. My heels click softly on the tile that I spent two hours picking out as I step inside the building, watching as everyone slowly turns to see who entered.

“Boss, we heard you were coming back but we just didn’t know when!” Veronica, my old assistant and closest friend here in Edmonton, pulls me into a tight hug.

I’m surprised by the kind greeting. Contact with all of the employees here in Edmonton fell apart except for being FaceBook friends when I opened the headquarters in Miami and started working out of there, so I just assumed they didn’t like me anymore.

And they aren’t the only people that I assumed didn’t want to speak to me anymore.

Been chasing dreams, but I never slept

I got a new attitude and a lease on life

And some peace of mind

“So to recap, we’re moving the headquarters from Miami back to Edmonton, keeping this store open to advertise it as our original location, and we’re opening the branch in Winnipeg to become the seventy sixth branch. Any questions?” I ask, scanning the room before ending the meeting.

The employees converse amongst each other as they exit the room and I stack my papers up, letting out a sigh of confidence. I’m very excited for this new step in my career, and I’m even more excited to be back in my home city of Edmonton.

A loud squeal snaps me out of my thoughts and I look up to see Veronica stepping forward to wrap me up in a large hug.

“You did so good, I’m so proud of you! Wow, you’ve really changed a lot in four years- but in a good way. You just look so happy and confident in what you’re doing now,” she smiles widely, leaning back against the table. “So, is there a boyfriend making you happy too?”

I chuckle. Same old Veronica. “Nope, no boyfriend. I’m too busy for a boyfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure you used that excuse four years ago too and someone convinced you otherwise,” she hints cheekily.

“Get back to work, Veronica.”

Seek and I find I can sleep when I die

Wanna piece of the pie, grab the keys to the ride

And shit I'm straight

“Hey boss, we’re heading out. Do you want us to lock up or anything?” One of my employees asks, sticking his head in my doorway.

“No, it’s fine. Have a good night,” I bid, not looking up from my papers.

“You too. Don’t stay here too late.”

I nod but don’t respond, trying to figure out the numbers in my head.

It’s only four hours later when I realize that it’s one o’clock in the morning and that I should probably leave to get some sleep.

I'm on my wave, I'm on my wave

Get out my wake, I'm running late, what can I say?

Well apparently I needed more sleep than what I got because I slept past my alarm and now I’m running late on my second week back. I need to work out more often because I’m out of breath just from running down the street towards my office. I figured it would be faster than trying to drive through the hecticness of Edmonton traffic.

I’m trying to avoid the deep cracks in the sidewalk and before I know it I’m running into a hard body, about to fall over until an arm reaches out and grabs my own.

“I’m so sorry!” We exclaim at the same time.

I look up at the sound of the familiar voice, eyes bulging when I see it’s the one who was once the love of my life. I watch as Leon drags his eyes up from the concrete. His eyes light up when he recognizes me and I swallow to keep my heart inside of my body.

“Y/N, you’re back.”

I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave

And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name

So when I leave here on this earth, did I take more than I gave?

Did I look out for the people or did I do it all for fame?

“Yeah, um, we’re moving back to uh, Edmonton,” I stutter through my words, just like I did when I first met Leon. He made me so nervous back then but he was so patient with me and listened carefully to every word, reassuring my many apologies. I guess he still makes me nervous.

“How is your empire?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

I laugh. He always referred to my company as my empire, knowing the potential that both it and I have. I guess he never considered that the potential would have to cause me to move.

“It’s good, uh,” I smile brightly at the memory of the other day, “I met with a manufacturer the other day and they already knew my name. Like I normally have to introduce myself, you know? But he was just like, “Hey, Y/N Y/L/N, it’s great to see you!” And it’s so cool to think that I have a legacy like that. And then he said that his daughter loved my bracelets so I had to give her the flower one that all of the preteen girls love. He said she would love it.”

I smile at the memory and snap out of my rambling, my eyes shifting back over to Leon’s. He gives me the admiring smile he always gives me when I talk about my business- he used to say it’s because I’m so passionate about it and it makes him even more attracted to me.

And from this smile, I’m assuming it still does.

Legend it's exodus searching for euphoria

Trudging through the mud to find the present, no ignoring us

Got 20,000 deep off in the street like we some warriors

My mama told me never bow your head, woo!

“So, uh, how’s hockey?” I question, trying to get the topic off of me.

“It’s good. Not as good as when you were in the stands,” he shrugs nonchantalty but my heart beats rapidly at the remark.

I can’t help but study him. His hair’s gotten longer since the last time I saw him and I have to hold back my giggle. I always used to beg him to grow his hair out but he would protest- looks like he finally complied as soon as I left. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and my mind flashes back to when he used to hold me in his arms, those eyes staring into my own as we would talk about our hopes and dreams.

God, all I want to do right now is pull him into me by the collar and kiss him.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

My phone vibrates in my hand and we snap out of our little staring contest. I watch as Leon’s eyes snap to the device in distaste and I check to see that it’s Veronica wondering where I am. I send her back a quick text with a sigh and then look up to see Leon already watching me.

I can’t help but blush, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.

“I should probably go,” I state.

“Yeah, you have an empire to run,” he says proudly, stepping to the side and motioning me past him. I smile shyly, moving past him reluctantly. Is this really it? Are we going to reunite just to leave each other so suddenly? “Oh, Y/N.” I turn around, raising my eyebrows in question. “We should go out for dinner sometime. Fully catch up and everything.”

I nod, quietly answering, “I’d like that.”

“Cool, me too. I’ll text you.”

I nod once more, turning around and doing my best not to dance until I turn the corner and I’m out of his sight. I missed Edmonton a lot- I missed my family, my friends, my employees, the city, but the thing, or person, that I missed the most was Leon.

And now I’m getting it all back, but mostly importantly, I’m getting the love of my life back.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

“So your stocks took a sharp dip just before you moved the headquarters to Miami.” I remember that- that was the first and last time I cried in Leon’s arms. I usually hold everything in, I like to leave the stress of work at the office but I just couldn’t that night. I already wasn’t sure if I should be moving or not and that just seemed like a sign.

I can still remember the shock on Leon’s face as I fell into his grip, holding onto his sweater tighter than I’ve ever held on before.

“Why was that?”

I make eye contact with the local manufacturer. It’s very important to me to find work within the community so I can publicize that on my products.

“The stocks went down because it was in the summer when we moved the headquarters. There aren’t a lot of holidays in the summer where jewelry is wanted so our stock always tends to go down in the summer months. We’re currently working on incentives to change that,” I inform him.

And now I'll see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

I'm feeling glorious

We make small chat as we walk out of the conference room towards the lobby of the building. I glance towards Veronica at reception to see a mischievous twinkle in her eye and give her a questioning look but brush her off, returning my attention to the manufacturer.

“And we’re currently working on 100% recycable jewelry-”I cut myself off as soon as I see him. You can always tell when Leon’s in a room.

He’s sitting in one of the chairs, practically looking like a giant in the tiny piece of furniture. He’s playing with his hands and by the time we make eye contact, his eyes are already on me. The sunlight streams into the room through the window behind him, giving him a golden glow.

I clear my throat, ignoring the inquisitive look the manufacturer’s giving me to continue my sentence.

“100% recyclable jewelry that will probably come early next year.”

“That sounds great, my granddaughter loves that sort of stuff,” he responds.

“Yeah? I’ll be sure to send you a bracelet just for her,” I smile politely, bidding him goodbye as he leaves.

Before I can even greet Leon he’s at my side. “Should you just be giving stuff out for free? I don’t think that’s how empires work.”

I can’t help but snort out a laugh at his dorky joke. “What are you doing here, Leon?”

“I texted you yesterday but you didn’t respond.”

“I didn’t?” My eyes widen. I pull out my phone to show that I never pressed ‘send’ on the text I meant to send back.

The hockey player laughs. “Typical.”

I push his shoulder jokingly.

“Come on, I have something to show you,” he urges, grabbing my wrist.

“Hold all of my calls for the rest of the day, Veronica,” I call out as he pulls me out the door.

“You got it!”

The crib looking Victorian (oh yes it is)

You know that we been going in

Since we hopped out that DeLorean (DeLorean, yeah we win)

“Where did you find this house?” I gasp in disbelief, slamming the passenger’s door shut as I gape up at the beautiful house.

“You’re supposed to wait and let me open your door,” he whines, stepping out of the driver’s seat. I follow him up to the house, watching as he opens the front door.

“Look at how beautiful this hardwood is,” I gush, walking slowly throughout the house. He follows me from a few feet back, admiring me as I touch all of the unique features of the house. “Seriously, Leon, where did you find this house?”

“Called a realtor, or two.” Then he lowers his volume to a level he probably thinks I can’t hear, “Or five.” Then he raises it again. “Asked if they knew a good victorian house for sale. And it has to be victorian.”

I laugh at that. He would always make fun of me for how in awe I was at The Addams Family’s house. But I’ve wanted a large Victorian house to raise my kids and dogs in.

“Is it for sale?” I question, looking back at my former lover. He already knows why I’m asking.

“You may have some competition.”

“Oh yeah? I can probably beat them,” I state confidently, crossing my arms.

“I don’t think you can.”

“Yeah? Why not?” I raise my eyebrows.

He gives me a cheeky smile. “Because it’s me.”

En garde, things are just things

They don't make you who you are

Can't pack up a U-Haul and take it with you when you're gone

“Leon!” I whine, stomping my foot like a two year old. “Why would you show me this house if you’ve already wanted to buy it?”

“I have a plan,” he assures me, rushing forward to grab my hands. “You’ve moved back to Edmonton for good, right?”

I nod.

“And obviously there’s still romantic feelings and chemistry between us,” he starts.

I look down at the floor shyly, not knowing where he’s going with this. His fingers lift my chin up to meet his gaze again and he continues. “And the place you’re renting now, it came fully furnished, right?”

“How do you know that?” I ask.

“Please, you think Veronica would not drop hints to me while I was waiting on you for twenty minutes?”

“You were waiting for twenty minutes?”

“That’s besides the point,” he avoids my question, “This is the perfect house for us. Four bedrooms, the master bedroom on the main floor so we can get funky while the kids are in bed-”I laugh while he wiggles his eyebrows-”A nice office so that you can work from home if you want to. And have you seen the backyard?” He pulls me over to the kitchen window so we can see the luscious grass. “That’s a backyard made for an ice rink, babe. Come on, move in here with me.”

We posted on the porch, my family's glasses to the stars

My grandma smiling down on me like woo, that boy got bars

Okay, okay, yes I do

I said amen and hallelujah, let me testify too

I watch as he locks the front door, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Just think, baby, the next time you’re going to be here it’s going to be our house. With you and me.”

“You and me,” I repeat softly.

Another morning, a morning, don't let self get in my way

I got my breath, I got my faith and I remember why I came

“Good morning,” I greet, stepping into the office early like I do every morning so Veronica can fill me in on what’s going on during the day. “What’s going on, Veronica?”

“So you’re just going to be filling out forms until nine, then you have a meeting with Mr. Waterson until ten thirty-””Can that be rescheduled?” I request softly. My assistant gives me an odd look but nods. Usually I refuse to be the one rescheduling or cancelling- I think it’s rude, but today I woke up feeling less confident than normal and couldn’t bear to look myself in the mirror.

“You have a meeting with Isabelle at one thirty-”The beautiful, young, talented designer? No way I can handle that today. “Reschedule that one too. I’m going to go start on paperwork, please don’t bother me unless you absolutely need me.”

I avoid eye contact as I make my way to my office, hoping to distract myself with my work.

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

“Am I absolutely needed?” I snap, looking up as my office door is opened. My boyfriend closes the door behind him, eyes widening from my harsh tone.

I sigh, looking back down at the paperwork.

He quietly takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of my desk, leaning forward and waiting for me to say something. It’s always pissed me off yet left me in awe at how well he knows me- he knows that if he confronts me I’ll immediately get defensive. He just needs to wait for me to put my guard down more.

And he gets it when I lean back in my chair, meeting his eyes.

“Do you want to explain why I got a call from your assistant saying that you’re in a mood today?” He questions softly.

“Because she’s a snitch?”

He laughs at that but leans back in the chair, giving me a look to talk.

I look down at my desk, murmuring, “It’s just a low confidence day, I guess.”

My eyes move back up in surprise to see him pointing an accusing finger at me. “You stop being mean to my girlfriend right now!”

“Leon, what are you doing?” I giggle.

“I’m serious, if you keep telling her that she’s not beautiful and smart I will not hesitate to fuck you up!”

I laugh at that, laughing even harder when he tugs me up and out of my chair. “Now you say it with me ‘I was born to be a boss ass bitch.’”

“Leon-””Say it with me!”

“I was born to be a boss ass bitch!” We scream together.

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

“You created a company from the bottom, you sell bracelets and necklaces and earrings- and hell, 100% recyclable jewelry,” Leon claps like I just found the cure to cancer. “A beautiful woman who cares about the environment. You shouldn’t be here, you should be-”He grabs me by the waist, placing me gently on my desk.

“What are you doing, Leon?” I squeal.

“Stand up,” he urges.

I stand up and for the first time ever, I’m taller than him.

“You should be up there! Look at you, a magnificent woman on the pedestal that she deserves.”

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

“Do you feel better now?” My boyfriend asks once I’m safely off the desk and in his arms.

I nod, pulling him closer to me. “Thank you, Leon. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“That’s a lie,” he scoffs.

I gasp, pulling back to hit his shoulder gently. “Why would you say that?”

“You left me for several months,” he exclaims.

“But I was thinking of you the whole time,” I confess. He smiles softly, leaning in to place his lips on mine. They move against each other, a comfort that we didn’t know we needed until now.

We're planting a flag they don't understand

The world is up for grabs

We gon' be alright, put that on my life

When I open my eyes, hope I see you shine

We're planting a flag they don't understand

“My businesswoman, look at you,” Leon wolf-whistles from bed as I step out of the walk-in-closet in our beautiful, Victorian house. I roll my eyes but smile, buttoning up my blazer.

“I’ll be at your game tonight,” I remind him, leaning over to kiss his lips.

“Are we what they call a power couple?” He questions.

“I guess we are, Leon. I guess we are.”

The world is up for grabs

I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

It's who I am, how could I forget?

I’ll never get used to seeing Leon’s games, and I think he’ll never get used to seeing me in my natural element designing or being in meetings. We support each other unconditionally, because that’s what good partners do.

And the love we share is undeniable and nothing like I’ve ever felt before. If this is how we are now, I wonder what we’re going to be like in a few years with more goals, more sales, and a couple of cute kids.

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious

He scores a goal for me that night. And I save a recyclable bracelet for him.

#Leon draisaitl imagine #Edmonton oilers imagine #NHL imagines #Leon draisaitl x reader #Leon draisaitl one shot

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thewidowstanton · 3 years

Text

Archive feature from 2012: Lynne Essex – The Lana Sisters

One of the UK's greatest-ever singing stars, Dusty Springfield, (pictured left) was born on this day – 16 April – in 1939. To mark the occasion we are posting one of our favourite archive features, which came about after a friend met Lynne Essex, née Abrams, (right)… in a swimming pool of all places. Lynne had been a member of the Lana Sisters – a "girl harmony act" founded by Iris Long (later known as Riss Chantelle) – who gave Dusty her first professional job.

By Liz Arratoon

It is common knowledge that a 1994 advertisement in The Stage launched the Spice Girls’ careers, but more than 35 years earlier another girl group, the Lana Sisters, placed an ad in that newspaper that gave a much greater star her entry into showbusiness. In 1958, roughly 30 girls applied for the vacant position with the close-harmony trio. From their shortlist, Lynne Abrams and Iris Long chose 19-year-old Mary O’Brien, who would later become Dusty Springfield – the White Queen of Soul. But in those early days, as Abrams – now Lynne Essex – remembers, she was their last resort: “I loved her dearly; she was lovely but I have to say she certainly wasn’t glamorous and was very awkward then.”

Long had started the Lana Sisters, and Essex explains: “I was the first girl Iris took after she saw me singing in a little cabaret at a holiday camp. She’d originally worked with Ivy Benson, who led an all-female swing band, and learnt the business side of things from her. We were the Iris Long Trio for about a year, then established ourselves as the Lana Sisters and were very successful. We’d done all the donkey work, the touring and summer seasons up in the top of Scotland to iron our edges out. We had lots of work and a recording contract with Fontana Records.”

But with the departure of another girl they turned to “their bible” The Stage. The ad said [something like] ‘Well-established female singing trio, the Lana Sisters, require another member. Please apply by letter, enclosing a photograph’. A photo was vital, as Essex points out: “You can’t look like the back of a bus in this business and we didn’t have all the facelifts and things then.”

Thirty were whittled down to a dozen. “One particular girl seemed OK but we didn’t like the look of her photograph… and that was Dusty, or Shan, as she liked to be called. We’d auditioned the others and for whatever reason, they were useless. They couldn’t sing the harmonies, they couldn’t hold the notes; they were maybe very pretty but not up to it. In desperation really, I said to Iris, ‘Well, we’ll just have to have a look at this Mary O’Brien. She plays guitar and can sing. We’ll have to phone her.”

A rehearsal studio was booked in Leicester Square for 5pm and on a chilly day the girls waited. Five o’clock came, five past came, ten past, quarter past, with still no sign of her. “We thought, ‘She’s going to be useless; she can’t even keep time’. But as we walked down into the street we saw this little bundle of fake-fur coat coming towards us.” Full of apologies, Dusty, who was living in Ealing with her parents, explained she’d been delayed on the Underground.

Essex and Long returned to the studio to see what she could do. “We gave her an idea of the sort of songs we sang and, of course, when she started to sing she could do the harmonies off the top of her head. I could tell she had a very good voice, a unique voice. I said to Iris, ‘It doesn’t matter what she looks like, we can do something about that, and her stage presence’, which was pretty ghastly.” The Lanas were playing the Metropolitan Theatre in London’s Edgware Road, and decided to rehearse her running on and off stage. She managed that “without falling over” and they took her.

Dusty had only previously played tiny clubs in the West End with her brother, Dion. They played Latin American music and she would sing in Spanish. Her first professional appearance was with the Lanas at a show in Lincoln. Essex recalls: “All the big names of the day were there. We used to dress in lamé trousers and high heels, which were quite raunchy for those days. We weren’t twee like the Beverley Sisters. We had three minutes to get onstage down some pretty nasty concrete stairs. Dusty tripped, of course, fell, and tore the front of her lovely blue lamé trousers.”

After that inauspicious start, things went well. “She definitely improved our sound but it was a terrible shame that Iris wouldn’t let anyone sing the solos. We’d sing in unison. Dusty was only allowed to sing the bottom harmony, Iris sang the melodies and I sang top harmony, but to have a girl in the act with such a tremendous voice, it was criminal. They all have individual mics today but we had one central mic. You couldn’t wander off and sing on your own.” Long also wanted them to look similar and they had their hair dyed blonde just at the front by Raymond, Mr Teasie-Weasie.

The Lanas may not have matched the dizzy heights of Dusty’s later success but they were right up there with the likes of their “arch rivals” the Kaye Sisters. They did big summer seasons and their famous records include (Seven Little Girls) Sitting in the Back Seat and My Mother’s Eyes. They were the only supporting act for Nat King Cole’s London date at what is now the Apollo Victoria Theatre. “We did an awful lot; a whole series of Six-Five Special and a series of Ready Steady Go! on TV. And we’d play the American air force bases at home and in Europe.”

Dusty stayed with the group for two years but when the end came it was sudden. “We were always together and it was very strange. We were playing Taunton in Somerset and Dusty kept disappearing. At the end of the week she said, ‘I’m sorry girls but I’m leaving’. She set up the Springfields with her brother, now Tom Springfield, and Tim Feild. We couldn’t believe it. It was just before a big summer season with Adam Faith, John Barry and Emile Ford. They’d been rehearsing in a field and it was springtime. To this day I don’t know if that influenced the name. She’d gained an awful lot of experience with us and had all the grounding. Quite rightly she decided she should be singing the solos. It didn’t take long before they became very famous. That’s when she changed her image.”

But Essex says they had nothing to do with Dusty’s trademark blonde wig and heavy black eye make-up, and reveals: “She didn’t like her hair colour, which was red, and she didn’t like her looks. She thought she looked like Peter Ustinov.”

Six months later Essex met Arthur, her husband to be, got married, left the Lanas and had two children, Amanda and Michael. Iris changed her name to Riss Chantelle, found two new girls and started the Chantelles. Dusty and Essex, as close as real sisters – she was Amanda's godmother – stayed in touch until Dusty left for America. “Even today I have to pinch myself to think that I actually did take this young lady on. When I hear one of her records it just amazes me that that little bundle of fur that ran across the road, looking like Peter Ustinov, turned out to be such a huge, huge star. I’m so chuffed. I can’t believe I was part of it.”

Pictures of the Lana Sisters and the one above courtesy of Lynne Essex

A version of this feature first appeared in The Stage

#lynne essex #dusty springfield #lynne abrams #lana sisters #show business feature #1960s music #kaye sisters #Teasie-Weasie #riss chantelle

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crystalrainwing · 3 years

Note

hey hey hey august can I hear the wasp story?

THE WASP STOR(IES)

i will begin with a small bit of context. my mom used to be fatally allergic to wasps, specifically yellowjackets. i can’t remember what it was exactly but she had something done to make her not allergic to them anymore, or at least barely allergic. my dad has adhd and he also has a pretty skewed sense of danger; he’s very impulsive and these things combined have resulted in some... interesting... things.

THE FIRST (major) WASP STORY, aka my dad makes questionable decisions: part one

i can’t remember whether this was before or after The Wasp Incident but i believe it was before. at this point in time my youngest sister, squid, was probably four or five and EXTREMELY afraid of wasps because of something that happened when she was 2. at our old house, during the summer she wouldn’t go downstairs because wasps lived in our air conditioning and they’d get blown out into the main room down there. anyways. the rest of us didn’t like wasps either.

except, of course, my dad. my dad was and is not afraid of wasps.

outside my parents’ window was a massive wasp nest. one of the bowling- or basket-ball sized ones. mostly they didn’t bother us. my dad once stuck his hand in the nest just for funsies and only got stung like. 3 or 4 times. so. not too aggressive.

my dad, on this day, was leaf blowing our concrete patio. and the window was RIGHT there.

he wondered, what would happen if i stuck the leaf blower in here and turned it on?

so. he did.

we couldn’t leave the house for a day and a half. but the wasp nest was gone, at least, i guess.

THE SECOND (major) WASP STORY, aka my dad makes questionable decisions part two

this was maybe a year ago (so after The Incident). now there’s a kind of hornets called bald faced hornets. we were already familiar with them from The Incident. they’re mostly okay, because they won’t attack until you’re near their home (usually in a tree). but once they do, their venom is particularly painful. (unrelated but every year they’d eat any apples that fell to the ground and they’d get drunk cause the apples were a little fermented. it’s really funny.)

so in our cherry trees was a big wasp nest. we, of course, wanted to eat the cherries but me and my sisters were willing to just. not go near the tree; that particular tree did not in fact grow any cherries. my dad, being unafraid and bored, decided to find a way to get rid of it.

his original plan was to ‘just stomp on it.’ don’t ask me how that would work because i simply don’t know. he didn’t either. that was the end of the plan. notable problems include the fact that it was in a tree and the fact that it was full of wasps.

anyways. my mom told him that was not actually a good plan but tragically couldn’t convince him to just. leave it alone. the revised plan was to 1. go up a ladder to the nest. 2. cut it down with a... knife? saw? i don’t remember. 3. drop the whole nest + the branch into a bucket and finally, 4. shove a lid on the bucket real fast.

he didn’t even make it to step 2.

me and my sisters were outside, a fair bit away, watching. we knew it was going to be terrible and hilarious. and it was! i actually have the whole thing on video, somewhere; if i can find it and it doesn’t have anyone’s faces on it then i might post it here.

so here’s my dad, standing on a wobbly ladder which is right next to a very steep hill (our yard was essentially a downhill, a few feet of flat ground, and another downhill. good for sledding though). on the ground beneath him, the wasp bucket, and in his hand a dull serrated knife.

being who he was he decided to take a look at the wasps and stuck his hand right next to them. ‘oh,’ i hear him say. ‘these guys are aggressive.’

‘oh, they’re really aggressive.’ he drops the knife. the wasps come out.

we (me and my sisters) start running. behind us, my dad is yelling for us to get inside quickly and close the door because the wasps are CHASING him.

well. we couldn’t go outside that evening, but in the end the only consequence was my dad was in a lot of pain and had like, a fever and stuff from the venom (surprise surprise! they were bald faced hornets), and my cat acted drunk cause she got stung too.

pretty big consequence, let’s be real. i think my dad must feel pain less than other people, because... well. we all have learned th hard way how much bald faced hornets stings hurt.

THE WASP INCIDENT, aka a bizarre series of increasingly terrible misfortunes

the day of The Incident was perfectly normal. we went to a river with some friends, which was fun if a bit cold. i don’t remember the time spent at the river.

soon it came time to leave. we had planned on taking a picture together, but well, too bad. we would go home without it. oh, how i wish we would have gone home without it.

my sister, as mentioned before, was terrified of wasps. and there were a few wasps hanging around; we were near water, no big deal. if she saw one she’d scream, though.

into the woods we went, trying to find a place to take a picture (we stayed on the trail, though; there were some very little kids with us).

i clearly remember the moments before Disaster Struck. a 10 year old me found a beautiful flower. some cool mushrooms.

‘oh, here’s a good place for a picture,’ i hear behind me. the parents stood on the trail, while all the kids stood on a slope directly next to it. there was a nice log adding to the picture, it was very aesthetic, i’m sure.

suddenly, squid starts screaming. no big deal, she is five and screams a lot. she just saw a wasp, probably, or maybe hadden pinched her.

there was a little pinch on my leg. stinging nettle? maybe.

another. these hurt too bad to be stinging nettle. i didn’t know what was going on but we all ran down the slope faster than we’d ever run before.

i was feeling terrible pricks all over my body. please understand these were truly terrible. they were enough to bring me to tears with just one sting.

as everybody ran down the trail towards the cars and, presumably, safety, my mom ripped my shirt off for me because THERE WAS A WASP STUCK INSIDE MY SHIRT. once i got it out i understood what was going on - we were being attacked by wasps. everyone else was out of sight, around a bend in the trail, but i could hear their distant screams as i walked slowly and leisurely down the trail, in intense pain. i thought the trees were very pretty, and the sky very blue.

when i got to the parking lot i was met with the sight of my youngest sister, no pants or shirt on, crying hysterically and my friend doing the same. poor squid, five years old and deathly afraid of wasps, had been stung over 12 times by some of the wasps that personally i have found to be most painful. they’d gotten in her clothes.

the end of the story, right? you’re probably thinking. we go home, squid is even more scared of wasps, that’s it.

well, not quite. remember how i mentioned my mom used to be allergic to wasps? specifically, yellowjackets? and only yellowjackets?

as it turns out, bald faced hornets ARE yellowjackets. and in saving my sister from the wasps stuck in her clothes my mom had been stung six. times.

so. here we are. four parents, at least three crying children, in the middle of the woods 2 hours from civilization and, more importantly a HOSPITAL. someone camping nearby had benadryl but no one had an epi pen, and my mom was having an allergic reaction. she wasn’t going into anaphylactic shock, luckily.

but she still needed an epi pen, because she could.

just down the road was a boy scout camp, and for the first time we had good luck - there were people there. and a medical tent. we took her in, they were confused but they gave her an epi pen. i sat in the car with my friend, who was still crying. she gave me licorice. after an hour or so, my mom was fine. and we went home.

in the end everything was okay, and i have a fun story to tell. also happy to report that squid’s fear of wasps isn’t as severe these days, shes 10 now.

anyways. here are three of the reasons im not fond of wasps, and three of my favourite stories to tell friends (sorry to my irl friends who’ve heard this story SO. many times.)

#and here it is #in its full glory #took me like an hour to type out and idk if it comes across as well as text #ppl tell me i have a good story telling voice but idk if typing them out will be the same :///#soooo lmk how this was to read!!#also ty for asking bestie <3 #i love telling stories!!!#my posts #asks #my stories #wasp story #ask to tag #wasp tw #allergies tw

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ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is · 3 years

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(1) Hi! I wanted to request a typing? I don’t know my mbti (my friends keep telling me i act like an infp though??). I’m pretty confident that I’m a 9w1, but that’s the most I’m sure of. I just wanted to add that I’m 17 about to turn 18 in a month in case my age affects anything. I hope the information I provide is objective enough! For a long time I’ve navigated my life through going along with whatever my friends want, even if it’s not what I want. saying no is really difficult for me.

(2) I procrastinate a lot but at the end of the day I always get things done on time. my personal life can get unorganized and i’m very sluggish, but at school and my job I take my responsibilities and duties very seriously and often go above and beyond to do a good job. i like to stay in my comfort zone when it comes to hobbies. I enjoy things that have a peaceful/relaxing vibe like gardening, baking, etc. I don’t really change things up and I don’t see the need to take MAJOR risks.

(3) my sister went to a college in New York during her freshman year. She had never been before and just decided to go out of state for the experience. She ended up not liking it and transferred back to one in our state. that is something I would never do. I would be worried about me having no friends there or having to do life alone in a different state. I listen to the same songs on repeat, watch the same shows and movies, and eat the same foods very often since i’m a picky eater

(4) i have a friend who always invites me over but changes up our plans last minute. i’ll come over thinking we can chill at home but suddenly she wants to do a million things. “we should get our nails done” “let’s see a movie” etc etc; and i often get upset when she shows me new movies, even though i know i should just enjoy it. we often butt heads over this, and usually I just end up agreeing to watch whatever she wants to show me so we can continue to have a good time

(5) I get really upset when people are insensitive to others’ feelings. a friend of mine was upset that her husky ran away, and my other friend’s response was “well huskies are escape artists so good luck”. I felt that wasn’t helping her and instead made her more anxious that her dog may never return. i was upset that she would even say that because that kind of statement wasn’t really comforting. I get into a lot disagreements with my mother for similar reasons.

6) I don’t know if this is associated with every teenager going into adulthood, but I tend to have a lot of anxieties about my future and where to go after high school. i’m going to be 18 in a month, and I still haven’t learned to drive. I didn’t want to learn because the thought of growing up was scary. All I’ve ever known was being a student and a child under my parents’ roof. the thought of my childhood ending really makes me nervous, and I almost don’t know how to act as i grow older

(7) I do have a job interning for a summer camp though! I’m aspiring to be a music teacher. I just want to be able give children a happy experience at school. honestly i just can’t wait to decorate my classroom, throw loads of pizza parties for my student and shower them in gifts. i want them to feel safe and supported in my class. I don’t want to drag this on forever so I’ll end it there. I hope the examples are thorough enough!

------

Hi anon,

I think a 9 enneagram is reasonable, and all of this sounds like a (fairly young, which you are) ISFJ: you are anxious about the unfamiliar and somewhat resistant to change, and prefer to keep going forward with the original plan even if you don't like it as much. You are concerned with both yourself and others being mindful of others feelings by a general universal standard and tend to avoid conflict (although that's enneagram 9). You seem to dislike even relatively minor sponteneity, and your writing style is very concrete.

I don't really see INFP and I suspect that's coming from stereotypes, to be honest; there's not much Ne in this ask and in general the routine/familiarity focus instead of an interest in novelty and sponteneity make that type unlikely.

#mbti #isfj

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banxtm · 4 years

Text

⌠ FELIX MALLARD, 21, NONBINARY, HE/THEY ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, GERALD BANKS! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in UNDECIDED; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (dangerous pure - boy gaze, lazy arrogance, perked interest). when it’s the (aquarius)’s birthday on 02/14/2000, they always request their SHEPHERD’S PIE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

life before gallagher

gerald banks grew up in a legacy household with certain expectations attached to the money and the status

when those kinds of things are attached to your family name ‘ banks junior ’ sounds pretty good. eventually dropping it to just ‘ banks ’ himself. he always hated the name gerald anyway.

he was en route to graduating on top of his class at faircrest prep until his dad, the original ‘ banks ’ got killed in a car accident

his escape was skateboarding. it got him out of his head and into a crowd that accepted him for who he was not who his family was. he often kept his life a secret, not even allowing that group of friends to know what school he really went to - a spy prep school

when it came time to leave for gallagher, banks disappears on his pals without so much as a note because he’s bad with goodbyes. he still feels guilty about it

pretty much estranged from his family having lost respect for his mother when she remarried, but he still calls her on holidays

life at gallagher

tattoos can be covered up by their uniform or a proper fit

he says he only wears vintage, but it’s only because 90% of his closet is his dad’s old wardrobe

it makes him look like an over - privileged skater boy, wearing designer and making gallagher’s streets a concrete runway

where his family name previously made him want to hide, he’s standing tall now

he’s decided if he’s going to stay in this life, he might as well own it and make his dad proud

he’s back to getting the grades he did before his dad passed, but it now includes a bit more manipulation than it did when he actually tried

he doesn’t get close to people often but when he does he’d die for them

he uses his anger management issues to the benefit of his friends, always defending and sticking up for them

he’s sexually fluid, though he doesn’t feel the need to flaunt it or let everyone know

other stuff

RDF (resting disappointment face)

always dressing in layers and always yawning

holds grudges like nothing else

likes to act tough

hand-poked tattoos and ripped jeans

tattoos look like dark doodles on their arms

mystery scars that they never talk about

they live on slushies and nothing else

a voice like thunder and a laugh like lightning

loves late night road trips and the radio turned up loud

passionate™

jawline kisses and well pretty much kisses everywhere else too tbh

doesn’t know how to show affection other than to a few select people

pool aesthetic but also rainy day aesthetic

read a book donate a book

fish > literally every other animal

they know exact dates in history but not of like important things no they know when the first lion came to america

looks tired all the time (because they are)

tired eyes that sparkle in the sunshine

could probably disconnect from society at any moment

camping trips without sleep

they either eat everything or forget to eat

early bird

no pillow necessary™

bad jokes that are somehow comforting™

grass stains on his knees

will smell every single candle in a store if you walk by the candle section

gets excited whenever it snows and insists on running outside and trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue

refuses to drive if the roads are icy

takes naps and marvels at the way the sun hangs in the sky

likes those lazy kind of days where nothing needs to happen

he smiles at you under lamplight and plays the car radio so loud you can’t hear yourselves sing

heart sounds like a low hum of your favorite song heard under a revving engine

his smile looks like how it feels when you’re at a show and the music is so loud you can feel it in your chest

mesmerized by streetlights and how quiet everything gets at night

indecisive but not picky

too many playlists. has twenty different ones and is always making more

have you ever see them in the daylight? probably not

neutral face makes them look like a murderer

mood swings like winter wind

comes off as a jerk but is actually nice

but be cautious because they will fight you

laughs at corny jokes

acts like they are full of themselves but it’s actually just the opposite

prefers small towns to big cities

ripped jeans and old vans

probably owns a “punks not dead you are” shirt

bruised up knuckles

wears black in the summer

introverted

cat naps that lead to sleepless nights

cares about others too much but would never show it

washed out black box dye aesthetic

fast food at three am and wal-mart after dark

connections

n/a

// @gallagherintro

#« banks ╱ about »#gallagher:intro

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tobswrites · 4 years

Text

Shut Up, I’m not Scared!

Hey! I just finished, a certain part of School Briefs, (pretty sure it was Chapter 13 in the way the site I use is formatted) and turns out, Bakugou hates scary stories, or so it’s implied, so I wrote this real quick!

“She dropped me off just at the end of the street,” Mina continues with her storytelling, or for that matter, an actual ghost story that has been following her for years now.

Usually Bakugou wouldn’t be one to join shit like this, he won’t admit to himself, any less his friends, but fucking stories like this, scary ones, horror and ghost a like just didn’t suit well with him. They always gave him an unwanted thrill, a fear that prickled him.

But he stayed goddammit, first it was for that shitty red head, who begged for Bakugou to come join the rest of the ‘Bakusquad’ in the lounge area, using those famous puppy eyes of his, like what the fuck. At times those eyes of his reminded him of a Shiba Inu, a little dog with little eyebrows just like Kirishima’s own.

Kirishiba, he huffs, laughing at his own pun.

That’s beside the point, Kirishima had stuck to his side for the beginning of the night before he scooted closer to Mina to hear her story better, so there was no real reason for him to stay since his only incentive had left him.

Though if he walked out now, he would probably be called a sacredly-cat for leaving in the middle of Mina’s stupid story. Sure, he could always act cold, brush it off, but he was sure that Kaminari would mention it, and fuck that idiot knew his weakness, he’ll tease him and try to do that reverse psychology shit.

“As I passed the first house, the darkness seemed to get thicker, heavier even, it felt like I could climb on top of it, walk on it.”

He had no real reason to be afraid, a lot of the shit they were spewing was load of bullshit, exaggerated to make the story more enticing.

They pull all the tricker, using the fact they’re all going to die one day, darkness, even fucking shit like bugs are enough to pull anyone to fear and anxiety. They use the darkness, something that relates the brain to rest and sleep, relaxation, using your comfort against you. Throwing you into the unimageable in pure darkness when you’re greatest sense is gone, sight.

“And I could feel like someone was walking behind me as soon as I passed the second home, I did the trick with the makeup mirror, opening it up and looking at the reflection behind me. And there was no one, not a single person, but as soon as I was about to close the mirror, I swear on my life a black shadow moved.”

“It was just your fucking shadow.” Bakugou comments, stiff in his words as he was tensed.

Mina shakes her head rapidly, “Na-uh, I swear, there was no lamp post or anything, but I swore there was this like, black mass or something.”

“Someone was pulling a fucking prank on you with their quirk.” He says next, trying to calm his own nerves.

“What a shitty person.” Jirou says, calmly as she twirls one of her earlobe jacks.

“Guys!” Mina pouts, crossing her arms, “Let me finish!”

Bakugou groans, but waves his hand nonetheless, letting her finish as he falls back on to the sofa, looking at Kirishima who looked completely entranced with this sort of shit.

“Anyways!” Mina quickly says before anyone else has anything else to say. “I was almost home, I could see my neighbor’s house, so I started to walk faster, taking larger steps and all, I was practically running.”

She fastens her speech, like she was losing her audience and wanted to get the story to end, which thank fucking god.

“And as soon as I got to my doorstep, key out and all, I felt safe, I made it, I remember thinking but as soon as I entered the key into it’s whole, I felt my entire body freeze up, chills on my spine, and for a second I swore I could feel a hot puff of air on the top of my head.” Mina gives the audience an example, puffing once before continuing on.

“I shrieked and swung a fist, uppercut style,” she says proudly, but soon slumps her shoulders, “but there was no one.”

“Please tell you had it all video tapped.”

“Yeah! Security camera’s bitch!” Mina snapped her fingers, “it even records a separate video using infrared! You know, for those invisible using quirks? Well guess what? There was absolutely nothing caught! No body, no heat signature! No nothing!”

“Not even the puff of air on your head?” Kirishima as, flattening down a hand on the newly washed hair.

But Mina shakes her head, “None, I thought for sure I would catch something…but holy shit I thought I was gonna die, because the next thing I knew, I felt…” she shrugs her shoulders, “I don’t know, I felt free, the darkness didn’t look to dark anymore either, and that feeling of being watched? It was gone.”

“It was your brain cell kicking in.” Bakugou jokes, which Mina simply glares as Kaminari and Sero were the only one’s snickering.

“Sorry about that, I was sure it was my day to use it.” Sero joins in, causing Bakugou to even snicker.

“Okay, okay my turn!” Kaminari stands up, shooing Mina from her original seat.

“What? Go tell it from there!” She points from where Kaminari came from, but the blond wasn’t having it, pushing Mina causing her to fall to the side.

“My turn.” He says, plopping himself down while Mina whined about being injured, Kirishima gave her a smile of reassurance before the girl decided to take a seat next to Bakugou and away from the other idiots.

“Kaminari this better not be I thought I was home a lone but guess my mom was there story.” Jirou leans back, arms behind her as she smiles at the blond who only pretends to laugh at Jirou’s joke.

“Very funny, but no, okay, get this guys, I was visiting my gramps on the country side,”

“Oh hell no.” Mina says, shaking her head and throwing her arms cross one another several times.

“What?” Bakugou glances at her, confused.

“That’s where all that real shit is, tell him Kirishima, tell him that’s where the real shit is at.”

“That’s where the real shit is at.” Kirishima confirms, nodding his head in affirmation at Bakugou, and soon after smiling at the blond with a quick wink.

“Well, then buckle up Mina, because you know this shit is about to be even more real.” Kaminari says, looking stupidly serious.

Bakugou then tenses, already feeling the fear from the hype the two were giving it. Fucking shittt.

It was during the summer, so the nights weren’t as cold as they usually were. Crickets and frogs could be heard left and right, yet not one in sight to be seen.

He was a kid, he explains that it was late, but his mother, auntie and cousin had stayed up to talk, play and keep them entertained since they, the kids, were having a hard time sleeping.

“Then out of nowhere, I got hungry,” he laughs, patting his stomach, “And I begged my mom over and over to take me to the kitchen to get some food, since we lived in those separated room homes? Where the bedroom was it’s own building…”

“Like fucking courtyards? Open air yards?” Bakugou comments, not realizing that he’s speaking more often than usual.

“Yeah!” Kaminari smiles in graditide, “Well anyways, my mom told me to shut it but my auntie felt bad for me, and told me she’ll take me. So she picks me up.”

“Wait hold are you?” Sero stops him, creating a curious crowd.

“I was like, uh, probably seven? Six?”

“This could have been a dream!” Mina groans in annoyance, “are you sure this is real?”

“Yes! Yes it’s real!” Kaminari says, irritated now, “guys come on! I didn’t interrupt you Mina!”

Mina hums, asking for forgiveness and as soon as Kaminari accepts, he continues on.

“She was holding on to me, and as soon as we walk into the pathway to the kitchen there was this little thing by one of the walls. Just standing there, looking at us. It had a little ball on his hands, I’m pretty sure it was a football my cousin and I were kicking around earlier that day!”

The creature was hunched, or so says Kaminari, looked at both him and his aunt with a looking spooked like it didn’t expect either of them to come out so late. Before Kaminari could even figure out what he was looking at, his auntie had grabbed a baseball bat, another toy the kids had left around and started swinging it, yelling out words Kaminari couldn’t understand.

The creature then straighten it’s back, looking even more shocked than before, but the ball was still in their hands, holding it tightly, just a moment away from popping from it’s sharp claws.

Kaminari’s badass aunt had started marching towards it, Kaminari’s young brain still not yet comprehending what he was seeing, or even understanding why his aunt was so scared as she started swinging harder and faster.

It seemed like the creature finally got the hint his aunt was gonna beat his ass, as it turned around and started the attempt of climbing what Kamanari said was a concrete wall. The ball was now passed in one of his hands, trying to climb with it, but when it realized it couldn’t he had to let the ball go.

It climbed to the very top, turning back around on it’s fours to look at the two before jumping to the other side.

“After that, I got my snack and we made it back inside no problem, turns out my mom had her own adventures too! Said they found a nasty looking spider, like good thing I wasn’t there! I would’ve passed out!”

“Wait,” Bakugou backtracks, not at all noticing he was holding in a breath before talking, “what the fuck was the thing?”

Kaminari took a second to think before shrugging his shoulders, like it didn’t matter. “I dunno.”

“Dude!” Kirishima pipes up, “how could you be so chill? That’s creepy!”

“Hey man, it was years ago, and I haven’t seen or experienced any weird shit since then!”

“It could have been a hyosube.” Jirou had her phone out, the only light source causing her face to be luminated. “You could be cursed for life buddy.”

Kaminari playfully plays her off, “Come on Jirou, don’t say that.”

“Fucking stupid is what this is, I’m going to sleep.” Two scary stories were enough right? He doesn’t need this shit, and he’s sure if he hears another one of those fucking stories, he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

Kirishima nods in affirmation, “Yeah guys, Imma call it a night too!” he hops up from his seat and trails behind Bakugou.

The remaining four watch the two go, and as soon as they walk into the elevator close, Mina quickly whips her head back to the other three.

“Tots saw how Bakugou was hella tensed right?”

Jirou hums in confirmation, “Dude wouldn’t stop talking, he was totally nervous.”

“Come on guys leave him alone, the dude can’t be all perfect.”

#kiribaku #if you squint #bakusqaud #bakusquad #?#which one is spelled correctly?#Anyways #Bnha drabble #bnha fic #bnha one shot #bnha oneshot #kiribaku oneshot #kiribaku drabble #bakusquad drabble #bakusquad oneshot

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