#cooperate with me here guys don't rush it (it being the chapter as a whole)

[retiredcultistredux]

ESTER DON'T TRUST THAT ANON! They're distracting you so Kirby can take the friend heart back!

Well, Ester definitely noticed now, and he wasn't happy about it in the slightest. He was almost offended--I mean, tricking him into rambling just so he was distracted? So rude.

Ester: "Ok, nah, y'know what? We're doing this my way--"

Without any sort of hesitation, he extended one of his arms out, slashing at the Friend Heart itself, and...

It shattered, causing the light to fade from the puffball's eyes, as well as causing the last bits of his pink color to fade away into a grayscale appearance. He had a blank look on his face, almost as if he was spaced out.

[Kirby is still available for questions, but he's changed into Negative Kirby. He'll still be referred to as 'Kirby' but will no longer be highlighted in pink, instead being highlighted in bold without any added colors.]

[akehoshimystar]

Chapter 7

Chef: One plate...?

Ito: By adjusting the assembly of dishes and the portion size of each item, we can keep the total cost and cooking time down to this bit.

We want our guests to enjoy the taste of the food at this venue.

Chef: Well, I understand what you're saying. But a course meal won’t be complete unless we start with appetizers and end with desserts.

To be honest, I'm not keen on it even if you ask me to only partially cooperate.

Ito: …….

Even the owner agreed. He said, “As long as the chef agrees, there's no problem.” About 10 minutes into our conversation, I found myself breaking out in a cold sweat as the chef kept a stern look on his face.

Chef: I guess my personal feelings mean nothing to you.

Ito: No... I mean, your opinion is very reasonable.

(...This is not going well.)

(As Kosaka-san said, the issue is not about advantage or disadvantage, but about "feelings".)

In this case, there’s a limit to what I can do since we have no trust for each other, not to mention, it's our first meeting.

Ito: (.….From my experience, it is possible to break through situations like this with enthusiasm, sincerity, and passion.)

(Unfortunately, I have a reputation for not being able to convey that kind of thing...!)

Yu: …….

Ito: (...And Nina-san isn't the type to be full of passion either. I guess.)

Chef: Also. They offer free samples at the bridal fair, but now people have to pay for a plate of the same items with even fewer of them.

Ito: It’s just as you said. And that made me wonder if I could consult you about that matter when we proceed with the “arrangement to a plate format.”

Chef: Here we go again with that consultation…

Yu: ……What matters here is that there’s a way to distinguish our food from the course meal that's handed out for free, and produce a sense of satisfaction beyond the amount you serve.

Chef: Huh?

Ito: (Nina-san...?)

Yu: Am I wrong?

Chef: N-Not really...? I guess not.

The chef seemed surprised that Nina-san, who had been silent the whole time, had joined the conversation. Nina-san then continued calmly.

Yu: With this one-plate format, you can include a main dish at its original quality, which you can’t do for the free course.

Or, if there is a new menu that you would like to serve in the future, you can use this chance to experiment.

Either way, distinguishing them is possible.

Chef: !

Ito: (...Woah.)

I felt an invisible change in the flow of conversation. Without rushing, I started talking so as not to miss this godsend chance.

Ito: Since the tastings at the fair are not profitable, the chefs are only able to serve a small amount of their pride and joy meat dish on the plate.

I heard from the owner that he feels frustrated and believes that the meat should be eaten while feeling its usual thickness.

If possible, he would like as many people as possible to try it in its original form.

Chef: The owner really said that…?

Ito: (...Riku-san and the rest of the department taught me the timing of presenting benefits.)

(“Don't miss the moment the other person looks at you”. This is probably what they mean.)

On the day of the event, we will conduct a visitor survey and share the results with you.

We will include multiple items related to your dishes, so please let us know your preferences regarding the content if you wish.

Yu: ………..

Chef: …….. I see.

Well, I'll think about it.

Ito: …..!

Thank you very much.

Chef: It's too early to bow your head. I haven’t agreed yet, whether putting the whole course on one plate will work or not is another matter.

It doesn't change the fact that I can't serve food that I'm not satisfied with. I've heard that you guys will do all the cooking on that day.

If you're going to serve it as an introduction to our cuisine, I need you to maintain a certain level of quality. Can you do that?

Ito: Well….

Yu: I'll borrow your kitchen for a bit.

Chef: Eh? Kitchen? ...Now?

Ito: We’ve already got permission from the owner.

Yu: I'm in charge of cooking, including preparation. Be it skill, finished product, or taste. Please check them.

If you still don’t find me trustworthy enough, just say so.

Chef: I see. It’s good that you’re making this simple.

Now, let's see what you can do.

Ito: (...That was incredible...)

Shortly after…… Nina-san stood in the kitchen and made a sample. Apparently, the chef was completely charmed by his skill. It's still hard to believe that the chef, who had such a grim expression on his face, sent us off with a smile and told us to do our best.

Ito: …………Nina-san. Thank you so much for today.

Yu: I just did what Kosaka told me to. Sit next to Yashiro and listen before having him check out my cooking skills.

Ito: It's not just that... If Nina-san hadn't been there, things wouldn’t have worked out.

Yu: ………

I guess so.

I wasn’t sure whether he really accepted my compliment or just wanted to avoid further conversation. After Nina-san's brief response, silence fell over the car.

Ito: (I'm still not used to event preparation after all, but...)

I realize that it's also a valuable opportunity to talk to people I don't usually have contact with during my regular work. Feeling this new sense of purpose, I squinted my eyes at the sunset that could be seen from the window.

After that, preparations for the dress-up event proceeded smoothly, and the meeting with Kyoka-san’s mother was completed without a hitch. It seems that the "mother-in-law”, Sumire-san, has taken a liking to Aizawa-kun, and that was truly a relief.

The wedding preparation is now in its final stage, and today we came to choose a dress.

Kyoka: ……

Ito: (Everything suits Kyoka-san perfectly, she’s very beautiful... But is it just me or does she seem a bit stiff? She’s kind of gloomy or maybe more like….. anxious?)

Should I ask the staff to bring you some other dresses?

There are many kinds here.

Kyoka: Oh, sure... Thank you.

Ito: .….If you have any concerns or worries, I can lend you an ear.

Kyoka: Eh?

Ito: It doesn't matter if it's something trivial other than the dress. I'll try to resolve it as best as I can.

Kyoka: .…..Thank you.

I know this is not something I should say to Yashiro-san, who has helped me so much...

We’ve already come this far, but I'm a bit worried about my mother.

Ito: .…..Worried?

Kyoka: My mother is truly happy about my “marriage”.

But I've been deceiving her. I realized this again when we met the other day.

I can't stop thinking about whether this is really okay.

Ito: …….

Kyoka: It's always like this for me. I can't say what I need to say when it matters.

Sugio-kun... My ex-boyfriend. That trait of mine is probably the cause of all this.

Ito: (Kyoka-san...)

I failed to find the words to say to the dejected Kyoka-san.

Ito: (Just what should I say?)

Kyoka: Umm...Yashiro-san.

Ito: ...Yes?

Kyoka: Actually, I…..

---Knock knock

Kyoka & Ito: !

Shinobu: Good work. Aizawa is back~

May I come in?

Kyoka: ......Oh! Yes, go ahead.

Ito: ………

While I was wondering what to do for a moment, Kyoka-san wiped her eyes and answered brightly. “It's okay, thank you very much for listening.” Kyoka-san lowered her voice before I got up and unlocked the door. I welcomed Aizawa-kun with hesitation.

Shinobu: I bought some drinks for you.

Ito: Thank you. I’ll have it.

Shinobu: Trying on clothes may be fun and all, but it takes a lot of energy. Let's take a break.

Kyoka: Thank you... Ah!?

Shinobu: Woah.

Ito: !

Kyoka-san's hand slipped. The cup that she failed to pick up fell and the lid came off, spilling coffee all over the table. To make matters worse, there was a bouquet there.

Kyoka: What should I do now? I'm really sorry!

Shinobu: It's okay, it's okay, that should be my line! I should have just left it there.

It didn’t get on Kyoka-san, right?

Kyoka: Uh, yeah. Ah, but the bouquet…

Ito: We have a spare, you don't have to worry.

Kyoka: I'm sorry...

Shinobu: That’s enough apologies. Look, I've already wiped it off! Nothing went wrong. Right, Yashiro-san?

Ito: Exactly as he said.

Kyoka: …….

Ito: I need to make a call. The spare bouquet order was handled by Sei-san, so I'll check with him.

Shinobu: Understood. I’ll take care of her here.

Ito: …….

(.….I couldn't follow up at all.)

(I wonder what she was about to say earlier... Her “it’s okay” didn’t sound okay at all.)

Sei: [Hello, this is Okiya. How can I help you?]

Ito: Hello. I want to talk about the bouquet…

Sei: Oh, what do we have here...?

Don't worry. The other bouquet is scheduled to be delivered to the office the day after tomorrow. 

It should arrive in time for the ceremony without any problems.

Ito: [That's good to hear... Thank you very much. If you hadn't reminded me about a backup at that time, we wouldn't have had it made in time.]

Sei: I'm glad I was of help. By the way...

Anything else you need?

Ito: [Eh?]

Sei: Fufu. You don't show it on your face, or should I say, your voice really can’t hide it... 

You sound like you're worried about something today, that’s what I gathered.

Ito: (My voice gave it away, huh.….I've never been told that, but really? Isn’t it just Sei-san’s special ability...?)

Sei: [That's why I was hoping that our conversation the other day would bear fruits and you would rely on me. Did I get it wrong?]

Ito: The other day... Ah.

“When you're working hard on something, actively choose to rely on those around you.”

I could still hear Sei-san’s voice that I was grateful to receive back then.

Ito: ...Just now. The client just told me that she was unsure whether it was okay to lie to her mother.

And I didn’t know how to respond at all.

Sei: […….]

Ito: I have been wondering about what the best response would have been. 

Sei: [A response to clear up her doubts?]

[You really are kind.]

Ito: I’m not sure if I can call this kindness.

The moment you start thinking about what the right answer is, I don't think it's pure consideration...

Sei: [I beg to differ. No matter what it is about, I think when someone thinks deeply about someone else and worries for them, it can be called kindness.]

[Your client's doubt is also the same.]

Ito: (…………Sei-san.)

Sei: She knows her mother best, that’s why she is in doubt. I don't think that is something to be taken lightly.

After all, this whole fake wedding is no more than a postponement of the problem, and a stopgap measure.

Ito: [Just a temporary solution, huh.....]

Sei: However, I don't think the request was made lightly, and even if the request is withdrawn, her mother's circumstances will not change.

That must have been difficult for her.

Ito: [I know…..]

Sei: But if she doesn't want you to worry for her….

Then, I think there's only one thing we at Aporia can do.

Ito: [One thing?]

Sei: Yes.

She, who has been anxious all this time, decided to lie. For her mother’s sake.

Do your best to provide a “temporary solution” that is necessary for her and her mother.

Ito: …….

Sei: [What is the real joy for her right now? Maybe you should check on her again.]

Ito: (Doing our best to provide a quick fix for someone. That's what Aporia's service is... I see. That's right.)

.….Thank you. My mind is all sorted out now.

I'm not sure if I can say it well, but I'd like to talk a little bit more…

Ito: Aizawa-kun?

Shinobu: Oh, thank goodness you're nearby. Please come back. The fitting is canceled, and we have to be there right away.

Ito: ! Don’t tell me…,

Shinobu: Yes. Shizuka-san just contacted me….

Saying that he had confirmed the movement of the target.

Chapter 8

[tangerinenotions95]

So Much For Normal - A Seth Clearwater FanFic (Chapter 2)

Chapter 3

"I'll see you guys later" I said waving to my parents and rushing out the front door, backpack in tow. I ran up to the silver mini cooper parked in front of my house and hopped in.

"Morning Ness"

"Hey girl" She said smiling at me.

"Okay what is it?" I asked he as we sped down the road towards school. She sighed, "Fine but promise me you won't make a big deal out of it okay?" She asked eyeing me suspiciously.

"Okay I promise" I put my hands up in defeat, "Now tell me what's on your mind bestie" I said to her causing her to shake her head.

"It's kind of my birthday this Friday and my family want to throw me a party much to my objection" She sighed.

I squealed, "Oh my God this is so exciting, you are eighteen right?" I asked her. She nodded, "Yeah" She replied nervously. We were now parked outside of school. She hopped out of the car and started walking and I quickly followed her.

"Don't think you can avoid this topic missy" I told her.

"It's just a birthday" She shrugged.

"Okay well then don't focus on that, focus on the party where you can have all your family and friends together and we can dance and eat and have fun" I told her walking backwards so I could face her. She stopped suddenly looking defeated, "Okay fine but promise me that if at any point I need to escape you and Jacob will help me" She said smiling.

"Deal" I told her.

Later that day we were sitting around the lunch table discussing party details, Nessies aunt Alice was organising it, the only thing we had to take care of was the guest list.

"Just invite the whole school" Rachel stated. We all stared at her, "What?"

"Rachel I'm just about okay with this party without the whole school being there" Nessies stated bewildered by her friends comment.

"She has a point though, it would be easier and chances are word will get out and everyone will just turn up anyway" Casey said shrugging like it was obvious.

"Guys I'm not having a frat party or anything, my whole family will be there like" Nessie pointed out.

"And that smoking boyfriend of your and all his smoking hot friends" Mara said winking, Nessies retaliated by throwing a french fry at her.

"HEY" She squealed laughing.

"First of all they are all taken and secondly you have a boyfriend" Nessie said. "Ryan is not my boyfriend, at least not officially" she said shyly.

"Oh please, you two will be all loved up by Christmas break I could bet on it" Casey said matter of fact causing the whole table to laugh.

"Moral of the story, don't get any ideas about the guys from the rez"

"Surely one of them is single??" Rachel pushed looking hopeful. I can't say I blame her I've met Nessies boyfriend Jacob and some of his friends Quil and Embry. There was no denying that they were good looking guys but they all had that someone special.

"Do you ever think about anything but boys Rachel?" I ask her sarcastically

"Oh rich coming from the girl who has refused every guy that has asked you out since you got here and the list is long" She replied smugly.

I roll my eyes playfully, "I just don't want to waste my time on pointless dates that go nowhere, I want to wait for someone worthwhile that's all".

"Boring" Casey retorted and now I shoved him playfully. "Can we get back to the party now?" I asked focusing my attention back to Renesmee.

"No need, you guys are right I'll just invite everyone and see what happens" She stated laughing at all our shocked faces.

"That's my girl" Casey said high-fiving her.

***

The rest of the week went quickly and the whole school was hyped for Nessies part tonight, except for Nessie of course.

"What if this was a bad idea? What if no one has fun? Or no one even turns up?" She asks me panicking as we walk out of school. I put my arm over her shoulder, "Ness it will be great I promise an if no one shows up then we will still party and I'll throw down some amazing dance moves if it seems like no one is enjoying it so I'll be the talk of the school Monday okay?" I reassure her and managing to make her laugh.

She nods, "Thanks y/n" she gives me a squeeze.

We walk over to the motorbike parked outside of school.

"Hey Jacob" "Hey y/n" She smiles at me and pecks Ness on the forehead.

"Jacob please make sure this one doesn't freak out about the party and I'll see you guys later okay?" He nods, "I'll do my best".

"See you later y/n/n" Ness waves as they both hop on Jakes bike and head out of the school parking lot. I walk over to the jeep I bought a few weeks ago, it was old but it worked like it was new. I hopped in and headed home so I could get ready for the party.

As I drove home I couldn't help wonder what Renesmees family will be like. I don't actually know a lot about the Cullens but according to Casey and Rachel no one really does, all they know is that they are rich and tend to keep to themselves. This seems so odd because Renesmee is so open and bubbly.

I pull up outside my house and head inside, dad is still at work and Clara was in bed because she had been on the night shift and only got home a few hours ago. I made myself something small to eat and went upstairs for a shower.

I dried left my hair in a towel as I done my make up and then let it dry naturally into curls once I was done. I started rooting through my wardrobe for something to wear. Forks is a small town and people dress quite casually around here so I tended to do the same but tonight is a party so I think I can up it a little bit. I settled on an Autumn coloured floral dress with knee high brown boots and an oversized denim jacket. I didn't bother with a bag because everything fit into my pockets.

I headed downstairs where Clara was up and watching the TV.

"Hi Sweetie"

"Hi Clara" I said hiving her a hug, "You look lovely" She beamed, Clara was the closest thing I had to a mum in a long time. My own died when I was six and a few years later dad met Clara.

"Thanks, I'm so excited for this party" I told her, "Do you need a lift?" She asked.

"No I'm okay, I'll drive I don't think it will go on too late anyway" I told her walking towards the door.

"Okay then well have fun and be safe" She told me, "I always am" I reply blowing her a kiss.

I followed the direction Nessie had given me and after following a winding, tree covered road for what seemed like ages I started to hear the loud thudding of music in the distance. I followed it and pulled up in front of what I can only describe as a huge house with a modern finish and wall to floor glass windows. Colourful lights flashed through and I could see that the house was packed full of people. I hopped out and walked towards it, before I had even reached the top step the front door swung open.

"y/n/n you're here" Ness said engulfing me in a hug, she stepped back and I saw two beautiful people standing on either side of her, "Hello" I said shyly not sure if they would hear me over the music.

"y/n, hi it's so nice to finally meet you, I'm Bella and this is Edward, Renesmees parents.

I had to contain my shock as these people did not look old enough to have an eighteen year old daughter, "Ugh It's nice to meet you too" I managed trying to cover myself. Edward studied me for a moment before smiling, "No need for formalities, come on in and enjoy the party" I smiled back at him.

Ness grabbed my hand and pulled me in through the hoard of people, "Welcome to a Cullen party" She told me.

[spencerhotchner]

Alternative {spencer reid}

Chapter 2

summary: Since quarentine was announced, Y/N decided to rewatch all seasons of Criminal Minds. On a lonely night she wished she could be in that universe instead of this. What happens when she wakes up in 2008 in Quantico?

warnings: angst, a very confused reader, regular cm stuff and my grammar (if you find anything else pls lmk) 

word count: 2.1k

a/n: ok, i am really excited about this series. and really thankful that y'all are liking it. also, i hope you will enjoy this chapter as much as y'all did the last one! it didn't end up as long as i wanted it it but ig its ok right.

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2

You could hear some familiar voices on the background as you began to regain conciseness, voices you could identify anywhere. You kept your eye shut for a while, feeling the tiredness and dizziness your body was screaming at you despite the fact that you have been unconscious, and on the floor apparently. Even though you're head was still too slow to think straight, you noticed that your face mask wasn't on you anymore. 

“Who is she?” you heard the familiar voice of Shamar, or Morgan, given the circumstances. 

“Apparently she knows me.” that was Spencer’s turn to speak. 

“I met her this morning.” JJ states, you could only imagine the faces they would be making at her, wondering how and why. “I bumped into her walking on the street, she seemed pretty confused but yet she still knew who I was.” 

“Well, that’s weird.” Emily said.

When you finally decided to open them, you felt like you were still dream. Once again you found yourself asking what was going on. Why was the whole cast of Criminal Minds standing there simple staring at you and why were they acting like their characters? Out of the two explanations that came to your mind at the moment, only one made any sense. I was a tv prank, it could only be. There would be no other logical reason to it, other wise. 

“Are you ok?” Hotch asks, offering a hand. 

You stared at him trying to figure out what to say, but without saying a word you took his hands and got up. The whole team was looking at you, with weird expressions. You felt almost like you were an unsub, you hated being stared. 

“Yes, I mean, no!” you say. “Is this a prank of something? Because, damn, you guys went too far down with it. Fuck!” you say, finally snapping. 

“I’m afraid I don't know what you are talking about.” Rossi said. 

You tried not to but as soon as you realized you already had a big sarcastic expression on your face. How wouldn't they? They were tv stars and they were clearly acting, you've seen it. 

“Oh, you're not?” you said, as sarcastic as you could be. “Ok, let me enlighten you all, since you ‘don’t know what i’m talking about?’. I woke up in this freaking random apartment by myself wearing the exact same thing I was wearing the night before.” 

“...and where is the part we fit in there?” he replies. 

You ignored him, sighing and trying to push your anxiety down. 

“As I was saying, I was wearing the exact same thing and I was in Bellevue, in Washington state. I have no idea who decided to pull this off but as much as I love the show, I am not enjoying this.” you say, looking around trying to find cameras. 

They all kept staring at you, Rossi was the only one who didn't seem worried about, it was like he thought you were on drugs or just delusional. You were even starting to believe in that. JJ and Spencer kept staring at each other, possibly trying to figure out what was going on, and how you knew them. 

“You believe you were abducted, then?” Hotch finally says something. 

You sigh again, trying to be patience. All you wanted was to go home, when you said you wanted to meet the cast - all the hundreds of times you said it, you didn’t mean this. You closed your eyes, because suddenly all you wanted to do was cry. You couldn't count how many times you imagined this happening and it was being just awful. You hated being confused, lost and being pictured as crazy. 

“No, Agent Hotchner” you spilled his name, sarcastically. “I am sure.”

He looked at you without much expression - as usual, but you could tell he was superseded you knew him, just as much as the team. Morgan step forward, walking towards you. You stared at him, trying to remain calm. 

“Listen, we can't help you if you don't let us.” he said. “Can you tell us your name?”

God, don't they realize this is funny? I do not wanna be acting, some pictures would do the job just as fine. 

“Y/N Y/L/N” you say as you watch Rossi give Garcia a look making her nod and direct herself to her ‘cave’, certainly to search you up. 

“Alright, you have someone we can contact with?” JJ asks. 

You nodded, yes you did. But they wouldn't pick up the phone, as you tried multiple times this morning on the old cellphone. What if something happened to them? This was all so confusing. 

“But she won’t pick up the phone, I tried.” you said.

Once again, you caught yourself wondering what was going on. And that was the moment you kind of got what was happening. Would it be possible that you shifted to this universe? Maybe this wasn't all a prank and your wish had just became true. You probably should've thought about it before asking for it. At once it hit you, what you said to your friend just last night. 

“What is something you would want to do right now?” your best friend asked you, leaning a bit towards you, laughing drunkly.

“Um, I’d really like to be in Criminal Minds right now.” you say laughing as you best friend rolled her eyes. “No, listen! I’d love to meet Spencer Reid and I don't know, it just sounds better than quarantine.”

“Yeah, sure, because serial killers are just not bad at all, huh?” she laughed. 

Maybe this was true, maybe you did shifted. And if you did, you sure sounded like a crazy person, and probably a stalker. You looked around trying to figure out if you could sit somewhere, it all became took much for you mind at that moment. 

“Can I sit... Can I sit somewhere?” you asked, probably looking as ill as you sounded.

You watched as Reid rushed to bring the chair. You set down trying to figure out how you'd leave there, and how you'd shift back. Staring at them you felt your heart warm a little, you dreamed about this for so long - as it was all it was, a dream, until now, at least. 

Before you could say a word you watched Penelope come back and whisper in Rossi’s ear, probably what she found out about you. Which, maybe was everything, since you had no reasons to hide a thing about your life, which was quite boring, in fact. 

“Who are you?” Rossi says, like he’s ready to arrest you.

“I-I already told you.” you answer. “I’m Y/N.”

If you needed any proof about what was going on that was it. It was like you did not even exist, like you weren't real. She probably didn’t find anything because you’re not from this universe.

“Alright. What can we do for you, Y/N?” Morgan asks.

“I need to go home.” you let it out. “I don't know how I ended up here in Quantico.”

Garcia stares ate you, almost like she felt pity about your situation while the rest of them kept a suspicious look at you. It’s not like you blame them, anyways, you would think it’s weird for somebody to come out of nowhere knowing your name and claiming to be pranked. 

While you were sitting there, with all those eyes at you, you thought that maybe giving up and trying to figure it all out by yourself maybe would be better. How would they help you, anyways? It is not like they could send you back. And it is also not like you didn't actually wish for this. 

There are some wishes that are entirely rhetorical. 

“You know what? I’m good.” you fake a smile, obviously. “I’m just gonna go.” 

You stoop up fast, not giving them much time to contest you. Spencer looked confused, more than any of the others, for some reason. Maybe he was just curious on how you knew him, or JJ. Either way, you wouldn't know. 

Hotch looked at you, wondering your action. Why were you so desperate at one time and tried to pull off as if it was ok? It was definitely not ok. Your smile looked fake, your body seemed tense and your eyes looked as lost as he could think someone could be, as he has seen a lot of lost eyes. 

“Thank you, for your attention, though.” you say. “I’m sorry for taking your time agents.” 

You stormed out of there, not even realizing that you left your jacket in there. How could you? Not when you ran out of there as if your live depended on it. You let a sigh out as you got out of the building, not even noticing when the tears started to come down at your cheeks. 

At that moment you didn't care at all about where you were, you set on the floor, letting the tears roll down and the sobs come out. You never wished to be away from your reality, it only seemed nice in your dreams. Right now, all you wanted was to go home and hug your parents, or even just see them. You felt lost, as lost as a five year old who can't find his mommy at the park. 

You got scared as you felt a big hand touch your shoulders. As your turn, to see who was it, Spencer looked as nice as you could ever picture him to, or see on the screens. His face resembles worry, like he was actually wondering what happened to you and why where you there. 

“I believe this is yours.” he hands you your jacket. 

You stare at him before.

“Yes, thank you.” you wipe the tears away. 

“No- No problem.” he said, sitting by your side. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” you answered looking away. 

“You don't have to lie to me.” he said, as you looked back at him. “I wanna help you, but I can only do that if you cooperate with me.”

Why would he?

“I don't know where I am. I mean, I do know but I don't know how I ended up here. I understand what is going on, I did after a while but I don't know how to change this situation. I don't know how to go back home.” you said. 

Not like he’ll understand, anyways.

"Maybe... Maybe me and my team could help you figure it out?” he tries. 

“I doubt it.” you shake your shoulders. “I know that you guys are awesome at your job, don't get me wrong, to be honest I’m quite the big fan.” you laughed a bit. “But it’s just out of hand.” 

He stops, looking at you. Gave up offering help, you were not accepting he felt it. No, he knew it. It was his job to know what body language was telling him, anyways. He didn't want to stare at you, but he felt like he needed to. He was stuck at your looks, so pretty, yet so lost. 

“If we can't help you, is there anything I can do for you?” he asks. 

You looked right into his eyes. Thinking, if you should say it. Maybe so, it wouldn't kill you, it was not like it was the real world of something, well maybe it was but you couldn't care less. All you wanted was somewhere to stay this night and figure out how to get back.

“I do need a place to stay tonight.” you say, smiling little at him. 

He had a weird look on his face when you said that, like he wasn't expecting it. Because he wasn't. That moment he considered himself a crazy man, because he knew the risks and yet was up for it.

“Uh, ok.” 

Taglist: @feverdreamreid @andromedasstarship @paulaern @theetherealbloom @thatsonezesty13 @reidsalvez​ @pieceofreid @nymeria-targaryen​ @greeny-kitten​ @peppermintnight @notebookgirl30​ @2sarvinem @holding-on-to-my-youth​ @mggsprettygirl​ @iifloweringnightsii​ @iidontgiveafuckuniverse​ @mcntsee​

[dyker-farmer]

Ok this was supposed to be a quick draw and a description to go with, that blew into a full chapter and now it's also on Ao3 SO happy reading ig idk

I never see Shane works that don't go all in for romance nor explore the more realistic ugly parts of recovery, and I kind of crave That TM. So let me have at it too with the self-insert whump mumbo jumbo; no romo version.

Set post-8 hearts event, Farmer Uidelsib is two years or so in, full house built and married to Emily. They/them pronouns, same as me.

Diverges from then on, Shane-centric from an outside POV for the most part.

[[MORE]]

Take that can away if you can.

Gulp it down. Chapter 1/2/3/4

There's a few to-know to survive life in society, in the valley; there's no good way to comment on the age nor weight of both resident housewives, you can't say no to Evelyn's homemade cookies- and why would you, you fool-, you do not fight at the Saloon or you'll get no cheese anymore on your pizza and only sparkling water for drinks, and-

And you don't mess with Shane's alcohol related ritual.

Except I did, that night, because you do that, when your two-years long friendship with the guy taught you better than letting his impulses overcome yours, when your buddy is trying to recover from teenage long-lasting into early adulthood, trauma-enhanced heavy addiction, and you know, you know tomorrow he'll feel like absolute shit and question his right to therapy the moment he'll stop his pounding skull from splitting. Wonders what a three-dosage paracetamol can do. 

At least he doesn't drink it out anymore.

So yeah, when you're in my shoes, you get that Joja store-bought crap out of Shane's hand, and you brace yourself for the incoming lash out.

The first fractions of seconds are always those to look closely into most. It's only a glimpse, but before the scowl slips on like a well-worn boxing glove ready to strike, there is always this open page I learned I needed to decipher as quick as I could.

Tonight, it's heartbreaking. When I peck his forehead- doting big sibling habits die hard, even when you're actually the youngest of the pair- the eyes I catch looking at me are so confused and bare of any emotion, except for the sorrow that goes beer-soaked tears, it pangs. I get used to the breakdowns, working in the fields I do when I'm off the farm's, but it's not the same when it's a friend.

When I straighten back, offensive beverage in hand, it's already gone in a flinch, away from the empty space behind the chair and onto the table, as he snarls.

"Wha- giv'me back- 's mine!" I don't know how much he drunk before he met up with me, but from the slurring, it's a Lot. A season and a half into sobriety. That's harsh.

I ignore him and walk behind him, pondering where to put the beer for now.

"Y-you can't just do that! It's my booze I got with m'money, not some- who d'you think you are?-" He sputters indignantly, angry tears fewer than the sad ones but still there. He tries to turn around and grab behind his back, but the wild movement is way off and only gets the chair to nearly topples down. I rush in time to stabilize it, and profit off the moment to set a strong hand on his shoulder.

"I can just do that, 'cus it's my house I got with my money, and I think I'm your pal who knows when you've had enough. Dude, I trust you to be an adult, but minutes before, you were already so torched I had to keep your neck upright so you didn't faceplant into the table, and you nearly just kissed my floor good evening. Not to mention you clung to my arms the whole way from the little entry stairs to the kitchen because, quoting, 'If I don't I'll fall in the hole and won't get up'."

I turn to the fridge again, going to open it, before I think better of it. Likely enough, we'll both forget it was there in the first place, it'll stink up my fridge- it's Joja's- and it'll be money out of Shane's pocket for nothing. I set it on the counter, with the rest of the pack. He'll put it to cool down when he's back to Marnie's. Or he won't, probably. 

That's not a worry for now.

When I caught up with him, it was a few feet below my doorstep; he'd probably slipped up trying to climb the three steps up to it, and settled for it. He was nursing that same can, muttering to himself, head down, curled up on himself. Except for that leg sticked out, he probably hurt it when he fell, I'll have to look at that and work on it if it's too swollen. Hopefully that'll spare us from a visit to Harvey's.

Bad memories. Not mine, and it's warm and not raining outside, but. Déjà-vu.

Anyways, he looked the picture of "help I've fallen and I can't get up- and even if I can I won't because Fuck You", and it's been a hassle to have him cooperate. But when I asked if he wanted to leave, he shook his head with a fervor no somnolent drunk should have. That resulted in a lovely streak of vomit down the wall right next to the door. That's also for later. If Eryza doesn't lap it up. Ew. This cat's never predictable.

Now, he's staring at his hands, sitting at my table, contemplating something too far down for me to see- or maybe just zoning out with a sleeping brain. Then he mumbles. "Sorry."

I get back to the table and sit at arm's length across of him. "Nah, 's okay. I don't mind being a helping hand or touchy-feely, must be the frog-eater in me. Not for the helping part." I'd chuckle but my quip falls on deaf ears.

I go to put my hand over his. When he doesn't blink at it, I try and shake a reply out of him, gently. He startles and hawkeyes our joined fingers. When he's finally looking at me, I raise a single eyebrow. He doesn't say anything, but when he pulls back his arm, I let him. We both straighten up, and it's hard to keep up the eye contact.

"So…" There's a heavy air on us. Suddenly, like the last year didn't happen, we're sitting a stride away of each other, and yet it feels like he's all the way back to the forest, looking down at waves.

"Do you want me to do something?" I bend myself a little closer to him, not moving otherwise.

He puts his head in his hands, shivering. Can't tell if it's the AC or his system kicking the alcohol out, or itself, in stress. I think I hear something, but it might as just be his shuddering breath.

"Shane" I insist, voice level, not pressing. "I need words. I want to help, I truly don't mind, but I need words to know what to do." He's never shown signs of going nonverbal before. If he does, I'll improvise. Until then… I need words.

Time ticks slowly as we wait. Then, with great effort and deep fatigue, he drags his palms up from under his nose to his temple, spreading some snot and wet tears across his face from his scrunched shut eyes. Lips trembling but finally showing, that attempt to let out a sound that's not too garbled. He coughs, sniffles a bit, breathe in again, sounding like a sick dog, and blows through gritted teeth before his jaws go slack. Eyes still closed, he whispers, and I have to lower myself some more toward his crouched form to catch it.

"Can I get something to drink…?" His voice is hoarse.

The demand could be comical, if we were into sour humor. And we usually are. But right now, we're not finding the joke in the lines. I stand silently, and as I walk to the fridge again, I let my hand brush his shoulder- same spot as before.

I take a minute to choose, look into the pantry. When I'm back at the table with my items of choice, he's still sitting there, his cheek is cushioned on his arms, face hidden from view. His shoulder, except for the occasional tremor, rise and fall in rythm with his snores. Breaks my heart to interrupt that, but not really. Hangovers are mean bitches with the sharpest nail art on the blackest of boards.

"Psst, dude. C'mon." I rustle his hair backward. He hates when I do that, says it tickles, and it makes him sneeze. So I obligatory do it once a day if I can. Let's say today's my late quota for the last four days I haven't seen him.

He gruffly tells me to kindly refrain from such pleasantries, and raise bleary eyes back up at the table. I can also guess he tried to bat a hand at me, but his coordination is off and he slaps himself lightly on the ear. Then he glares bewildered at his hand for a few seconds, obviously insulted. I profit of this moment to grab a small basin from under the sink, on second thought.

When he brings his attention back to me, I'm sitting again. Between us, a jug of fresh milk from this morning, a small sack of peppers, and a juice carafe sit aside a green glass bottle. There's also some bread, mostly for me to munch on. Because, hmmm dough. He squints at it all, especially at the bottle. Probably trying to read the label.

"Yeah no, didn't get you one of my best wine, not sorry."

"Hot pepper… juice?" He looks at the actual peppers next to it. "With actual peppers?" And then I get the squint too.

"Hmph, I know you like your elongated hell tomatoes, man, what can i say."

At that, a feeble snort.

I decide that it is the highlight victory of my soirée.

"Welp, have at it." I gesture to the half-liter liquor glass right by his left.

He fumbles with the drinks and some splashes around, but I lay back on my chair, arms crossed, letting him do his thing. While I don't hold back from growing downright doting on him when I got to- or even when I don't- I don't see how more devotion right now would be not smothering. He can break my fancy glass cups if he wants and spill my milk, so long he doesn't cut himself or cry over it.

Now, you could be thinking that plain water would have done the trick just fine, if not better, in rehydrating him. Here's the thing, though; going from booze to tasteless liquid, for Shane, that's a sure way to puking his heart out. And I'd rather not have us deal with an acid bile throat burn on top of near alcohol poisoning. Sorry to not spare you the squeamish details, but his oesophagus is pretty sensitive ever since that stomach pumping back at the clinic. Hot fiery hell fruits he can do just fine, with relative moderation and hydratation- hence the milk and juice- but liquor bursting its way back from his guts? Nuh uh. 

It had taken lots of coaxing, but he'd explained the plain tastes, or lackthereof, were very hard for him to deal with, especially when contrasting with strong ones like beers and whiskeys. I'd shackle it to gustative hypostimulation, but I don't know enough about him that way to say. He'd said sparkling water was a good compromise.

But I don't have sparkling water, because I do not like suffering.

I might buy a pack for when he visits though.

And I do know a handful about him already. Shackle that to perceptiveness and a stubborn streak on top of a year and so long camaraderie.

And having a certain uncontrollable fear of failing to act quick the next time coped with by accumulating information and patterns compulsively.

I shake my head to focus on the present again. He's switched from juices to soaking bread in milk to eat it small portion after small portion. He pauses in mid-bite when he catches me staring. He's still hunched on himself and red-faced and a tad bloated. His cheeks are drying and he's blown his nose. I smile calmly. Worst of the storm passed, unless I screw up and blow it.

"Ywou wan' chom'?" He offers a dripping piece of bread. In moments like this, when he's sobering but not quite, the resemblance with Jas are unmistakable. The glint in his reddened eyes that open wide, and his blank-but-not-quite wondering expression, it's all here to paint a scrutinizing but vulnerable picture of tired but bright minds.

"Nah thanks. You done with that milk?"

"...Sure." He eyes it, wary. He knows where this is going, and he doesn't like it. I take the drink off the table, and his gaze follows my movement until I bring it to my lips.

He frowns. A silent warning. 

And as I lock onto him with a dead stare, not blinking a millisecond, I down the rest of the 2 liters jug in three, five gulps. I even take the time to lick my new mustache away, and close my mouth with a click of my tongue.

His expression is the macabre marriage of beffudled horror and pure affliction, disgust if you will. The face of someone who doesn't hate milk, but has grown out of it enough to not be able to live off the stuff like the brave souls I'm apart of. And probably with reason, as I actually can't, like most 20+ years old, digest the liquid in large amount. But I smile like a smug cat, perfectly content.

Cats really can't digest milk once adults, it's all social mythos.

We silently judge and fuck with each other like that for a while more, as more time passes, until the room's elephant gets it all humid with its prancing around. Enough that tears and nervous sweats start again, for no apparent reasons but the residual anxiety from the whole chain of events that led to this.

"I think we should talk about this."

--- to be continued.

[bughead-ficz]

Don't Touch Her//Bughead Fanfiction (C5)

Chapter 5- Pools Of Red ☾☾☾ Red was all he could see. Pools and pools of deep red. The threatening colour dripped down, swimming around in his mind. After Jughead joined the Serpents, he was relieved. Sure, he was overcome with many emotions when he first put on that leather jacket. Was he good enough? Would he be dragged into the illegal sides of the Serpents? Would Betty accept him? But those thoughts were drowned out by an involuntary smile plastered onto his olive-coloured face. Jughead Jones was a Serpent. He'd been accepted, for once in his life. He was happy. But most of all relieved. Now, he had a whole new family who had his back, would protect him from future threats and would protect Betty from future threats. All the Serpents were fond of blonde-haired, sun kissed skin, green-eyed Betty Cooper for a variety of reasons. Firstly, most of the older generation Serpents had watched her grow up with Jughead. A few of them even recalled the time where FP had told them about when younger Jughead had rushed home from school, eager to tell the story of the little girl, Betty Cooper. Jughead had told FP all about how the blonde girl had given him a black crayon when his own had broken. The older Serpent's hearts had melted for a split second, forgetting all about their manliness. Even FP found himself proud of Alice Cooper's youngest. Speaking of Alice, she was the second reason. FP and Alice had a fling in the past, and she'd even been a committed Serpent. Until one day, months after FP and Alice had broken up, she turned up pregnant with Hal's child. She was forced to leave the Serpents. The child was never born and they all never found out why, but now Alice was gone, had a new posh persona and was trapped with Hal. All the Serpents saw her as a close sister back when she was in the gang, all except FP. He soon moved on after he met Gladys, Jughead and Jellybean's mother. However the middle-aged man always had a soft spot for her like the rest of the Serpents. And they all especially liked the two girls she'd birthed. Thirdly, the Serpents view on Betty's persona amplified massively when Jughead introduced them to her face to face. She had a certain warmth that glowed and radiated to everyone in the room. Her smile made them feel at home, like they could trust her with anything and they wouldn't be judged. They loved how she didn't judge them. Most Riverdale snobs would run a mile from the members, turning up their noses or getting scared that they'd be beaten up. But not Betty. She wasn't a snob like most of those other folk, she recognised them for what they were. Human. The Serpents were by no means a group of angels. There were some truly dangerous men and deals that occurred within the gang, but they wouldn't hurt their own. Jughead was FP's son. Betty was Jug's girlfriend, and Alice's daughter. But even so, it was highly unlikely the Serpents would hurt someone like her anyway. No matter how protective the Serpents were of Betty, no one was as protective as Jughead. Which is why he honestly and truly wanted to murder Chuck Clayton in this moment. She didn't want him to find out. She really didn't. But the telltale yellow and purple bruises on her shoulders wanted something entirely different. "Betty, what the hell are these?" Jughead and Betty had been spooning in his bed about to go to sleep until the black-haired boy had spotted the bruises beneath the straps of her pyjama top. He slightly brushed one with his pointer finger just to pull away when Betty flinched and gasped in pain. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you Juggie." She whispered after she revealed the whole ordeal. "I'm going to kill him. I'll get the Serpents on him." Jughead coldly stated, anger bubbling up in his stomach, his chest began puffing. "No!" Betty quickly interjected. "Don't, please. Just leave it." She placed her hands on his hot cheeks. "How can I leave it Betty? He hurt you! He - he touched you!" Jughead's eyes were dark as they pierced into hers. But she wasn't scared, she felt protected. However, she didn't need him beating up Chuck and risk him getting excluded from school or arrested by Keller. "Not really, Jug." She spoke quickly, clearly uncomfortable, "he only touched my leg, okay? I got away before he did anything." "This is all my fault." He grimaced. "I was the one who got you to walk over here, I punched him at the party. I got him angry." But Betty quickly shook her head after visably cringing at the mention of the partt, then pulled him into a hug. "This is because of Chuck being a jerk. Not you." Her arms were wrapped above his shoulders, his territorially around her waist. "Just promise you won't do anything stupid. Leave it or you'll make it worse." She whispered into his ear. He didn't say anything for a few seconds. "Juggie, promise me." She pleaded, pulling away and looking into his eyes. They softened. "Fine." He whispered. But Jughead wouldn't forget what Chuck did this easily. He had to pay. And this redness that was coating his pupils were sure going to help him with that. ☾ The sun glistened through a crack in the curtains, warming the whole room. The rays kissed Betty's skin as she woke from her graceful slumber. She smiled as her eyes opened, but the peace disappeared when she realised a missing element. Jughead was gone. Panic struck her core as she quickly sat up. "Jughead?!" She yelled out. She ran around the whole trailer. Where was he? The bathroom? No. The kitchen, the living room? No. Outside? No. Oh no. Betty automatically knew his absence was about the Chuck predicament. She was utterly angry as she left him message after message on his phone. However there was a side that feared. How was he going to approach this black cloud of a situation? And she knew no matter what he was doing it would just make it worse. If he just left it alone, no doubt Chuck would get bored of his little game and move on to some other poor girl. Her phone started ringing, dragging her from her thoughts. Jughead's name flashed over the screen and she pressed the answer button quicker than a fox. "Jughead where the hell are you?!" She impatiently questioned. He sighed from the other end, making her see red. "Listen, Betty. Chuck he-" the fuming blonde cut him off. "No! You listen to me! Whatever you've done will just make him ten times worse, okay? Do you not get that? He'll get bored and move onto some other girl. Or he'll just get bored!" She yelled, the redness taking over. "Look, Betts I'm sorry but he can't get away with doing that to you. I told some of the younger Serpent guys and they went to deal with it-" Jughead was cut off once again. "Oh my God, Jughead. Do you not realise what you've done? Chuck has friends too! You know, his ex teammates? Oh and remember who used to be on that same team? Jason Blossom." "Betty-" "Jason and Chuck were really close. Buds. I remember the stories Polly would tell me about those two. If anything happens to Chuck... Chuck and Jason knew people too. It was more than a friendship. And those people can hire anyone, okay? The Blossoms were loaded! Not to mention they probably gained lots with Mr Blossom's life insurance. And... you promised me." Her voice cracked in the last sentence, and it was almost as if she could imagine him softening in regret at her speech. "I'm- I'm sorry Betts." Jughead whispered into the phone. "I'll come home and we can talk-" "No," she sniffled. "I'm going home. To my home. You broke you're promise, Jug. I need some time." The broken blonde hung up the phone before hearing Jughead's desperate words. "No, wait Betty! It's not safe." But she had hung up. Little did she know that it really, truly wasn't safe. A few of the Serpents, Jughead's age had gone to sort Chuck out. But when they found him, they were surrounded by frat boys. Most of them didn't even look like they were from Riverdale. The Serpent boys had gotten back to Jughead with black eyes and sore ribs. The amount of guys there were totally disregarded the toughness of the Serpents. And now Betty would be walking straight past them on her way home. By the fifth missed call Betty received from Jughead, she melted. She couldn't stay angry with him, after all, he'd just tried to protect her, even if he did break his promise. So she answered the sixth. "Hi Jug." She answered, slightly melancholily. Her eyes darted around her, taking in the satisfying nature. Peacefully, she walked past the path down the side of the woods. Strangely, she wasn't bothered by it. She would think that she might have been scared considering Chuck attacked her in the same woods, but she wasn't. This was a bit odd. "Betty. Where are you?" Jughead questioned hurriedly. Betty frowned, confused. "I told you I was going home?" She replied, dumbfounded. "I know but where are you? Are you home already?" Betty scoffed, uncharacteristically. "No, I'm next to the woods outside of school. What's with the interrogation?" Crap. The Serpent teenagers had found Chuck and his gang outside of the school. "Listen, just walk back the way you came okay? I'm gonna walk to you. Hurry." She could hear him moving over the other end. Rattling noises and clatters almost overbearing his voice. "Why? I need to get home Jug." She looked up, squinting her eyes in the dimly lit area. The moon shone brightly, glimmering off of her iridescent eyes. "Because Betts. When the boys went to find Chuck he was near the school and with all these other guys and they got beat up. They're probably still there." He rushed out, his panting a sign that he was jogging. The phone on Betty's end was quiet. "I know." She finally spoke up. Jughead frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? You know they beat my guys up?" He heard her swallow and let out a shaky breath. Something. Was. Wrong. "I know they're at the school because I can see them." She whispered. Jughead's eyes widened as he realised what could happen if they saw her. It would be his fault too. "Listen Betts just slowly back away down the street, I'm coming." He picked up his pace. "I can't- they can see me. They're coming over here!" She whispered frantically. Jughead desperately sprinted, his lungs in great pain and his legs screaming to stop, but he didn't care. He needed to get to Betty. He needed to protect her from them. "Betty, just run!" He yelled, exasperatedly. Then he heard low cheering in the background and Chuck's intimidating, stereotypical voice. Then the phone went dead. Jughead knew that up ahead, there would be lots and lots of pools of red.