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silverrstarrr · 4 years

Text

Sorry for such the big delay for chapter 2! Since this took some time, I made this chapter longer. As I said before: please be nice, this is my first fanfic. I would LOOOVEEE feedback or even tips to better my writing. I made a little playlist for you guys can listen to while reading. Please enjoy!

○Part lll- crumb

●Recently played- crumb

○Big sis- SALES

●Ghost-Machine girl(I'll put an ◇ when to play this song)

꒰ Nails ꒱ؘ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Chapter 2:

「6:30pm」

Horns honking left and right, men in suits exiting the train. Women sitting on benches holding their phones with their shoulder–typing away on a laptop. High school girls walking around in groups, giggling and smiling at one another. Obviously they were having a good conversations. Tourists and visitors checking out pastry displays, hands on their chins- undecided on what to get.'Tokyo sure is busy, huh.' Y/n said to herself.

Y/n was currently strolling throughout the streets, glancing every now and then at food restaurants— trying to see what she was in the mood for. Tapping her phone screen once again, she checked the time. In a thin helvetica font, the numbers "3:25" were written along with the words "pm" right next to it in a smaller font size. Dropping her hands down, her arms drooping right along- a sigh left her lips. She's been walking around for 15 minutes and still couldn't find what she wanted to eat. She stopped by a bakery, checking out what they had to offer, didn't really liked what she saw and left. Then went to a classic sushi restaurant— that also served Ramen. Once again, she turned her head and walked out of door. From there, she just began going back and forth through restaurants— which leads her to right now. She went deeper into the city, wandering further away from the school's location. To be honest, the whole mission even slipped her mind- she had a new job now: finding where the fuck to eat. Being really the indecisive person she was, this whole thing took another hour. Yeah...a whole HOUR.

┆

At last, the woman was finally making her to an empty table carrying a black tray, filled with her meal order. Placing her order on the beautiful round tan wooden table, she pulls out the chair tucked under—sitting herself down. Y/n glanced down at her food and honestly, it looked good as hell. Kinda reminded her of how those anime food gifs looked like that you search up on Google. What was her food choice? Well, it was Ramen:

I know, I know- early she said she wasn't in the mood for Ramen but shut up! People can change and y/n's appetite craving sure did.

Picking up the pair of wooden chopsticks with her right, slowly watching as the steam from the noodles rised up only to disappear within the air—y/n began to eat her meal. Grasping the thin long lines of unleavened wheat dough between her chopsticks, she silently blew on before placing them into her mouth. Using her left hand, she grabbed the chirirenge—dipping it into the bowl, scooping up a spoonful of the well seasoned broth. Y/n brought her left to her lips and slowly drunk the liquid. She continued eating, placing the tender mushrooms into her mouth, savoring the flavor. Taking more sips of the broth with her chirirenge, her right hand going to her bowl again to grab a piece of sliced meat then taking another chomp. She was enjoying this a little more than she should but so what? She deserved it. Still, time was going by pretty fast actually and she still yet to remember her mission.

┆

Three hours have now passed since "3:25pm". Y/n was now finishing up her glass of water, as a waitress came to pick up the empty bowl along with the tray. Grabbing her phone, she made her way out of the door. It was now 6pm. It was less crowded now, but since it wasn't dark yet, people were still around checking out the city. It was the beginning of summer after all.

Y/n was now walking down the streets of Tokyo, before she head back—she wanted to stop by the convenience store to get a few things. Taking a sharp turn to the left, then pushing through a sea full of people— she made it to her destination. The convenience store. At this moment, y/n was ready to take in on her indulges of just buying snacks like crazy. She barley had enough time to eat a proper meal because of her crazy schedule, so she always just ate a quick snack to pass her hunger over to complete her mission.

◇

Placing her hand on the door's handle, pushing it forward and stepped into the store. She stood there in awe for a few seconds until a small smirk appeared on her lips, she was now in her snack buying heaven. Automatically going towards the back of the store, she grabs herself a few drinks. Next, she went to an aisle and grabbed a few packets of candy. Moving onto the next aisle, where all the chips, cookies, instant Ramen,(etc) were at—y/n just stood there. She had such a wide variety to choose from but first she grabbed a couple of her favorite cup Ramen and her cookies as well. Now, what type of chips did she want? When it came down to these, y/n always liked to look at the flavors and see if there were any new ones. And if they were? Well she'll try them. Shrugging her shoulder, she went up and grabbed a few of the ones she always ate then a few of the new flavors. It was now time to check out, she had enough snacks to last her a decent month or two. Carrying all of her items to the front counter, she casually dropped them as the cashier began scanning. Y/n stood there looking at the small monitor, watching as the numbers went up after every beep—she hoped that she'll be able to pay for everything.

The cashier placed all of her food items into white plastic bags and placed them on the counter.

"Your total is ¥2664.19." The worker said. ($25.19 in USD)

Immediately, she goes into her pocket and pulls out the cash needed to pay. She hands it to the cashier and grabs the white bags resting on the countertop. A 'Thank you' leaving the person's lips as y/n nodded her head and walked out the store. Now it was time to head back! Today was a victory. She got to wander around Tokyo, Eat a decent meal, and not to mention got snacks. Y/n smiled to herself and pulled out her phone. Since she had snacks, she was gonna shoot Megumi a message to see if he was willing to eat some with her. Maybe they could find a good sho–wait a minute. At this moment, she froze. Megumi? Letting out a gasp with a surprised expression, she came to realization.

"OH SHIT, I FORGOT ABOUT THE MISSION."

In less than a second, y/n was on her feet, dashing down the street. she was pretty fast, considering she was a Sorcerer and running was a common thing.

Unlocking her phone with her thumb, she went to her contacts and immediately called her partner.

"please, please, please... pick up." She said to herself. Even though she knew he was a Sorcerer and could handle himself, her gut told her something wasn't right and this threw her into a panic.

"The phone number you are trying to re-"

It was no use, he wasn't picking up. How would she know where he was? He could be anywhere—they spilt up to look for the finger, to see if it was in a different location. So many thoughts were running through her head, she didn't even know where she was heading to. The only thing she could think of was her friend's safety.

She finally came down to a decision to first check the school. If he wasn't there, she wasn't sure what she'll do but she'll leave things up to future her. Making a sharp turn to the right, she went into an alley way. Jumping on top of trash can, y/n used this as little boost to pull herself up to a building's rooftop. Since she spent so much time doodling off, it was now dark. Which was a good thing—so people wouldn't see her leaping from building to building. It would be weird as hell if they did.

Going through hellish missions of fighting curses did pay off. She had agility and was able to pass over buildings with ease, swiftly taking a right turn—next a left as she went further down. Pushing her foot upwards off of the concrete roof, she leaped into the air, grabbing onto a branch from a tree. She then released her grip and landed on the sidewalk, proceeding to sprint towards the school.

┆

At last, she was at the school's gates. Instinctively, her eyes began examining the area. Checking the ground, she saw a few broken shards of glass, this must have meant something happened. Y/n looked up and her heart almost dropped into her stomach. There were multiple broken windows and she felt lingering curse energy oozing out from the school. Without wasting anymore time, the woman ran into the school. Busting through the doors, she swiftly headed to the staircase and started ascending the steps with speed.

┆

Seeing that there were nobody on each floor, her last step was the school's roof.

Making it to the last set of stairs, y/n prepared herself—she took into caution of a cursed being present. Gathering and focusing on her curse energy, she was ready to take on the curse at any moment. Steadily, she made her way up steps and pulled the roof's door open. To her surprise, it was nothing was she intended it to be.

On his knees, completely worn-out, covered in injuries head to toe, uniform in a mess, and the obvious bleeding from his head. She knew it, Megumi was hurt.

Immediately, dropping her plastic bags, she rushed over to him- completely ignoring her sensei. Lowering herself down to his level, and before she could speak- her friend did.

"I'm fine, no need to worry." He said with his eyes closed, looking away from her direction. He wasn't fine, he was holding his torso—blood was dripping down from his hand. Y/n blamed herself deeply, it was her fault that he was in such a state. Grabing his right arm, she slung it over her neck as it rested on her shoulder. She then slider her left arm around his waist to help him back on his feet. Megumi wanted to protest but he knew thay she wasn't planning on letting him go. Now they were both on their feet, she finally looked up and noticed a tall man with a stupid blindfold—Gojo Satoru, their teacher. She didn't only notice him but a shirtless boy hanging over his shoulder? He had pink hair with a black undercut, she swear she saw him before but couldn't put her finger on it.

"Aww! Y/n you missed it!" Gojo said with a pouty voice in attempt to sound like an innocent school girl.

"Miss what?" She responded.

"Nothing." Megumi spat out in an annoyed tone.

Gojo was opening his mouth to speak again but y/n cut off him.

"Who's that?" Y/n was looking at the boy who was knocked tf out on Gojo's shoulder. Her sensei only hummed in response, this irritated her because he didn't answer her question. Megumi noticed this and sighed,

"I'll explain later."

Y/n glared at her injured partner, not liking that the two were being secretive but megumi did say he'll tell her soon, that was enough. Both of them started walking towards the roof's door. Bending her knees down slightly, she leaned to the side and used her free to pick up her snacks. With this, she completely lets go of megumi as he fell onto the ground with a harsh slap. Before megumi could literally curse her out for dropping him after she offered to help him, she quickly picked him up bridal style. Fushiguro was silent. it wasn't that he accepted what she was doing but more like in shock and didn't have words.

Satoru just stood by with a dumbfounded look on his face and only was able to say "O-"

Y/n didn't really care, it was bothersome to carry him on her shoulder all the way down some stairs. As she said before, she's a Sorcerer.

Megumi looked up at her with an angry expression, it seemed like he was gonna pop a vain. She only smiled in response and simply said, "Hold on." And with that, she jumped off the school's roof, heading back to the dorms.

#gojo saturo x reader #jjk anime #jujustu kaisen #anime #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori #x reader #megumi x reader #itadori yuji x reader

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.18

a/n: all i can say is... BRING BACK CHRONOHAUL :) hope ya’ll like the chapter!

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 19

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito @meximorrita @awesomeee19 @celestial-kanzakii @laure-lo @team-wang-puppy @aydience-world @choros-main-hoe @but-kairis-not-that-smart @colorseeingchick (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

“Kurono.” Overhaul snapped. “We’re done for the day. Take Eri-chan to her room and give the new toy to keep her busy.”

Finishing the last part of the job, Kurono pinned Eri’s bandages and carried her. Watching as Overhaul left the room, he felt the little girl trembling in his hold. The past few days, his boss had been a little harsher on the girl and it showed when he opened her up without being warned. Patting her head, the flinch did not help in the tense aura surrounding the base.

Once he locked her doors, he walked down the dimly lit hall and passed by Overhaul’s office. The faint sound of him typing away in his laptop made him stop in his tracks. It was rare for him to even look at his laptop. Something must be bothering him more than ever, for sure.

Knocking on the door, he was told to come in and entered silently.

“You’re on the laptop.” He commented and lazily flopped on the sofa. Taking his mask off, he rubbed his face and leaned on the back rest.

“I can see that.” Overhaul’s eyes remained glued to the screen. “Is there something you need?”

“D’you talk to her yet?” He yawned and stretched his limbs. Legs ready to bounce should his boss show any sign of rage.

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“Just askin’.” He shrugged his shoulders and fiddled with his fingers. “Eri-chan’s in her room now and the toy still didn’t lighten her mood. Not that it ever works.”

He merely hummed and continued typing.

“Mind if I ask what exactly happened?” Kurono sat up with perfect posture. His legs angled to the door, ready to make a run for it. The tension was too much. Even for the precepts. He could care less about the budding lovelife his boss had but the limit was drawing near. Hearing the laptop slam close, Kurono stood up and inched his way to the door.

“You have absolutely no business learning what happened behind those closed doors. But, if it pleases your curiosity, the woman mentioned her time with Ackerman.” Overhaul impatiently tapped his index finger on the desk. The other hand massaging his temple. “Satisfied?”

“What else did she say?”

“She said that her emotions aren’t there for the bastard and that she has her eyes set on someone else.”

For someone who played shogi skillfully, Kurono had to admit that his friend was as clueless as the word could imply. Using all of his strength not to twitch his eye at the ignorance being displayed, he let out a sigh and went back to the sofa.

“So why be pissed about it? Clearly she’s interested in you.”

“I am not pissed. I am merely agitated at the turn of events.” He stopped tapping his finger and stood up. Exiting himself out, he decided a long bath might cool his head.

“You do realize she only did that to rile you up. You’re losing to her game, Kai. I bet a shit ton of cash that she wanted to see if a reaction would suffice and looking at you now, she got exactly what she wished.” Kurono talked the fastest he’s ever attempted in his life. “I’ll also bet my money that you ignoring her only adds to her growing problems.”

“And what makes you say that, Kurono?” He was now facing the arrow-haired man. Fists clenched tightly.

“One of the men saw her entering Nighteye’s agency.”

“THAT Nighteye?” He cocked a brow and took a step closer to the sofa.

“Yes. Her car remained parked for quite some time. By the time she left, I was told she was speeding towards the precinct.”

Gathering his thoughts, Chisaki found himself seated across Kurono. His bird mask resting on the table between them. The surgical mask now on full display showing the shadows his face offered. Without realizing it, his brows were furrowed and teeth gritting.

“If it’s bothering you, why not just call her or send a message.” Kurono shrugged.

“If she has been spotted entering the agency, chances are she’s been part of the heroes schemes all this time.” He was nodding to himself. “And she had the audacity to act like she was part of nothing. Smart move for her but not careful enough.”

Squinting at the train of thought he had just heard, Kurono rested his elbows on his thighs.

“So, you think she’s teaming up with the heroes?”

“She is.” He leaned on the back rest.

“She told you?”

“Not outright.”

“What gave her away then?”

“The night I left, she mentioned how the heroes don’t have a clear map of the base and only an outline. That was either a slip or intentional. From the turn of events, it may have been accidental.” The memory of that night, having his body so close to yours made him fiddle with the hem of his gloves. The scene of having your flushed face so near to his made him smirk under the black mask. Glancing at the calendar, though there was no need, it had been three days since the both of you contacted each other.

“Do you think we’ve been bugged?” Kurono asked. His eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other.

“No.” Crossing his arm against his chest, he let out a long sigh. “Not yet, at least. But knowing them, it’s bound to happen and they will use (y/n) for that.”

“What do you intend on doing?”

“Buy me a new sim tomorrow, Kurono. It’s best if communication is cut. The Quirk erasing bullets are nearing its completion. Any upcoming hindrances would disrupt the plan.” Taking his phone out, he checked for any messages. Seeing as there were none, he turned it off and threw the sim card across the table. The small plastic landing inches away from the edge.

“You’re not going to overhaul it?” This was something he was not expecting.

“No. Burn it.”

“You’re…” He took the sim into his hand. “You’re really serious about this.”

"Those rats are on the move. The chances of her bugging our base is high. Knowing she's not the type to refuse, it is best to cancel out any communication." Picking up his mask, he let out a silent sigh and wore the said item. "No need to fret, Kurono. I've already prepared the necessary actions."

"Knowing you, there's no need to fret." He too took his mask and wore it as well. Fixing his hood, he stared at his friend. "What about the Fukuo Kai case?"

"That is in two months. The hype would have died down." Standing up, he fixed his coat and motioned Kurono to follow him out. "Besides. If (y/n) really has an interest in me, she would know the perils of harboring emotions. Let's go. I'm famished."

"Pardon?" Kurono stopped walking and stared at the back of his boss.

"Even the strongest villains need nourishment."

"Oh, uh, sure." Not sure what to do next, he rubbed the hems of hood. "Shall I ready the car?"

Seeing the nod, he blinked himself back to reality and went separate ways. Walking towards the garage, the blue-haired man replayed the events. He wasn't too sure but he could feel how your mannerisms were slowly rubbing off of Kai. Not that he minded, it was just… weird.

Taking the sim from his pocket, Kurono weighed out the options of burning or keeping the small object. Kai or even Overhaul wasn't too fond of keeping mementos, but his sense of gratitude was always strong. His ways of repaying debts were always admirable, no matter how absurd his methods may be.

Once he was now seated in the car, he knew exactly what to do with it.

The following day, Tsukauchi took his seat beside you. A brown paper bag now resting on your desk. After the heart to heart talk inside your car, you are more than glad that nothing has changed. He still treated you as his partner, as well as his close friend.

"Here are some updates for the Fukuo Kai." Reaching out for a folder, Tsukauchi pulled it with his fingertips till he finally grasped it. "We have detected some movements in their western branch. Me and the 4th division will be checking them out 3 days from now. Care to join?"

Checking your schedule, it was vacant and you agreed.

"So what're your plans now?" He asks while grabbing a small chip from your meal. "Nighteye?"

"Yeah. They’ll be discussing who’s who within the eight precepts.” Despite trying your best, you couldn’t help the slight slumping of your shoulders. Slowly nodding at the words that left your mouth, you chuckled and shook your head.

“Are you debating whether or not to tell him you're a part of the scheme?”

“I can’t but I feel like he’s caught up. I tried to call him last night. Yes, I know it’s cheap of me. But, his number was unavailable so…”

“He probably was off doing villainous deeds.” Tsukauchi patted your head and dragged his seat back to his cubicle. “He’d be a real jerk if he won’t contact you within the next few days. Trust me. Not even bad guys can resist the temptation of women.”

“You’re making me sound like a prostitute, Nao~” You commented while checking your emails. For now, nothing caught your eye. The occasional spam emails were present and one from Hawks but you could save that for later. Any more birdmen was not in your priority.

A few minutes passed and you were now engrossed in typing reports. When the lights of your company telephone lit up, your eyes darted to Namase’s door. It had been a long time since the both of you conversed, or let alone saw each other. The fact that he was calling you only meant bad news. Recalling every case you left unsolved, you were quite confident that this was nothing worth worrying about.

Picking up the phone, you braced yourself.

“Namase?”

“Bet you’re wondering why I called you, right?” Right. You forgot. This man held no filter whatsoever. “Well no need to worry. I just had to inform you that we received an anon caller. Do you wanna put him on the line?”

“An Anon caller? For what case?” You grabbed a pen and paper.

“For the Arson case.”

“Can you put him on the line?”

“Sure~”

Namase put the Anon caller thru and you waited till you were sure he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Hello?” Even if you weren’t sure whether or not you should receive this call.

“Is this (l/n)-san?” His voice was low but clear enough for you to hear. “I think I have some good information about the fires.”

“I’d love to hear it but I had to hand over the case to the HPSC not too long ago. I can give you their hotline number if you want.”

“They scare me. I would prefer it if it was you who passed the message to them. Are you free later at 4pm?”

“Let me just check my schedule.” You knew you were free but you felt the need to look up the person. “Can I have your name, if that’s alright?”

“Tetsu.”

“Okay, Tetsu-san. Where do you want to meet up? Is a cafe alright? Or do you want a private room in the precinct?”

“A cafe please.”

“Alright, We can meet by the Nooks and Books. ’ll be the one wearing black. I’ll see you later.”

With no greetings, the line ended and you put the phone down. Gathering your stuff, you began to skim through each article you recently read about fires. Granted it had been a while since you last heard any news about fires, the tip was or could be useful. Of course having to talk to the HPSC was something you were not looking forward to.

“Nao, I’ll be taking my leave now. Anything you want me to bring when I come back?” You peaked into his rather messy cubicle. “Geez. Calm down with your cases, buddy.”

“This is only for the meantime.” He scratched his neck and stared at the scattered papers and folders. “I’d like a creampuff, though. A creampuff sounds nice in these trying times.”

“Aight. I’ll bring you a box later.” You said as you exited the floor.

It only took a few minutes but you were now seated in another desk. One where you wished you were not a part of. Greeting the heroes who had just entered the meeting room, you smiled at the sight of Deku and Mirio.

“(l/n)-san! Long time no see!” Deku greeted you and took the vacant seat beside you. “How’s work?”

“Work is work. How’s school? Are you holding up? Must be difficult to juggle this raid and academics.”

“It is but we have supplementary classes so I can manage.”

“Your classmates with Uraraka, Asui, and Kirishima, right?”

“Yeah!”

Exchanging a few more small talk with the heroes, you locked eyes with the hero sitting beside you. The scruffy hair, eyes that looked like they haven’t slept a single second, and the trademark scarf resting on his shoulders. Giving a shy smile, Aizawa merely responded with a lazy nod before Nighteye finally entered the room.

“As you all know, today’s agenda will be task distribution. Let’s get on with the details now, shall we?”

The tasks were distributed rather well. Fatgum Agency would be accompanying the front of the team. Right alongside Nighteye and Aizawa. The other heroes were tasked to stay outside and guard the entrance for any possible nuances that might occur. The police staff were divided into two groups. Being given ample time to assign which officers would be in the outer and inner group, you merely nodded and took the list of names.

‘Great. More work.’ Flipping the pages, most officers were people you had worked with before. At least things wouldn’t be so difficult.

“(l/n)-san?” Nighteye snapped your thoughts away. Adjusting his glasses, he rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in. “How’s the task of bugging Overhaul?”

“I haven’t been in touch with any of them for a few days now. I will be trying this week if the situation allows.”

“Alright. If that succeeds then things will go much smoother and will surely pick up speed. Best of luck. Any questions?”

“Are there any updates about the League of Villains being tied with them?” Deku asked.

“As of the moment, there’s no movement from them. So, it’s safe to assume that they only have minor participation in said event.” Nighteye replied without batting an eyelash. He really was confident in this raid.

Feeling guilt rushing through your veins, you shifted in your seat and silently exhaled. Once Nighteye gave the adjournment, you scurried out of the room and made your way to the cafe. It was a bit traffic but you would still be able to arrive on time. With the cafe being near the station, parking would be no trouble.

When things were now settled, you were now walking towards the cafe and found yourself now standing in front of the cashier and saying your order. Taking your number, you looked for a private booth and sat there. It rested in the corner so Tetsu wouldn’t be too uncomfy.

When the clock struck 4, you were now staring at the lobby waiting for that Tetsu to arrive.

Sure enough, a man with a hood entered the cafe and made eye contact with you. Seeing as he walked towards your booth, it was safe to assume that this was Tetsu.

“Are you Tetsu?” You asked the man wearing the hood. With the sunglasses and mask, you could only make out such little skin his face had.

“I cannot stay long. But I came to hand this over.” He slid a small brown envelope. His head hanging low making sure you wouldn’t catch a glimpse at his covered face. “I hope this can assist your case.”

“To be fair, please stay while I go through the contents of this envelope.” Taking the envelope, you slid the content out only to have a sim card laying flat on your palm. “What kind of information does this hold, Tetsu-san?”

“That information is sensitive so you can check its contents before handing it over.”

“But, I’m not part of the Arson case anymore. Would you still want me to hand this in or redact a few messages.”

Overhaul did not mention you were no longer part of the case. Cursing at how blank his mind was, Kurono glanced at the environment before he exhaled deeply.

“I will only say this once, so listen carefully.” He uttered.

“This isn’t about the Arson case now, is it?” Sliding the sim card back, you carefully placed it inside your bag and focused on Tetsu. The words that came out of his mouth made your heart beat faster. Clenching your fists, you braced for whatever he would say next.

“Kai has been on edge and it’s been such a pain in the ass. I don’t know what the hell made you decide to mention Ackerwacker but you got what you wished for.” Kurono’s voice was low. Barely audible due to the cafe’s music. “But, it would be a lie if I said he hasn’t been more human ever since he met you.”

“Can you take your mask and shades off?”

“You’ll probably just arrest me right here.” Kurono took his shades off revealing familiar gray eyes.

“You were that guy from the restaurant?” Your eyes widened at the realization that Overhaul had interfered that early on. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but ya’ll did me a great favor.”

A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he took the mask off. It felt different having his face exposed after a long time.

“I can see why he took interest in you.”

“Why meet me, though? Wouldn’t this only risk in you being overhauled and shit?”

“I have my ways. Kai instructed me to get rid of his sim card but I don’t know. Perhaps you can make use of it in your private life.”

“Well, to be honest, the heroes don’t fully trust me.” You shrugged. That was nothing new. “It sucks having to juggle work and personal feelings in this particular case. Guess both of us are in a pinch.”

“Perks of being with Kai.”

“You should probably get going… Chronostasis, right?” Putting his disguise back on, a switch flipped in your mind. “Hey you mind if I get your number? If you have one, ofcourse.”

“Why?”

“I like to make my connections.” You winked. When he took out his phone, you in turn took something out of your pocket. Placing it on the table, you pushed the small box towards the villain. “I’ll text you the instructions later, aight?”

“What’s this?”

“You’ll know when you open it.”

With that, Kurono pocketed the small box and left the cafe. When he was out of sight, you rubbed your face and groaned.

“Damn it.”

- - - - -

a/n: hohoho Kurono now enters the picture! hope ya’ll enjoyed this chapter! :) Mimick is still writing down Overhaul’s waiting list! if you guys have any questions or just wanna be tagged :) feel free to spam me! take care!

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #chisaki kai #bnha chisaki #chisaki x reader

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goose-books · 4 years

Photo

goose-books productions: a 2020 review

view the image in higher quality here! (open the image in a new tab to zoom in.) thank you to my dearest @yvesdot for the template

transcripts and month-by-month details under the cut! for reference, you can find my projects here :-) overall, new and old followers, thank you for another good year over here! [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your hand] [holds your h

january

i spent late 2019-early 2020 working on 2019’s nano project, quark, aka the speculative fiction thing about new york city and prophets and dissections of the chosen one trope and gay people. quark is my second-oldest project (five years!), but it’s also probably the most ambitious, so it’s been... difficult to wrangle into place, and i didn’t end up finishing a first draft. oh, well.

enjoy a snippet that is devastatingly emblematic of everything about quark. the tone. the homoerotic tension. the ensemble cast all talking over each other. the fact that caelum has spent pretty much this entire scene crying. fun autopsy report meeting.

Marble stares at the notebook in Shade’s hands. Or maybe he’s staring at Shade’s hands. Dawn feels a little voyeuristic, so she does what she does and says a dumb and unrelated thing: “Augustus, I think this pizza-on-the-floor thing is hurting my ass.”

Augustus flutters his hands. “Sometimes nonconformity is painful.”

“At least we’re originals,” Caelum mumbles into his sleeve.

“Exactly,” Augustus says.

“True originality doesn’t exist,” Marble says.

“Oh,” Shade deadpans, “it’s going to be a fun autopsy report meeting.”

It isn’t.

february

in january i stressed myself out trying to make the plot of quark work. so in february, i decided to take some time and write something Entirely For Fun. like, entirely for fun, no rules. and. my god. how do i explain the project i started calling “third eye for the bad guy.”

it was an unholy mashup of many of my past hyperfixations, including the gone series, a tale of two cities, warrior cats, and the left hand of darkness. one of the characters was a canon scalie and one was a canon fictionkinnie. it centered around a polycule of wannabe-evil-overlord high schoolers. i only wrote like three chapters but i was lost in the sauce for all of february and then i just… like… wiped it from my mind and moved on? somehow??? one character was a werewolf and that literally wasn’t relevant at ALL

Someone was going to die on these steps.

This had been Ivy Lee Palomo’s thought last year during the all-school photo, and it rose in her mind again now. The one hundred marble stairs leading up to the great double doors of Saint Constantine Academy were the school’s pride and glory, steep as the mountain, sharp as the blade under Ivy Lee’s skirt. With the cutting wind and snow glazing the stone more often than not, with the freshmen wild and wired on their first day of their first year, it was really only a matter of time before someone slipped and cracked their fucking head open.

It wasn’t going to be her. Not when she had Doc Martens and reflexes like an electric coil. Still. Ivy Lee didn’t want to watch someone die. She didn’t get along with dead people.

march

in march, i got back to the project i’d started in 2019 - AMT, my podcast! it’s a shakespeare retelling set in a modern high school; this excerpt is funnier and also more unnerving in context. (double, double, toil and trouble...)

INDRAJIT: What the hell are you doing?

[PAUSE.]

DEE (like she’s lying): Making pasta.

[ALL THREE OF THEM LAUGH.]

NONA: That’s right.

MORA: We have the keys to Mab’s office.

DEE: We’re using her stove.

NONA: To make pasta.

DEE: Do you want some?

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

INDRAJIT: No.

april

and darkling rears its head! all of my other projects have existed for at least a year; darkling (specfic king lear retelling) is... special. it was conceived in april, when i started hyperfixating on king lear, and i still managed to write an absolutely ridiculous amount of content for it. it was like the power of hyperfixation let me speedrun the entire process. which. okay.

iv: control

They say Cressida Stayer was nine years old when she turned her hair to gold. They laid her down in bed blonde, and the next morning, the waves cascading down her shoulders were solid metal, glinting harshly in the sunlight, weighing her down, creating that odd head-cocked expression she still wears now. Nine years old. Two or three years before most people develop enough magic skills to dye a single curl. Much less transfigure their hair into precious metal.

People also say Leovald Stayer’s immediate reaction was to hack it off her head and melt it down for cash. But generally they say that part a lot quieter.

may

in may i wrote AMT episode 15, by which i mean that in may there was a day when i sat in my room with the door shut for literally five straight hours listening to the same three songs on loop as i wrote the climax of one of the plotlines of AMT. so. that sure was… a day.

ISAAC: Do you want… do you want someone to drive you home? Hawk, you’re worrying me -

HAWK (almost cutting him off): Don’t. Don’t say that. I’m here to help. With your… thing.

ISAAC (quietly): I… don’t know if you should be here to see this.

HAWK (a little louder, more audibly upset): Well - what else am I going to do? Go home and - and have my dads talk at me and - and not be able to answer them? Because I can’t? I can’t. I don’t know what to say.

[PAUSE.]

ISAAC (V.O.): I wonder if this is what he feels like, on the outside, looking in at me. Watching someone else hurting. Helpless and afraid.

He still fits perfectly in my arms. I rest my chin on top of his head and pull him close to me, like I can stop him from shaking, like I can stop anything from happening the way I know it’s going to. I bury my face in his hair. He smells so familiar. He’s so warm.

God, Hawk. I love you so much. You shouldn’t be here to see this. Something bad’s gonna happen. And you’re not the kind of person who belongs in a tragedy.

june

okay, honestly, i should talk about “night shift” here, because in june i wrote a whole short story in one night (and then foamed over it for a week), but i am still in the process of submitting it places! so i am terrified to put even a sentence of it online. instead: the other thing i did this month was to finish AMT! (sixteen episodes and somewhere around 175k, iirc, but don’t quote me.) these lines are the opener to the final episode!

RAHMA (V.O.): The combined series of sophomore year disasters stretched through November. It’s June now. It’s taken me… a long time to get this all put together. I was going to make a vlog about it, initially - well, calling it a vlog sounds frivolous. I was going to make a video recounting the whole deal. All of it. From when I kissed Avery Fairchilde to the very last night. I scripted dozens of drafts; I put together dozens of bullet-pointed lists of what to cover… and it was never enough. Because Avery and I weren’t the only ones involved. Even if I was only focused on the two of us, it wasn’t just the two of us.

So… I gathered up everyone else. The whole town of Ellisburg is still talking about the week the town went crazy, but it wasn’t just a week. There was a lot leading up to it. And I think if anyone’s going to talk about it, it should be us. The people who lived it. So here we are. The most ambitious Rahma Ashiq production of all time - at least so far.

july

every july i pause whatever else i’m doing to celebrate the birthday of aurum & argentate, twins from my oldest and dearest WIP The Mortal Realm. july fifteenth! mark your calendars. they’re princes, though argentate would really rather not be; you can read the full birthday piece here.

“Do you… plan to get dressed?” A bit of the usual humor crept back into Aurum’s voice. “Although if you want to speak to the kingdom in your underthings, by all means, you have my full support.”

Argentate scrubbed at his face. He wasn’t dressed, no, but the usual malaise hung over his shoulders like a cloak. Guilt. Nerves. The sick sense that he hadn’t done something he was supposed to. The numb knowledge that it was too late to change a thing.

“I meant to,” he said. “Get dressed, I mean.” The rest went unsaid: I have just been sitting here. On the floor. Thinking about how I should get dressed.

“Ah,” Aurum said, extending his hand. “The traditional route. We’ll save the nude speeches for the future, then.”

Argentate took his hand, stumbling a little as Aurum pulled him to his feet. He steadied himself on the closest wall, taking a few deep breaths. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. His hands found their way to the cross, again and again.

august

this summer, i wrote an entire draft of Valentine Van Velt is Dead, AKA “holden caulfield goes to exposure therapy,” AKA the weird little personal side project i keep tucked into my coat. interesting features include second-person narration from a narrator who doesn’t like the main character all that much. so reading it is kind of like the book wants to kill you? with an added dash of general melancholy.

You used to live here. That’s the thing that’s got you feeling so off.

You didn’t recognize your old house. I mean, you kind of did. You remembered that the road was on a hill. That hill felt like a goddamn forty-five degree angle when you were a kid. But if you didn’t have the address written down you wouldn’t have known it at all. It would have been just another little suburban house in rows of perfect little towns that make your skin crawl.

So now you’re in this diner looking out a gross smudgy window trying to block out the elevator music pumping through the speakers in the ceiling or whatever. I don’t know how speakers work. You’re trying to tune that shit out. The waitress comes over and catches you by surprise so you just point at some coffee thing on the menu so she’ll go away. For the record: you don’t drink coffee.

There’s a public library across the street. A little square building. You probably used to go there. The lady comes over and thunks your coffee on the table and gives you a kind of look, like she wants to know what in the goddamn hell you think you’re doing here and not at school. You sip your coffee and look out the window until she leaves you alone again. And then you spit it back into the cup because, for the record: you don’t drink coffee.

september

i spent september and october prepping for nano, so i was mostly working on darkling...

It’s late spring; still, at this time of night, on a rooftop, there’s a chill. The wind plays with the end of Ruby’s coat, with her hair. She hands the bottle off to Jasper, stares up at the fogged-over sky, wishes she were lying in Dany’s arms in Dany’s bed instead of here. Wishes, even, that Dany were the one on the roof with her. At least then they’d be cold together. At least then she wouldn’t have to imagine what Dany would say; she could just listen, and watch Dany’s flashing smile and her flinty eyes.

(She cuddles. This is another thing Dany does that Dany probably shouldn’t do, based on everything about Dany; it’s not like rattlesnakes cuddle. But Dany likes to nuzzle into Ruby’s side and rest her head on Ruby’s collarbones and toss an arm over Ruby’s chest, and hold her down like she’s worried she’ll float off somewhere. She’ll card her fingers through Ruby’s hair and hum. Even though they could get caught, even though she’s probably got better places to be - Dany cuddles.)

Ruby imagines it, momentarily, both of them on the roof together, sprawled like horrifyingly beautiful gargoyles, sharp teeth flashing, blood running hot. Up here - it’d be like they ruled the world.

But whatever. Jasper’s fun. He’s hot. He’s got a sharp tongue in a lot more ways than one. And she likes when he lets the mask down. She likes seeing the soft bits underneath. She wants to sink her teeth and nails into them so hard she draws blood. Masks don’t bleed. Ruby would know; that’s why she is what she is.

october

...though i was also in creative writing class in school, and thus ended up writing a bunch of poems of varying quality (my teacher had a real thing for poetry) and also one darklingverse short story where rory and cressida hold hands! which you can find here.

Lorelai Rory Flowers is afraid of thunder.

This is a bit of an embarrassing thing to admit, as they’re seventeen (“at least seventeen,” they like to tell people, “maybe two hundred, who’s to say?”) and generally wise beyond their years, or whatever it is that adults say about kids with too much psychological baggage. Being afraid of thunder is not a very wise-beyond-one’s-years trait. And yet the state of affairs remains: loud noises make Rory want to melt into the earth. Back when they still went to school, even the fire alarm sent them scuttling under their desk to hide.

Right now, in the elevator, all they can do is shrink into their sweater.

They haven’t let go of Cressida’s hand yet.

november

and then november of course was nano which was an adventure all the way through. (opening tumblr on the fifth day of nano to find out about d*stiel... was something.)

“Apologize to me. Or get out of my house.”

Gracen’s voice is very, very low. For a moment she thinks he hasn’t heard her at all. Then he spins, eyes blazing. “What did you say?”

Gracen watches her own chest heave. She pushes herself up off the desk, stands with the effort of pushing a mountain off of her back. Leovald is six-foot-four. Gracen is six-foot-two. In her heels, in the heels she must wear to be a professional woman, to be a lady - they are the same height.

Gracen wipes her nose. When she lowers her arm, there’s a streak of blood across the back of her hand. Fire shivers in her chest; her heart rings in her ears; her voice could cut steel.

“I said,” she says, low, slow, volume building, “apologize to me. Or get. Out. Of. My. House.”

december

and finally, the poem i posted this year! it’s called the beast sonnet, and you can find it in its own post over here (with commentary! how sexy.)

i kill the beast and drop down to my knees, my blade stained dark with blood of stygian hue, and for a moment these scarred hands shake free, and hold a world unfurled for me anew. but once-mourned victims, victors, vices find; fear winged me; now its absence strips me bare. my sword now dulls, my legs, my voice, my mind; the beast, pried from my throat, leaves no skill there. and still i hear it laugh, O DEVOTEE— O CHILD DEAR, NO GLORY WITHOUT ME.

i was quite productive this year; i have to think it was because i was avoiding things... the peak of my productivity happened over the summer and in november, AKA, college app hell. (almost done with the last applications! pray for me.)

a general breakdown of what occupied me this year:

(no, i don’t know why the “various other things” category ended up so large... i blame all the one-off projects i wrote a single page for, and also whatever the fuck happened in february. yes, i do know why it looks hideous; it’s because each of my WIPs has a theme color

thank you once again for spending some time at goose-books dot gov this year! what to expect for next year: well, i very much hope i can produce AMT... also hoping to get darkling ready for beta readers, so keep your eyes out!

#max.txt #and that's a wrap!!! what a goddamn year.#okay. breath in. tags:#quark tag #third eye tag #(i think there are like. two posts in that one?)#amt tag #darkling tag #tmr tag #vvvid tag #wow that was a lot of text. if you read all this... [blows you a kiss] thank you!#max actually writes #year in review

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paigenotblank · 5 years

Note

nine/rose, secret admirer

tagging @doctorroseprompts for providing the prompt list.

prompt: secret admirer

pairing: nine x rose

AO3 TSP

A Not So Secret Admiration

Rose was browsing through the sci-fi new releases at her favorite bookshop, when she heard a whispered argument from the brother and sister who’d recently taken over the shop from their grandfather. She didn’t want to intrude, but at the same time she couldn’t help overhearing.

“What crawled up your arse this morning?”

“Donna!”

“No, seriously. You’ve been a right prat since I got in this morning.”

There was a heavy, masculine sigh.

“Did you eat breakfast? You know how you get when you don’t eat.”

He mumbled. “Didn’t have time.”

Rose heard a feminine snort. “Mr. I Don’t Need More Than 4 Hours of Sleep, didn’t have time for breakfast? An’ what were you doing this morning instead of eating? Shagging that ex of yours that’s been sniffin’ around, tryin’ to convince you to sell the shop and take her traveling?”

Rose couldn’t resist peeking around the bookcase. John, Donna’s brother, ran a hand down his face. “Was goin’ over the books again last night and fell asleep upstairs. Didn’t wake up ‘til 15 minutes before we opened. An’ for the record, I haven’t seen Reinette since she eloped with Louis.”

“Right. Sorry.” Donna’s expression softened and she patted her brother on the arm. “But you’ve got to take better care of yourself. That’s the fifth time in two weeks that you’ve slept here. You can’t keep-”

“I brought in a camp bed. It’s fine.” He ran his hand over his close cropped hair. “I’m missing something. I know we can turn this place around and bring in a lot more money, I just have to figure out how.”

“John…” Donna bit her lip. “Er, so how bad is it?”

“We managed to turn a small profit this month, but with all the debt Gramps managed to get into, we still don’t have the money to make any new hires. Sorry, I know you’d rather spend more time at home with Gramps and the kids.”

“A profit’s good, yeah? A step in the right direction at any rate. I know how you get when you put your mind to something. If you think we can turn it around, then it’s only a matter of time. An’ don’t worry about me, I can stick around a bit longer. I mean after I get back from my holiday. I’m still plannin’ on going-”

“No. I know. I wouldn’t ask you to cancel. And thanks.”

“That’s me, best sister in Chiswick. Now get your arse next door, and get somethin’ to eat before I have to leave for the school run.”

Rose’s eyes widened and she blindly grabbed a book from the shelf. With a bright smile on her face, she walked around the tall, bookcases toward the front of the shop.

“Rose! Didn’t see you there.”

She shrugged. “On my lunch break and you know I can’t resist checking the new releases.” She handed John her book and credit card and rested her elbows on the counter. “Also, I just wanted to tell you how much I loved the Madman in a Box that you recommended.”

John’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, before his eyes took on a glint of mischief. “So much that you wanted to read it again?”

“Oh, yes! Definitely plannin’ on it.” She smiled at him with a hint of tongue poking out the side.

His eyes darted down to her lips and he had to clear his throat. “You know you can reread the copy you bought last week.”

“Huh?”

He held up the book that she’d handed him. The very same Madman in a Box that she’d purchased the week before.

She gaped at it for a second and blushed. “Uh, oh, this one’s for a friend. A, erm, a…a gift for her birthday.”

He grinned a lopsided smile, one that might have looked daft if he wasn’t so bloody handsome, that caused another flush to appear on Rose’s face - although this time it had nothing to do with embarrassment. “I was just teasing.”

“Right. Yeah. I reckoned.”

He handed her the book and credit card back. “I hope your friend enjoys it as much as you did.”

“Thanks. Laters.” She gave Donna and John a small wave and headed out the door.

“My God, just ask her out already.”

John startled and crossed his arms over his chest. “What? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

Donna crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes.

John shook his head. “Just leave it. She’s not interested in me.”

“She absolutely fancies you. Ask. Her. Out.”

John moved to fiddle with the buttons and levers of the antique cash register. “I’m too old for her. An’ even if that wasn’t enough, she’s…she’s like a ray of sunshine. An’ ’m a storm cloud. She’d never-”

“John, Rose is one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met. She had a rough childhood, but she fought all the stereotypes and people telling her she wasn’t good enough and made something of her life. She’s exactly the type of woman you need, one who can understand everything you’ve been through.”

“But what about her? What does she get? A broken old soldier? She deserves better.”

“Oi! That’s my brother your talking about. He’s a brilliant, hard-working, adventurous, and fantastic man. Any woman would be lucky to have him.”

John flushed at his sister’s praise and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“Now get your arse next door, and let Miss Tyler butter your scone.”

“Donna! What- I- What’s that even mean?”

Her peal of laughter followed him from the shop.

–

The few mornings later, John was rushing to open and found a steaming cup of coffee and a white bag of freshly baked croissants complete with little jars of assorted jams waiting in front of the door. He looked around but the early morning street was deserted. He picked up the treats and noticed a message written underneath the Bad Wolf Bakery logo: Hope you have a brew-tiful day! xx

He pushed the door open to the bookstore and scratched his head. Who on Earth sent him breakfast? Oh! Breakfast! Must be Donna’s doing. Knowin’ she can’t keep an eye on me while in Egypt. An’ she always signs her texts with ‘xx.’ I’ll have to remember to thank her when I talk to her later.

In his rush to prepare the store for opening, the thought was soon forgotten.

–

All week, it was the same. He’d taken to sleeping in his office while Donna was away, but without fail, every morning, just before opening, there was a coffee and something freshly baked waiting for him by the front door. Sometimes there was a funny little coffee pun or joke about books written on the cup, other days a simple ‘xx.’

He was sipping that morning’s said coffee, when the bell over the door signaled a customer.

“Rose! You’re here early today.”

She bit her lip and gave him a small grin. “Yeah. My mum got caught up in a work emergency, so I’ve got to pick up my little brother from his créche during my lunch break an’ I didn’t wanna miss our, erm, out on any new releases.”

“Blimey. You must be my best customer.”

“Oh…” Rose blushed and lowered her eyes to the floor.

“Love me an avid reader.” When she’d garnered the courage to look once more at John, he was giving her a soft smile. “I’m the same. ‘S why I run this place.”

“I thought you got it from your granddad?”

Running a hand along the close cropped hair at his nape, his grin turned sheepish. “Aye, but coulda sold it. I love books though, me, and running this place is a dream come true.”

Rose smiled up at him. “Nice neighborhood too.”

John swallowed as his eyes narrowed in on her lips. “Yeah, like the neighbor a lot.” Rose’s lips formed a perfect ‘o’ and his gaze flew up to hers. “I mean, the neighbors! All of them. I didn’t mean to imply- Not that you’d be- I, er, I meant that everyone’s been really great since I got here. You included, of course. Don’t know what I’d do without your breakfasts. Probably starve. Or scare away all the customers. I’m a right grump when I haven’t eaten. And I’m gonna stop talkin’ now.” He covered his eyes with his hand.

“I, er, I’m just gonna go check on those…” She pointed toward the book cases.

Rose ducked into the first aisle she came to and leaned against the shelves trying to calm her fluttering heart. What’d he mean by- Was it a Freudian slip, or just a mistake? I thought he might- An’ he was staring at my lips, but then… Ugh. Get a grip. He’s obviously not interested or he would’ve already asked you out and the sooner you get that through your stupid-

“Rose?”

She pushed off the bookcase and smiled brightly. “Yeah?”

“Biographies today?”

Rose glanced over to the books on her left. “Oh, uh, yeah. Thought I’d change it up a bit.”

John stepped right into her personal space and reached up to one of the upper shelves. One whiff of his cologne and it set her heart back to hammering wildly in her chest. God, he smells good. How does he have any right to smell…that good? She bit the inside of her lip to keep from embarrassing herself with a moan or sigh.

“Then I think you’ll really enjoy this one.”

Rose took the book he’d pulled down for her and stared at it. She couldn’t make her eyes concentrate on the words of the title - his nearness was overwhelming all her senses.

“Y-yeah. Looks great.”

He tilted his head and examined her face. “Are you okay? You look a little flushed.”

“Yup! Never better.” She forced a big smile and tried to hold her breath without being obvious about it. Seriously, what kind of cologne is he wearing? It made her want to push him against the stacks and snog him senseless.

He took a step closer to her, and-

“Well, don’t you two look cozy?”

A squeak of surprise from Rose had John turning around.

“Donna! What are you doing back? I thought you weren’t due back ‘til-”

“Cut the trip short.”

“What? Why?”

“Egypt wasn’t what I expected. You know how I was gonna go barefoot? But it was all bus trips and guidebooks and ‘don’t drink the water.’”

“Let me guess, Lee drank the water?”

Donna sighed and nodded. “He was miserable. I was miserable. So we decided to just come home.”

“Sorry.”

Rose stood clutching the book, trying not to attract the notice of John’s sister. Not that she didn’t like the other woman, quite the opposite. It seemed, though, that more often than not, she was around when Rose was making a fool of herself in front of John. And she always gave her such a knowing glance. God, I must be so obvious.

“Eh, it’s okay. Missed the kids anyway.” Donna turned her sights on Rose.

Shit.

“Hi, Rose. You’re in awfully early today.”

“Hi, Donna. Sorry to hear about your trip.”

Donna waved away her concern and her mouth tilted into a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m more interested in whether my idiot brother finally asked you-”

“Donna!” He hissed at his sister, before grabbing the book from Rose. “C’mon, Rose. Let me ring you up.”

Rose looked from John to Donna and back. “Asked me what?”

The tips of John’s ears turned a delightful shade of red. “Oh, er, whether you, erm, might like to…” Her eyes shone with hope. “Erm, I’ve been thinking about…oh, having a book signing here, if I can manage it, I’d like to get Davis T. Russell.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, you know, the author of Madman in a Box.”

She smiled as she handed her credit card over. “Yeah. That sounds amazing.” Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He handed her back her credit card and watched as she walked out the door.

Donna slapped him upside the head.

“Oi!”

“You really are an idiot. Book signing?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “‘S somethin’ I’ve been thinking about doing. What?”

“Just ask her out.” Donna picked up John’s coffee cup and took a sip. She nearly gagged. “Ugh. Cold coffee.”

“Well, yeah. It’s from this morning.”

Donna’s eyebrow rose as she noticed the ‘xx’ on the side of the cup. “Two kisses?”

“Yeah? It’s how you always sign off on texts.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you’ve been buying me breakfast all week.”

“What? No I haven’t.”

“Donna, all week since you’ve been gone, breakfast has been waiting for me at the door with your two little x’s sign off.”

A cheeky grin blossomed over Donna’s face. “Wasn’t me, sunshine. Sounds like someone’s got a secret admirer. Though, come on, not really all that secret, is it?”

“What does that mean? Who?”

Donna rolled her eyes. “It says it right on the side of the cup. Who do we know that owns a place called Bad Wolf Bakery?”

“You can’t mean Rose?”

“She has a huge crush on you to the point that she comes in every single day to see you.”

“Donna…”

“The same Rose that you just let walk out of here even though she was waiting for you to ask her out!”

“She wasn’t.”

“She was.”

John glanced at the door. “You really think…?”

“Yes! Now go after her.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. John rushed out the door and toward the bakery entrance.

He pulled open the door. “Rose!”

She squeaked, hands at her back from tying her apron back on. “John?”

He walked up to her and with his intense stare asked, “Have you been sending me breakfast all week?”

“Er, yeah.”

“Why?”

She bit her lip and her eyes darted nervously around the shop. “Oh, well, I knew that with Donna away that you probably wouldn’t have time, and then when you didn’t come in at your normal time for your coffee… I, erm, just wanted to make sure you had breakfast.” She blushed under his scrutiny. “‘S the most important meal of the day.”

The way he was looking at her had her pulse racing, and she jumped when he finally spoke. “Would you like to go out for dinner with me?”

“Wha’?”

“I, er, a date? I…really like you an’ ‘ve been wanting to ask you out for a while. Just too big of a coward, me.”

“Yeah? I’ve been hoping you’d ask me out for a while. And I’d love to.”

The two stood grinning daftly at each other until Amy threw a dish towel at them for blocking the register.

–

One year later:

John took a sip of his coffee and savored the last of the morning’s quiet moments. He’d be unlocking the shop’s front door in a matter of minutes.

Rose walked through the newly built archway that connected their two stores carrying two mugs. She handed one to Donna and snuggled into John’s side holding the other.

“Thanks, Rose.” Donna took a sip of her tea and asked, “How was the honeymoon?”

“Barcelona was beautiful.”

“Did you two even make it out of the hotel room to see any of it?”

Rose shook her head and raised herself onto her toes to kiss her new husband.

John chuckled. “There may’ve been one or two days of sightseeing.”

Rose slapped his chest. “Oi!”

“Is it my fault I have the most ravishing wife on the planet?”

She stuck her tongue out the side of her smile. “Well, yeah, but Donna doesn’t need to know all the dirty details.” She turned dancing eyes to her new sister-in-law. “And believe me, they were very, very dirty. Filthy even.”

For once in her life, Donna blushed. “Oh my god, you’re as bad as him! Too much information!”

Rose shrugged and primly stated, “You’re the one who asked.”

John stole another kiss from his radiant wife. “Ready, love?”

“Ready.”

Rose walked to the front door of the bakery as John prepared to open his own. They’d merged their lives as they had their livelihoods. Bad Wolf Bakery & Booksellers was open for business.

#nine x rose #doctorroseprompts #human au #bookstore #bakery #mutual pining #idiots in love #secret admirer #prompt #fleurdeneuf

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everbluesky · 5 years

Text

Inside My Mind Chapter 2-

Blood and Crimson

Pairings: None

AN: Special thanks to @schweeeppess for beta-reading! She’s absolutely amazing!

Tagging: @chidori-chan

!Slight Violence/Gore Warning!

He watched the eight men circled around him draw closer and closer, guns raised, and their leader spoke up.

“We made a deal. You give us the cash, and we give you the goods. We’ve done our part”—he cocked his pistol—“now where’s tha money?”

He tightened his grip on the case of “goods”.

Just go through the motions, this shouldn’t take long, he reminded himself.

“Mr. Roscoe will deliver your money soon,” he said, addressing the Italian gang’s boss. “I’m just here to pick up his goods, Mr. Alfonsi.”

“Oh-ho-ho, I see,” Mr. Alfonsi laughed. “You’re trying ta play us!” Turning to his group, the gang leader said, “Ya hear that boys? This midget is trying ta trick the great Alfonsi gang out of our cash!”

The other men laughed along with their boss but soon the mocking laughter died off and the serious atmosphere grew thicker.

Another member spoke up.

“What should we do wit him, boss?” He called.

Mr. Alfonsi smiled cruelly.

“Well, we’re just gonna have ta get a payment of our own,” he said, raising his gun and aiming it at ‘the midget’s head.

‘The midget’ relaxed as he heard the gun fire.

Focus, he remembered. Any emotion can get you killed.

The bullet stopped centimeters from his forehead, and the Alfonsi gang gasped.

“Oi, what kinda trick are you playing?” Someone yelled, stepping back in fear.

The Italian gang leader swore.

“He’s one of those meta freaks!” Mr. Alfonsi stammered, cocking his gun to fire again.

But it was too late.

‘The midget’ drove the bullet that had been meant to go through his head straight between Alfonsi’s eyes before sending it through all the other gang members temples.

He watched as they dropped, literally, dead.

A bullet through the brain isn’t something most people survive.

The aforementioned bit of ammo, now covered in blood, floated back to him and he pulled out a small plastic bag to put it away.

He then walked towards Mr. Alfonsi and crouched down next to him, pulling off the large gold ring with a fancy letter “A” engraved in it from his finger. He put it in a separate bag then continued to gather the smaller gold rings from the other members, making sure they were all dead in the process.

The last member left, when he’d finished with the rest of them, was a kid who looked to be about 15 years old.

It was such a shame that he had to join up with this gang.

He leaned down and started to pull the ring off the boy’s finger when the teen’s hand shot out to grab his bloody wrist.

He had to fight down the instinctive flinch of shock.

“P-please, I…I don’t—” Blood splattered from the teen’s mouth as he was cut off by his rattling coughs.

He narrowed his eyes.

It looked like his bullet had missed where he had intended and had instead impaled the boy through a lung.

“I..I don’t…..wan’ die…please…” the boy gasped.

His eyes were fixed on the smaller boy as he breathed, gaze still locked on the boy’s.

Don’t feel, it just gets in the way.

No.

You were made for this.

Wrong.

You shouldn’t feel bad for your targets.

Why not?

You follow your mission only.

He pulled a small knife from his belt.

“I’m…sorry,” He said. The boy’s eyes went wide as he slashed the knife across his throat. Blood splattered and started to pool on the floor. The boy’s eyes were still fixed on him. He stood up and put his knife away.

It was a small, underground, and still growing gang, but they were great at getting their hands on strange and illegal materials and weapons. It was just what The Foundation needed. And now, they didn’t need to pay them.

Mission accomplished.

————————-

Two months, twenty-three days, and eleven hours.

That meant eighty-four days and eleven hours.

In thirteen hours, it would be eighty-five.

Dick was getting nervous. How could he let Tim slip off the radar that long? Maybe he was just being… paranoid, or something.

Was that the right word to use? He didn’t know and couldn’t find it in him to care. He just knew that Tim had dropped off the radar for way too long, considering what happened beforehand.

But he’d have to push it back in his mind for a moment. He had things to do.

Dick jumped from rooftop to rooftop, making his way to some abandoned warehouse near the docks of Gotham. He was supposed to meet Jason there twenty-eight minutes ago, but had been on just about the opposite side of Gotham when Jason had called him.

Cautiously entering the warehouse through a glassless window, Dick silently leapt to the ground. He landed behind a large stack of crates and a couple of dusty shelves.

There was a single dim light illuminating what Dick guessed was the center of the dirty and smaller warehouse. He carefully picked his way around the edge of the stack of crates, half expecting to be shot at or attacked.

Neither occurred.

Jason was crouching under the light, investigating something on the floor—or maybe he was wounded.

Dick made his way over.

“Hey Hood! Sorry I’m late. Traffic was nuts out there,” he joked, grinning. Jason didn’t even look up.

“Apology accepted—just get over here,” huffed irritably.

There was something about the situation that made Dick feel inexplicably nervous.

He moved closer and crouched right next to his brother, asking, “What’s up? Are you hurt or something?” And he didn’t try to hide the concern laced in his voice.

Jason turned to look at him, apparently confused.

“What? No.” He gestured to whatever he was looking at, and added, “Just…look at this.”

Dick gave the floor his attention.

He hadn’t exactly noticed it before, due to how downright filthy this place was, but there was a huge puddle of dried blood directly in front of them.

Dick’s brows furrowed in confusion. Had Jason forgotten they lived in Gotham? Blood on the ground was a common thing. Sure, this was a lot, but it wasn’t anything special to Dick.

“Oh wow, blood!” Dick gasped in mock-surprise. “Never seen that before.”

He could feel more than see Jason’s eye-roll.

Jason held something out to his brother, hand clutched around something small.

Dick held out his hand and let Jason deposit whatever he was holding into his palm.

Only when he got a look at what the thing Jason had given him was did he understand Jason’s concerns with the blood.

In Dick’s hand was Tim’s metal Red Robin insignia, broken in half crudely, and mostly covered in blood.

For a moment, all he could do was stare down at it in disbelief, confusion, suspicion, and pain.

Tim must have run into someone or something…strong. Strong enough to snap his insignia in half.

Dick forced himself to tear his eyes away from the weight in his hand and shift his gaze back to the blood, which he realized was a lot. The dried puddle looked much bigger now that Dick knew where the blood came from.

But was it actually Tim’s? Or just some sort of set-up to make it look like Tim had bled that much?

Jason finally spoke.

“I almost missed it. I only noticed it when my foot ran into it. It was stuck there pretty good.” Jason said with a shrug, almost convincing Dick he was casual about the whole thing.

But Dick knew his little brother better. Jason was worried, and he was angry, and he probably didn’t feel like saying too much about it.

Dick’s eyes went back to Tim’s insignia.

“Are you sure it’s his blood? It could be a setup.” Dick remarked, hoping for the latter.

Jason shook his head.

“I dunno. DNA test?”

Dick looked at the blood on the insignia and tapped it against his fingers.

“I don’t know. Tim’s been missing for almost three months. We might be able to, but it depends on how old this is. DNA in dried blood usually only sticks around for three months max,” Dick said, feeling his heart sink with every possible set back. What if it was too late? What if Tim was dead?

Jason started to say something, but the sound of the lock on the large doors in front of them being opened caused the two vigilantes jump back into the shadows.

Dick was hidden behind the stack of crates he’d landed beside, clutching Tim’s insignia tight in his hands. No matter what, he refused to lose it. Jason was on the opposite side of the lit space between him and Dick, back pressed against a large, solid metal shelf.

Dick heard footsteps echo against the stone floor of the silent warehouse and crouched, just to be safe. He peeked through a small opening between the crates, trying to get a better look at the figure without being seen. He could only see him from the waist down.

The figure seemed to be wearing a long, black trench coat of some kind, tight black pants, and charcoal grey, steel-toed combat boots. He also had what looked like a dark, metallic red utility belt lined with silver metal tools and other various metal objects, including a line of bullets under his coat. That meant that he most likely had a gun. Dick put Tim’s insignia in his utility belt and pulled out his escrima sticks.

He glanced over at Jason, who had already gotten his gun ready. Dick then glanced back through the small opening. All he saw was black, and a tiny bit of metallic red. Dick soon realized that they were right in front of him. Dick stayed as still as he possibly could, and ducked a little when he heard a smaller, metal crate being picked up from off the top of the pile of crates he was behind.

He stood still as footsteps echoed farther and farther away from him. He nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but then tensed as he watched Jason step out from his hiding place and aim his gun at the stranger. The sound of a gun resonated throughout the building, and Dick moved out of his hiding place to see what the damage was.

“What the h***” Jason said, gun still raised at the figure. Dick looked at the figure. The bullet hadn’t hit him. In fact, it had stopped mid-air, about 3 inches away from his back.

The hooded figure was holding the crate under his right arm with surprising ease, despite its size. His other dark red gloved hand was hanging loosely at his side. He had frozen in his tracks but hadn’t made a move towards either of them. Dick tightened his grip on his escrima sticks but otherwise kept an outwardly calm composure.

The figure then turned slightly, not facing them, and not enough for Dick to get a good look at his face. He held out his hand and let Jason’s bullet drop into it.

“What’s in the crate?” Jason asked, gun still up. The figure didn’t respond, or turn his head. Instead, he examined and rolled the bullet through his fingers, as if it were some sort of valuable artifact or a piece of an important experiment. He then tossed it up in the air a couple of times. Dick narrowed his eyes.

Suddenly, his arm shot out in their direction, and the bullet came flying with it, as if it had been fired from a gun. Dick and Jason both moved, and the bullet went flying into the wall of the warehouse. They both stared at it in shock for a moment. Then Jason turned back to face the newly proclaimed enemy, gun at the ready.

“Hey, that wasn’t v…” Jason trailed off, looking around. “Where’d he go?”

“C'mon! He couldn’t have gone far!” Dick shouted to Jason, running out the door. He turned and looked around, looking for any sign of the stranger. Jason came behind him. There was nothing. No sign of him anywhere. Dick looked down and let out a sigh of defeat.

Then, he noticed something shiny and small, about the size of a quarter. He picked up the small rhomboidal object and turned it in his hands. There was some sort of symbol on it, but he couldn’t exactly make it out in the dark.

“Guess he’s gone?” Jason asked.

Dick nodded, slipping the thing into a pocket in his gauntlet for later.

“Yea, let’s get back to the cave.”

#inside my mind #angst #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #DC

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thewritewolf · 6 years

Text

Fictober Day 23 - This Is Not New, It Only Feels Like It

This is a sequel to Fictober Day 15 - Adrien is now dealing with the aftermath of the one sided reveal, and trying to figure out the best way to reveal himself to Marinette. Problem is, he’s become a bit of a mess around her...

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“This isn’t new, it only feels like it.”

Plagg’s words returned to Adrien as he stepped out of the car onto the steps of his school. Adrien isn’t ashamed to say he was a mess after realizing that he not only had discovered Ladybug’s true identity, but that he knew the person under the mask. All the little hints that had accumulated over the years - all the weird coincidences, all the stories that didn’t quite line up, all the near misses all crystalized together into one sudden revelation. His kwami had been frustratingly calm, bored even. But the more Adrien thought about what Plagg had said, the more it rang true.

None of this was new information - not really. It was only obliviousness on his part that had made him fail to see all the connections. Once he was literally handed proof unwittingly, it all came together. After a few days, he’d calmed down and he could take the opportunity to think about all of it. Of course Marinette was Ladybug. They were both awesome, creative, confident (usually), righteous, caring, beautiful ladies. Who else could have possibly been Ladybug than Marinette Dupain-Cheng, their everyday Ladybug?

After making the realization that he had told Ladybug that she was their everyday Ladybug, he had wanted to smack himself in the head and laugh uncontrollably at the same time.

The Gorilla drove away as Adrien stared at the ground, deep in thought. It was their first day back after the Christmas break and he felt that he was calm enough to talk to Marinette. But there was a problem: He had no idea how to go from here. Did he reveal his identity to her as civilians? He wasn’t sure how he could pull that off - she more often than not avoided being alone with him and when she was, could barely say a coherent sentence to him, which worried him. Did he wait until patrol? He had no idea how he was supposed to act normal around her now that he knew, and how would he explain any changed behavior? ‘Yeah, sorry, just found you are Ladybug and I’m really excited about that?’ Should he keep it to himself? Impossible. He felt like he’d explode if he didn’t get this off his chest sooner rather than later. Plagg, as usual, was completely unhelpful and just told him that it was ‘up to you’ on what he wanted to do.

“G-good morning, Adrien!”

He was yanked out of his own head by the very person he was ruminating over greeting him. When he looked up, shocked, she was watching him intently. Her entire body language was screaming at him that she was only barely avoiding running away. Despite her panic, she was holding her own admirably and had succeeded in not making a fool of herself.

Adrien, on the other hand…

“Good h-hello! I, uh, I mean, g-good morning to you! As well!” He rubbed the back of his neck as a blush spread across his face. This wasn’t going well at all.

Her face was a mask of confusion, but before he could embarrass himself further the bell rang and they rushed to class.

It was his hope that the start of class would offer him some respite, but instead he couldn’t focus on anything any of his teachers were saying. His thoughts were instead constantly occupied with the girl sitting just behind him, so close that he could just turn around and touch her if he wanted to. And there wasn’t much he wanted to do more, but he knew that would only get the both of them in trouble, and maybe even freak her out at the same time. No, he needed to approach this was tact and charm.

“Hey, girl,” he overheard Alya say, “you want to go get lunch with me?”

This is it! This is my chance!

Whipping around, Adrien plastered a smile on his face and asked, “Go me too?” He pinched his nose and said slowly, “Can I go too?”

The two girls blinked at him in startled confusion. Alya recovered first and grinned slyly. “Oh, shoot, girl! I forgot, I have a… thing!” She grabbed Marinette’s shoulder and pulled her close. “But hey, at least you’ll have Adrien for company~!” Before Marinette could form a reply, Alya had snagged an unsuspecting Nino by the elbow and hightailed it out of the building.

“I- Alya!” Her voice had a pleading edge as she called out to her friend’s back. Slowly, she turned to him, wide eyed and blushed when she realized he was staring at her. Realizing he might have just made himself look like a creep, he quickly looked away and felt his cheeks burn. So much for tact and charm. “So… uh, where do you, do you want to… eat?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Considering what he wanted to talk to her about, they needed to go somewhere that they wouldn’t be overheard. “Somewhere… private.” As her blush began to spread over her entire face, he hastily added, “That came out weird! What I meant was-”

“We… we could eat at my house? Take some snacks up to my room… if you, um, wanted privacy?”

“Yes! That would work perfectly, thank you!” He fell into step with her as they walked out of the school. She guided them into her home through the bakery front, where her mother was at the cash register.

“Hello, dear- Oh my! You didn’t tell me we would be expecting guests today!”

“It was sort of a last minute thing, mom, sorry.”

Sabine hurried up to greet Adrien. “Hello, sweetie. Eat your fill, both of you. Growing kids need plenty of food.” She turned back to Adrien and smiled. “Especially you dear. You look like skin and bones!”

After getting far more food than he had bargained for on his plate, they slipped upstairs to her room. It was much like he remembered from the last time he was here, although it seemed that she had removed some of the posters of him since her room had gotten televised on accident. He felt a pang of sadness at that and couldn’t figure out why. She took a seat on her swivel chair, drawing her legs up onto it as she set her plate on her lap. Adrien sat opposite her on the chaise, looking around the room casually. Marinette was the first to break the silence.

“S-so, Adrien… why did y-you want somewhere pr-private?” There was a slight tremor to her hand as she brought a treat up to her mouth.

Setting aside his plate for now, he took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. “Marinette… I know your secret.”

Marinette gasped, scandalized. “Did Alya tell you?! Or was it Nino? Alya said she hadn’t told him, but he always went along with her plans…”

“What?!” He shouted, only to cover his mouth and dart his eyes toward the floor. When he didn’t hear any approaching footsteps, he continued in a whisper shout, “Two people knew you were Ladybug before me?!”

She paled, then laughed nervously. “What? Me, Ladybug? Pft, that’s… silly.”

“Marinette…” He chided.

Sighing, she clenched her jaw and stood up, taking a step toward Adrien. The expression on her face was more like what he was used to from his lady, all stoic confidence and determination. If there was any doubt in his mind previously, there wasn’t anymore.

“I don’t know how you find out, Adrien, but you have to promise me that you’ll tell no one. Not only for my sake but for yours. I don’t want you to get put in danger because of me.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, bugaboo. I can take care of myself quite well.”

“Don’t call me buga-” Her eyes widened and she let out an adorable small gasp. “Chat…?” She whispered.

Nodding, he stood as well and leaned down to pull her into a hug, his arms linking together near her lower back. For a moment she was too shocked to reciprocate - whether because of the hug or the reveal, he couldn’t say - but she recovered and hugged him back tightly.

“How…?”

“I found your name on the blue one. It wasn’t that hard to figure out from there. Besides,” he pulled back enough for her to see his face and winked, “there’s only one person I know who makes scarves that good.”

She smiled and leaned her head on his chest, chuckling. “I can’t believe you were right there the whole time…” He hummed in agreement, but then remembered what she said earlier.

“Hey, Marinette? If you weren’t talking about your Ladybug secret, then what did you think I was talking about earlier?”

Her head suddenly whipping back up missed his chin by mere centimeters. “Oh, uh, nothing! Ha ha ha…” He raised an eyebrow. “Just, uh… that I’m... “ she lowered her voice to a whisper as she stared at her feet, “inlovewithyou.”

“Oh. Well that makes me feel better about this next part then.”

She looked back up at him curiously, but he didn’t have a chance to appreciate her cute expression of confusion before he was leaning in for the kiss. After a moment of surprise, she melted into him.

He wasn’t sure where they and their feelings stood in this mess of secret identities, but that was a problem for later. For now, he poured all his heart into this kiss and let everything else wash away.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrienette #fictober18 #ml fanfiction #my writing

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saey-bae · 7 years

Note

Could you do the rfa+saeran reacting to MC who doesn't like being touched unless it's small shows of affection like holding hands or ruffling their hair. I don't like physical contact even while cuddling I only hang onto someone's arm and I generally get made fun of for it since I don't hug people that I don't know too well and get called a robot for it. I hope this is okay.

this is more than ok babe,,, all good ok? 💜 no judgment or negative vibes allowed in the blog of paw

i’m sorry about the length or lack thereof bc this is kind of short, doll; this is actually one of my more serious hcs bc i’m so emotionally drained and it’s showing lol

edit: zen’s ended being pretty long? idk?

hc under the cut

check out my masterpost here

Yoosung:

when he first met you at the party, he tried to pull you in for a hug

bc, like, mc was so friendly in the chatroom, they must be super cuddly and snuggly, right ??

you ducked out of the way at the last moment

ouch, yoosung’s hp just took a -100000 hit

“mc…?”

you looked up at him with such nervous eyes, he instantly felt bad

“sorry- i’m not really used to–”

“no no, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain. i just got really excited… i’m sorry i didn’t ask first” he rubbed the nape of his neck sheepishly, his eyes fixed on the ground

he was totally inwardly kicking himself

damnit yoosung you blew it

but then a hand slipped in his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze

his violet eyes flickered up to you, and you smiled at him, withdrawing

“thanks for understanding… do you want to try again?” you held out your hand for him to shake ”hi yoosung, i’m mc. i’m really excited to meet you"

he’s blushing as he takes it and mumbles his own introduction, tripping over his words

how cute can you get?

Zen:

the two of you had been on a few dates and were now living together (as you refused to live in rika’s apartment)

although you were the warm, friendly mc zen was familiar with in the chatroom

you didn’t seem to like…. being near him

maybe there was a brief handhold here and there

a light peck on the cheek

but never more than that?

were you just….. not interested???

the thought was like a slap in the face, and it left him distracted throughout the entire day

was he rehearsing for his play? now he was thinking about you

was he having lunch with a co-star? now he was wondering how to talk to you when he got home

was he walking home? now he was running

he opened the front door and called out, “babe?”

you usually called back, but there was no response this time

he felt a cold sweat run down his back, and just as he was about to call you when

“zen, what are you doing at the door?”

“mc!”

he spun around and picked you up, groceries and all, ready to spin you around, but the uncomfortable look on your face stopped him

again, that prickly, hurt feeling in his heart made itself known as he put you down slowly “do you not… like me touching you, mc?”

“well…”

the two of you had a long talk, right there at the doorway, the groceries you picked up from the store left forgotten

and by the end of it, zen understood

he understood you related physical affection with a very deep love, and that it meant a lot to you

and zen also knew that he would earn that badge of honour someday, wherein he would be able to touch and hold you freely

not that day, but some day

Jaehee:

jaehee is bae

she understands that you don’t like being touched, and she’ll keep her distance if you ask her to

SHE. GOT. MAD. R E S P E C T. FOR. YOU.

ya girl is always down for handholding and the occasional snuggle

the two of you could be walking down a busy street and she’ll ask out of the blue

“can we please hold hands?”

those doe eyes of hers as;djgfsdkf

can’t say no to that

the two of you clasp your hands together, fingers laced loosely as you swing your joined hands

definitely not afraid to show people that you’re hers in public ok??

will stand up for you if you’re too timid to tell people to keep their hands to themselves

part babe, part bodyguard?

like, she’ll Protect you and be your human shield when there are unwanted touchy-feely people around

even if it’s zen

especially if it’s seven

jaehee is bae

Jumin:

was very, very frustrated when the two of you first started dating

you weren’t comfortable enough to give him more affection than hand holding

he’s been deprived of physical affection for so long and now his s/o, who was supposed to give him some sort of affection, was denying him of it?

that wouldn’t do

and so, he does what he does best: he confronts you about the problem, then comes up with a contract

it’s actually so c u t e though??

it stated that the two of you had to make an affection coupon book for one another every month with a minimum of ten coupons per month

he took it super seriously, too; like…. he made you sign it and took it to his lawyers

and while you struggled with the coupon book at first

you eventually…. got used to it

your coupon books went from 10 coupons, to 12, to 15, to 20 in a span of seven months

and all the while, you became more comfortable with jumin until touches were shared freely

but the two of you still wrote coupons to one another for special occasions :)

to jumin, those coupons were priceless and he kept every one of them, even after he cashed them out

Seven:

he’s so hurt by the fact that you don’t necessarily like touching him, even though you’ve been dating for a few months now

like……….why not?

is he not cute? is he not cuddly? is he not lovable?

you need to sit down with him and set it straight a few times and reassure him bc this boi has low self-esteem

but he learns and he does respect your personal space

sometimes it’ll slip his mind, and he’ll try to hug you

but then he’d immediately apologize afterwards, and lowkey avoid you for the rest of the day bc he’d feel guilty and embarrassed

and as cute as it is, it makes you feel guilty for having him feel guilty

the two of you spend a long time apologizing to each other it’s like canadians trying to argue

otherwise, a lot of hand holding bc he’s pretty touch-starved and he craves that mineral your touch

when you finally grow comfortable enough to let him hug you at random, he still asks first

what hasn’t changed?

lots of hand holding

Saeran:

this boi isn’t really used to touches either, so he doesn’t really notice

until he hears one of your friends jokingly call you a robot

instant r a g e

listen,,, he gives you a load of crap everyday

but he’s the only one who gets to do that

when the two of you get home, he’s doting

not physically, but emotionally– which is a little strange, because your boi is usually a little more quiet, a little more subtle

but it’s like he’s trying to make up for what happened

“saeran, hey, it’s okay” you stop him as he offers to go bake you cookies “i know what you’re trying to do. it’s fine, people call me a robot more… often than you think”

he kind of slumps, then takes a seat on the couch next to you

“i hate that word. robot,” he mutters “you’re not a robot. that doesn‘t describe you at all”

a few choice words follow after that, but writer wants to keep this in the G rating so she’s not gonna add them

you smile, taking his hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze

“thanks. the only thing that matters to me is what you think”

he smiles back, then ruffles your hair

the two of you didn’t need physical affection to appreciate one another, and the mutual understanding only strengthened your relationship

#mysme #mystic messenger #mysme headcanon #mysmes #mystic messenger headcanon #mysme yoosung #mysme zen #mysme jaehee #mysme jumin #mysme 707 #mysme saeran #mm #cheritz #rfa

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mybukz · 4 years

Text

Fiction: Drilling Down by Aimee Lee

Image by Rudi Fargo on Unsplash

“Morning, Dr. Leong,” Teck Wai’s dental assistant greeted him as he entered his clinic from the back entrance. The smell of disinfectant punched through the air. He never got used to it despite running this surgery for 15 years. It reminded him he had more than ten grueling hours of melodramatic patients, pointless small talks and back-breaking procedures ahead.

He gave his assistant, Gayathri, a quick nod, and entered his office. Through his peripheral vision, he saw a middle-aged woman in a ridiculously elaborate outfit peeking into the treatment room. Datin Hayati was a dental cerewet disorder. She carried a bejeweled hand-held mirror to identify flaws invisible to the naked eye. Teck Wai loathed her, but put on his best chairside manners for this fat cash cow. He would need two cups of coffee if he was going to start his day with her.

He shut the door of his office behind him and flipped his Macbook open. A window with a lewd video from last night popped up at him, and he hastily closed it. His friend and business partner, Vincent, had sent it with the subject line: Syok. Must watch! A grainy cell phone footage showed a young woman sprawled unconscious on a hotel bed, the cameraperson slowly removing her clothes and fondling her. Teck Wai wasn’t sure if the video was real or staged, but it didn’t stop him from enjoying it.

Finally at 8 in the evening, after two molar root canals, countless orthodontic follow ups and a tricky veneer case, he put his instruments down for the day. It was a Friday night, and he usually met up with Vincent at a karaoke place in Kuchai Lama for beers. Vincent was Teck Wai’s classmate in university way back in 1995, and while they came from drastically different backgrounds, they hit it right off at dental school, and had been firm friends ever since. Teck Wai’s parents had to make withdrawal claims from their EPF to put him through university, while Vincent strutted confidently into the orientation hall with a beautifully pressed shirt and a Patek Philippe glistening on his wrist. When they graduated, Vincent had given him a huge loan to get his clinic up and running, in exchange for a share in the business. Although Vincent passively reaped in profits from his running of the clinic, Teck Wai still felt indebted to his friend’s generosity. It took him many years to arrive at this point, but these days when they were together, Teck Wai no longer felt insecure of his own humble beginnings. After all, he had convinced his parents to move out of their shabby home in Rasah New Village to a trendy 3-storey bungalow in Seremban 2. Like Vincent, he had a sports car, several luxury watches and a Callaway golf set he never touched.

He circled the shoplots three times before he found an empty parking slot. He was growing resentful of these new bubble tea and dessert places in Kuchai Lama, and all these youngsters and their Myvis double- and triple-parking everywhere. As he was about to turn off the engine, his phone buzzed in his pocket—a text from Vincent.

Bro, sorry lah I have to ffk today. Meeting up with A, it read. ‘A’ was a twenty-three year-old woman Vincent had swiped right on and been texting for two weeks. Apparently things have gotten hot and heavy digitally, and they were ready to meet in person. This was where Teck Wai drew a line. He had been married for nearly 20 years. Of course like any man, he would occasionally visit a massage parlour for a B2B, or sit with flirtatious Vietnamese girls at a karaoke. But he would never have a mistress; that would be cheating.

Lucky bastard, he texted back.

Face 7/10. Boobs 10/10 came the reply.

It was no fun drinking alone so he decided to head home. Teck Wai and his family lived in a comfortable bungalow in Bukit Jalil. He bought the house 10 years ago, when his wife, Poh Yi, was pregnant with their second child. She had insisted that they would need the space. The mortgage came up to be more than RM 10,000 a month. Teck Wai reluctantly added this to his growing list of monthly commitments. Since his wife had worked so hard to marry into wealth, she didn’t think she should ever have to lift a finger to work again. Shortly after they moved into this beautiful, spacious place, Poh Yi suffered a miscarriage. Their daughter, Serene, remained an only child ever since.

Inside the house, Poh Yi and Serene were at the dinner table, finishing up their meal. He often worked late at the clinic, his dental assistant having to tapau a greasy pack of chap fan for him. They looked up in surprise. The Indonesian maid brought out a bowl of steaming white rice and a pair of chopsticks.

Serene whipped out her phone and started to watch a series of 15-second dance videos, each with music more annoying than the last. Teck Wai cleared his throat. He had not had a conversation unrelated to patients or investments in a long time. And he definitely had not had anything in common with his own daughter for years. It seemed like yesterday he had taken her and her friends for badminton, tennis and swimming. He didn’t know where all this time went, and suddenly she was already 16 and no longer took any notice of him, other than to ask for pocket money. Even so, she often solicited her mother to do it on her behalf.

“How are your studies, Serene?” he asked. It was a question his father often asked him over the dinner table when he was 16. He always indulged his father with how well he did in class, and how he measured up to the brightest students in school.

“Fine,” she replied, not bothering to look up from her phone, her thumb repetitively swiping its screen. He looked dejectedly at his wife, willing her to break the ice. She hardly seemed to notice, as she moved towards the living room, and tuned in to some Korean drama or other on her iPad.

“So tell me. What has been going on with you? Your friends?” Teck Wai was determined to have a conversation that lasted more than 5 seconds with his daughter.

“Fine,” she repeated.

“Don’t you have anything more to say to your daddy than just fine?”

She looked up from her phone and rolled her eyes. “You are never home, why do you suddenly care now?” she said without a hint of anger, so softly he was not prepared for the venom her words packed. Also, when did she start speaking with an American accent? That bloody international school. He never should have sent her there in the first place.

***

The next day in his office, Teck Wai was still haunted by his chilling, but perhaps unsurprising, fight with Serene. He couldn’t even call it a fight, there had been no yelling or display of emotions on his part, she simply got up from her chair and went back up to her room. The house and the dinner table were full, but there he sat all alone.

He didn’t think it was that long ago when he felt like he was the most important person in Serene’s life. She made Father’s Day cards for him every year for the longest time, and called him the best daddy in the world when he brought her to Hong Kong Disneyland and Universal Studios in Singapore. He always gave her what she wanted, and now he couldn’t even get more than a cold ‘I’m fine’ from her. He just wanted to know what was going on in her life, was that too much to ask?

Suddenly a thought struck him. These teenagers. They put everything online these days, don’t they? Only a couple of weeks ago, she took a selfie with him on her phone that digitally applied horrendous make-up on him. It made him look a little like Datin Hayati, if he were to be honest. He turned on his Macbook and typed her name into a Google search bar. It didn’t take long to find a blog with the title ‘Not-Your-Typical-Girl’ splashed across its home screen. In the About Me page was a selfie of his daughter pouting, clad in a skimpy black top he had never seen her in. ‘ENFJ, Gryffin-whore, #wokeAF’, read her bio. He had no idea what any of those words meant. Serene revealed quite a bit of herself, both physically as well as emotionally. Her latest blog entry, from only a week ago, read:

OMFG - X surprised me at school today!! He came to pick me up after school and parked his bright red Mazda convertible, and parked right in front of the school gates. There was LITERALLY a small commotion as everyone was wondering who the hell’s sports car it is. To be honest, I was a little embarrassed but also a little proud. Like, HELL YEAH that’s MY MAN!

Anyways, X said that he had got us tickets to watch Avengers in Mid Valley at 3PM. I told him there was no way I was going to go to MV in my school uniform, it’s so embarrassing! And oh my gosh, would you guys believe it?! This sweetest man reached into the backseat of his car and pulled out a ZARA paper bag with a beautiful dress inside. He really spoils me. Of course once we got to our usual quiet parking lot in The Gardens, I had to reward him, and OBVIOUSLY we never made it to the movies lolz ;)

Before Teck Wai could read any other entry, there came a knock on his door. “Coming,” he responded as he adjusted his facemask and slipped on a pair of gloves. He greeted his patient half-heartedly and mechanically picked up his handpiece and started prepping a large cavity on his patient’s lower molar. His mind was still on the entry that he had read on his daughter’s blog. Who was this supposed boyfriend X? He didn’t have much to go on, but could deduce that it was an older, and apparently wealthy boy with a sports car. What did she mean by rewarding him? He didn’t care how mature his daughter thought she was, in his opinion 16 is way too young to be getting physical with boys - especially with college boys! He had no idea how much his daughter knew about sex and birth control, he had just assumed that these were girls’ talk, and Poh Yi should have had it with her. But then again, after her miscarriage, Poh Yi has been increasingly distant with Serene. She much preferred spending time with her friends, having high teas and shopping with his credit card every other day. The only time she ever perks up with regards to her daughter is when someone remarks that they must be sisters.

He felt the tip of his dental bur slip and nicked the inside of his patient’s cheek. The patient did not notice but blood started to ooze from the cut. He clenched his jaw in frustration, and saw his assistant, Gayathri roll her eyes as she moved the suction tip to the small pool of blood in the patient’s mouth. He then rushed the procedure along and filled the tooth without his usual meticulousness to it, his heart was just not in it today. As his patient leaned over to gargle and spit, he noticed the blood “Eh doctor, why bleeding ah?”.

“Uh, your gums. You should floss regularly,” Teck Wai answered, already making his way back to his office.

He went down a rabbit hole reading his daughter’s blog. She wrote frequently and most of the entries were pretty mundane. They were usually about friend dramas at school, or pictures and videos of some Korean boy band or other. X made his first appearance in the blog only about 3 months ago, in some older entries Serene had referenced numerous boys - B, R, Z and many other initials, that she had been chatting with on Tinder. It was the same dating app that Vincent uses to meet women online. On more than one occasion, he had whipped out his phone and started swiping furiously at his phone, showing a series of women’s profiles to Teck Wai.

“See this one, this type of woman is my favourite. Confirm got daddy issues, little bit insecure, always want to impress in bed. Syok man!” Vincent would remark. Teck Wai felt sick to his stomach, imagining that someone somewhere was also saying something similar about Serene. He had to find out who this X is, he just needed to know. Of course, he would have no objections to Serene having a boyfriend, he thought of himself as a modern 21st century father, and accepted that she wouldn’t be a child forever. But he would not tolerate sneaking around after school and doing God know what in a parking lot. He would not be kept in the dark.

He had to strategise. It was nearly impossible to get his daughter to speak to him about her day, moreover something as personal as this. She would be mortified if she knew that he had found her blog, and read about her escapades which might or might not be sexual. He shuddered at the thought. If X frequently picked her up from school, then he could probably get a glimpse of who this boy was. Maybe he could find out where he went to college, and try to speak with him there, man-to-man. He knew he couldn’t wait around Serene’s school in his Porsche, it was much too conspicuous and she would recognise his car at once.

“Gayathri, can I borrow your car?” he asked his assistant during lunchtime. It was an old navy Proton Wira, the perfect camouflage that he would need. He knew that she often walked to the nearby shops for lunch, and never needed her car at this hour.

She was quite taken aback at the request, “Ummm..”

“Don’t worry lah, I will help you put petrol,” he added quickly. He also knew that no one would ask too many questions about free money. Gayathri passed him her car keys, albeit hesitantly.

He drove her old car towards Serene’s school, and on the way reminisced about how decades ago as a new dentist in government service he drove a Proton Wira, not unlike this one. Vincent was the one that convinced him to upgrade to a BMW, he said that which doctor would be seen driving around in a Proton? At the time, he was trying to save up to repay his PTPTN loan, but Vincent was right - his car had to reflect his current social status. Only wealth can attract more wealth, right? But what he felt was only loans attracting more loans. First it was his old BMW, then it was the cost of setting up his business, his extravagant wedding dinner, their first house, Serene’s arrival, a bigger house, a flashier car. Before he knew it, he was 45 years old, stuck in a hamster wheel of back-breaking work for long, gruelling hours. His only joy being increasingly expensive toys.

He parked Gayathri’s car under a tree near Serene’s school and waited. He didn’t see any red sports cars, that would have been hard to miss. He caught sight of his daughter with a group of friends, and they seemed to be headed towards the shops. No surprise visit from X today then, Teck Wai thought. He was simultaneously relieved and disappointed - he wasn’t sure what he wanted to achieve from this stalking, and was glad that he didn’t have to face the upcoming confrontation just yet. He continued doing this everyday with Gayathri’s car for 2 weeks, when he finally saw a red Mazda MX-5 parked at the school gates one day.

His heart raced, he wanted to walk right up there and speak to this young man right away. He had to be careful, it was 1.00PM and the last bell would ring anytime soon and Serene would see him accosting her boyfriend. The window of the Mazda rolled down, as the driver’s hand stuck out, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. Disgusting, Teck Wai thought, a smoker? There was nothing he hated more as a dentist than a smoker. He snapped himself out of his judgment, and slowly drove by the Mazda, with the windows rolled down he could perhaps get a glimpse of the boyfriend.

To his horror, this was no college boy. Despite the modern haircut, and trendy clothes, the Mazda owner must have been in his forties, perhaps even close to his age! What in seven hells was Serene doing with this man, this predator? It cannot be, his sweet baby daughter, his only child. His blood began to boil, and in his rage failed to see an oncoming car at an intersection, and nearly crashed his assistant’s car.

***

For the next several weeks, Teck Wai was completely consumed by the thought of his daughter being exploited by a much older man. He couldn’t get the image of this man, this ‘X’ out of his head. His narrow, untrustworthy face, his lecherous hand all over Serene, his disgusting smoker’s breath. He felt nauseated at the thought of this, and had lost his appetite, he felt his regular surgical scrubs loosen. He was distracted both at work and at home, imagining possible scenarios of confronting his daughter over and over again. There was no point discussing this with Poh Yi; she had a terrible temper and would definitely widen the rift between them and their daughter.

His friend Vincent has to get in touch with him, but he had been too distraught to engage in a proper conversation. Several days ago, Vincent had sent him a photo of several of their buddies from university at their regular karaoke bar. They were all flushed with alcohol and were surrounded by half a dozen scantily clad young girls. ‘You are missing out, bro!’ read the accompanying text. Only a couple weeks ago, this would have been a completely normal Friday night for him, and now he felt absolutely disgusted by himself. Were his friends and him so different from Serene’s boyfriend? But surely, none of the Vietnamese girls who worked at the karaoke were as young?

One day a new patient walked into his clinic, a man who looked to be in his late 30s or early 40s. He was extraordinarily well-groomed, with perfectly coiffed hair and overpowering, unmistakably expensive cologne. The patient perched his Ray-Bans on top of his head, and reached out to offer Teck Wai a firm and confident handshake. Teck Wai was taken aback, it was rare for patients to shake his hand. It is unusual, if not a little bit rude to shake a gloved hand. He peeled off his gloves, and reached for a new pair. He motioned for the patient to take a seat, as he glanced on the patient’s file that Gayathri had just laid down on the desk.

‘Xie Jason’ it read, he was a new patient and had no prior record. That’s an unusual surname in KL, Teck Wai thought. He scrutinised the patient who was now sitting docile on his dental chair. Was this X? Was this the man that he had been vividly picturing himself strangling for weeks? He had been playing it out in his imagination for so long that he had distorted the real image of X from the afternoon outside Serene’s school. Now that he was possibly right in front of him, Teck Wai couldn’t even be sure if it was really him. He felt a burning sensation in his ears, he clenched his jaws under his surgical mask and calmly asked the patient, “Yes, what can I do for you today?” A stench of halitosis and tobacco escaped the patient’s mouth as he answered “Just cleaning, doctor.” Surely there was no mistaking that this was the cursed boyfriend that he saw?

He didn’t think that his hatred for this vile being could get any stronger, but when he peered into the patient’s mouth with his probe and mouth mirror, it was a dentist’s worst nightmare. The inner surfaces of his teeth were completely stained and there was nothing more stubborn than tobacco stains. He set to work wordlessly as he removed the heavy chunks of calculus a fleck at a time, each time his nostrils completely attacked by the putrid stench. The patient got comfortable and settled himself deeper into the dental chair and pulled out his phone. He opened up a bright pink app with a flame on it that was somewhat familiar to Teck Wai. Soon it became clear that it was the same dating app that Vincent had often used in front of him. Teck Wai glanced at the patient’s phone as he could see picture after picture of attractive young women pouting back at him. He felt the tip of his scaler slide as he was momentarily distracted and probed too deep into the patient’s periodontal pocket. “Ouch! Watch it!” he winced.

Teck Wai was seething with anger and disgust at this man, for not only taking advantage of his 16 year old but also clearly cheating on her by preying on other young women. He made very little progress with the cleaning, looked up at the clock - it was 7 in the evening. He told Gayathri that he could finish up the case on his own, and she could leave. After he heard the surgery’s door click shut, he turned to the patient and said “I have spotted a few cavities which look quite deep. I would need to give you some nitrous oxide to relax, okay?”. The patient nodded as he pulled the mouthpiece over his face.

He could feel the patient’s body begin to relax and his eyelids drooped, he didn’t protest when Teck Wai bound his wrists tightly to the dental chair with latex gloves. He was only half conscious and the dentist held a pair of forceps against his upper incisors. Teck Wai gripped the tooth firmly and began rotating expertly for several seconds before the tooth luxated from the patient’s jaw. He dropped the tooth onto the metal tray with a delicate clink, and moved on to the next tooth, and the next. Some of them slipped easily like popping pills out of their blister packs. The molars were trickier as they had thick, long roots that anchored strongly to the alveolar bone. He heard several roots fracture, as the patient groaned in his semi-consciousness, but he couldn’t care less, this was no ordinary procedure. When he finished removing every single tooth, he laid down his forceps and looked at the gory pile of teeth piled up on the tray. Some dental student would be very lucky to have this complete set, he thought. He stepped back and looked at X, who only 20 minutes ago swaggered unassumingly into his surgery, flawlessly put together. It was a stark contrast with the now-edentulous patient, his mouth collapsed and bright red, the front of his chest covered in blood and saliva.

“Not looking so handsome now, are you Romeo?”

***

Bio

Aimee Lee is a Sri Petaling girl who grew up sipping pasar malam bubble tea before gentrification and fancy tea rooms took over the local area. She practiced dentistry before pursuing a Masters in Public Health at the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine under a Chevening scholarship. She now works in scholarly publishing, developing editorial content for public health and medical journals. In her spare time, she empties her bank account buying books and runs a quarantine book club at @i.read.and.drink.tea on Instagram. She lives in London with her husband.

#short story #Aimee Lee #drilling down #malaysian fiction

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avintagekiss24 · 7 years

Text

A Walk In The Clouds

So I don’t know what this is, or what it will be. I’m sure I had some sort of plan for it when I wrote it, but since it’s been sitting in a folder since May, whatever “plan” I had for it has disappeared into the deepest corner of my mind, lmao. I found it this morning and thought I’d share :)

The air is thick with heat. The sun beams down on the threesome as they huddle around the old, red pickup. Rick turns his head slightly, cutting his blue eyes toward the older couple passing by a few feet behind them. He eyes them the entire time as they pass, causing the old man to raise his hand slightly. Rick gives him a head nod and only turns away after they pass. Daryl slams shells into his pump action shotgun before shoving more shells into his pocket. He tucks the large weapon into his arm and brings it up to his eye line, slightly, closing his left eye as he peers down the barrel.

Michonne stands next to him, shoving her pearl handled, hand carved .45 colts into the rim of her white, skin tight dress pants. She throws on her fitted white jacket over her black satin blouse and buttons the one button just under her breasts. Her nude heels click on the pavement as she moves around, grabbing extra clips to fill her pockets. She reaches into the old truck, grabbing a black ski mask and slips it over her face. She grabs an empty duffle bag and throws it over her shoulder. She’s ready.

Rick tucks his AR 15 underneath his arm before he shrugs another empty duffle bag over his shoulder. He looks up into the sky, squinting a little into the light. He then scans the opposite side of the rather vacant parking lot. It’s a quiet day. A good day. A good day for a bank robbery. He turns back toward his partners, “We ready?”

They both nod, “As ready as we’ll ever be.” Daryl pipes up, standing up straight and rolling his shoulders.

“Alright, five minutes.” Rick says lowly as Michonne lifts his wrist, setting the timer on her Apple watch, “You ready baby?”

She nods again and he loops his arm around her small waist, pulling her into him. Their lips crash against one another and her arms go limp at her sides. This man will be the death of her. Their lips smack as Rick pushes her body into his harder, almost forgetting what they were actually there to do. Daryl takes a few steps away from them, keeping his eyes out to the street as the non-suspecting public continue on about their day, “Alright, alright,” He scoffs after a moment, “We got stuff to do. Jesus is waiting.”

Michonne laughs against her husbands’ lips before backing away from him. She turns immediately and grabs the back of Daryl’s leather vest to pull him closer. She plants her lips firmly on his, smacking on him loudly before she pulls away. She laughs again as he wipes at his mouth with his plaid sleeve, “I’m telling Paul.” He grumbles.

“Tell him.” She flirts, “You were mine first. I love you guys.”

Both men murmur their affections back at her before Daryl stuffs his ear with his Bluetooth ear piece. He pulls out his phone quickly, tapping his thumb on their fourth partners’ name before he shoves the sleek phone back into his pocket. It rings only once.

“Ready?”

“We’re ready.” Daryl answers.

Paul “Jesus” Rovia sits a mile away in an empty office building. He peers out the window down on the street before he flips open his laptop, pulling up the cryptic black internet. His fingers tap at the keyboard as Daryl waits patiently, “Hacking now,” Paul calls a little absentmindedly as his eyes scan the green letters and numbers that flow along his computer screen.

“Michonne kissed me, babe.” Daryl says coolly, cutting his dark eyes toward the femme fatale and smirking.

Jesus chuckles quickly, “She owes me one too, then.”

“That is not the answer I was looking for.” Daryl answers, rolling his eyes.

“Got ‘em,” Jesus cuts in, stopping the easy banter between them, “Go.”

Daryl flips his fingers toward the back of the bank and the three of them take off in action. Daryl and Rick throw on their ski masks, covering their faces, as they rush toward the back of the bank. Michonne runs around to the front of the building, pulling out her .45’s as soon as she rounds the corner.

“Back door code is 4783.” Jesus relays to Daryl as his grabs the cell phone sitting to his right. Jesus clicks over to Michonne’s name and types out his message, his finger hovering over the send button.

Daryl punches the code and the door pops open. He throws it open and allows Rick to enter first, “We’re in.”

Jesus slams his finger on the send button and drops the phone into his lap, his fingers tapping on the keyboard once more. Michonne’s watch buzzes against her wrist, with one word flashing on the screen – NOW. She pulls the ski mask down over her face and throws open the front doors, raising her weapons instantly. She fires off one shot into the air, causing the patrons and workers to jump and duck out of fear, “Hands up! Now!” She screams, her eyes darting around the four patrons and the three tellers behind the counter, “Nobody move.”

Rick and Daryl rush down the hall, hearing Michonne’s gunshot as they come to another locked door, “7620, lobby door code.” Jesus relays again.

Within seconds, Rick and Daryl appear behind the counter, their weapons raised as the tellers’ heads all turn in their direction, “Ah, ah, ah,” Rick calls lowly toward the young brunette, her fingers inching to the panic button underneath the counter, “Not so fast sweetheart. Hands up.”

Daryl crosses behind the three tellers to the other side, where another locked door stands. They keep their weapons trained on the tellers as Michonne backs up to the doors, turning quickly to lock them before she whips back around to the customers, “We’re going to do this real fast so listen the fuck up.”

“Come on man.” Daryl grunts, squeezing his hands on his shotgun as he peers at the young woman before him.

“I’m working on it, hang on. Hang on…” Jesus replies as his fingers continue to tap.

Michonne shrugs the duffle bag off her shoulder and throws it to the ground, “I want your wallets, your jewelry, your phones in this bag.” The three men and one woman hesitate, causing her to fire off another shot, “I meant now! Now, now, now!” She screams.

Rick cuts his eyes to Michonne quickly. Seeing her like this turns him on something fierce. She always insists on gussying up when they pull a job, pulling out her most expensive clothing and jewelry. He watches her before he turns his attention back to the brunette in front of him, openly weeping as he points his large weapon at the side of her head. The patrons on Michonne’s side of the counter scurry to the bag, throwing their possessions into the duffle bag as she watches them keenly.

“Listen, you don’t have to do this honey. Please.” A blonde says cautiously as she eyes the tall, dark skinned gangster standing over her.

“Don’t be a hero, alright lady?” Michonne answers coolly, “Just put your shit in the bag.”

The blonde lets out a sob, but covers her mouth quickly as Michonne whips her head back in her direction, “Stop crying. Grow up.” She growls.

“5991, then down the hall to the left.” Jesus says to Daryl as his finger trails along the map of the bank to his left.

Daryl slams his thumb against the numbers and a soft click sounds as the door unlocks. He slams his body into the door and rolls down the hallway, his feet stepping one in front of the other as he keeps his shot gun eye level, “1316 for the next door. I’m getting started on the vaults.”

Daryl punches in the code and pushes through the door, coming to stand in front of three large wall vaults. Pay dirt. Back out in the lobby, Michonne stands stoic, the sun glinting off the pearl handles of her guns. She holds them down toward the terrified customers as they huddle on the floor, their hands over their heads. She scans them quickly, rolling her eyes as the blonde continues to cry. She flicks her eyes toward her husband and she swallows quickly. Goddamn, he looks good. She watches as he moves behind the three tellers slowly, his gun pointed at their backs as they empty the registers in the duffle bag.

He's casual, as usual. His old jeans are tight on his hips and thighs, but they are worn to all hell. His torso if covered in his favorite, even older plaid shirt and his tan jacket. His greying hair is slicked back but curls at his ears; his beard still dark but freshly shaven down. His old boots click on the linoleum floor as he paces, his eyes watching the three women carefully. She could fuck him right here, right now. She loves him and that gun of his, although, he left his trusty Colt Python behind this time. He flicks his eyes up and they link once more. He blinks slowly, disappearing for just a moment as he passes behind the middle teller, but then the staring contest begins again.

Michonne’s breaths are slow and even and calm, as she watches him move slowly. He licks his pink lips out of habit and she could burst. Holy hell. She breaks her eye contact with him long enough to eye her watch, the five minutes ticking away quickly, “Come on Daryl.”

“9406, last one.” Jesus says into the phone, slamming his laptop shut and shoving it into his backpack. He grabs the maps and the rest of his tools and throws them into his bag, throwing it over his shoulder before he moves out of the abandoned office quickly, “I’m moving to the street.”

Daryl throws the bundles of money into the now heavy duffle bag, “Alright, two minutes.”

Jesus skips down the back stairs, pulling on a pair of black latex gloves and rolls out into the bright day, keeping his head low as he shoves his headphones into his ears and connects them to his phone. He heads to the small white Honda and throws his backpack into the passenger seat before he falls into the driver side. He turns the key and pulls away from the curb, screeching the tires a bit, “On my way.”

Daryl throws the last of the cash into the duffle bag and throws it over his shoulder, grabbing his shot gun and pushing back out into the hallway. Michonne flicks her eyes back to her watch and then back on the customers, then back to Rick. One minute and counting. She backs up to the front doors and Rick grabs the bag from the brunette and heads for the door leading back to the employee entrance. This is the hard part. The getting away. Michonne’s chest starts to rise and fall quicker, her heart beating against her chest as the seconds tick away. 30 seconds. Daryl runs to the back door and props it open with his foot as he keeps his eyes glued down the hallway.

Rick opens the door behind him and presses his back to it, keeping his gun trained on the tellers as they all wait for their sign. Ten seconds. Jesus flashes by the bank, laying on the horn as he passes. It’s go time. Rick slams his finger on the trigger, spraying bullets toward the ceiling to disorient the patrons as Michonne whips around to unlock the front doors. Screams erupt from the bank workers and the customers as Michonne fires off a few rounds before she slams out onto the street. Rick barrels down the hallway and slams his body into the door, throwing it open as he rushes behind Daryl toward the truck.

Michonne turns the corner, pushing through a group of people as they turn toward the bank at all of the sudden noise. Jesus throws open the passenger door and barely waits until she’s inside before he peels away from the curb once more. She throws her bag into the back seat and rips off her ski mask before slamming her hands into the pair of gloves Jesus throws in her lap, “I got her! We’re headed toward the highway.” He screams out loud so Daryl can hear him through the phone as he squeals through the streets of Atlanta.

Daryl throws the old truck into drive and slams his foot on the gas before Rick can even get the door closed. He fishtails out of the parking lot and out onto the street in the opposite direction of Michonne and Jesus. Rick slams another clip into his AR 15 and begins scanning the streets, waiting for those all too familiar sirens to sound. He picks up the noise in the distance and turns in his seat, placing his back against the dash as he rolls down the window. He’s ready. A police vehicle squeals around the corner behind them and without hesitation, Rick thrusts his torso out of the window and begins spraying the vehicle with bullets.

Jesus blows through red lights as Michonne pulls out her own high powered rifle, readying herself for a fight of their own. They hear faint sounds of pops in the air, knowing that the pesky boys in blue have found her husband and her dearest friend. She jerks forward as Jesus slams on the breaks, white clouds of smoke billowing from the tires. He makes an abrupt right turn just as a cruiser spots them but has to immediately slam on the breaks again to avoid a construction crew. Michonne climbs out of the window, bringing the high-powered weapon up to her eye line as Jesus throws the little Honda into reverse.

He reaches over and places his hand on the passenger seat as he cranes his neck to watch for oncoming cars. He barrels back though the intersection, keeping his hand steady on the wheel as cars slam on their breaks or jerk their steering wheels to avoid him. Chaos erupts around them as Michonne lights up the oncoming police cruiser, the sound of her bullets bouncing off of the surrounding buildings as they whiz toward their mark. She showers the cruiser in bullets, forcing them to slow down as the bullets puncture their vehicle.

“Inside!” Jesus calls out.

Michonne instantly recoils back into the vehicle, just as he jerks the wheel to the left, sending the car around in a half circle. She shoves her hands into the dash and the ceiling as she holds on, her and Jesus’ hair whipping around them as the car whirls around. He slams the Honda into drive and slams his foot into the gas, sending them speeding toward the highway once more. She hangs herself back out the window and sprays more bullets into the air. They’re almost there.

Rick continues his assault on the police car behind them, his bullets finally starting to slow it down. Within an instant, a large cloud of smoke billows from the cruiser as fluid splashes down onto the pavement. The cruiser slows to a stop as the red truck pulls away, drawing them toward the highway. Rick ducks back inside to slam another clip into his gun as Daryl tunes the scanner to pick up the police radio. Pull back! Pull back! Suspects are armed with high grade weapons! Pull back! The last thing the mayor needs is a city full of dead officers and civilians. Almost there.

The white Honda and the red Chevy tear out of the city and hit the highway, both heading toward the meet up spot. They’ve bought some time, maybe five or ten minutes, before the police will begin their hunt again, now that they’re out of the city. They both scream toward Gwuinett county, making the half hour drive in almost twenty. Jesus and Michonne take an exit and wind through the city, Michonne’s eyes cast toward the sky to try and spot a news or police chopper. Jesus beats his fingers against the steering wheel as he moves them through the downtown, finally pulling down an alley and into the abandoned garage.

Rick and Daryl make the same exit just minutes later, pulling into the garage just as Michonne and Jesus are filling the trunks of the Dodge Charger and Lexus IS with their loot and guns. The two men waste no time. They park next to the Honda and help the other two fill their new getaway cars, Jesus breaking off to wipe down the Honda and the Chevy to rid them of any fingerprints. Michonne is the next to leave the group, pulling out the gas canisters from the back seat of the Lexus. She heads to the Honda first, swinging the can back and forth as she starts to douse the seats with the liquid. She spills it all along the outside of the car before she moves to truck and repeats her actions.

Daryl throws his black cowboy hat on his head, before he tosses Rick his worn burgundy trucker hat. The cowboy falls behind the wheel of the Charger, eyeing Jesus as he pulls his long, brown hair into a sloppy bun. Rick starts the Lexus and backs it out into the alley, Daryl and Jesus pulling up behind him. Michonne throws the gas can into the truck and pulls out her gold lighter, flipping the lid to ignite it. They all watch as she tosses it to the ground, the liquid instantly going up in flames as it moves toward the two vehicles. She clicks her way to the Lexus, her hips swaying back and forth as the cars go up in flames behind her.

She settles into her seat beside Rick as Daryl pulls up beside them, “See you in a few days?” He calls, placing a toothpick in between his teeth.

“By sun down, Friday. We’ll be there.” Rick answers back.

“About this kiss, Mrs. Grimes?” Jesus calls, smirking all the while.

“I owe you one?” She calls back, sitting up a little to eye the mischievous man.

Jesus shoots a finger gun at her as Daryl starts to pull away slowly, “You got it.”

Rick pulls out behind the two men, watching as Daryl flips on his right turn signal. He pulls out into traffic slowly, his eyes in the review as he watches Rick and Michonne take a left. He watches as their tail lights grow small, before ducking slightly as the sound of the two cars finally exploding within the garage. He turns at the red light and hits the on ramp before blending in with the rest of the afternoon traffic. Atlanta PD swarms the highway but the two men glide right past them, not even arousing suspicion.

“That was a good score.” Jesus finally lets out, tapping Daryl’s forearm before he slinks his hand down to his lovers’ fingers.

Daryl lets him slink his fingers in between his own thick ones, squeezing the younger mans’ hand in his, “Yeah,” He returns, cutting his dark eyes toward that baby face, “Good score.”

#richonne #richonne fanfiction #richonne fanfic #desus #desus fanfic #Rick Grimes #Michonne #Daryl Dixon #Jesus Rovia #rick x michonne #daryl x jesus #avintagekiss24

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iwasnthere622 · 7 years

Text

Zack Taylor Designated Driver Squad

AO3 Link: Chapter 5

AO3 Link: Chapter 4

AO3 Link: Chapter 3

AO3 Link: Chapter 2

AO3 Link: Chapter 1

Tumblr Link: Chapter 4

Tumblr Link: Chapter 3

Tumblr Link: Chapter 2

Tumblr Link: Chapter 1

CHAPTER 5: FRIDAY

Zack hiked down from his spot on the mountain, heading for his and his mom's trailer. It was Friday, which meant no one was coming to get him. When his friends first started this whole DD thing of escorting him to school, Jason was going to just come twice, since there were four of them and five school days in a week.

But Trini, god bless her, had a silent but intense conversation with Kim using eyebrows, long blinks, and frowns in the way only girls could, and Kim convinced their illustrious leader that Zack was not actually a child and did have other responsibilities, and maybe they should let him make the call on Fridays.

And he appreciated it, he did, but they still didn't really get it, how suffocating the school was, because no one cared. No one in that building cared an ounce for him, these adults that he was taught as a child to respect and to go to for help had turned their backs on him and written him off as a delinquent, a lost cause that they couldn't even be bothered to push through to graduation.

And none of them understood what it was like to take any odd job he could find, anything anyone was willing to give him, lying about his age to adults who knew better and accepted the lie out of pity or because it was just easier or for their own twisted gains so they could pay cash and below minimum wage because it's not like he do anything about it, right?

And they didn't get how most nights it felt like the walls of the trailer were closing in around him and the harsh sounds of his mother's breathing got louder and louder until it drowned out his own heartbeat and then it just stopped and that was always worse, the guilt and fear pinning him to his bed until it stuttered up again, just apnea, just a pause, but that one second of silence would be enough to wreck him for hours.

There was so much more to his life than sitting in a room for 8 hours listening to an old white dude tell him what the world was like. He knew what the world was like.

Zack reached the trailer and took a deep breath to steady himself before slipping inside, trying to stay quiet in case his mother was sleeping, knowing she needed her rest.

He made her breakfast tray, separating out pills, using one of the jelly packets he'd swiped from the school cafeteria to try to entice her to eat today, since she hadn't yesterday and had been sick the night before.

He pushed open her door carefully, pausing to see his mother actually awake for once, moving over to her. He set the tray down, offering her a small but genuine smile, reaching to help her sit up.

"Sleep well?" he asked softly, steadying her until he was sure she'd stay upright.

His mother reached up to pat his cheek softly, arm lowering and fingers seeking his, squeezing his hand. "Better when you are here," she chastised gently, studying her son.

Zack flushed, guilt heavy in his gut, squeezing her hand and reaching for her tray. "I brought a treat this morning, jelly toast. Please eat..."

His mother sighed, her exhale turning into a cough, covering her mouth and swaying where she sat, Zack's hands quick to steady her. When the fit was over, she leaned exhaustedly back into her pillow, letting Zack guide the water cup to her lips, taking a small sip.

"My strong boy... you should be in school," she said. She may be sick, but her mind was still sharp -- she knew today was a school day, just as she knew her son's friends did not meet him on this day. She liked his friends, they were kind and cared for her son, but for some reason they never came at the end of the week, and without them Zack didn't seem inclined to go to school.

"I went all week," Zack said, smiling a little, handing her a few pills to take -- there were so many, she could only take a few at a time before needing a break.

His mothers swallowed the pills down with some difficulty, studying her son. "It doesn't count if you don't go today."

"I'm going into town today, to work," Zack said, not meeting her gaze, setting the water cup back down.

Oh, how she hated the burden she placed on his shoulders! He was too young for this responsibility, and yet he never complained to her, not once.

"Go to school," she said firmly, reaching to cover one of his hands with her own. "Your friends will miss you."

"You matter more," Zack said firmly, picking up a piece of toast. "Try?"

Wary of being sick again but knowing she needed to eat, she allowed Zack to feed her the piece of toast, finishing it but unable to eat the second slice he'd made her.

"You eat it," she encouraged, but he shook his head.

"I already ate," Zack lied, "I'll leave it here for you, for later."

His mother doubted very much that he'd eaten, since he hadn't been home last night to take any food.

"Tell me about your friends, what have you been doing?" she asked, forcing herself to stay awake a little longer, to talk with her son.

Zack smiled a bit, nodding. "Well, Billy and me are working on a research project about colors for history. Oh, and Jason and I took out the whole class at dodgeball in PE this week, and I've got Kim and Trini on either arm as we walk the halls."

His mother smiled at the happiness on Zack's face when he talked about his friends, so glad he finally had some, glad he'd have someone to look out for him when she was gone.

"Why does no one come for you today?" she asked, unsure if he'd answer her.

"Because, Fridays are for my mom," Zack answered, offering her a grin, reaching for the next batch of her pills.

His mother took the pills, it slow going for her to get them all down, needing to take two more breaks before she could and by then she was utterly exhausted.

"Sleep," Zack said, helping her lie down.

"My Zack... I love you," she said, tired eyes closing.

Zack kissed her forehead. "I love you, mom." He watched her slip into sleep, setting the second piece of toast within her reach, in case she woke hungry while he was gone.

He slipped out of her room, closing the door softly behind him and closing his eyes for a moment -- she was getting so weak -- before he straightened and grabbed his keys, heading out.

He walked into town, it mid-morning now, going into all the open businesses and asking for some work. He'd do anything, dishes, clean bathrooms, anything, please.

But with the reconstruction still going on, from all the damage Rita and Goldar (and the Rangers) had caused, no one was looking to or even able to hire, and he spent a frustrating number of hours begging for work where there wasn't any.

The diner gave him some leftover food they couldn't sell as a consolation prize, and though he'd rather have the money, he ate the food, stomach growling hungrily at him as when he went to school he got lunch and usually dinner out of his friends.

He gave up after that, heading back home to check on his mom, frowning at seeing the toast untouched, but her breathing seemed a bit easier, and her face wasn't as ashen in her sleep as it had been.

Zack glanced at the clock, wondering what to do now, realizing everyone was still in school for another hour. Making up his mind, he took off, walking towards the school, then jogging, then running, then pushing himself faster, sticking to shadows as he poured on the Ranger speed, trying to outrun his demons.

But when he reached the school, they were still with him, so he just shoved them down and headed inside, trying to remember everyone's schedules and heading to the art room to pick up his work from yesterday.

Ms. Bucala was happy to show him the final result, and Zack grinned because they were great, thanking her for her help. He left the building -- there was no point to walking into last period when there was only 15 minutes left -- and headed for the parking lot, finding Jason's ugly truck easily and leaning against it, settling in to wait.

He saw it the moment Jason spotted him when the final bell rang and students started coming out, because the Red Ranger immediately straightened and scanned the area for any threats.

Zack just grinned at him, watching him make his way over. "Summon the team, bossman," he said, "for I come bearing gifts!"

Jason eyed him, a little disappointed he hadn't come to school today, but happy to see him -- they usually didn't see Zack at all on Friday's, so this was an improvement.

"All right," he agreed, pulling out his phone. "Usual spot?" he asked.

Zack nodded. "Works for me, you're the one driving."

Jason nodded, sending out the text and waiting for the responses (Kim: ok, Trini: ? gimme 20, Billy: Sure but I have to tell my mom first.).

"They'll be there in 20," Jason said, nodding at his truck and climbing in, waiting for Zack to get in as well. "What's the surprise, then?"

"You'll see," Zack said cheerfully. "Everyone still think we're dating?"

"Nah, Holt got caught making out with Sabrina and Mitch," Jason said.

"At the same time?!"

"Yup."

"Dude."

"Yup."

"No wonder we're old news!" Zack shook his head.

"Hey, I know that look -- don't get any ideas! Flying under the radar is a good thing, you know," Jason said, knowing that spark in Zack's eyes only ever meant trouble, and usually for him.

Zack laughed. "Where's the fun in that?"

Jason just shook his head, the pair falling silent. "You okay, man?" he asked softly.

"What? Yeah, 'course," Zack answered, grinning and pretending not to notice when Jason saw it not reach his eyes, glad the other boy let it drop.

They made it as far as the truck would go, climbing out and walking the rest of the way to the top of the cliff that lead to the drop below to the spaceship.

Jason sat on the ground to wait for the others, pulling at his tshirt. "How can you wear that jacket, it's like 90 degrees out."

Zack shrugged. "I have better fashion sense than you?" he answered, waving a hand.

Jason scowled. "At least I won't die of heat stroke."

"Pretty sure heat stroke is the last thing a Ranger has to worry about," Zack point out, gracefully sitting across from Jason. "You're just jealous cause it makes me look so cool."

"As if," Jason scoffed. "You look ridiculous, it's summer not winter."

"I look hot, you mean," Zack grinned.

"That's not what I said!" Jason argued.

"Admit it, looking at me makes you hot," Zack teased.

Jason growled. "What are you, five?"

"Did you text me to come here to listen to you argue? Cause I could do that tomorrow at training," Kim said, walking up to them.

"Princess, how nice of you to join us!" Zack grinned up at her.

"Zack," Kim said, sitting down. "Missed you at school today."

"Aw, missed you, too, Pinkie!" Zack said.

"What did I miss?" Billy asked, sitting down between Kim and Jason.

"Nothing," Jason answered.

"Why are we here?" Kim asked.

Jason shrugged. "Ask Z."

The three of them looked to him, but he just shook his head. "Gotta wait for Yellow."

"Is something going on?" Billy asked.

"Nah, just got a present you guys," Zack answered.

"A present?" Kim asked, perking up.

"Gotta wait for the whole class, Ms. Hart," Zack teased.

"I finished the blue section of our report today," Bill said.

"Dude, that's awesome! We'll be done next week for sure," Zack grinned.

"I think so, yes," Billy smiled.

"Did you really add that Hitler part?" Jason asked, looking between the two.

"Hell yeah he did, right, Blue?" Zack said, whooping when Billy nodded.

"It is factually accurate, and Mr. Martin might give us more points for tying in the era we're currently studying," Billy said somewhat apologetically.

"All right, what's with the summons?" Trini said, unsurprised she was the last one here -- it was hardest for her to sneak away.

"I have an announcement," Zack said, waiting for Trini to sit, looking around at his friends. "To thank you for all your very hard work as members of the Zack Taylor Designated Driver Squad, also known as my personal DDs, I have a reward for you all."

He reached into his pocket and carefully withdrew the key chains he'd made, handing them out. They were in the shape of a lightning bolt, painted their ranger colors.

"Did you make these?" Billy asked, holding it carefully.

"Yes, he did," Trini answered before Zack could. "He took art three periods yesterday."

"This is amazing, Zack!" Kim said, holding it up to spin in the light.

"Thank you," Billy grinned.

"'Twas nothing," Zack said, but he was grinning ear to ear.

"You don't have to give us anything, you know," Jason said softly, everyone looking at him, but he kept his eyes on Zack. "We'd still come get you and hang out with you and help with school."

"Yeah, Z, we're friends," Kim added, smiling.

"You're with us," Billy agreed.

"Yeah," Trini added softly, smiling.

"Geez, guys, they're just key chains, not love proposals!" Zack said, embarrassed. "I know, okay?"

"Good," Jason said firmly, making it a point to pull out his keys and add the key chain to them, the others following suit.

"You made one for yourself, too?" Trini asked, seeing Zack do the same.

"Yeah, course! If you're gonna do the Power Rangers colors, you can't leave out black!" Zack answered.

"No, you can't," Kim agreed, everyone sharing a grin before she stood up. "Well, this was a great surprise, but my parents will be wondering where I am right about now, so..."

Jason stood. "Same."

Trini sighed and stood up as well. "I'm supposed to be taking a shower right now..."

Zack wolf whistled as he stood, ducking the punch he knew was coming.

"We'll see each other tomorrow?" Billy questioned, wanting to confirm.

"Training tomorrow," Jason nodded. "9am."

Kim groaned. "It's the weekend, let us sleep in for once!"

"That is sleeping in, remember when he made us start at 7am?" Trini asked with a shudder, the group making their way down.

"Need a ride, Billy?" Jason asked, the Blue Ranger agreeing and thanking him.

"Z?" Jason offered, but the Black Ranger shook his head.

"Nah, I'm heading home, it's not that far of a walk," Zack answered.

Trini met his eye, tilting her head. Was his mom okay?

Zack met her eyes and offered her a small -- but genuine -- smile. Yeah, she's okay.

Reconfirming that they'd meet at the ship tomorrow morning, they split up, Jason and Billy climbing into the red pickup, while Kim and Trini got into Kim's car. All four waved at Zack as they pulled out, and Zack offered them all a salute, before turning to head home, hoping his mom was doing better after another day's rest. He was looking forward to showing her the key chain he'd made, and playing a game of chess if she felt up to it.

#Zack Taylor #Jason Scott #Jason Lee Scott #Kimberly Hart #Billy Cranston #Trini #Power Rangers #Power Rangers 2017 #fanfiction #gen fic #hurt/comfort #friendship #high school #character study #slice of life

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