#parallel countertops

[varshasaini]

What is a galley kitchen layout?

A galley kitchen layout is a type of kitchen design characterized by two parallel countertops or cabinets that form a central walkway. This layout is typically found in smaller homes or apartments where space is limited. The name "galley" is derived from the narrow kitchens found on ships, resembling the layout of a galley on a boat.

In a galley kitchen, appliances, cabinets, and countertops are arranged along the two walls, maximizing efficiency by creating a compact workspace. This layout allows for easy movement between the two sides of the kitchen, making it convenient for cooking tasks. However, due to its narrow configuration, storage and counter space may be limited compared to other kitchen layouts.

Despite its space-saving design, galley kitchens can be stylish and functional with the right organization and utilization of space-saving solutions. Many homeowners appreciate the streamlined and efficient layout of galley kitchens, especially in urban areas or smaller residences where maximizing space is crucial.

In summary, a galley kitchen layout features two parallel countertops or cabinets that create a central walkway, making it an efficient option for smaller homes or apartments with limited space.

[feyhunter78]

3 Times Luffy Thought You and Sanji were Acting Weird

Description: Luffy might not be an expert at emotions, but you and Sanji have been acting weird as of late and he’s taken notice.

Pt 2

Luffy likes to think he’s pretty in tune with the emotions of his crew, they’re his friends, his brothers and sisters-in-arms, his treasure hunting companions, and he knows them pretty well. But what he can’t figure out is why you and Sanji are being so incredibly weird.

One: It’s the pet names, the terms of endearment, as Sanji calls them. He has a million, from Mosshead for Zoro to madam for Nami though he only did that once and she hated it, but for you it’s never ending. Sweetheart, Princess, Love, Gorgeous, Darling, Goddess, and Dearest but that one only really comes out when he’s messing with you. And he flirts, nonstop, which seems to annoy other girls, but you don’t seem to mind it? In fact, you encourage it!

“Well, hello there, gorgeous, feel like walking my way?” Sanji smiles, putting out his cigarette as you enter the kitchen.

“Hm, try a better pick-up line and I might.” You say, tossing a smile Sanji’s way as you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest.

“Of course, love, allow me to try again.”

You raise a brow in anticipation.

“Y/N, sweetheart, grace this poor overworked cook with your healing presence, won’t you? Take pity on me oh merciful goddess.”

You roll your eyes but walk over to the kitchen island leaning on it, putting you parallel to Sanji, and tap your nails against the countertop with faux impatience. “You’re gonna have to do better than that to get me all the way over there.”

Sanji smiles and leans on the island as well. “How about this, princess? I make your favorites for lunch, and you sit pretty on the counter, keeping me company?”

You’re flustered, Luffy never sees you flustered! And it’s like you two have forgotten he’s even there as you round then hop up on the island, Sanji coming to stand at your knees, his hands planted on either side of you, caging you in, asking you a million questions about your favorite foods he knows Sanji already knows the answers to.

“What about lemon? A little zest to brighten your day?”

You smile, resting your head on your shoulder. “I do like citrus.”

“That is because you have excellent taste.”

“You flatter me. I’m sure I’ll like anything you make.” You tell him, playing with his tie, twirling it around your finger. “You’re an amazing chef.”

“Now who’s flattering who?” Sanji smiles, a slight pink tint crawling up his pale throat.

“I only speak the truth.” You shrug.

“Like the benevolent goddess you are.”

You release his tie, and lean back on your hands. “It’s a good thing you cook as well as you speak.”

“I do a lot things well, if you’re interested.”

You bite your lip. “Oh yeah?”

Sanji smirks, rolling up his sleeves as he starts pulling out bowls and various cooking utensils. “All you gotta do is ask darling.”

“When is lunch going to be ready?” Luffy asks, making his presence known once more.

“Be patient Luffy, good food takes time.” Sanji says, giving you and him a wink.

Two: You’re a star shooter, the fastest draw in the East Blue, and you dodge quick too, but Sanji always acts like the most minor scrapes and bruises are life threatening wounds. Even when you try to brush him off, like you’re doing now, rolling your eyes affectionately at Sanji as he fusses over you.

“Sanji, seriously I’m fine, it barely grazed me.” You tell him, lifting the gaze to see if your arm was still bleeding. You’re standing in the kitchen by the sink, Luffy leaning against the island, the rest of the crew scattered about, Nami and Ussop counting out the treasure you guy got on the table, Zoro cleaning the blood from his swords in the corner.

“You got shot y/n, you have to treat all bullet wounds seriously, they could get infected.” He says, grabbing a bottle from one of the cabinets and a clean rag.

You laugh softly, letting your head fall to the side and flashing Luffy a smile. “I’ve been shot like eleven times and never gotten an infection.”

Luffy laughs too, he never would’ve imagined you’d been shot at so many times, you always try to avoid trouble sticking to the back to get a clear line of sight. “Eleven times?”

You use your uninjured arm to make a so-so gesture with your hand. “Give or take. You don’t gain ownership of the golden guns without making a few people jealous enough to take a shot at you.”

“Just because you’ve never gotten an infection before doesn’t mean you won’t get one now.” Sanji chides, already pouring alcohol onto a clean rag preparing to disinfect the minor scrape on your bicep.

You hiss when he presses the rag to your arm and Sanji mutters soft apologies as he bandages you up, not even noticing the way you look at him, but Luffy does. You look at Sanji the way some sailors look at the ocean, like you can never quite pin it down, inexplicably drawn deeper, entranced and in awe of the sight before you, a smile playing on your lips.

“There we go gorgeous, all fixed up.” Sanji says, finishing tying the new gaze around your arm, his touch lingering, his lips pressing tightly together before they stretch out into a charming smile. “Next time let me get shot. I can still fight with an injured arm, you oh Lady of the Golden Guns, can’t.”

You crinkle your nose in response, the handles of said golden guns gleaming from within the holsters at your hips. “I shoot with both hands, what are you talking about? I can definitely still fight with one good arm.”

“That’s not the point sweet girl.” Sanji sighs, booping your nose with his index finger.

You rear back as if he’s offended you, but you’re still smiling. “What if you slip doing all that fancy footwork? You’ll need your arms to catch yourself.”

He shrugs. “I’ll just try to aim my fall so Zoro can catch me.”

“I’m not catching you.” Zoro says, not even glancing up from his swords.

You try to bite back a laugh, but Sanji catches you. “I’m hurt y/n, truly, you’re really betraying me like this? Such untold cruelty you put me through.”

You take a step forward and straighten the collar of Sanji’s striped button up. “No betrayal here, handsome, no cruelty either.” You let your hands linger and Luffy wonders if there’s something more to the action or if you just like how Sanji’s shirt feels.

Sanji’s face tints red, and your hands are flat on his chest now, sliding up towards his shoulders. Okay he’s gotta feel Sanji’s shirt, it can't be that soft. Luffy reaches out and feels the sleeve of Sanji’s shirt making you both turn to look at him. It feels like a normal shirt? Is he missing something?

“Y/N, why are you touching Sanji’s shirt so much? It just feels like a normal shirt.”

Zoro snorts, and you swiftly kick him, aiming for his ankle, ignoring him when he swears under his breath. “I’m just helping him straighten it out, it got wrinkled in the fight.”

Three: Sanji hates seeing you sad, maybe even more than Luffy does, and he hates to see any of his friends cry, and would do anything to cheer them up.

He’s watching the two of you, he knows you’re upset, it’s late, he’s up at the wheel and you’re sitting beneath one of Nami’s tangerine trees, your knees pulled up to your chest, your chin resting atop them, your shoulders shaking with subdued jerky motions like you’re trying really hard not to cry but can’t keep everything inside. He was going to go over and sit with you, make sure you weren’t alone but then he saw Sanji approaching from below deck.

He places a hand on your shoulder, and you look up at him, wiping at your eyes, clearly embarrassed. Sanji shakes his head and sits next to you, his hand still on your shoulder now moving to wipe away any stray tears.

You say something, but he can’t hear, and he sees Sanji’s face fall before he pulls you into his embrace, your face buried in the crook of his neck, your body wracked with sobs as he holds you tightly, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

You two sit like that for a while, until finally you pull back and wipe your face again. Sanji cups your cheeks looking at you in that weird gooey way he often does, saying something that again he annoyingly can’t hear. He should’ve tried to get closer, but he doesn’t want to make you feel more embarrassed than you already are.

Finally, once your tears have subsided, Sanji pulls you to your feet, and it looks like you’re thanking him. He presses a kiss to your hand with a flourish and you smile, it was a small watery smile but still a smile which Luffy is happy to see. You part ways with Sanji, leaving him beneath the trees, arms still wrapped around yourself but looser, eyes on the sunset.

Sanji watches you go, taking out a cigarette and waiting until you’re below deck to light it, taking a long slow drag before running a hand through his hair and leaning against one of the trees, still staring at the door you disappeared through.

He watches Sanji smoke for a while, the orange glow of his cigarette a single point of light, until the door to the lower decks opens back up, casting a sliver of light across the deck. It’s you, dressed for bed, your hair loose and face scrubbed clean.

Sanji snuffs out his cigarette meeting you halfway, bringing you both close enough for Luffy to catch a few words. “Y/N? I thought you were going to bed?”

“I tried but I just couldn’t fall asleep.” You say, stopping a hairsbreadth away from Sanji.

“Doesn’t seem like you gave it much of a try, love. You only went below deck ten minutes ago.” He chuckles softly, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering for a moment.

“It felt like longer.” You say almost breathlessly, looking up at Sanji with stars in your eyes.

“Yeah, it did.” Sanji hums in response, lifting a hand to caress the curve of your cheek.

You throw your arms around his neck, and Sanji’s hands settle on your waist and lower back, his head dipping down to meet yours and oh, oh, you’re…kissing Sanji? Sanji’s kissing you? He can’t really tell, you both moved so fast.

It’s intense, he watches through his fingers, trying to decide if he should let you both know he’s there or just close his eyes and ears. There’s a lot of wandering hands and noises, Sanji pushes you against the bulwark, you grab at his shirt, and yeah okay he’s going to say something.

Luffy coughs loudly, waving his arms. “Um guys I’m up here.”

You and Sanji jerk apart, Sanji’s face burning red while you bury yours in your hands. “Luffy! Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Your voice three octaves too high to be normal.

“Well, I didn’t know you guys were going to start kissing!”

Sanji clears his throat and straightens his clothing. “Why don’t we all calm down and I’ll take y/n to bed, Luffy you just keep your watch, I’ll go get—”

“I don’t want to know about you two having sex!” Luffy says, slapping his hands over his ears.

“That’s not what I meant, I’ll just escort her back to her room.” Sanji says, waving his hands frantically as if that would make everything go away.

You’re dying laughing nearly bent in half, leaning on the bulwark for support. “Sanji, Sanji it’s okay. Luffy nothing is going to happen between us tonight, I promise you, so you can uncover your ears.”

Luffy removes his hands and looks at you both warily. “Okay but I want extra bacon at breakfast tomorrow.”

“Deal.” Sanji says, offering his arm to you. “Shall we go then sweetheart?”

You take his arm, smiling up at him and Luffy’s glad to see it, maybe you two will stop being so weird now. “We shall.”

[welostheplot]

── 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 ᨒ↟☾.࿔*:･ 𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: vampire!ellie williams / werewolf!abby anderson / reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: during your first week of school, you get a taste of jackson—its biting mountain air, cliquey friend groups, and a steady stream of hallway gossip. you learn about the millers, though “learn” feels like a strong word considering how little anyone actually knows.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: no warnings! besides a touch of daddy issues if you really squint.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.1k

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: i was literally kicking my feet writing the iconic bio class scene hehehehe. just so we're all on the same page, the twilight parallels will be both from the books and the movies!! :0 also thank you for all the support on this series so far!

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: "welcome to jackson"

YOU HADN'T CRIED YET.

not when you said goodbye to your mother, who clutched you in a fierce embrace in the middle of the chaotic phoenix airport terminal, her own tears wetting the shoulder of your crewneck.

not when you experienced the stomach-dropping sensation of the plane's wheels lifting from the tarmac.

not when you unpacked your clothes into the dusty drawers of the wooden dresser shoved into the corner of the your bedroom and prayed the mothball smell wouldn't seep into the fabric of your shirts.

not even when you finally did fall asleep that first night, every creak and hum seeming a thousand decibels louder in a house left empty thanks to your father's overnight shift at the police station.

but now, standing outside jackson hole high with the hard plastic of one of your binders biting into the skin of your palm and your hair sticking to your cheek from the snow flurries, you kind of wanted to.

you had hoped getting out of the unforgiving january cold and into the school away from the dreary, overcast weather might improve your mood, even minorly.

it didn’t.

inside, the hallways smelled like petrichor and old textbooks, and your damp converse squeaked with every step on tile floors worn down from generations of boots and snow.

the woman at the front desk of the main office was nice enough, handing you a stack of papers with a patronizing pat to your shoulder. kept calling you “hon” and giving you smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“you’re the chief’s kid, right?” she asked, like she already knew the answer.

you nodded.

“well,” she said, placing your class schedule on top of the growing pile of printed materials. “welcome to jackson.”

YOUR HOMEROOM WAS ALREADY FULL WHEN YOU ARRIVED.

if you didn’t already think the people of jackson had a staring problem, entering the classroom and being forced to stand in front of twenty curious eyes while your teacher introduced you sealed the deal.

after she finished butchering your name (you didn’t have the heart to correct her and hoped the mispronunciation wouldn’t stick), she gestured for you to take a seat near the back.

the chair squeaked as you settled into it. someone a row over whispered something you didn’t catch.

you were halfway through pretending to listen to announcements detailing clubs and events you knew nothing about when someone tapped your shoulder.

you flinched. then turned.

“hi,” said a girl with big, inquisitive brown eyes and shiny cherry red lip gloss. “i’m cassie.”

you blinked. remembered your dad’s newest kitchen countertop note from that morning: be safe. have fun. make friends.

“hi.”

“you’re new?”

you thought it was pretty fucking obvious. but held your tongue. “yeah.”

she smiled like it was something the two of you were now in on.

“i’ll show you where the good vending machine is,” she said. “the one that always has the red sunchips in stock.”

you decided she’d be worth keeping around.

THE LUNCHROOM WAS A MINEFIELD.

you had barely made it through the cafeteria doors before you were overwhelmed by the roar of hungry high schoolers. it was loud and bustling, but organized chaos: every table had its own ecosystem.

cheerleaders. jocks. theater kids. a group in the back wearing too much camo and carhartt.

cassie stuck to your side like she was being paid to do so, firmly guiding you to a table where three other people already sat.

they looked normal enough. or at least that’s how you felt until you were forced to awkwardly hover with your tray of food while one of them—“nat. short for natalie. but you can call me anything you want, new girl.”—insisted on pulling your chair out for you in an act of chivalry.

“laying it on a bit thick, don’tcha think?” cassie chided as devin, the awkward but oddly confident, spiky-haired boy sitting to your left, made his second comment in five minutes about how pretty he thought your hair was.

you let out an embarrassed chuckle and scraped at the sticker on your apple with the jagged, bitten nail of your thumb.

then there were hands gripping your shoulders from behind, giving you a teasing shake as another student flirtingly jeered, “everyone just can’t get enough of the shiny new toy from arizonaaaaa.”

“knock it off, marcus, you’re clearly making her uncomfortable,” leah, a soft-spoken girl with round-rimmed glasses, came to your rescue from across the circular lunch table.

“wait, aren’t girls from arizona supposed to be like... bimbo sorority girl wannabes?”

you didn’t really know what to do with that, opting for an awkward attempt at self-deprecating humor—your specialty.

“yeah... maybe that’s why they... kicked me out. i dunno.”

there was a beat before the table dissolved into laughter, seemingly placated by your joke and attention shifting to individual conversations you didn’t have the energy to insert yourself into.

you let their chatter fade into background noise, opting to scan the room, your eyes bouncing from face to face.

that’s when you noticed.

it was them again. that weird group from the gas station.

and your eyes were, once more, instantly drawn to that same girl in particular.

she sat slightly slouched in her seat, elbow resting on the surface of the table, fingers drumming a slow rhythm next to a tray of food she paid no mind to.

then the energy in the room shifted. and your stomach twisted.

because she was now looking at you.

not a glance or a casual once-over.

a stare. direct and unblinking.

you dropped your gaze immediately, and the thumbnail you’d still been mindlessly scraping over the apple sticker bit into the flesh of the fruit as you white-knuckled the object in embarrassment at being caught.

“the millers.”

the words came from cassie, unprompted, like she knew what you were thinking.

“and the one who just caught you staring? ellie.”

you scoffed and rushed to defend yourself, but cassie barged on like she didn’t even hear you. “they’re foster siblings, technically. joel—he’s their, like, dad-uncle-grandpa figure, i don’t really know. they keep to themselves.”

you tried to sound normal when you asked, “what’s her deal?”

cassie raised an eyebrow.

“what’s your deal?” she countered.

you smiled, the left corner of your mouth tilting up, and she returned it, then fixed you with a serious look.

“don’t waste your time trying to get in with them, by the way. the millers don’t talk to anyone.”

“why not?”

cassie shrugged. “some say they’re homeschooled weirdos. others say they’re part of some religious cult. i say serial killers.”

you blinked. “seriously?”

she grinned. “kidding! ...mostly.”

you turned your head just enough to sneak another glance back at their table.

the freckled girl—ellie—was still staring at you.

and now she looked pissed.

YOU COULDN'T WAIT TO GET HOME.

you spent the rest of the school day navigating the maze of hallways and trying not to react too stiffly to each new, overly friendly introduction that came your way.

you'd even managed to put on an embarrassing, flailing display in p.e. that somehow resulted in you smacking the ball over the net into an empty spot on the other team’s side of the court, earning your own team the winning point.

“way to go, arizona!!!” nat had yelled from across the gym, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t throwing her own group’s game in favor of watching you instead.

now, you were in the home stretch with your final class: biology.

you approached the entrance to the lab, eyeing the interior of the room and its durable tables designed specifically for partner work.

and then realized how the only available seat was next to...

ellie.

you hesitated at the doorway, mentally weighing whether it might be worth it to ask your teacher to reassign you, the memory of ellie’s intense, angry gaze in the cafeteria still haunting you.

ultimately, the decision was made for you: you had already arrived late, there were no other empty seats, and you were promptly ushered further into the lab room by your teacher, who damn near slammed the door shut behind you in his desire to get the lesson started quickly.

you stumbled forward at the brisk movement, a gust of air from the sharp swing of the door strong enough to blow a few unruly strands of hair into your face.

collecting yourself and brushing the hair back with a quick swipe of your hand, you took your seat—but not before noting how ellie visibly recoiled at the mere scent of you.

you weren’t much of a perfume user; you had grown up occasionally asking your mother for a dollop of cucumber melon bath & body works lotion before school, in an attempt to “smell pretty” and fit in like the other girls your age.

but you knew for sure you didn’t stink, and you had even opted to roll on an extra layer of deodorant before and after p.e. in fear of the nervous sweats. you tried to subtly sniff at your shoulder as you settled onto your lab stool anyway.

ellie sat rigidly, her eyes fixated on the small petri dishes that rested on the table in front of you both.

as the teacher began the lesson, you chanced a glance at her. her jaw was clenched, and her hands were balled into fists on the table.

“hey,” you ventured softly.

“i’m new here.”

she didn’t respond, her eyes narrowing slightly.

the tension was palpable. you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

with a shaky hand, the other one clasped firmly over the lower half of her face in an attempt to 'subtly' cover her nose, she nudged your petri dish towards your end of the table and slid her own closer to her side.

then, she hunched in on herself, angling her body away from you as much as she could while still facing forward to pay attention to the lesson.

this was going to be a long forty-five minutes.

AS SOON AS THE BELL RUNG, SHE WAS OUT OF HER SEAT.

her stool screeched against the tile at the sudden movement, and by the time you fully registered what had happened, she was already up at the front of the room, seemingly arguing with the teacher.

ellie jerked her head back in your direction, muttering in a voice that was quiet yet urgent. you couldn’t make out the words, but the teacher shook his head, and she stormed out of the room.

it didn't take a genius to infer that you, for some reason, were the problem.

confused and honestly unsettled, you made your way back to the front office to make sure all the paperwork for your transfer had been finalized before leaving for the day.

as you approached the desk, you saw ellie there, her back to you. she seemed to be engaged in a debate even more heated than the one you witnessed back at the lab. this time, you were actually in earshot of the conversation.

it was your first time hearing what her voice sounded like, low and a bit raspy. you’d have probably taken more time to enjoy the timbre of it had she not been asking to transfer out of her biology class as soon as possible.

you caught your name. and then: “…any other open labs? i'll retake astronomy if i have to.”

"you passed astronomy with flying colors, ellie. if mrs. cochran could've given you a grade above an A+, she would've."

upon your entry, she turned slightly, green eyes widening as she saw you. without another word, she brushed past you and exited the office.

you stood there for a moment, processing the encounter. the same front desk woman, still wearing that fake smile, beckoned you forward and asked if you had a good first day as a newly official ‘jackson hole bronco.’

ten minutes later, as your truck pulled out of the quickly emptying school parking lot, you gripped the cold steering wheel and tried to keep your tears at bay.

YOU DON’T SEE ELLIE AT SCHOOL THE NEXT DAY.

and one day with no sight of her quickly becomes the rest of the week. none of the millers seemed to be in attendance, actually. you were perplexed as to why nobody batted an eye at their disappearance.

you guessed it must be that typical “homeschooled weirdo” behavior as cassie had called it.

when curiosity got the best of you one night during yet another dinner where your dad spent more time watching the game than talking (you didn’t blame him—starting over was awkward for everyone involved), you’d asked him about them.

“what do you know about the millers?”

your dad’s eyes finally left the grainy tv screen to look at you instead. he spent longer than necessary chewing a bite of his steak. scratched at his beard.

“their dad— er.. their… joel? whatever he is to them, he’s doing something right. kids never cause any issues with me or the force, unlike some of the others in this town.”

you nodded, ready to leave it there.

your dad regarded you carefully. stabbed at a roasted mini potato with his fork. didn’t move to eat it just yet.

“why do you ask? one of them do somethin' to you?”

you paused, unsure. why had you asked? you didn't even know any of their names besides hers. and at this rate, their attendance made it seem like they’d skipped towns or something anyways.

you shrugged, sliding out of your chair and bringing your empty plate to the sink to scrub at it.

“they’re just kinda…. odd. yanno?”

he nodded in agreement. “this town’s got some quirks. everyone’s a little weird,” was his gruff reply.

“but quite frankly? we’re lucky to have someone as smart as joel around on the council. don’t know what this town would do without him.”

you shook the excess water off of your now-clean plate, moving to prop it up on the drying rack. taking a chance at breaking the ice, you joked: "all of them kind of look like they stepped out of a magazine."

with a chuckle, your dad replied, "you should see joel miller in the flesh then. he's got all the moms in town swooning."

you both laughed and there was a comfortable silence after. it was the first conversation you'd had with him that didn't feel like you were talking to a complete stranger.

YOUR MOM CALLED YOU LATER THAT NIGHT.

your phone nearly vibrated off the bathroom counter as you rushed to spit out foamy toothpaste, caught mid-brush. the screen was lit up with some number you didn't recognize, but you answered anyway.

“there’s my big shot jacksonite,” she cooed, the sounds of clinking bottles and a laugh that definitely wasn't hers echoing faintly behind her.

“what’s the damage? has the cold frozen off any of your toes yet?”

“nope, no frostbite yet,” you mumbled, sliding under your covers into bed and pulling up the duvet to your chin.

"well, tell me everything about your first week at school! i was gonna write you a postcard, but then i realized i can just harass you over the phone instead."

you smiled, even though your chest ached a little. you had missed the sound of someone who actually knew you.

"not much to tell. it's pretty boring here. cold. people stare a lot."

“probably because you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to that school in ten years,” was her reply.

a loud beep cut in through the line. "please insert 25 cents for three more minutes."

“ugh, hold on—stupid machine—”

you could hear her fumbling for coins, the clang of quarters, the receiver wobbling as she probably tucked it between her cheek and shoulder. "you're calling me from a payphone?"

"don’t sound so horrified! we’re between cell towers and i saw one out back behind the bar. it’s vintage. kind of romantic," she added, dreamy.

"oh!" she gasped. "speaking of romance—have you met any cute guys yet?"

you rolled your eyes automatically.

"oops! i mean girls. girls, right, right—sorry, honey, i always forget. force of habit."

a beat.

"have you told your dad about that yet?"

you snuggled further into your bed.

"...no."

another pause. longer this time.

“okay,” she said, softer now. “you don’t have to. not ‘til you’re ready. just don’t think you can’t, okay? he’s a little slow but he’s not a lost cause.”

“mm,” you said, which was safer than agreeing.

“he used to wear cargo shorts year-round, babe. if that man can grow out of that, he can come around to anything.”

you snorted softly. there was a stretch of silence where neither of you said anything, listening to each other's breathing.

“i miss you,” you murmured.

“i miss you more,” she said softly. “i think i might’ve cried for, like, the entire state of utah.”

“you say that like you didn’t ship me off yourself.”

“hey! it was a joint decision. plus, your dad missed you. and us? we need some time to… i dunno. exist in a tiny metal box and pretend we don’t have any obligations.”

you laughed in spite of yourself.

"he’s still good to you?"

“he’s still amazing,” she confirmed. “he bought me one of those horrible souvenir snowglobes at a gas station today and told me it was for when i wanted a reminder of you since you're out there shivering in the jackson tundra. rich, hot, and super thoughtful.”

“gross.”

“i know, right?” she sighed contentedly. “but also… not.”

a strange pang tugged at your chest. you were happy for her, but the kind of happy that also stings.

“i’m glad you’re good, mom.”

“me too, baby.”

another loud beep cut in. “please insert 25 cents for three more minutes.”

"ugh. okay, this thing's unforgiving and i think they just announced last call. probably time to hit the road anyway."

you bit your lip. "call me when you're somewhere normal. preferably from your cell, please."

“what is normal, really?” she hummed.

and honestly? after moving here, you found yourself asking the same question more and more.

"i love you, honey. keep sending me those e-mail updates. i'll read 'em like they're the tabloids whenever we can stop at a library and get to a computer."

"love you more. bye mom," you got out, just before the call dropped.

you tucked your phone under the pillow your head was resting on and curled into yourself. no matter how much you tried to cuddle in, the sheets were cold, and the wind howled faintly outside your window. but her voice lingered—soft and bright and warm around the edges.

as you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself thinking, not for the first time that week, about a girl with sharp green eyes and a voice like gravel.

you wondered if she’d be back on monday.

this work is mine. please don’t repost, copy, or publish elsewhere without permission. thank you!

[h0neylevi]

Chapter Three

After a major shift, your life has become a series of monotonous routines. Eat, sleep, go to work, repeat. But when you find a man bleeding on the subway with no idea how he got there, things become anything but ordinary.

General content warnings: isekai/parallel universe, modern AU, mentions of blood and canon-typical violence, some light angst, eventual smut.

word count: 4.3k

You spend most of the next morning catching up on chores.

It’s a little different with Levi around, but his presence isn’t disruptive.

Mostly, he’s quiet. When you load the dishwasher or swap clothes from the washer into the dryer, he tends to observe from afar. It’s a bit like how Luna watches you from her designated lounging spot in the sun. Passive, but curious. A little too proud to voice any interest but watching nonetheless.

Sometimes he stares for too long, and you humor his unspoken curiosity by explaining what you’re doing or how something works. He always listens. You can tell behind that bored expression that he’s an attentive listener, particularly when you show him the kettle.

You learn rather quickly (and unnervingly) how often he likes to drink tea.

“This is just a quicker way to heat water,” you tell him as you carry the device to the sink. “All you have to do is set it back on its base and turn it on.”

You supplement your words with the coinciding actions. A light on the handle glows a bright blue when you press the switch down, indicating power, and Levi studies it.

“Once the water reaches a boil, it will shut off on its own,” you continue. “So there’s no serious risk of you doing it wrong and setting anything on fire.”

Levi’s eyes skip between you and the kettle with rapt attention. A small blue ceramic mug waits on the counter near his elbow, along with the box of tea that you’d purchased for him the day before.

With nothing else to do while you both wait, you busy yourself by wiping down the kitchen countertops. You can feel Levi’s watchful eyes on you, which feels a bit odd, but he just crosses his arms, unmoving from his position leaned against the opposite counter. You get halfway through before he speaks up.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You pause and look over your shoulder. “How the hell am I doing it wrong?”

With a stern frown, Levi marches over and pulls the damp wipe out of your hand. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell that he’s taking the task seriously by the look of concentration on his face as he begins to go back over the counters in tight, circular movements.

Slowly, he goes over the entire kitchen and the residual liquid that’s left over dries and disappears, leaving it just as spotless as it was before.

You look over the counters, then back to Levi.

“Did your journey to the future also give you some sort of vision that allows you to see stuff I can’t?” you ask in a flat tone. “Because that looks exactly the same.”

Levi rolls his eyes before abandoning the wipe on the counter and returning to his original spot. ”You’re the one who decided we needed to clean this morning.”

“I needed to clean,” you quickly correct, pointing to your chest. “I didn’t ask you to help.”

“Learn to do it right and I won’t have to.”

You resist the urge to reply and choose instead to sit in a chair at the small dining table, surveying the kitchen for any unfinished work. Thankfully though, most everything has already been done.

The satisfaction of completed chores tempers your ire a little and you glance at your phone. In large boldface type, the time takes up most of the top half of your screen, and underneath it sits a text message notification from Allie. You must not have heard it go off earlier.

[Allie]: Hey! I’m doing the final count for seats next weekend. You’re coming right?

Oh, shit. Allie’s engagement party. With everything going on the last few days, you’d forgotten it was coming up.

A renewed feeling of dread curls up in your stomach at the idea, followed immediately by guilt. You should be happy for her—and you are—but this party has felt like a dark cloud hanging over your head ever since she first told you about it.

Realistically, there’s no way out of attending. As a bridesmaid, you’re more or less required to show up. The only problem is so are the groomsmen.

You sigh to yourself and chew thoughtfully at your lower lip, trying to come up with a decent response. If you were being honest, you’d tell her that you’d rather streak naked down main street during rush hour traffic, but you get the sense that she already knows by the second message that quickly appears on your screen.

[Allie]: I’m having the seats assigned, so don’t worry about it.

You huff another sigh and drop your phone back down onto the table.

“Something wrong?”

You nearly jump at the sound of Levi’s voice, forgetting for a moment that he was there. When you look up, he’s seated across from you with a now-steaming cup of tea held precariously by the rim.

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if the uneasiness you feel now is from the text or the way he’s holding his cup, and shake your head. “I’m fine.”

God, what are you even going to wear to this thing? You don’t have a single article of clothing that even feels remotely suitable for an engagement party. What do people even wear to those kinds of events? Something reasonably formal, you’d assume. So, a dress. When’s the last time you even wore a dress?

Unfazed by your silent dilemma, Levi lifts his mug to his lips. To your horror, he does so exactly as you expect him to: with the rim of the cup carefully secured by the tips of his fingers, ignoring the handle.

It’s so.. natural, the way that he does it. Just like the way he cleaned your countertop and carefully folds his blanket every morning to remove any creases…

“Are you hungry?” you ask suddenly, your pitch a little high as you try to force several trains of thought away at once. “It’s a little late for breakfast, but I could make us something.”

Levi meets your gaze with a dubious lift of his brows. “If your cooking is anything like your cleaning, I’m not sure I want to.”

You stare at him for a moment, beginning to wonder if he’s always so crabby in the mornings, when you notice the smallest hint of something much lighter in his expression.

For some reason, you feel the urge to smile. “Oh, you’re joking,” you realize. “Didn’t think you had that in you.” You get to your feet. “I’ll make eggs. How do you want yours?”

He turns his gaze towards the window when he says, “I don’t care.”

With free reign over the food, you get to work. It’s quiet, but not uncomfortable. You’re used to the silence and Levi seems comfortable with it. You keep expecting him to eventually wander into the living room when it becomes obvious you’re preoccupied, but he doesn’t. He just sips his tea and occasionally looks out of the window.

He must not mind your company then either, if he’s willing to share the space.

Pretty soon, the smell of cooked onions and toasted bread fills your apartment. The sound of the sizzling pan entices Luna from her hiding place, and you spend a few minutes filling her food bowl before dividing out two plates of food with fluffy scrambled eggs, toast, and some sliced fruit.

You carry them over, placing one in front of Levi before sitting down.

“We should go out today,” you tell him.

Levi looks up. “And do what?”

You glance out of the window. Outside, the sun has reached its peak, bathing the city in a golden glow. With all of your errands done, you can spend the rest of your days off doing whatever you’d like. But you have some more practical ideas for today at least.

“We could get you some clothes,” you suggest, turning to look him over. He’s dressed today in the white button down and trousers you found him in. While they’re freshly laundered, there are still signs of wear. Frayed edges around the cuffs and a small split in the shoulder seam.

Plus, if anything is going to trigger any lost memories he might have, it would be interacting with the outside world.

He must think you have a good point, because he doesn’t immediately respond with something sarcastic.

Instead, he gives you a flat look and says, “I don’t have any money.”

You nod. “I know.”

“So, no.”

You frown. “Oh, come on. You can’t just wear the same outfit every day.”

The frown on his face that appeared the moment you suggested it doesn’t budge, but a thoughtful little crease forms between his brows that wasn’t there before. You have a point and he knows it.

“I’m not suggesting an entire wardrobe. Just a few things,” you say, using his uncertainty to your advantage. When he doesn’t respond, you add, “I said I’d help you.”

He pokes a bit passively at his food with a fork. “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

You don’t actually. Not that he needs to know how clear your schedule is outside of work. But even if you did have a thriving social life, you can still recognize that he’s clearly in an unfamiliar situation. Time travel or not, it would be beneficial to him to have your help.

You take a deep breath. “Let's say hypothetically that you did travel through time,” you tell him, pausing to take a bite of a strawberry. “Do you really want to try to figure out how the world works now on your own?”

After a moment of deliberation, he shrugs. “I’m sure I could figure it out.”

You frown. Clearly this wasn’t going to be so easy. What happened to ‘there are worse things in the world’?

“If you don’t want my help, just say so,” you say.

“I just don’t understand what you stand to gain from it,” he counters.

Ah. There it is: distrust has reared its ugly head once more.

Your shoulders drop as you stab into your eggs next. “The honor of experiencing your sparkling personality, clearly,” you grumble.

Levi raises his brows. “Oh, you’re being funny now?”

“There’s no reason I can’t be both altruistic and funny.”

“Don’t forget annoying.”

“It’s better than being Mr-Mysterious-Cool-Guy who doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Fine.” He scowls and you blink, surprised by how quickly he changed his mind. Like it pains him, he clarifies quickly, “But just a few things.”

***

Once you’ve both finished your food, you head out together.

Predictably, the main retail street is packed with people—businessmen in expensive suits, tourists walking with their phones out, locals with their heads down to keep from looking like easy targets for street hustlers.

You lead the way through the crowds until you make it to the stretch of clothing stores that line both sides of the street. Large signs illuminate the facades of buildings; advertisements flash and shift along their quick electronic script.

Levi takes it all in slowly.

You think you’re getting better at decoding his microexpressions. The subtle downward turn of his lips and his widened eyes look a bit like wonder.

A cheerful young woman greets you as you walk inside one of the more reasonably priced shops. She waves from her spot where she seems to be folding and arranging sweaters on a small display table, and you veer left around her toward the men’s section.

It strikes you that you’ve never really shopped for another person before, and you slow your pace.

“Well.” You stretch out your arms as if to gesture to the racks and shelves of clothing before you. “I guess just look around and see what you like.”

It certainly doesn’t look as if Levi is keen on the idea. His mouth forms a thin line as he scans over the displays.

With his arms crossed, he steps toward the aisles. You let him go and look around the brightly lit showroom. It’s been almost a year since you’ve done any sort of shopping for yourself. All of the advertisements along the walls are gearing up for the fast approaching fall season, displaying smiling men and women in warm shades of orange and red.

You glance at Levi again. He’s sorting through a stack of shirts nearby with halfhearted interest, but at least he’s trying. In one hand, he holds a thick green sweater made of cable knit cotton. In the other, a cream-colored turtleneck.

“Those are nice,” you comment, joining him at the display table. You reach to test the quality of the fabric between your fingers and another thought occurs to you. “Hey, you’ll probably need to buy a coat too. It’ll be getting pretty cold soon.”

Levi grimaces. “I’ll be fine.” He moves to another rack and you follow.

A few minutes pass while he skims through a few different types of shirts. You stay quiet in an attempt to allow him to concentrate, but you also get the sense that maybe he thinks you’re being overbearing. A feeling that is all but confirmed when he speaks again.

“Do you have anything you need to buy?” he asks suddenly.

You shrug, then remember Allie’s text. “Actually, yeah.”

“Good,” he murmurs. “You should go look then.”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

“Yes.” He hisses, not leaving any room to misinterpret him. “I can choose my own clothes. Go.”

You leave him with a quick reminder to find you when he’s done and head to the opposite side of the store.

The dress section isn’t as amply stocked as it might be in the summer or spring, but there are still a few options available that you find while skimming through the racks: a long, ankle-length periwinkle dress embellished with floral print and a dainty lace collar, a shorter green a-line dress with drapey, off-shoulder sleeves, and a baby pink dress with a quaint little bow on the front.

You take a look around for a mirror once you’ve gathered them all in your arms. This would be easier if you had a friend here with you to get an opinion. Are any of these even appropriate for an engagement party? Is ankle-length too conservative? Off-shoulder too casual? 

The green dress is the softest material—something you could see yourself feeling comfortable in during a long dinner event—and it’s also a nice, calf skimming mid-length that doesn’t feel too casual. 

You glance towards the men’s section, but quickly give up on the idea of asking for Levi’s opinion. He’d probably just say the first thing that gets you to leave him alone the fastest.

You wish you knew how to get him to trust you a bit more. For a moment this morning, it seemed like he was actually letting his guard down a little, but he’s right back to acting as if you’re an inconvenience.

With a heavy sigh, you drape the green dress over your arm and shove the other two dresses back onto the rack. It would have to do.

By some miracle, you manage to convince Levi to leave with three shirts, two pairs of trousers, and a decent coat.

It isn’t that expensive, but Levi still follows you back out onto the street with a mumbled promise to pay you back. Knowing that he doesn’t have the means to uphold that promise, you simply nod and lead the way back to the metro.

And maybe it’s your overzealous drive to be helpful or perhaps some subconscious desire to get on Levi’s good side, but when you see him looking around at the city again, you get an idea.

“Do you want to go up?”

He looks over at you, still walking. “Up where?”

“To the top of one of those.” You point to the nearest building, its highest level disappearing into the clouds. “There’s an observation tower in one of the tallest buildings in the city. Bit of a tourist trap, but it has a really nice view of everything and it’s not far from here.”

Levi’s eyes widen just a fraction and he looks back up. “You can go up there?”

“Yeah.” Taking the initiative, you start leading the way with purpose. “It’s just two stops away. Let’s go.”

It takes less than fifteen minutes to get on the metro and walk to the observation tower. 

Levi follows beside you closely, silent but watchful as you lead the way to the desk to pay for tickets. As you’re led to the elevator with a group, he reads each placard on the wall dictating the history of the building and its construction.

“It says the view is over 400 meters above street level,” Levi comments as everyone climbs into the elevator. It’s a tight fit with everyone, and you do your best to not encroach on Levi’s personal space much. 

“Mhm,” you confirm, tensing a little as the elevator rumbles to life. The uncomfortable swoop of your stomach makes you take a slow exhale before continuing. “It’s one of the tallest buildings in the country.”

A mother standing in front of you readjusts her child’s stroller, forcing you to take a step into Levi’s personal space. Others chat excitedly amongst themselves and you try to keep yourself evenly balanced as the elevator continues to sway.

You quickly glance at the display in the corner, watching the number tick up as the elevator continues to climb. Ten, twelve… Only a hundred more to go.

“Are you okay?”

You turn to see Levi watching you closely, that thoughtful curiosity now turned onto you.

You nod, but he’s not buying it. “You look a little sick.”

You feel a little sick. Every subtle jolt of the elevator sends your stomach into a somersault, and it doesn’t help that everyone is crammed so close together. You’re sure you could count each of Levi’s eyelashes if you really wanted.

You look away, back to the digital display at the front. “I’m just… not fond of heights.”

“Then why did you suggest we go up over 400 meters?”

You shrug a little weakly. “You looked really curious about the buildings. I thought you might like it.”

Levi sighs, but he doesn’t argue further. The most you get is a mild look of annoyance and a firm hand on your back when you manage to step on his shoe as the woman in front of you moves again.

It’s a little better when you finally get to the top floor. The elevator empties and you exit slowly, letting the large families with children rush ahead. 

“You do that a lot, don’t you?” Levi says, frowning before clarifying. “Put others before yourself.”

You’re not sure if he’s referring to the crowd of people or the idea of coming up here despite your fear of heights, but maybe that’s his point.

“It’s fine,” you wave him off. “I’ve been up here a few times before. I’ll just sit down away from the windows anyway. You can go ahead if you want.”

Despite your encouragement, he keeps pace with you down the short corridor until the area opens out into full floor-to-ceiling windows. Below, the city sprawls and spreads out, stretching to each end of the horizon as far as the eye can see.

Once it comes into full view, Levi slows until he’s stopped in the middle of the room. The expressions on his face are unmistakable this time: Surprise. Shock. Awe.

Less surprised, you walk on wobbly legs to an unoccupied bench and take a seat. Small children do a little to block the view, pressing their tiny hands to the glass and standing on their tiptoes as if that will give them a better look below.

Eventually, Levi joins them at the windows. You watch him, avoiding looking directly at the windows. It’s cute, you briefly think, how in some ways his amazement mirrors theirs. His eyes, normally a stormy and skeptical grey, are now full of curiosity. They linger over several familiar landmarks: Freedom Park in the heart of the city, the curve of the river as it disappears over the horizon towards the sea, the jagged silhouette of the distant skyline.

It’s exactly the reaction you were hoping for.

You sit and wait as Levi takes his time looking at the view. His surprise turns contemplative before gradually smoothing out into something more neutral again. When he turns and makes his way back to where you’re sitting, he stops to look at one of the large information bulletins on your right.

“There are more buildings like this one?” he asks softly.

You hum at his question, then turn to see the map he’s looking at. At various points across the country, there are buildings marked with their locations and heights. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure there are.” You study it for a moment and point between two points. “We’re here, and that one is in another city.” Then to another. “This one is in another country. It’s even taller.”

His brows furrow at the new information. “And it’s not… dangerous?”

You think for a moment, wondering where his thought process is going. “Well, no. Not really. Structurally, they’re pretty safe. It’s not like it’ll collapse on its own, and they’re designed with the weather in mind.”

Before either of you are able to speak again, your phone goes off in your hand with another bright chime.

When you bring it to eye level, you see that it’s Allie again. You had forgotten to reply earlier.

[Allie]: Let me know when you can!

“What is that thing anyway?”

You look up. “This?” you ask, twirling the device in your palm. “Uh, it’s a phone.” When that explanation doesn’t seem to work, you add, “You can use it to talk to people. Either by calling them or sending them messages.”

“Is that why it’s been making so much noise?” Levi asks. “You’re talking to someone?”

You nod. “My friend, Allie.”

He turns back to the map for a moment. “People usually look happy when talking to a friend.”

You have to stop yourself from cringing. Had you really been that obvious?

“I am,” you sigh. Thinking about it makes you anxiously twist your finger around the handle of your shopping bag. “There’s just this party she wants me to go to, and I’m not really looking forward to it.”

“So, don’t go.” He says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. And maybe it would be to him.

“I don’t really have a choice,” you explain. “It’s an engagement party.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” he questions.

You pause for a moment. “My ex is one of the groomsmen.”

Realization settles into his expression. “So, he’ll be there,” he supplies for you.

You nod.

There’s a beat of silence, and Levi turns once more to the map.

“Haven’t moved on?” 

Your eyes go wide. “No, no! I have, it’s just…” God, how do you explain it without sounding pathetic? You take a breath and try again. “I don’t want to look like a complete loser. After he broke up with me, he got this huge promotion and he has this new girlfriend and they travel all the time. We just never did stuff like that together.” You chuckle, the sound a bit bitter before continuing, “And here I am, still working long hours at the hospital and bringing homeless men back to my apartment.”

Levi watches you as he listens, but his expression remains entirely unreadable. 

You sigh again and look away. “Sorry. I know you don’t really care.”

“I never said I didn’t care,” he’s surprisingly quick to say.

“Yeah, but what’s a stupid engagement party to a thousand year old time traveler?” you chuckle, trying to shift the mood to something a bit more lighthearted. “You don’t need my sob story.”

“You’re making an awful lot of assumptions.”

You give him a playful grin. “So, you’re not a thousand year old time traveler?”

That seems to break the tension a bit at least. Levi rolls his eyes and takes a seat next to you. For a long moment, it’s quiet save for the excited screeching of children. 

“Have you ever heard of Paradis?” Levi suddenly asks. “Or a place called Marley?”

Just that question alone is enough to send your stomach flipping again. The worst part is how genuine he sounds when he says it.

Actually, no. The real worst part is how you think you’re starting to believe he really could be Levi Ackerman. Maybe. Just a little.

You try to keep your voice casual when you look over at him. “Is that where you’re from?”

He nods. “I think you do know,” he says before you have a chance to really answer. “Because that’s the only way you would have known I’m a Scout.”

You blink. “What are you talking about?”

“The night you brought me back to your place,” he reminds you. “You recognized my uniform. And ever since I got here, you’ve looked at me like you already know who I am.”

Damn. He’s more observant than you’ve given him credit for. It’d almost be impressive if he wasn’t glaring at you with such a guarded look on his face. But you suppose that might explain why he’s been so irritable.

It’s so frighteningly familiar. So very… Levi of him.

But how are you going to look him in the eye and explain that the person he was dressed as is fictional? You get the sense that he’ll probably just think you’re crazy, and he wouldn’t be unreasonable to think so. It’s part of why you haven’t brought it up yet, but another part of you is worried how he’ll react. You think you’ve been around him enough by now to assume he won’t be angry, but this is a highly unusual situation.

Only one way to find out, you guess.

You sigh, resigning yourself to whatever happens next. “I think it’s better if I just show you.”

He stares at you for a moment, and something like vindication lightly softens the look on his face. He gestures with a sharp glance towards the exit. “Then lead the way.”

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

Random Facts: Caleb

Home Tour, Part 3:

As promised, this installment of the series will go over Caleb's kitchen. I'll also explain additional reasons why I think the "other room" glimpsed in Captive Bird is also the kitchen.

The Kitchen:

The in-game still shots of the kitchen shown show a hybrid "open floorplan" that combines a kitchen, a dining area, and a lounge area into one room. The room has tile flooring throughout.

The kitchen portion features a refrigerator, an inset counter/storage area, and a large island countertop. A window can be seen behind this island. Since other standard elements of a kitchen are not visible in the depiction (sink, stove, oven, etc.), it's reasonable to assume the kitchen extends further beyond what is shown. The dining area is furnished with a table and six chairs. The area sits parallel to a window. Though only one window can be seen in the depiction, the diagonal shadows cast on the floor reveal there are actually two windows placed side by side. The lounge area features a couch and a rounded table.

Based on these details, here's the theorized floorplan for the kitchen.

Interestingly, the view from the window shows mountains? Since Skyhaven is a floating city, I'm unsure if the mountains are also floating or are just super super tall mountains?

The "Other Room":

In the second scene of the "Captive Bird" portion of the Main Story, Caleb says that he's about to leave and wants the protaganist to share a meal with him before he goes. He then grabs the protagonist's arm and begins pulling her across the living room towards another room. Though it happens super fast, we can briefly see into this other room.

(The left images are unedited. The right images have been brightened for optimal visibility)

In the context of his statement, the story seems to suggest this other room is the kitchen. From this glimpse of the room, it's really hard to make out exactly what we're seeing. I had initially thought the two windows we see here could be the same two windows from the still shot. But considering the positioning of the table and chairs in the still shot, that wouldn't really align. The only ways I could see this glimpse fitting with the initial kitchen floorplan is through one of the below sketches? But we'll have to wait and see what they reveal in the future to sort this one out for sure.

For our next post, we'll explore the different bedrooms! Stay tuned!

[atomite-ton]

Little thing for PriceGhostWeek2024 !

Merged the prompted for Day 2 and 3: Tea + Heart It's pure fluff, enjoy! (crossposted to ao3)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“You know,” Gaz says, leaning against the small kitchenette table, “you could just talk to him.”

Ghost’s gaze snaps back to him, already scowling. Gaz snickers, covering it behind his mug. “Come on, we’re all getting sick of you two and your old man courting.”

Ghost sputters. His mask is pulled up over his nose, and Gaz is treated to the rare sight of his cheeks darkening in an endearing display of embarrassment.

“What are you- we are not- fuck off Garrick!” he snarls, now bright red, staring mutinously down into his own tea.

Gaz rolls his eyes, tries a different approach. “I mean it, Lt. it’d be good for you. Both of you.” He says, a bit more sincerity creeping into the words.

Ghost just sighs, shakes his head. His eyes wander back to where he’s been gazing longingly for the better part of the hour. Price is sitting on the other end of the lounge, leaned back in his claimed armchair, squinting down at the screen of his laptop.

As far as Gaz can tell, he’s been totally lost to the world since he sat down that morning, consumed by whatever paperwork he’s been working on.

Price’s, appropriately and ostentatiously, heart patterned mug has apparently been magically refilling itself every hour or so, not that he’s seemed to notice. Coincidentally, Ghost has been hovering around the lounge for the better part of the day– flitting about between his spot curled up on the couch across from Price, and where he now stands leaned back against the kitchenette countertop.

Gaz has been in and out every few hours, only coming to sit down a short while earlier with his book. He’s been easily distracted from his plans, however, by Ghost. Ghost and his admittedly quiet, yet sickeningly obvious, pining.

It’s been a problem since Gaz joined the team. Everyone was aware of it on some level.

Ghost and Price dance and twirl around each other in perfect harmony, always caught in a well choreographed duel. Swords clashing theatrically on stage, yet never actually touching. Two ballet dancers spinning in parallel, locked into each other's orbit.

Gaz is well and truly sick of it. And he intends to put a stop to it.

This was no easy feat, however, considering it meant convincing two of the most stubborn people he’s ever met to pull their heads out of their asses.

He huffs, exasperated. “Come on, sir, this is absurd.”

Ghost turns back to him again, looking every bit like a particularly disgruntled cat getting picked up from its favourite spot. “What do you want from me, Kyle?” he hisses, “what would satisfy your relentless desire to harass me?”

Gaz rolls his eyes harder. “Bloody talk to him. Christ, Simon, it’s not like you’re risking much.”

Ghost just shakes his head again, immovable, “It's not that easy-”

“It’s exactly that easy!”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“Don't you?” Gaz says, pointed, and Ghost huffs again.

He pushes himself up off the counter, pulls down his mask, dumps out the dredges of the cheap tea bag that had seemingly exploded in his mug, and strides off into the hall without a word.

Gaz fantasizes about grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. That or slamming his own head into the table. They both have their own appeal. Instead, he puts his own mug into the sink and wanders over to the couch.

His book is still where he left it, opened and face down on the cushion, and he settles in to hopefully finish the chapter before dinner.

He’s not halfway through when Price makes a noise of confusion from his chair, the first real sound he’d made since he sat down, aside from the occasional old man grumbling.

Gaz looks up to catch him staring down at his tea with a furrowed brow.

“Alright, cap?”

“Have I been drinking the same cup of tea all day?” He says, looking so perplexed, Gaz can't help but laugh at him.

“More like 15 refills of the same cup of tea” He snickers. Price only looks more confused at that, turning to squint at him suspiciously.

“What do you mean?”

“Ghost’s been refilling it for you on the hour” Gaz says, “You’d think he was your personal assistant with the way he waits on you.”

Price raises his eyebrows at him, then looks to Ghost’s abandoned spot on the couch, absentmindedly tracing the little hearts on his mug. Something softens in his expression, and a fond little smile twitches at the corner of his mouth as he stares wistfully into space.

It’s an expression Gaz and Soap have lovingly deemed ‘paranormal activity’, what with the way it always seems to follow a ghostly encounter. Gaz knows better than to call it that aloud around the captain, though, as it usually ends with him scrubbing the toilets.

They’re hopeless, really.

“You two sicken me, you know that?” The look vanishes and Price immediately fixes him with his equally well-known ‘you’re about to regret saying that’ look.

Think fast, sergeant. “I mean, all due respect, sir.” Good catch.

Price grumbles at him, a bear thoroughly poked, but he returns to his paperwork. Gaz decides to make a graceful exit while the captain’s apparent good mood lasts. Though, as he exits, he doesn't miss the melodramatic sigh that follows him into the hall.

He shakes his head, muttering, “Impossible old men.”

[daughter-lilith]

❅In Every Life❅

Halsin x Fem!Reader | Modern AU, Parallel Universes Part 2 | Read Part 1 here.

Summary: Another day on modern Earth as you finally wind down for the late night in your quiet home. All is as it should be. All is normal as you prepare for bed. That is, until a tall, hulking man with pointed ears shows up at your doorstep claiming to be your lost love from another time and realm. But he’s a stranger. A stranger who forever changes everything you thought you knew about your life.

Explicit 18+ (In future Parts)

CW (For whole story): Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Tension, Oral, P in V, Shifting, Pain, Love, Halsin is Emotional!

Word Count: 6.66k😈

*Reminder, this is part 2.

Halsin’s gaze roamed over your face, your hair, and you unconsciously hugged your robe a bit tighter. You weren’t typically a shy person, but something about his visual inspection made your cheeks flush and you had to fight the urge not to swipe a piece of hair behind your ears. Instead, you held his gaze, as best as you could anyway.

“Your hair is styled differently,” he proceeded, “and the top of your ears no longer have their tips. And yet… you are as beautiful now as you were then. Clearly, nature still works its wonders, even in this foreign place.”

You nearly gasped at his words as a wave of flutters tickled your belly. And his smile only further enhanced the prickling goosebumps racing across your skin. Speechless, a torrent of silence stretched between you and the man with the pointed ears. In mere moments, the air felt thick with tension, unspoken words, confusion, questions, and so much more. You were starting to get lost in his intense eyes again, the way he looked at you with such fondness. And you knew at that moment your heart was correct. He wouldn’t hurt you. He was safe. But there was still so much you didn’t know.

As if detecting your thoughts, he cleared his throat and expanded his chest a little, like he was bracing himself. “I get ahead of myself. Now, as I promised you, I will explain all. Shall we sit?”

You glanced at the counter next to you where tall chairs lined up together, and shook your head. Your legs would’ve been a shaking mess if you were forced to remain in a seated position, anxiously awaiting his words. Somehow you felt steadier on two feet, with one hip leaning slightly against the side of the island.

“Standing is fine.”

Halsin nodded. “Very well.”

He took two, calm strides forward, closer to the other side of the countertop, directly across from you. He closed his eyes, his large chest rising and falling. A gold emblem of a leaf on his chest gleamed beneath the warm light, but when he opened his eyes again, he had your complete attention.

“The place I mentioned earlier, Faerûn, where I hail from, is a realm far from here. It can only be accessed by opening a very particular and powerful portal. It is how I arrived in this world myself, through the Astral Plane, and then here I—"

You lifted a hand, stopping him. “Sorry- portal? Astral Plane? Next thing you’ll say is you’ve once seen dragons breathe down fire from the sky, or you have pointed ears because you’re an—

“An elf,” he interjected, smiling. “Both of which you mention are true. Though I’ve been told I’m rather large for one.” A gentle chuckle sounded from his throat, it would’ve been comforting were your face not contorted in complete bafflement.

“You’re an elf?” You half laughed, incredulous. But at your reaction, the trace of humor that marked his face waned.

“Yes,” he simply responded, calm. “The Oak Father warned me that there would be many changes in this world. Your world. I now presume the mention of portals and dragons will be among the many number of differences for all I have to say.”

You exhaled, absentmindedly shaking your head. The longer you looked at him, the more you could tell he meant what he was saying, or at least he believed it enough. Too wrapped up in your thoughts, you couldn’t even conjure up the question of who the hell the Oak Father was. And you got the sense that Halsin, in whatever tale he was about to unravel, was just scratching the surface.

“You’re being serious.” You weren’t really asking, more so stating.

“I am.”

“You’re an elf? How is that even…” you trailed off, speechless. How was that what? Possible? How was anything he was saying possible? As a writer, you were a believer in ‘anything is possible’ but when that anything was a six-and-a-half foot, maybe more, henched elf…

“Are there no elves in this world?” One of his brows was slightly raised.

“No. No elves, no dragons. Just an overpopulated amount of humans.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. “That would explain the change in your ears, though I suppose you could’ve become any race on any plane.”

You gasped, blinking rapidly. He was starting to lose you, speaking to you like he knew you, like there was some other version of you.

Halsin must’ve sensed the havoc firing in your brain because he stepped forward, and you heard the sound of the chair scraping the floor as he bumped into it. You raised a hand to halt him, even though the entire island still separated you.

Without actually saying it, he was basically calling you an elf. There was a sudden twitch along the rim of your right ear at the mere thought. There was more to this tale, just hear him through. Closing your eyes for a few seconds, you breathed deeply and silently vowed that you wouldn’t interrupt again, or at least you would try not to. You opened your eyes. “Alright then… continue.”

He nodded, releasing a heavy breath of his own. He took a moment to analyze you before proceeding. “Faerûn is where I met you. You and your companions had saved me from the cruel shackles of a brutish goblin camp.” His mouth twisted in disgust, before smoothing out again. “Then you helped to save my grove, a druid’s sanctuary under my govern- from slaughter and being cut off from the world. I knew then… that you would become most important to me.” A warm smile melted into his cheeks and that fondness in his gaze returned. Yes, you were indeed safe with him.

“So I joined you,” he carried on, “on a journey of high adventure where you and your companions welcomed me with open arms. You became my friends, and soon after, my family.”

He went on to explain the depths of your adventures together and how you faced all sorts of formidable foes and challenges. He spoke of the times you cleansed curses, cut down hags, slayed devils, ended a vampire lord, and destroyed would-be gods. It was all so much, and yet the way Halsin delivered this tale, how he articulated each word so careful and precise in his language, was exceptionally poetic. He connected words in ways you wouldn’t think of, as though he came from a time long past.

And even though he was telling you tales of the sort of things you’d usually read about or see in movies, which made it even more unbelievable, you were extremely immersed. He made it easy to follow along to imagine the landscapes, the campsites, and your companions. No, your friends, apparently.

An interesting group from the way he described them. There were some strange words you caught here and there like githyanki or tiefling, but also very familiar ones like vampire and wizard. He described one who had red skin and two horns, one cut halfway- she was among your first closest friends, he said. After forming your group, before you met him, she had been the one you connected with swiftly, more of an open book than the other women. But in time, they too became like your sisters.

And the vampire was another close friend of yours, a sincere bond that blossomed from such a fragile heart. You once shared a brief romantic relationship with this white-haired elf, but came to realize your bond thrived better in the waters of friendship. You wished you could’ve seen all Halsin was describing, what he was imagining from his faraway look while he recounted this intriguing world. You knew that your own mental images weren’t doing it justice.

“…and our bond only grew stronger, rooted in the depths of the earth.” The more Halsin spoke, the more the leaves decorating his shoulders lowered as he relaxed. Sometimes he spoke faster than he seemed to intend, eager to share all he could with you. “And in battle, you were magnificent as always, the way the crackle of lightning simmered over your fingers, or how your longsword was blazed in fire, smiting your foes with no mercy. I knew to never stray on your bad side.” Halsin chuckled at this, a deep rumble from his throat.

You wished you could return the sentiment, but you could only half smile in return, a dull ache in your gut. It all sounded too incredible, fascinating really. But to your disappointment, none of it meant anything to you. You found yourself genuinely wanting to connect with his story, the world he painted for you.

And the way he spoke about you, there was something so incredibly deep there, raw, pure, powerful. You could feel that he cared for you in ways that went far beyond just friends or casual lovers. He cared for you possibly more than anyone you’ve ever known, or at least cared for whoever this version of you was. Someone fierce, powerful, a leader…and could wield magic?

“You’ve talked about magic a lot,” your voice filled the room, taking the chance to speak while Halsin paused his story, “that all of your—our- friends had it, because of access to the Weave?” You narrowed your brows, glancing at Halsin for some silent reassurance. When he nodded, you continued. “And some were closer to magic than others or accessed it in different ways… so are you telling me that you have this magic even now?”

Halsin grinned. “I do. And I presume that is but another change in your world.”

You hummed. “There is magic, in a way… rituals, spells, but definitely not how you’ve described it. It all sounds like the sorts of things I read and write about.”

Halsin stood straighter, his chest expanding as that proud grin still painted his face. “May I demonstrate?”

Your stomach flipped. “Demonstrate? Right- right here?”

“If you wish?” Halsin raised one hand, letting it hover off to the side as he stared at you, silently waiting for your permission.

You looked up at him, shifting between both of his eyes before settling on his waiting hand. There was no way this was about to happen. Magic? Fresh nerves stormed in your belly, but it was mostly fueled by a wave of excitement, just the tiniest hint of fear lingered in its depths. You had no idea what to expect; maybe a magic trick? Some sort of illusion? You swallowed, meeting his eyes again. With a deep breath, you nodded. “Okay, go ahead.”

Halsin, still smiling, turned his attention to his hand. You watched him close his eyes, almost lost in the wave of peace that washed over him, finding it easier to inspect his features without his eyes trained on you. He truly was a beautiful man. You watched his lips that seemed to mumble a bit, and random twitches in his eyes like he was searching behind closed lids. He looked at peace, and damn if peace didn’t look wonderful on him.

The scars across his brows did nothing to diminish his appearance, and you couldn’t help but imagine what caused such a wound. Halsin hadn’t mentioned that in his story, at least not yet. You clenched your teeth a bit, suddenly feeling upset that something would dare harm this man in such a way. He was still a stranger, and it even surprised you to feel this strange sense of…protection over him? Whatever caused the scar, you just knew Halsin didn’t deserve it.

Your expression softened, and you felt like you could stare at him forever, fixing his image in your mind. But forever was short-lived as something else caught your eye. From the palm of Halsin’s hand, a tendril of soft, golden light flowed upward, accompanied by two more. You gasped, frozen, completely entranced at the sight before you. You half noticed Halsin open his eyes, but you couldn’t take yours away from the cloudy mist of golden light that streamed and danced in slow, intertwining patterns. The room suddenly felt warmer, comforting, like it was suddenly the safest place on the planet.

“Magic,” you heard Halsin murmur, and you finally looked at him once more, nearly gasping again.

The light reflected against his eyes, causing a warm glow as he stared at you carefully, gauging your reaction. The golden-yellow light danced across his face, shadowing and lighting certain features as it moved. You weren’t sure what to focus on- Halsin, or the orb of energy he seemed to conjure just from his hand. As though sensing your thoughts again, Halsin made it easier to choose. He extended his hand over the counter, directly to you. The tendrils of light slithered away from his hand, reaching for you, lazily flowing towards your hand.

Surprisingly, you didn’t flinch but remained so still, the only thing racing was your heart as a tickle fluttered over your hand on first contact. You watched the golden glow travel up your hand, passing over your cheek and simultaneously spreading across your chest. It was warm, like a soft blanket of protection. It was a strange energy that seemed to be attracted to you, both exploring and revering you as it encompassed you entirely. You released a sudden gasp, overwhelmed by the tingles that crept up your spine and expanded across your chest. A near-weightlessness feeling washed over you. Another sigh as the magic finally dissipated, leaving you with a deep sense of peace as a gift. A gift of…magic.

“Magic thrives where it belongs.” The sound of Halsin’s deep timbre shook you out of your sudden stupor. “It always knows its way home.”

Breathing a bit harder now, you placed both hands firmly on the counter, losing the stillness from before. Your robe loosened slightly but still managed to cover yourself mostly. “That was…amazing.”

Halsin’s smile was just as warm as the magic he recently conjured. “As are you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you were immediately lost in the beautiful warmth of Halsin’s gaze. His hands were also leaning on the counter, with the one he used for his spectacle being placed closer to you.

A million and one thoughts danced in your brain: affection, wonder, intrigue, confusion. The impossible becoming possible before your very eyes. An invisible thread formed between the two of you; a bond that ached to reel you into each other, a magnetic force awakening after finally finding the right field to pull itself into.

Halsin muttered your name, so sweetly from his lips, his head tilting slightly. A chill swarmed up your back at his voice. You decided then that you liked the way he said your name, almost breathy. He sounded so close. You would’ve sworn he whispered it into your ear except you were very much staring at him across the kitchen island.

“Halsin?” you managed to mutter, sensing the faint shakiness in your breath.

“Yes?” He was intensely focused on you, eager for whatever you were about to request. If you could read his mind, you’d assume he was ready to march around the counter to get closer to you the second you allowed it.

“What happened with… us? Why did you come here?” You nearly regretted it the moment you asked as his face fell and his shoulders slumped. But you had to know.

He hadn’t finished all he had to say, and you still had too many questions. From everything he said, it sounded like you had an amazing life together, all things considered, so what went wrong? Why was this man -elf- standing in the middle of your kitchen, in the middle of the night, from a land far, far from home?

Halsin’s hand slipped back, and he glanced away, frowning. Your stomach felt uneasy at his change in tone, in demeanor. But you patiently waited.

Still looking away from you, Halsin breathed deeply. “After we defeated the Absolute, and helped repair the city, we all went our own ways, for the most part.” He spoke so softly, quiet. “You and I returned to what once was Reithwin, where we lifted the curse. We built a wonderful life together. We spent two decades there, in blissful peace, occasionally leaving to visit our friends, sometimes taking us away from home a few months at a time, with your encouragement. Other times they’d come to us, staying for days or weeks at a time. It was a fulfilling life.” He finally met your eyes again, smiling gently but it did not quite reach his eyes.

“We were so happy,” he expressed, a faint lightness in his tone. “There were many moments I feared I would wake, and you would have moved on, ending the dream…. But you were always there, wrapped around me as the rising sun illuminated our room. And you never failed to reassure me how happy you were, with our life, with me.”

There was a sadness laced in Halsin’s calm voice and each moment a flicker of dread occupied his eyes as he stared at you while he spoke. You rubbed your lips together, trying but failing to suppress your fleet of nerves. Tonight had to be a record for how often your heart rate rose and calmed.

“One day,” he exhaled a deep breath, trembling. “We received urgent word from Lae’zel, calling for us all to meet her in the Astral Plane. She and her people were finally so close to defeating Vlaakith once and for all but needed the help of old friends to ensure victory. I was a bit hesitant to take on another such venture after a time of peace… but she was our family. To deny her our aid was out of the question.”

The gravity in his voice expressed to you how serious this choice was. You still had no recognition of who Lae’zel was, only from the brief stories he told. But here on Earth, you did have friends of your own who you would go to hell and back for, and they’d do the same for you. So you admired Halsin’s decision to aid this Lae’zel.

“So we prepared as best we could,” Halsin continued, “calling upon old allies who would be able to lend a hand and once again fight alongside the Saviors of Baldur’s Gate.” He made a gesture with his hands like he was about to introduce someone to a stage. “And before we knew it, we were back in the Astral Plane. It was chaos, magic against magic, dragons against dragons.”

He closed his eyes, his nose scrunched up in disgust as though reliving the memory all over again. It made your heart quicken the more he uncovered about this battle in a space where time did not exist. He told you that Vlaakith may very well have been a god, or was exceptionally close to godhood than ever before.

Halsin exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “We’ve faced formidable foes, as I mentioned, and she earned her place among them.” He looked away again, half turning his body. “We were waning. Vlaakith had great losses, but we were tiring ourselves just the same. Every blade, every cut, every flicker of magic was followed by a strange exhaustion. Perhaps the Astral Plane had unpredictable effects. It seemed to make us stronger but for a limited time and when that effect wore off…”

“She started winning,” you muttered. Not so much to him, but to yourself. You could almost picture it: fighting in a space of endless time, amongst stars, floating rock, and deceased titan-like gods. You emerged from your inner thoughts as Halsin began to speak again.

“But we have been broken before, and we never gave in to defeat. So we fought, and fought, using all the strength our bodies would allow, all the magic our energy could conjure…And we had done it. We defeated the tyrant, together, as we’ve always done, this time Lae’zel delivered the final strike. But—”

A rough breath left Halsin’s mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, fist clenching. You absentmindedly moved towards the side of the island, not completely coming to Halsin’s side, but noticeably closer than before.

Your heart was hammering, anxious for him to continue. But you had no words at the moment, only allowing Halsin to gather himself until he was ready to proceed. A few seconds, then more, and he opened his eyes, obliviously staring at the now empty space you occupied moments before.

“But Vlaakith still drew breath,” he gritted his teeth, a sudden ire dripping from his tone.

It almost frightened you, to sense the simmering rage that crept up his throat. This man who had been so calm, so gentle towards you, and still was, now seemingly fighting back an old vengeance. It was like the room suddenly felt heavier, brought down by a foreign anger that had nowhere to go.

You already missed the occasional smiles that graced his face a short time ago, the warmth of nature in his eyes as he gazed at you. Another breath left the large man’s lips, his broad chest rising and settling into a gentle rhythm. When he spoke again, there was still a taste of an underlying anger in his voice, more hidden now that he was no longer clenching his teeth.

“Vlaakith would not let death capture her without another,” he said, still not meeting your eyes. “With her last strength, she aimed a fatal blow at Lae’zel only to miss…” He finally turned to look at you, sorrow dragging down his face. “She missed because you leapt in front of her instead.”

Even under the dim lighting, you could’ve sworn the color left his tanned face. Your stomach tightened and a sudden wave of nausea lingered in the depths of your belly. You suddenly felt panicked, shocked, and tired all at once; like you were experiencing someone else’s emotions, someone else’s pain. You rested your elbows on the counter, leaning your weight onto it.

“So Vlaakith,” you swallowed, taking a breath. “Killed her instead? Killed…me?”

“Yes,” Halsin answered quickly, as if desperate to move past that truth. He started shaking his head, overcome by emotions. “It all happened too quickly. I couldn’t get to you fast enough. And by the time you fell in my arms, the Astral Plane was already beginning to claim you. You looked at me and…you said, in the most angelic voice I know…in every life.”

A wave of dread washed over you, sneaking into your pores and threatening to drown out your soul. You weren’t remembering anything, you weren’t visualizing this fatal moment and yet it felt like your lungs had the air violently sucked out of it. You clenched your teeth, trying to calm yourself and also feign that you were okay, not wanting to watch Halsin’s face contort to anymore worry. Grasping the edge of the counter, you were acutely aware of Halsin still speaking.

“So I spent the next 11 years without you, until one night, a dream. You came to me.” Halsin’s words pulled your attention back to him, your ears honing in on this new information. “It was unlike any other I’ve had of you before. It was…urgent. Real. You were repeatedly telling me to find you, your voice blending in and out of earshot. And just before I woke, your voice came beside my ear, I could feel your breath tickle my skin, you said but one word…‘Earth’.”

“I…I said that?” you stammered a bit, throat dry, trying to quell the strange reactions undertaking your body.

Halsin nodded, terse. “You did. I did not understand it at the time, for the only earth I knew was the grass and dirt beneath my feet.” He bowed, placing a fist across his chest. “But with the wisdom of Silvanus, and the aid of the greatest wizard I’ve ever met, I learned that Earth was a place. A world. Your new world.” Halsin turned, taking a step along the counter, then another, towards you. But he stopped when he caught your expression, and you silently thanked him for it.

You sensed he wanted to be comforting, to tell you this news as gently as possible, but it was becoming all too overwhelming again. You almost wanted to ask if he could conjure up some more magic so you could get enveloped in its sweet, soothing embrace again. So it could untwist the knots in your stomach and calm the rate of your heart with its golden light.

Halsin lowered his head, sullen, occasionally shifting his eyes from you to the empty space at your side. “It took another year to figure out how to open the right portal and the right amount of magic it demanded.” His voice was softer, lower, like he was losing confidence the more he continued to speak. “I was warned that it may be difficult to return or that you may not remember me. But I had to try… so Gale, Shadowheart, and myself, with the guidance of Silvanus, Mystra, and Selûne at our backs, entered the astral plane once again. There, a portal for me already awaited…”

He stared at you, softly searching your eyes, daring another tentative step closer. “And then I came here, to you… to the greatest love my heart has ever known.”

“Halsin…” you breathed, but he raised his hands, halting you.

“This may not be Faerûn, and elven blood may no longer flow through your veins. But your face, your eyes, your very soul is just the same. I can feel it.”

Another fleet of nerves sliced through you, your heart pumping fiercely in your ears, the beat of your pulse so intense within your wrists. Halsin was almost standing directly before you now, the heat radiating off his large frame reached for you, as eager as the golden tendrils of magic.

But he stopped before closing the distance entirely, not crossing the small threshold of space still between you. You avoided his gaze, but could still feel him watching you, and could hear the quick pacing of his breath, like he was trying his damnedest to calm himself.

Your name left his lips, a gentle plea to guide your attention back to him. An involuntary flutter decorated your cheeks when he said your name that way, the gentleness of it, fueled with decades of love. But even that was not enough to quell your pounding heart. You were stuck trying to understand everything Halsin was telling you, this man, this elf. This elf who was apparently 350 years old when you embarked on this wild adventure together, with friends who weren’t all human, and who could do great and magical things. You could do great and magical things. It was all so incredible, but also, it was too much…

Halsin’s deep timbre filled your ears, you could almost feel the vibration in his voice. “What are you thinking, my heart?”

“Please,��� you muttered, startled by his tender words of affection. “You shouldn’t say that…” You dared a look at him, noting the strict narrowing in his brows and confusion in his expression.

So he said your name again, as a question this time, fear accompanying his voice. You sighed, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed with each passing second. His presence was so much, the closeness, his warmth, his words of affection for a love once lost. A love he believed to be you. So, you took two steps back, needing to reclaim the distance between you two, needing to find room to breathe and to think.

Your throat felt dry and you promptly found yourself reaching for a nearby water bottle, hastily swallowing as much of the water as you could. Breathing rapidly, you put the bottle aside and steadied yourself with both hands on the counter.

“Halsin, I…I don’t know…”

He remained still, careful not to further overwhelm you by standing too close. “You are having trouble believing me?”

You half-laughed, bringing your hands to your head, and dug your fingers into your hair. “Quite the opposite. In fact, this would be so much easier if I didn’t believe you.” You started pulling at your scalp, just a little before releasing your grip.

You started moving around the island but remained mindful not to get too close to Halsin, a million thoughts racing in your head. “If I didn’t believe you then I could just assume you were crazy, and that I was crazy for letting you in my house and I’d just ask you to leave and probably call the cops. It would be one hell of a story to tell my friends but—” You stopped pacing, finding the courage to look at him again. His expression was a mixture of emotions, but the worry in his eyes overtook them all.

“I believe you, Halsin.”

He smiled, warm, the expression so beautiful on his face. And it nearly broke your heart.

“I believe that you come from a place of what people here would deem impossible, and you had these amazing friends, and a life with…” you closed your eyes, breathing deeply. “But I’m not her, Halsin…”

You opened your eyes to find his smile falling, the sight nearly ripping you in two. You ignored the incessant nerves that ravaged your stomach, the loud beat of your heart that just could not rest. “I believe that you cared for that part of me... but that isn’t who I am, Halsin. I have no memory of anything you speak of. I have an entire life here.”

Halsin said nothing, silence seizing him. You rushed on, question after question, whatever thought you could pull out of your head from the sea of endless thoughts. “What am I supposed to do with this, Halsin? What was your plan after finding me?”

You waved your arms aimlessly, unable to control the issues spilling out of your mouth. “Am I supposed to go to your world, now? Do you stay in mine? Do you just sleep on my couch and we talk about it in the morning?”

“Perhaps, if you wish to wait for the morning sun, I—"

“No, Halsin. I don’t wish for that.  I—I don’t know what to do. But I do know this…”

You regarded him, taking a moment to gather yourself. He stood patiently, so quiet, and yet his eyes said so much. A budding fear was digging its claws into this large elf, right before your eyes. “I’m afraid, Halsin.”

He frowned, taking a step back and you quickly moved forward, throwing your hands up. “No, no!” you exclaimed, halting him. “Not afraid of you, I know I’m safe with you. I just…I think I’m afraid of all of this. I don’t know how to handle it. Maybe I need time or maybe I need…ugh.” You groaned in frustration, unable to find the words, unable to process.

Halsin lowered his head, a deep breath, then another. A twang of guilt poked against your chest, though you knew you had nothing to feel guilty for. He seemed like he was an incredible man. He was gorgeous, calm, a fantastic talker, and above all he managed to make you feel entirely safe despite his foreboding stature.

“I’m so, so sorry you lost her, Halsin,” you were half-whispering, careful with your words. “I have no doubt you were so loved. I can tell you are an amazing man and maybe if you and I met in other circumstances, and we were from the same world… who knows…” You tried to sound as comforting as possible but even you felt a twinge of sadness at your words.

And in that moment, you realized you wanted to be that person that Halsin crossed realms for. To be that person who was so deeply loved, and to feel the same in return. But you found it nearly impossible to mentally handle this. It was all so wonderful, phenomenal, unbelievable, and yet you believed it all, down to the very last word. And it terrified you that it was possible.

“I’m just a normal gal, who loves to write and watch movies, play games, and take walks. I’m not that remarkable, powerful sorceress who wielded a sword as skillful as a fighter. I’m not who you loved. I’m just me.” A long breath left your lips, and your shoulders slumped in exhaustion, defeated.

“I understand,” Halsin said, finally gracing you with his voice again. You needed to hear it right now, more than ever. You needed to know he would be okay. “Forgive me…in my haste to find you, to see you again, I failed to consider what that may mean for you.”

You smiled, meekly. “No, you longed to find your love again. If I was in your place, I would’ve rushed at the chance myself. I wish I could’ve given you the reaction you imagined.” Your head slumped, suddenly feeling heavy, and a sea of guilt swam harshly within you.

Halsin sighed, calm. “No, don’t say that. This was a lot to process, a lot to bear.” He walked towards you slowly, watching your expression closely so as to make sure not to overstep. When you didn’t protest or step backward, he proceeded. “And if it means anything, even if you’re just a normal gal, I know in my heart you are extraordinary.”

A burning sensation simmered in your eyes, and you swallowed, trying not to let your emotions completely consume you. Already too overwhelmed by what to even feel. Tilting your head upward, the closer Halsin came, tears almost threatened to spill when you got a deeper look into his eyes. Maybe you just needed time, time to figure out what this meant for you, what it meant for both of you. But how much time that was, you couldn’t predict. But Halsin’s warmth was hovering near you again as his eyes looked all over your face, smiling sadly.

“Thank you,” he murmured., deep “Thank you for opening the door, for allowing me into your home, for letting me gaze upon your beautiful eyes after a decade of only seeing them in my dreams.”

Your lips parted, but no words sounded from them. Only a gasp of uncertainty. An exhale of emotions you couldn’t define. He was leaving, and the thought made your stomach lurch. But what else were he to do? You had no idea yourself, torn between telling him to give you time and just accepting that you weren’t who he sought.

“I will return to Faerûn.” He shut his eyes, breathing deeply, then reopened them. “But it will bring me great peace to leave knowing that you are safe, that I was blessed with such a chance to be in your presence again, whether you recall the memories or not.”

You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’ but decided against it. You sensed Halsin wouldn’t want that, he wouldn’t want you to feel guilty for having done nothing wrong.

You took in his face, the small scar on his bottom lip, the red tattoo, the tiny strands of hair above his head that didn’t seem long enough to reach his bun. Halsin stepped closer, almost completely blocking the view behind him. You watched his eyes bore into yours; scanning your face, your cheeks, your lips, like he was reaffirming his image of you.

“I would only request one thing before I leave you,” he spoke deeply, a heaviness in his tone. Then he met your eyes again. “I would very much like to hug you, if you allow it.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head ‘yes’ despite the blood rushing through your veins. “Sure.”

You inhaled quickly and quietly, turning to face him as he moved towards you, never breaking eye contact. In one full stride, you were consumed by his warm, inviting, woodsy aroma with a touch of sweet sandalwood. And as his large arms curled around your frame, you could’ve guessed there was the faintest hint of…vanilla?

Your heart skipped as you turned your face to the side, tentatively resting your cheek against his firm chest. You heard him release a heavy sigh, feeling the strength of his chest as air filled and left his lungs. Halsin’s heart thumped rapidly against your ears, outpacing your own. You frowned slightly, spreading your arms further around his waist, as best as you could reach, and squeezed gently. Halsin responded to this, his thick muscles tightening around you, pulling you closer until you were almost cocooned in his protective and endearing embrace.

Halsin’s warmth was so consuming, steadily relaxing the rushing blood in your veins. His heart also seemed to calm, though still at a higher rate than what you presumed to be normal. Without thinking, you let your eyes close, feeling the bottom of his chin rest gently near your head.

You began imagining sitting around a warm campfire, under a star-lit sky. You were enjoying the company of faces you couldn’t make out, positive that you wouldn’t get their image right anyway. But you could almost feel the bond, the stories to tell for decades shared between you all. And beside you, a comforting presence. You saw yourself smiling, resting your head on a familiar shoulder as Halsin hummed a soft tune, his vibrations sending enticing chills down your spine. You smiled, both in this imagination, and while you stood wrapped up in Halsin’s arms.

You felt Halsin’s lower half move away from you a little, already missing the warmth he provided, but his arms remained securely around you. The sound of a distant rumble in his throat, almost something of a groan hit your ears, but you couldn’t be too sure if he was just taking another breath. Whatever it was, it made a spark tickle in your abdomen, and you had to clench your teeth to try and quell the sudden pleasurable feeling.

You weren’t sure how much longer you spent in each other’s embrace, or who made the first move to end this moment of peace. But you were both pulling away from one another, still connected by your hands holding each other’s forearms. You paused, staring up at the pools of genuine care in his mesmerizing eyes.

“Will you be okay?” you inquired, when what you really wanted to ask was ‘maybe you can stay?’ But a lingering fear wouldn’t allow you to, despite it gradually waning by the second.

“As long as you are, then yes.” He rubbed his thumb along your forearm, still hanging onto you. “Finding you at all is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. And I will spend the rest of time being thankful, until my flesh finally yields to nature.”

Your lips parted, eyes darting between his. He left you speechless again, the sincerity in his words, the strength in his tone despite the sadness that made its home there. He stared deeply at you, perhaps waiting for you to completely sever the connection for he lacked the strength to do so himself. You glanced at his lips, how soft they looked, pressed together uneasily as Halsin watched you.

A flutter dashed inside your stomach, your speeding heart anticipating your next move as your gaze lingered on his lips. You exhaled softly, glancing at the scar on his chin, your finger itching to trace it but not wanting to let go of Halsin’s arms. Your gaze rested on his tattoo, where it passed down his cheek. So you leaned upward, pressing some of your weight on your toes. Halsin lowered a bit, assisting you, and slightly tilted his head, exposing more of his tattoo.

And when your soft lips pressed against his warm skin, a fierce electric spark jolted you backward. Your knees buckled and you nearly fell were it not for strong hands already catching you.

Part three!

[moog-rt]

ɪɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ [ch.1]

[Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Prologue

➨ Chapter One

Next: Chapter Two

Premise:

The multiverse theory is the idea that there is not only one universe but, instead, an infinite number of universes, parallel to one another.

You and Tenko were heroes in your universe. The war came and went, and that left only you. When you are thrown into a universe parallel to yours, you find out the hard way just how similar and different it is from your own.

A/N: I know this is technically the first chapter BUT, there is a prologue for this story. So if you haven't checked that out yet, it's linked above, and I highly recommend reading that first.

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER ONE

The rain grew heavier, encouraging you to turn away from your departing friend in favor of heading home. Combined with the cool early-spring air, you were sure you’d get a chill. It was a little surreal, being a top-charted hero who helped save the world from villainous destruction and taking transit like you were a typical commuter. No one batted an eye. They probably didn’t even recognize you regardless of whether or not you were dressed for work.

That’s how the world was.

They cared for the first few weeks following the end of the war, but that dwindled as weeks stretched into months. Once the roads were rebuilt and everyone resumed their daily lives, there wasn’t much to remind them of what had happened.

And after the upheaval of hero-dominated society, the raving over who was Number One and which debuts showed the most promise declined to almost nothing.

Heroes were becoming a thing of the past.

Your apartment was reminiscent of that fact. For nearly your entire life, you were chasing after some dream of becoming a hero and making the world a better and safer place. Yet there was barely anything decorating your walls or countertops to suggest such a thing. You had been living there for roughly two years, just after the end of the war, but there were countless boxes shoved aside still waiting to be unpacked. You’d peered inside them a handful of times, but you decided it was better that their contents stayed tucked away.

After entering your apartment, you wasted no time in peeling off your soaked clothing. The various articles landed on the linoleum flooring with a wet slap. You kicked your pants to the side and shuffled over to one of the stools at your kitchen counter. You grabbed a throw blanket that was draped over the back of one of them and wrapped it around your shivering body.

A pitiful groan emanated from your stomach just before it cramped up uncomfortably. With a slight wince, you huffed and checked your fridge for any remaining left overs or easy meals.

What a sad sight that was. The light inside of the fridge illuminated your face as you stared at mostly empty shelves.

Whatever.

You could always order take out.

Swiping away missed calls and unread messages, you began a search for anything that sounded appealing.

Maybe if you’d gotten a text from Toga or Iguchi, you would have cared. But Toga was obviously busy with her big move, and you couldn’t remember the last time Iguchi had reached out to you. For a while, you two would try to make time to grab lunch or play games like you used to, but you both knew it was hardly the same anymore. You saw each other less and less, until your meetups stopped altogether.

Nowadays, your dreams were filled with memories rather than hopes for the future. Your heart and soul longed for the experiences and the people in your past, and the only way you could indulge was in your sleep. Waking up afterwards was like pulling teeth as you tried your utmost to return to whatever memory had been playing out in your mind.

The doorbell rang.

Your food was left outside your door, and after bringing it in, you ate maybe half of it before banishing the leftovers to the fridge of doom. The light filtering into your apartment gradually turned cool and dim, meaning it was just late enough for you to justify turning in for the night. You didn’t bother putting on a dry set of clothes, instead opting to crawl into bed wearing your mildly soggy undergarments.

Every day was the same. You’d work, go home, eat, and sleep. You never went out anymore, and you were certain that if you picked up your TV remote, it would leave a silhouette behind contrasting the dusty surface.

The only bits of ‘décor’ you had were photographs strewn about your TV stand. None of them were framed. They just lay there for you to peruse whenever you wanted to inflict even more emotional damage upon yourself. The old photos of your friends from work and school before the war best served for collecting dust.

There was one that stood out from the rest. It lay on your nightstand, still sheen from its frequent handling.

Delicately, you picked it up, just as you did most nights, and peered down at it.

–

It was the day Tenko Shimura officially started as a pro-hero at the AFO Hero Agency.

He spent the past few years with them as an internship and a work study, but everyone felt that starting there as a graduate was something to be celebrated. So you all made a day of it.

Everyone was there, and the conference room had been decorated and rearranged to better fit the occasion. Several platters of food lined the tables, filling the room with a heavenly aroma that complimented the chatter quite well.

Tenko wasn’t typically one for parties or huge get-togethers, especially when he was the focus, but he was kept from standing idly as people took turns congratulating him. You could tell he was beginning to grow tired of all the socializing.

You chuckled as you stepped up to his side, walking him away from his dying conversation. You watched as he relaxed his tense shoulders and dipped his head back with an airy groan.

“How does it feel being the life of the party?” you snickered.

He glowered at you through his messy, black bangs before placing a gloved hand on your shoulder and giving you a strong shove that sent you stumbling. You cursed as you regained your balance, ready to retaliate but he was already walking away from you.

“Hey!” You trotted back up to him.

“You’re next, you know,” he said, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You tilted your head to the side, “To be the focus of a party?”

“To join the agency,” he corrected. “When you graduate, you’d better.”

“Oh, of course.” You grinned at him before narrowing your eyes slightly. “But only if you promise to stick around until then.”

“I’m planning on it,” he chuckled, “Unless you piss me off.”

It was your turn to jab at him, but, unlike you, he kept his balance, barely even stepping to the side.

The two of you found a secluded place to sit and chat idly but it was mostly filled with a comfortable silence as you scrolled on your phones. You were only granted a few minutes of social reprieve before Magne came looking for you.

“Are you two aware that the party isn’t out here?” she said, crossing her arms like a disappointed mother.

You and Tenko exchanged a glance, but neither of you said a word.

“Get your asses in there!” She scolded, shepherding the two of you back to the celebration. “We’re taking a group picture.”

Everyone crowded together. You were pushed up against Tenko’s side, and the two of you felt Iguchi drop his arms onto your shoulders. He stood behind you, still clearly visible between your heads, and Toga latched herself onto your free arm. Touya lurked on the very edge of the group while Compress took on a dramatic pose to ensure his theatrics would be captured for all of eternity.

One of Jin’s doubles positioned himself in front of everyone, partially crouched down and shuffling this way and that in order to get the perfect angle.

He didn’t have to tell you to say ‘cheese’ to get you to grin from ear-to-ear.

You felt Tenko’s gloved hand press against the small of your back as the camera flashed, immortalizing the occasion.

–

Seeing everybody grinning back at you in the photo four years later made your heart ache in many ways. You were happy that you possessed that memory as well as a picture to always remind you of it. But you were also tormented by the fact that it would never be recreated.

Unfortunately, plans didn’t always come to fruition.

When you started as a pro-hero at the agency, the world was in too much chaos to celebrate. And even if you held a celebration once everything settled down, Tenko wouldn’t be there to congratulate you.

In spirit, maybe.

When you really thought about it, almost everyone would be missing.

Magne had passed many years ago, when your team was assigned to the Overhaul-Eri case. The war took away Jin, Touya, Sensei, and, of course, Tenko. Iguchi would have stuck around long enough, but Atsuhiro was forced into retirement when the war first started.

In a way, the villains got what they wanted. Countless heroes were decommissioned, and those who remained were no longer viewed in the same positive light as they once were. Criticism was high if a hero couldn’t carry out a job flawlessly and without any casualties. Even then, you were always at risk of being deemed a ‘fame-chaser’ or that you were only in it for the money.

The only heroes that remained were the honest and the resilient.

You liked to think you were both, but as time went on, you grew more unsure. In the beginning, you were more than eager to make a positive impact on people’s lives, regardless of whether or not you were credited or paid for it. Eventually, you met everyone at your agency, and hero work changed your life for the better. Even if you failed a job, you had people by your side to pick you back up and keep you pushing forward.

But now?

Now, you were tired.

You no longer had your support system keeping you motivated and in good spirits. While you still felt pleased with every life you protected, that feeling of fulfillment would be gone by the time your head touched your pillow.

That’s where you were at currently.

With a deep sigh, you let go of the photograph, letting it fall back onto the nightstand, and rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. You shut your eyes, but you knew it would be hours before you actually fell asleep. You would either sleep the day away or you’d barely sleep at all. Rarely could you find a balance between the two.

Usually, you would stay up thinking about how everything ended up the way it did, and whether there was anything you could have done to prevent it all from happening. What could you possibly have done so that your team would still be at your side?

If you were split up differently during the Overhaul raid so that you were in Magne’s group, you could have pushed her out of the way of Chisaki’s fatal touch. If you had stuck by Jin’s side instead of letting him go into the Paranormal Liberation Front’s headquarters alone, you could have fought off Hawks before he landed his deadly blow.

And Tenko…

You’d probably have to end the war all on your own in order to save him. He was at the forefront of every battle, leading the charge. He had no regard for his own safety. He gave up his own body so that Mr. Shigaraki could transfer his quirk and conscience to it. You’re pretty sure that was the point of no return.

After that, you don’t think anything that came out of Tenko’s mouth was truly him.

Whether or not he could even hear you scream and cry for him in the final moments of the war would remain a mystery.

The heels of your hands pressed deeply against your eyes as if you could physically push the thoughts out of your head. You couldn’t do this tonight. You needed to do something, anything, other than lay there and dwell on things of the past.

How could you have known what was to come?

Throwing off your covers, you ripped the last garments from your person and got up to change into something clean and dry. You had to get out of your sad and dingy little apartment. You wiggled your way into a spare hero suit after deciding that lending a helping hand for the night was your best chance at clearing your head.

You made your way back to your agency as quickly as you could through the frigid rain. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were summer time, since the warmth would typically counteract it, but you still had a few months of spring to get through. By the time you arrived, you were a bit damp, but you found it hard to care. Pulling your keycard out of your wallet, you tapped into the system so you could get in.

Even though it was late, there were still a few people around in case of emergency, and none of them were surprised to see you stroll in. Two of them were people you had graduated with, though they did their work studies elsewhere.

“Hiya,” Minji, a pink-haired and bubbly girl, sang to you in greeting. She was sitting alert at her desk, ready for whatever report came her way.

“Hi,” you nodded, walking over to her.

Another girl you attended school with was lounging in the space adjacent to hers, leaning back as far as her chair would allow, both feet propped up on the desk. Her head turned over in your direction before she acknowledged you, “Need something to do?”

“If you have anything,” you said with a shrug.

“I think Sakiko got a call-in just a few minutes ago requesting a hero to accompany the transport of a villain,” Minji chimed with a soft smile, eyes darting over to her companion.

“Uh, yeah. Let me get the details on that,” Sakiko mumbled as she kicked her feet off of the desk and scooted closer to search through her computer. “Yeah, so the police want to transport a villain to a higher security prison… His name is Dai Uchuu. He was involved with Overhaul during the raid, but he was able to escape, and there’ve been no updates on his activity since. We also don’t have any official documentation but his quirk is believed to be a teleportation-type triggered by his hands making contact with each other.”

“Sure, that works. Send me the address, and let them know I’ll be there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The station wasn’t too far from the agency. You walked for maybe ten minutes before you could see its lit-up sign at the end of the block. There was a brief flicker but it recovered almost immediately. However, the lights within the station began to spasm on and off, which was slightly more concerning.

The police relied mainly on quirk-nullifying restraints and cells to prevent breakouts. If they were having issues with the power, then the nullification effects would likely be down, and that would be quite the problem.

You quickened your pace and rushed into the building. The first thing you noticed was the plethora of odd objects that had been thrown about the lobby. There was a bicycle on top of the desk, a canoe sticking out from one of the doorways, and a large tub of paint that was actively rolling across the floor, leaving a trail of blue behind it. You could see a large splatter on the wall where you assumed it had made contact.

The second thing you noticed was the silence. Despite the apparent chaos, not a single cop was in sight. You couldn’t even hear any voices emanating from adjacent rooms. There was no one.

You briefly reported the situation to your agency through the communicator strapped to your forearm and cautiously proceeded onto the other rooms. The holding area and the locker rooms were empty and in similar condition to the lobby. You were about to say the same for the offices, but you noticed a quiet murmur coming from behind one of the far desks.

In a slight crouch and with light feet, you slinked in that direction. As you peered around one of the desks, you saw the villain, Uchuu, still dressed in his medieval garb. His colorful back was turned to you as he rummaged through a filing cabinet. The quirk-nullifying restraints dangled from one of his wrists. One of the officers must have gotten that on him after he had a go at most of the building.

But then why hadn’t you run into him?

You silently reached forward and cast your quirk, causing his clothes to freeze him in place. As you walked forward, he began to snicker. You faltered a step at his odd behavior.

“Of course you would be the one to show up,” he spoke with a strange accent.

“I guess?” You positioned yourself in front of him. You wouldn’t be able to attach the restraint he had on to his other wrist due to it being frozen along with him, so you pulled out one of the few that you carried. “What happened to everyone?”

You reached forward to attach the new set of cuffs, but as you did, you caught sight of the file he was holding.

Was that your name?

The cabinet he was going through was supposed to contain criminal profiles. Just as you were about to question how and why he had one that was addressed to you, you felt a sharp pain on the back of your hand.

“Ow! What the fuck?!” You jerked away and were about the curse the man out for fucking pinching you, before processing the fact that he was standing up. Your surprise had caused you to release your quirk, freeing him.

“What a fortunate turn of events this has been,” he drawled with a wicked grin. You narrowed your eyes and raised your arm to use your quirk again, but before you could, his hands clapped together.

You felt your entire body lurch forward, and for a moment, everything was black.

You figured you must have blinked because it was only a second before you could see clearly again. A wave of nausea began crawling its way up your belly, but you did your best to ignore the feeling while you frantically looked around.

It took you a moment to realize that Dai Uchuu was no longer in front of you. The filing cabinet was closed and no more papers were littering the floor. He must have gotten what he was looking for and bolted… Were you seeing black for longer than you realized?

If he clapped his hands, he must have tried using his quirk but he still had a restraint around one of his wrists. That should have been enough to still subdue his quirk, so he had to be around somewhere.

You quickly made to leave, almost bumping into an officer who was standing up from his desk. He shouted after you, and you gave a clipped apology but kept on your pursuit. As you entered the lobby, you almost ran head first into another officer and had to pause to move out of her way. She didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry though.

“Do you know which way he went?” you quickly asked her as you began walking backwards towards the exit of the building.

She looked perplexed, doing a double take of you. “Who? What were you doing in that area?”

He must not have gone that way otherwise, given his outlandish appearance, she surely would have remembered. That meant he would still be in the building.

“That’s where I found Dai Uchuu. He was going through some of the criminal records but he managed to get away,” you explained, slowly walking back towards her. “I’m not sure what he was looking for, but I’m guessing—”

“Who are you?”

What?

“I’m the hero assigned to your case,” you said matter-of-factly. “You guys sent in a request for help, so I came.”

She jerked her head back, scrutinizing you. “We didn’t—”

“Listen, if you didn’t see him come this way, he must still be in the building. You guys should look for him here, and I’ll check outside in case he found some other way out,” you said as you began a quick pace into the lobby.

They made quick work of cleaning up, because all of the foreign objects that were thrown about when you’d arrived were nowhere to be seen. You noticed even the giant paint splatter was gone. Actually, the entire place looked spotless of even normal dirt and wear-and-tear. Maybe you should’ve hired them to clean up your apartment for you.

The room erupted in clamor as you booked it outside. It was a lot clearer out without the rain, but you still couldn't see any sign of the villain. Leaving it up to intuition, you started sprinting down the road to your left as you updated your agency through your communicator with a request for more heroes to help search.

You were barely running for a minute before you began feeling overheated. There was no way you were that tired already, you didn’t go through all that training for nothing. Then, you realized it wasn’t your body that was too warm, it was the air around you. Not even ten minutes ago, you were freezing your ass off as you trudged to the station in the rain. Now, it felt like the temperature outside was pushing 70 degrees.

Someone had to be controlling the weather. Quirks like that were rare, but not unheard of. Either way, that was somebody else’s problem. You were a little preoccupied at the moment.

You were growing irritated that you hadn’t heard anything from your colleagues. Minji was usually super responsive. She must have stepped away and left Sakiko in charge, which would explain the lack of urgency on their end.

Your pace began to slow as your energy grew more and more depleted.

Your end of the search was proving to be pointless. You passed a run-down convenience store when you decided it would be best to head back to the station to see if the police were fruitful. You heard the chime of the shop’s bell too late, turning on your heel to retrace your steps and crashing into someone as they were exiting.

You jostled back.

There were two people, and your collision caused them to drop their bags, scattering the contents. You crouched down to help them pick up whatever had fallen, hoping they didn’t have any paper products for the rain-soaked ground to get soggy.

Your eyebrows pressed together as you picked up a messy handful of napkins. You looked down at the sidewalk and pressed your hand against it.

It was bone dry.

That couldn’t be right, there’s no way the water would have evaporated that quickly.

You couldn’t ponder the strange occurrence for long as the shoe of one of the people stepped closer to you. Hurriedly, you scooped as many items back into the bag as you could and peered up at them with an apologetic smile. They were already reaching toward you with an open hand. It was a bit too close to your face for your liking, so you leaned away as you stood.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” You pushed the bag into their hand and finally looked at the person’s face to see it was mostly covered by a black face mask and a hood. Despite that, peeking through a plume of dusty blue hair was a pair of fiery red eyes that felt as if they were burning through your soul.

♡ ♡ ♡

➨ Chapter Two

taglist: @boogiemansbitch

[whump-till-ya-jump]

Snippet #2 Part 3

Guys, I think I figured out a name for this series. How does Parallels sound?

TW: Pills and talk of sleeping aids

The child wept in their sleeping bag, trying to muffle the sound of their sobs with a pillow. They flinched when they felt their friend’s hand on their back. “What’s wrong?” the child asked. 

“I-I can-n’t sle-ep,” the crying child complained.

 “Why?”

“M-mons-sters and nh-nightmares.”

 They felt warmth and breathed in the other’s scent as they were pulled into a sweet, tight embrace. “It’s okay, the monsters can’t get us. I’m here.”

…

Hero’s body burned with pain and sores as they made their way through Villain’s kitchen. C’mon, just hold out long enough for this, please. They thought as their grip turned white on the kitchen island. 

…

Villain woke up to the sound of cabinets opening and strained whimpers of pain. They got up out of concern because they knew only one person was responsible. Slippers on, they made their way into the kitchen.

…

“You should not be up right now,” a voice rang from across the room as a light turned on and illuminated a frowning Villain. 

“Yeah? Well, I am, so fucking deal with it I guess,” Hero replied. 

Villain could hear the strain in their voice, but they paid no mind to it as they took notice of Hero’s position. Villain’s eyebrow raised, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m looking.”

“For what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried, you should not be standing or walking.”

Hero sighed and turned to face Villain, “I’m looking for some fucking sleep meds. So, if you don’t have any, then please tell me so I can go back to my prison cell.”

Villain’s frown changed to a look of concern as they walked toward Hero. They truly took in what Hero had become: a skinny figure that was clutching the countertops and shaking, trying to stay upright. “I have melatonin. But, I don’t know if that will help. I can get you something stronger if you were using any before you came here.”

“You mean before you fucking kidnapped me and brought me here.”

“Hero, language.”

An annoyed huff. “I’ll take the melatonin. Thanks.”

Villain moved slowly and predictably toward the cabinet they kept their medications in. I should probably get a lock for that. They took out a pill and held it up to Hero, “I’ll give you this, but please talk to me.”

Hero let out a whine, “No, just give it to me please.”

“Please talk to me,” was all Villain had to offer in reply.

Hero turned and started toward their room, “I’m good then, have a nice fucking night with your melatonin.”

…

Three hours later and Villain once again was awoken by noise from the kitchen. “Hero, this is just pathetic,” they sighed as they saw the familiar sight of sleep-deprived Hero limping their way to the medicine cabinet.

 “You say pathetic, I say necessary,” Hero fumbled with the door of the cupboard, almost losing grip of their countertop support.

 “Here, let me do it,” Villain offered. They quickly overtook Hero and soon had one pill of melatonin, which they slid across the table. 

“What’s the gist?” Hero asked as they eyed Villain.

“No gist, you need sleep, I need sleep. Just take it.” 

“I kinda need water, dummy.” 

…

Content with the outcome of their second venture into the kitchen, Hero was being guided back to their room with the help of Villain. 

“Now that you’re all good, I’ll be heading back to my bed,” Villain announced after Hero sat on the bed. 

“Uhm,” Villain turned to Hero, “Before I go, I thought, uh, I thought this might help.” 

 Villain plopped down beside Hero.

“What?” Hero scowled

Villain hesitated at Hero’s words, but placed a hand on their back. They pulled Hero into an embrace, “Just a hug, to let you know that I’m here.”  

THANKS FOR READING!

(Masterlist)

(also let me know what we think about the name)

TAGLIST: @rosieposey-torturedpoet @piplupfluffwritingstuff2 @and-we-shake-the-iron-hand

[l-1-z-a]

🏪🚪 452-498 University Way: built during the development of the base game

At Sim State University, at 452-498 University Way, there are front doors that have a different name than their name in the Build Mode catalog. This indicates that the lot was created during the development of the base game and the parallel development of the University expansion pack. The difference can be seen not only in the Russian, but also in the English version of the game.

This lot was played before the release of the University expansion pack. The speakers remained on.

Countertop Game Display more expensive than in Buy Mode

The screenshot above also shows the price of the "Countertop Game Display from Group Interaction LTD." on the lot. It's price is §3500, and this is more expensive than it's price in Buy Mode (§1500). This is the same case with this object at the 290 Main Street in Pleasantview.

This is proof that 452-498 University Way lot was created during the development of the base game.

Source (RU):

https://web.archive.org/web/20221222070133/https://thesims.cc/threads/istorija-razrabotki-sims-2.31582/page-130#post-5860130

[sionisjaune]

Mika/Nico 2004 Arctic Rally flirtation on the occasion of @blorbocedes ‘s birthday!

Mika is stripping down to his thermals when the kid slinks inside his cabin, bundled in a thick winter coat, tufts of blonde hair poking out underneath a knit hat. He bites the inside of his cheek, manufacturing a reason to grimace instead of welcoming Nico into his arms like he used to do when he could still call himself innocent. 

“Not your cabin,” says Mika, tugging off a sweaty glove and tossing it on the countertop.

Nico shuts the door behind him and braces himself against it, nose red from the chill outside. His entire face, or at least the part visible between the collar of his coat and the hem of his hat, is chafed red and blotchy. He licks his lips, and Mika’s gaze lingers on the chapped and wind-bitten skin of his mouth. 

“My dad snores,” Nico mumbles. “Just wanted to get some rest—”

“No,” says Mika, immediately. He knows what Nico’s going to ask of him, and he knows that if Nico asks it outright, he’s going to say yes. 

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” says Nico, pouting rather childishly. Mika wonders what it says about him that he finds Nico’s worst moments attractive.

“No,” says Mika again. “Go back to your room. Cabins are for competitors only.”

Nico tilts his head, still tucked against the door in his coat. Mika watches him shuck his scarf and toss it haphazardly on Mika’s sofa. “I could compete,” says Nico. “I’m good on the ice.” 

“You’re not—” says Mika.

Nico cuts him off, a sparkle in his eye. “Old enough?”

“Used to rally,” Mika finishes. “It’s an entirely different sport.” 

“Really?” says Nico, eyes widening. It’s obvious what he’s doing. Mika strips off his other glove and lets it happen anyway, peeling his racesuit down his chest to hang around his hips. Nico makes a parallel move, drawing the zipper open and shimmying the coat down his arms to reveal a tanned neck and collarbones, the result of a half-Finn unaccustomed to his native climate. Mika doesn’t know why Keke bothered to drag him to Lapland to spectate. “Explain it to me,” says Nico. He drops his jacket on the floor and joins his scarf on Mika’s sofa, curling his legs underneath him.

“First of all, you have a co-driver in the car with you,” says Mika. He tugs the racesuit the rest of the way down, pulling it off his ankles one leg at a time. He was going to make use of the cabin’s meager hot water tank and shower off the sweat sticking to his skin, but with Nico around it’s probably best he keeps his clothing on. 

Nico shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself as if to stave off the cold. “I could handle that. I already have an engineer in F3.”

“It’s a different relationship,” Mika corrects. He can’t help but fall into this avuncular role with Nico, like Keke is still in the room.

“A relationship,” Nico purrs, learning over the edge of the couch. Mika bites the inside of his cheek, wondering where Nico learned this from. He stalls for time by folding his racesuit into a neat little rectangle and setting it on the countertop beside his gloves. It reeks of stale sweat and the ankles are damp with melted snow, but if Nico minds he doesn’t say anything. 

Mika sinks into the armchair opposite Nico and watches Nico furtively scoot towards the end of the sofa closest to Mika. His bare arms are startlingly skinny against the thin fabric of a white singlet. The faded jeans make him look like a ten-euro hooker, even though Mika knows Nico doesn’t wear anything that costs less than a hundred. 

“I bet you disregard your engineer all the time,” says Mika.

“No I don’t,” says Nico. 

Mika gives him a meaningful look. 

“Fine,” says Nico. “Sometimes. But only when he’s wrong.”

“Ah,” says Mika. “The difference is that your co-driver cannot be wrong. You trust him implicitly. If he says full-throttle, you don’t break until the finish line.” 

Nico wrinkles his nose. “I can’t picture you taking orders from anybody.” 

Mika raises a hand to massage his temples. “When I need to,” he says. The hand in front of his eyes conveniently blocks his view of Nico curled up on the corner of the couch, but he can still hear Nico twisting and fidgeting around. 

“Tired?” says Nico. 

“Yes,” says Mika. 

“Me too,” says Nico. He shuffles around on the couch again, and then seems to still. A moment later, Mika feels him plop down on the arm of the chair next to him. He drapes his long legs over Mika’s lap and leans close to his ear. Mika removes his hand from his face just in time for a lock of Nico’s hair to fall in his face while Nico murmurs in his ear. “And I’m cold. It’s fucking freezing in here.” 

Mika bites the inside of his cheek again. The flesh is getting raw, like it always does around Nico. 

“Nico,” he warns. 

“What?” says Nico. He’s completely irreverent. 

Mika shifts to create more space between himself and Nico’s skinny frame. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Doing what?” says Nico.

“You know what,” says Mika. 

“I just want to warm up,” says Nico, curling closer. 

“I have to race tomorrow,” says Mika. He can hear his own voice wavering.

The corners of Nico’s mouth curl like a cat toying with its prey. “Nothing that will make you sore.” 

Mika exhales, rubbing his temples again. “Not even pretending anymore?” 

Hearing his permission, Nico slides into Mika’s lap and surrounds him like his limbs are made of putty. He wraps his arms around Mika’s neck and attaches his mouth to the skin above the collar of Mika’s thermal shirt. “I don’t need to,” he whispers. “Besides, don’t you want to see what I’m wearing under this?”

[3-2-whump]

Adjusting Well: A Parallel

<prev next>

By all accounts we weren't going to even have this chapter, but my beta readers convinced me to make this drabble canon. So, here it is. Everyone say thank you to @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for letting Tom live one more chapter and prolonging Khaled's misery

A parallel to Adjusting Well

TW/CW: noncon nudity, multiple whumpers, degradation, emotional manipulation, degrading speech, threat of castration (not followed through), humiliation, noncon oral, self-harming behaviors

“How’s he adjusting?”

Thomas sighed. “Fine, I guess?” He threw a backward glance at a shirtless Khaled from where he sat on the sofa. The slave was engrossed with buffing out the scratches on the granite countertop. “He doesn’t talk much anymore-”

“When did he ever talk much?” Luca shrugged.

“Well, it’s worse now,” Thomas explained. “He just sulks all the time, shambling like a zombie from one room to the next!” He leaned in close to his oldest and most trusted friend. “When I took his cock cage off yesterday, he barely even reacted! Barely remembered to thank me, too,” he grumbled.

“I don’t understand,” Luca said as he furrowed his brow. “This is what you wanted, right? A living fuck doll to keep you warm at night?”

“No, that’s more of what you want, man!” Thomas shook his head, then leaned back onto the couch with a sigh. “I wanted at least a little bit of liveliness, maybe even some enthusiasm, if that wasn’t too much to ask for! I don’t know how to break him out of this slump, or if I even can!” he groaned.

Luca pursed his lips, looked over the side of the couch back at Khaled, and then back at Tom. “Bring him over here, I want to talk to him,” he said.

His friend obviously had an idea, though what exactly this idea was remained to be seen. Thomas craned his head over his shoulder once again to look back at the slave behind them. “Khaled, come here,” he ordered.

The boy looked up from the countertop as his hand holding the cleaning rag stopped buffing. He looked back down at the counter, then sighed, putting the rag down and stepping out from behind the counter. Without the granite and hardwood in the way, it was plain to see Khaled was completely naked. Luca gave an appreciative whistle. Thomas shot him an exasperated look. It was nothing the man hadn’t already seen at this point, but he always leered at Khaled’s nakedness as if it were the first time Tom got the idea to pass him around.

Khaled finally stood before the two men, waiting silently until he was commanded to kneel in the presence of his master.

“So, I heard you’re feeling kind of down,” Luca said as the boy settled onto his knees.

Khaled glanced toward his master, then back at Luca, and nodded somberly.

“Not sure why you’re so upset, though. I mean, really –did you not think your actions would have consequences?” Luca asked rhetorically. Thomas recognized this speech from those few times he’d interacted with Luca and his family before. This was the speech Luca used to use on his sons, with some obvious modifications to fit this specific situation. Never had he ever thought the man would rehash the ‘own up to your mistakes’ monologue onto his slave.

“Here my buddy is, just trying to protect you from your baser instincts –the same instincts that got you infected –and you think you have the right to be upset about it?” He tutted and shook his head in disapproval. “You stupid little slut! You still don’t know how good you have it, do you?” Luca admonished.

Khaled hesitantly shook his head, a flicker of uncertainty crossing those dark, lifeless eyes.

“If you were mine, I never would’ve tolerated this shit! I would’ve had you fixed like the horny little bitch you are the moment I suspected you spreading your legs for someone else!”

Khaled flinched, bringing his hands to his front to shield himself the moment the word ‘fixed’ was uttered. “Khaled,” Thomas warned. The boy nodded his head and reluctantly placed his hands at his sides, exposing himself again.

“You would never have left my sight for even a moment,” Luca continued, “but noooo, Tom felt bad for you and allowed you to ‘make friends’ or some shit! At least it was with Nico, at first –did you screw him to be your friend, too?”

Khaled’s face burned bright red at the invasive question. “What? No, I-”

“Quiet!”

On the other end of the couch, Thomas rolled his eyes. “See, of course now he talks, to defend what little honor he thinks he has left!” he scoffed.

“Honor?” Luca let out a snide laugh. “These slaves don’t have honor!” He leaned back onto the couch and gestured to Khaled as he explained. “No, no, what you think of as honor, I see as favor. Slaves are granted favor at the discretion of their owners, and that favor can be lost just as easily as it can be given. And this one lost favor due to his own actions alone.” He cast a smug look back at Khaled and asked, “So, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Um, I’m sorry?” Khaled murmured.

“Tom, do you accept that apology?”

The boss shook his head as his lips quirked into a wry smile. “No, I don’t think I do. It didn’t feel…genuine enough.”

“Yeah, come on, Khaled,” Luca jeered. “Let’s try that again! What do you have to say to the man who raised you, who waited for you to become legal all those years before laying his hands on you, who gave you everything?”

Khaled gave a shuddering sigh before lowering his eyes respectfully. “I’m sorry,” he answered, voice full of conviction. He effortlessly folded himself over into a bow, planting his forehead onto the carpet in front of their feet. “Forgive me, Master,” he said loud and clear.

“Forgive you for what?” Thomas asked, fully leaning into this game now.

“Forgive me for sleeping around, for taking you for granted, for-for not loving you like you want me to!” Khaled answered.

“How sorry are you?”

“So sorry!”

“Would you like to show us? Go on, boy, show us how sorry you are!”

This reminded Tom of when he and his friends were younger, when they would bully the freshmen at St. Drogo’s and rob them blind of pocket change. Khaled begged and screamed repeated apologies over and over, bashing his face into the carpet repeatedly each time as Luca goaded him on. “Okay, okay, stop, stop, stop!” Thomas commanded, intervening before Khaled could truly hurt himself. “Goddamn, Luca, you’re gonna give him brain damage!” He softened his tone as he redirected his tone to Khaled. “Get up here, sweetheart.”

Khaled raised his head slowly, sporting a deep red, carpet-patterned imprint on his forehead and tears falling from his inky dark eyes. He crawled on all fours until his body was between his master’s legs, his cheek leaning against his master’s thigh. Thomas stroked his face gently, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Show me how sorry you are,” he ordered softly. His hand left Khaled’s face to tug down the fly of his pants. Without a word, his slave pulled his hardening member out of his pants and popped it into the warm, velvety cavern of his mouth, lightly sucking on it and brushing it along his tongue to stiffen it to full mast.

“See? That’s better,” Thomas cooed.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Luca chimed in. “He’s out of his slump and onto your cock where he belongs.”

“God, how do you not have one of your own to boss around already?” Thomas asked, completely ignoring Khaled’s efforts to please him.

“Not all of us have $30k to throw away; some of us gotta put our sons through college,” Luca griped.

Thomas rubbed the back of Khaled’s head, brushing the boy’s shaved undercut against the grain as he hummed contemplatively. “Well, I know it’s kind of gross for me to be offering my used sex toy like this, but you’ve always seemed to take an interest in him.” His hand traveled up to the longer hair on top of Khaled’s head, fisting into it as he pulled the boy’s face further into his lap. “What if I left him to you, if something should happen to me?”

Khaled made a small choking sound, which Thomas shushed away as he continued face-fucking him.

Luca smirked. “If it was anyone else’s used sex toy, I would say they were crazy. But him, I like him. He’s still young, and handsome too. And god forbid anything should happen to you, of course-”

“It’s already happened, Estrada shot me-”

“-I would be happy to take him,” Luca said.

Thomas sighed in relief. That was one less thing to worry about if Julio or anyone else ever succeeded in killing him. They shook on it, with Tom promising to contact his executor on the next business day as he came down his slave’s throat.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[xfandom-fairyx]

marching band au

bakugo fic

here goes nothing..

—————————————————

My car slowed as I turned the corner onto the road that held the dorm house I would be staying in for the next 4 years of my life. The sun was already going down, not quite setting, but the sky was already turning pinkish orange, rays of golden light peeking through the trees that were scattered amongst the houses I passed by. I took a deep breath, trying not to gape at the building at the end of the cul de sac, as I pulled up the cement driveway— where no other cars were parked. I sighed thankfully. Being the first person here meant I got first dibs on the bedrooms, the thought alone sending a wave of excitement through me. The house was gorgeous, and freaking huge. (How many roommates was I supposed to have, again?..)

Double checking I had the correct address from the email in my phone, I pulled my keys from the ignition, fumbling to find the key to the front door. The heat outside was suffocating compared to the cool AC from my car, making me want to quicken my pace a bit to get inside. Deciding to grab the rest of my luggage after a quick look around and picking my room, I grabbed my backpack and purse before heading up the stairs to the front door. The entrance was framed by a beautiful wrap around porch, a few chairs, benches, and a porch swing adorning the wooden planks on each side of the door. Gently swinging the painted blue door open, I took my first steps inside my new (temporary) home, my chest tight with emotion.

The foyer was a bright space, a few meters wide, but felt cozy. Along the wall to the left was a deep blue, cubby-like bench with coat hooks, cabinets and a shoe rack, while the right wall had an oak table with a beautiful crystal decorative bowl, a fake potted plant and a circular mirror. Placed on the table beside the bowl was a slip of paper that had a list of utilities with passwords, app suggestions, and numbers for the local emergency services since we lived off campus. I quickly snapped a picture of and saved it to my favorites album, a subtle reminder to download the security app for the house, and a separate app for the security cameras. I moved to the left again and placed my keys on the cubby hook on the far right, kicking my slides off to set them on the shelf below my keys, my fingers gently grazing the navy stained wood. I was in no real rush as I stepped to the end of the foyer, taking it all in.

“Holy shit.. wow..” was all I could muster in my awe. The house smelled like oak wood and vanilla— the sweet woody combination fit just right in my head and sent me reeling to see the rest of the place I would call home. The bottom floor had a completely open floor plan where I could see everything from almost every angle across the house. To my right, a deep sectional sofa fit for 10 sat in a semi U shape, a chaise piece attached to run parallel with the longest side of the sofa, the whole thing facing a wall with a 75” flat screen, and a decent sized electric fireplace below it. Sat in the corner about 10 feet away from the sofa was a sleek, black grand piano, surrounded by a corner bookshelf that was full of sheet music, vinyl records, CD’s and memorabilia. My eyes flickered to the other side of the space to a grand kitchen, granite countertops, a huge island with a second barn sink, beautifully crafted cabinets, stainless steel appliances (which were huge, by the way! An 8 range stove?? A fridge big enough to hold food for a football team?! Christ!), and a walk-in pantry to top it off? I was in absolute heaven, daydreaming of the cooking and baking I would have so much fun doing in this kitchen.

I made my way to the left, because behind the formal dining table that sat 6 feet from the giant island in the kitchen, was a wide staircase leading upstairs to a loft area, where I assumed the bedrooms were also. There were a few more doors that I would get to later, assuming one was another bathroom or bedroom, and at least one of them led to the garage.

The loft area sat mostly above the kitchen, dining room and above the piano, leaving a full view of the living room area, and the ability to see at least half of the kitchen and dining room from the side opposite the stairs, and the hardwood floors throughout the entirety of the main and second floors. The loft itself had a study area with a few desks lined against the wall; all 4 of them fit at least two chairs, a work lamp on each surface, and a table in the corner that had a computer with a printer, which I quickly assumed was going to be strictly for homework.

As I made my way down the hallway to our bedrooms, I opened each door to peek inside and see which room I would like most. There were 2 spare bathrooms and 8 bedrooms total on this floor, with the two at the very end of the hallway having their doors 45° angled into the hallway. I opened the bedroom to the right first, and immediately fell in love with the wide space, huge windows, walk-in closet, and a third door that I could only guess was my own bathroom. Giddiness flooded my system as I opened the door and saw I was right. I set my bag on the queen sized bed in the space I couldn’t wait to decorate, and decided I should go get the rest of my stuff and start unpacking. It was dusk now, which meant I didn’t have much more time to get my stuff before night fell over the house, so I slipped downstairs and back into my sandals, flicking the porch light on.

The first load I needed to bring upstairs was my bedding, and if I had enough hands, I could grab my laundry bag. I still didn’t have a clue where the laundry room was, but I figured I would figure that out later. Getting back upstairs and to the end of the hallway had my lungs and legs burning, and I groaned out loud at the several other trips down and back up those stairs I would have to make tonight.

“Ugghhh, fuck!” I groaned, pulling my shirt away from my body rapidly, trying to fan myself. By the 5th trip to my car, I was sticky from sweat, out of breath, red in the face and regretting life, but it was my last load to carry before I could stay inside and relish the cool air of the central cooling system. My last suitcase of clothes and a medium sized box that had my favorite dog’s ashes amongst other sentimental items were in my arms as a big black truck came down the road and to a stop in the driveway next to my Camry. I looked away, trying to juggle the box and suitcase around so I could shut the door of my car, the box slipping from my grasp. Just as I was about to drop that super important box, a second pair of hands reached out to help.

“Woah! Careful! Do you need some help?” A voice asked. My panicked eyes met kind vermillion, that gentle tenor voice belonging to a boy with long red hair that was tied back, a touch of black at his roots. His smile was just as sweet as it lit up his face.

“Yeah,” I said breathlessly, “some help would be great!” He grinned wider, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.

“Lead the way, pretty lady,” he charmed. As if my cheeks weren’t red enough from the exertion, more heat crept up my neck and bloomed in my face. I huffed out a giggle, making my way around the car, leading the redhead up the steps and through the house to my room. I opened the door for him to come in and set the box on my bed, and he let out a low whistle.

“Nice space, can’t wait to see what you do with it,” he commented, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“Oi, Shitty Hair, you gonna get your shit out of my car or what? Stop flirting, you just met her,” a voice came from behind him. I peeked around the redhead’s shoulders to catch a glimpse at what looked like Adonis himself. A tall, sculpted blonde with gorgeous ruby eyes was scowling in our direction, his gaze narrowing as he saw me.

Shaking the scrutiny from his gaze off my shoulders, I turned my attention back to the redhead in front of me, trying not to let my gaze wander to his bare arms that were shown off from his cut off t-shirt.

“I’m y/n, by the way. Thank you for helping me with my stuff,” I grinned, holding my hand out for a handshake. He grinned back widely, but instead of shaking my hand, he held his arms out and pulled me into a hug, shocking me at first, but I absolutely hugged back. He felt so warm and his chest was cushioned, (not to mention he smelled amazing! Like marine moss, citrus and driftwood..)

“Name’s Eijiro, but you can call me Kiri, if you want,” he said over my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze before letting go, turning to head back downstairs. As I stepped into the hallway to follow him, two more boys came sauntering into view, one with sunny blonde hair and a black streak in it, the other with raven black hair. They were laughing and giggling at the top of the stairs, trying to trip each other to get to their rooms first, but stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw me. Eijiro chuckled and went around them to get back downstairs. The blonde one dropped all his bags, holding up hand to point a finger at me before shouting,

“GIRL! THERE’S A GIRL IN THE HOUSE!” Like I was some kind of 1600’s witch. The raven-haired boy cracked up, and I could hear Eijiro cackling from downstairs. The ash blonde was coming out of his room from behind me, coming to a halt a few inches from where I stood. I could feel his body heat radiating off of him, the smell of warm honey and sea salt floating to my nostrils.

“Yeah, Sparkplug, she’s a fucking girl. Stop ogling and get back to getting your shit out of my truck.” He said gruffly, grumbling out, “fucking idiot” as he passed us all on his way back downstairs.

Snapping out of my trance, I looked between the new boys in front of me, offering a small smile.

“Anyone up for some pizza and we can do introductions when it gets here?” I suggested, making them grin widely.

I got a, “for sure, man,” from the ravenette, and a, “heelll yeah, brother,” from the new blonde to cement my decision, and I grabbed my phone to open up the Domino’s app.

. • ° * ° • . … . • ° * ° • .

A/N: first part might be a bit awkward, I haven’t written in a while. (Help me out with tags?) Next part is in the works, hopefully as I get back into it, I’ll be more comfortable and it’ll get better. I can come back and edit later if I feel like it’s missing something. Hope you enjoy 🤍

[campdaylighted]

MAP ࿐ ࿔ * : ･ﾟ

THE LOCATIONS AROUND CAMP. to be used as reference for settings . . . or for hiding places and weapons. unfold the map by reading more.

centerpiece of the camp. includes the reception desk, the director's quarters, indoor bathrooms, indoor recreational area, the dining hall & kitchens, the nurse's office, and storage. all doors have a manual lock.

reception desk - the first thing you see upon entering the lodge. this is where parents come to sign up and sign out their children, and counselors get their applications. there is also a rotary phone on the corner of the desk, though because of the camp's woodsy location, reception is unreliable.

director's quarters - the private quarters of the camp director. accessed through a flight of stairs behind the the reception desk, though it is chained off at the base of the staircase, and every door on this floor is locked.

indoor bathrooms - the first two doors on the left of the building, distinguished by the stick figure icons on each, of which is which. inside are three stalls each. there is a gap beneath the bottom of each stall, and the locks are rickety, but these bathrooms are not the main ones on camp, so their being fixed is not a priority.

indoor recreation area - the first door on the right upon entrance. the door opens up to a large polished hardwood room, with indents in it for a volleyball net in the center, hanging hoops parallel to each other, and floor markings for basketball and volleyball. the four walls are lined with thick padding for gymnastics. inside, there is a storage room on the other side of the room, along with an exit door, indicated by the hanging sign.

dining hall - the second and final door on the right upon entrance. inside, the floor is lined with wooden tables and benches carved out of raw wood. each table sits up to eight. the seating arrangement is loose; color coordinated for cabin by tablecloth, and the long table closest to the wall perpendicular to the big entrance door is for staff. the benches are removable, and relatively light for their size. the window to the kitchens has closable shudders, and the door to the kitchens locks upon close.

kitchens - door parallel to the dining hall's entrance. homely style decor, with a school cafeteria-style spread of cooked food upon open hours lining the display case. there are upper cabinets lining the walls for kitchen supplies, and lower ones on the same level as the countertops for cleaning supplies. shelves of ingredients are tucked away in the far right of the kitchens as a makeshift pantry. the stove and dishwasher are counter level, the microwave is above the stove, and the sink is in the island between the display case and the counters. the utensils are in drawer's on the island. there is a giant freezer refrigeration unit in the space that's door locks upon close.

nurse's office - the final door on the left upon entrance. indicated by a placard on its wooden frame labelling it as such. inside, there is a single plastic lined hospital bed, a small counterspace, and two stools placed at the counter. the cabinets line the wall, with emergency aid equipment and first aid kits. the medical supplies are limited to these, too, with things such as bandages, gauze, epi-pens, hydrogen peroxide, thermometers, ice-packs, antiseptic wipes, tweezers, scissors, and ibuprofen. all of this is limited based on demand. use wisely.

storage - found in the indoor recreation area. locked by default; only accessible by key by staff! has a folded up volleyball net, a selection of sports balls and sports equipment, extra chairs for gatherings, and a shelf for extra art supplies. playable indoor sports include but are not limited to: basketball, volleyball, kickball, dodgeball, whiffleball.

directly behind the lodge. includes the lake, the shoreside, the forest, the outdoor department, the arts department, and the bonfire. each day, a new team will do one of the activities, having their own time allotted. small outhouse stalls are evenly spaced throughout the vast area, typically closest to the buildings.

the lake - on the outskirts of the camp. officially called sunrise lake, but nicknamed by campers and counselors as drowned man's lake, due to the campfire scary stories that have been passed down, year to year. more on drowned man's lake in the campfire whispers post. the counselors over the lake teach and manage swimming and water polo, and have lifeguard certification. there is a dock with a lifeguard chair, along with a small pavilion on the open deck space with extra towels and sunscreen, matches and lanterns, and is used as additional storage for the shoreside and the forest's activities. there are no lights past dark along the dock and deck, or in the pavilion, except for the lanterns.

the shoreside - the sandy area lining sunrise lake. the volleyball net from the indoor storage can be brought out for beach volleyball. deck chairs are spread along the sand, to be put up every night into the pavilion's storage space. the counselors over the shoreside are in charge of beach volleyball and typically equally share responsibility with the lake counselors. tall tiki torches are spread evenly throughout the shoreside to keep some light in the space at sunset and night.

the forest - perpendicular to sunrise lake. the shoreside's sand gives way to tall, dense patches of trees with dirt trails woven in between them. the camp's acreage is outlined with a worn white fence, and all trails and activities are within this range and space. the counselors over the forest manage and teach archery, hiking, and survival skills. tall tiki torches are spread evenly throughout the forest to keep light in the space at sunset and night.

the outdoor recreation area - the open space in front of the forest. the equipment and supplies for these activities is located in the indoor storage. the counselors over the outdoor recreation area manage the sports activities, including flag football, soccer, baseball, etc. area must be kept clear at all times to prevent tripping hazards. tall tiki torches are spread evenly throughout the outdoor recreation area to keep light in the space at sunset and night.

the arts department - a little building just past the big space of the outdoor recreation area and to the right of the bonfire. four long tables with five stools on each parallel to each other. canvas line the walls, along with tall, towering shelves of on hand art supplies. the wooden easels are old and becoming frail, but still usable! legs might just break off mid-painting; be careful! the splintered wood is sharp! a counselor must be in attendance at all times because of this - and because some supplies are flammable. door locks manually, but the building is kept unlocked at all times in case of emergency.

the bonfire - big circular area in the very center of the cabins. raw wood benches and stumps surround the giant logpit in its center. lighter for help starting the fire is found in the arts department building. hatchet for chopping wood is locked in the director's quarters and, like everything else in her quarters, is inaccessible without key. marshmallows and hotdogs for roasting are kept in the kitchens, and the pitchforks are hidden somewhere in the kitchen space, so as not to be freely accessible to children. stones surround the firepit so, in the dark of night, counselors or children sneaking about do not get burnt.

in a half-circle formation around the entirety of the camp. all campers are a part of a team and each counselor is a leader of the team. the four teams are the bobcats, the coyotes, the grizzly bears, and the wolves. the teams' cabins are grouped together and the counselors quarters are closeby. there are four cabins per team. there are 10 beds to a cabin. this makes 40 kids per team, and 160 kids total. there are 20 counselors in the counselors quarters. each door locks manually, and the windows have curtains to be drawn.

the bobcats - represented by the color yellow, with yellow curtains and a yellow placard next to the door with bobcats written on it. extra yellow shirts hang in the closet space. the bedspreads are yellow. the only light comes from the sun pouring from the windows, and a lantern in each corner of the room, only lit at night. they are fuel lanterns, and can only can be lit by counselors, who are the only ones with access to the lighters.

the coyotes - represented by the color blue, with blue curtains and a blue placard next to the entrance doors with coyotes written on it. extra blue shirts hang in the closet space. the bedspreads are blue. the only light comes from the sun pouring from the windows, and a lantern in each corner of the room, only lit at night. they are fuel lanterns, and can only be lit by counselors, who are the only ones with access to the lighters.

the grizzly bears - represented by the color red, with red curtains and a red placard next to the entrance doors with grizzly bears written on it. extra red shirts hang in the closet space. the bedspreads are red. the only light comes from the sun pouring from the windows, and a lantern in each corner of the room, only lit at night. they are fuel lanterns, and can only be lit by counselors, who are the only ones with access to the lighters.

the wolves - represented by the color green, with green curtains and a green placard next to the entrance doors with wolves written on it. extra green shirts hang in the closet space. the bedspreads are green. the only light comes from the sun pouring from the windows, and a lantern in each corner of the room, only lit at night. they are fuel lanterns, and can only be lit by counselors, who are the only ones with access to the lighters.

the counselors quarters - a large three story log-cabin building between the last coyotes cabin, and first grizzly bears cabin and sunrise lake. there are ten bedrooms, each counselor having a roommate. the base floor has a common space to unwind and an indoor bathroom and kitchen space. the top two floors each have ten bedrooms. they are not grouped by team, but by assigned names. counselors are not encouraged to leave in the night, but the easy access to the lake and lighters has, in the past, spawned many years of this rule being broken. the head counselor has an emergency key to the director's quarters.

[cressthebest]

Art Heist, Baby! thoughts pt. 10

chapter 28:

this is the heist chapter, so i’m just gonna make it its own post. it will be too long otherwise

1. james thinks that falling in love with regulus is the most exciting thing he’s ever done- more so than the literal heist. they’re so in love

2. hell yeaaaah babey! they even have the clothes sharing trope. regulus looks so small in james’ big t-shirt. fuck yeah

3. they’re all nervous and getting tea in the kitchen <3 they all get along and love each other. do NONE of them have melatonin tho??? babes, medically force yourself to sleep atp

4. peter swears barty’s snoring is so loud there is two people in there. 👀 evan perhaps??

5. i love mary and lily’s friendship so much. like, i love their background friendship in this fic so much. like, i cannot even use words to express how much i love it

6. remus and james fell in love with stars and it’s the most important thing about the heist to them. wait. hold up. i just.

7. “Anyone would be lucky to marry you, James Potter. Plus, I didn’t really think Regulus was the wear your t-shirt, fall asleep in your lap, dance on countertops, type either and yet, here he is.” sobbing. literally sobbing.

8. remus and james being best freinds in this fic instead of the typical sirius and james freindship is healing in ways i didn’t think would need healing. i am healed. they are forever going to be in each others lives.

9. sirius and james matching 😭😭😭. but it also raises the question of what the others are wearing. jeans and blouses? night clothes? leggings?

10. tensions are so high. i feel like i need to be clutching my pearls and holding my breath. this is so stressful. i’m so worried something will go horribly wrong. so stressed

11. i’m also concerned why they are worried about fingerprints but aren’t wearing gloves

12. oh good, they’re wearing gloves actually

13. i love that part of the way sirius’ has his pure blood character show in here is by the way he can tell the price, quality, painter, and style of a painting just by looking at it

14. i love that after the first wolfstar kiss remus got back to james and told him everything. and i love that sirius and james are bringing this up during the heist when their LITERAL LIVES ARE ON THE LINE

15. oh shit there’s footsteps. i’m so worried for sirius and james

16. thank FUCKING GOD THEY ALL MADE IT OUT ALIVE AND UNSCATHED AND SAFE OH GOD I WAS SO SCARED OH MY GODDDDDD

17. still getting a bit of a rosekiller vibe here…

18. shit fuck no shit fuck shit fuck shit fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck fuck shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck fuck shit shit shit fuck shit fuck holy fucking shit there’s police and sirens and holy fucking shit shit shit. stop no, i had such high hopes

19. oh no james thinking that sirius tipped the police off. (but i’m getting a bit of a feeling that this will be parallel to the peter betrayal moments in canon)

20. (not barty letting out a maniacal laugh during a fucking car chase. he’s not helping the sociopath claims)

21. not pandora playing the euphemia card.

22. also, once again, i would like to make a callback to my previous thoughts on point number 18. still thinking that. very worried.

23. god, not james saying i love you to regulus while the police have opened fire on him. i’m so worried. god.

24. it will be fine tho. there’s 10 chapters left. and james isn’t the one who dies. i will be fine.

25. james was shot 😳

26. and they’re all on the plane. they survived. end of chapter. thank fucking god.

[talkingparrotkee]

Still cooking up that Princess Shuri and Eden Fesi archive + blog, but in the meantime:

"This is ridiculous. Stultifying.

Those were the only adjectives Shuri could fathom to describe the contents of the American periodicals Ms. Marvel had proudly spread out on her countertops the last time the Princess visited her."

☆

I made a footnote of comic books to check out to learn more about these characters! To get their characterizations or references, I highly recommend checking them out! A little other media trivia is there, too. 😊

Shuri's relationship with Ms. Marvel:

Manifold being the key needed to reach Shuri on the Djalia plane/Shureden's library talk about it:

Examples of shureden parallelism in story and personality (their akin personalities, aspirations, and traumas):

These aren't everything (at all), but just a few images. The rest is for the masterpost. 🤭

I finally braved freeing a one-shot from my Google Docs draft jail because A) they're worth it, B) they give me brain rot, C) it's how I cope with Marvel slow burning me with them to death since 2016, D) if Marvel or others won't explore them more, I will!