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trillian-anders · 4 years

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amor de mi vida - 1949

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 3362

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

Sunset Park was ever growing with Hispanic population, in the years since you and your Mother came to New York the population had grown and people, while still not allowing certain people to mix, there was a little less of a stigma of someone brown walking down the street. Surprisingly enough the property you’d found was right across the street from the bodega where Bucky had first dragged you in trying to buy bread and the man refused you. It straddled the line of the Hispanic and white population in Brooklyn.

It was the perfect spot.

The upstairs level would be for sewing and crafting, the downstairs would house the shop and sales. Bucky and George painted the upstairs and downstairs, fit new light fixtures, and fixed the shoddy wiring that hadn’t been worked on, you were convinced, since electric light had been invented.

“What do you think?” He asked, coveralls splattered with paint and sweat on his brow. You grin up at him,

“I love it.”

The women you’d been selling dresses to over the past few years now had somewhere to shop and you could sell more products standardly while offering tailoring services. A big, ‘EVERYONE WELCOME’ sign in the front window. Which means you had to hire more people. You stuck to hiring women, the women who wanted to work in your community.

You figured things were going pretty well, until the first time you were vandalized. Broken glass and a clear message of not being welcome a month into opening. You couldn’t help but figure it might have something to do with the man across the street who seemed to remember your faces.

He stood there now, arms crossed. Lips pressed so tight they almost disappeared from his face. You huff, trying not try cry as the girls help you sweep up the glass. You called Bucky, knowing he was home with the kids, from the back office.

“The front window is shattered.” You couldn’t help but cry when you heard his voice.

“Okay,” He sighed, you could hear Grant fussing in the background, “Let me call my Pa and I’ll see what we can do.” The police didn’t care, but George was the one who originally talked to the inspectors and bank having already started his own business before.

He had someone out in an hour to fix the window and to install new, easier to pull down, grate for them.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, he’d finally got the kids to sleep. The excitement of Mama coming home and a quick dinner had been followed by a carefully orchestrated bath and bedtime routine. Now it was just the two of you, and the bottle of wine you’d opened.

“We are very lucky,” You start, “In New York they haven’t banned us being together, they segregate, sure, but we have a good amount of people who believe in integration. We don’t have a lot of problems with prejudice so sometimes I forget.” His hand met the back of your neck, massaging. “It’s just a little bit of a wake-up call.”

He shrugs, “I thought that now Jackie Robinson was playing for the Dodgers that people would be a little more accepting.” You glare at him and he laughs. “If we are being honest here...” Bucky sighs, taking a sip from his glass, “I worry about our kids.” He leans further into the couch, “I worry all the time about the day we have to send Jaime to school, I worry about them playing outside. I worry about things happening to you and the kids when I’m not here.”

People respected Bucky Barnes. He was a war hero, right hand man to Captain America himself. You lost count of the amount of times you’d take the kids for a walk and be stopped. Women wanting his autograph and men wanting to thank him for his service to the country. There was a level of protection there. It was possible that it was keeping you and your children safe. Not out of the realm of thought. Especially when you were actually with him out.

Without him was tight smiles and folks crossing the street to avoid you, like you were some kind of threat to them.

You lay your legs on his lap, wordlessly asking him to rub your aching feet. You’d worked the floor all day, first cleaning up glass and then helping with customers and you did four fittings in the afternoon. He drains his glass and begins to rub your stocking clad feet.

“How was the shop today besides the window?” Thumbs digging into the sole of your foot you moan, letting your head roll back against the armrest of the couch.

“Good, we sold ten dresses.” He switched to a different foot, “I think Amara and Rosalyn are a little more than friends.” He pauses, looking at you.

“Like?” You nod.

“Huh.” He shrugs, “That makes a lot more sense.” The two women, your first employees, told you they moved in together to save money and were tired of living in the boarding house. With their savings they bought a cute little property not far from the store. They also adopted a few animals.

“What did you think?” He shakes his head,

“I just thought they were strange.” They always seemed so fidgety, like they were doing something suspicious when you weren’t in the room, but it would make sense of having the fear of getting caught. An interracial marriage some could be okay with, but a same-sex marriage? That was a whole different story.

His fingers danced their way up your skirt, to your hose, removing the stay ups slowly, keeping eye contact, while massaging your foot with his other hand his fingers slipped under the hose and rolled the first one down your leg. Then the other.

“I missed you today.” He whispered, kissing your ankle. “We all missed you today.” He tapped your leg, tugging gently on your thigh to get you to sit up, straddling his lap. His erection was already straining against his trousers. You ground yourself against him, meeting his lips. His hands held your hips, moving you against him enough to tease. “It’s so sexy,” He whispers, going for the button on his slacks, you lift up, shimmying your panties off and tossing them to the side. “You're going off to work,” A breathy kiss, you bury your fingers in his hair, tilting his head back as you press kisses down his jaw and onto his neck. “You’re so talented dahlin.” He groaned as you sunk down onto him, rocking your hips with his hands. “So fucking talented.”

“Te quiero mucho.” Kisses wet and sloppy as you muffle your moans against his lips. His hand held the back of your neck, body slipping down to hover his hips off the couch, bringing your body close to his in order to thrust upward into you. Mouth pressed tightly to keep quiet while you came, fingers dipping between your thighs to strum your clit, riding out the pleasure while Bucky’s hips stuttered with release.

“I love you too sweetheart.” Erection staying stiff inside you. He breathes and lets you collapse on top of him before sighing, “We forgot to use a rubber.”

And just like that, pregnant again.

You pretended to be hateful. “This is all your fault.” But Bucky just laughed. “You planned this.” Grant crawled over his shoulder, going to tumble down his back, letting Bucky catch him before he falls, laughing and doing it again. Dia and Jaime were playing with the new dollhouse she’d received for her birthday. A present that ‘Santa’ brought her, but was really bought from Macy’s and you didn’t even want to ask Winnie how much it cost.

This pregnancy was a little rougher than the last three. You felt sick constantly and the ginger mints only did so much, aside from the fact that you started showing almost immediately. Your feet were swollen from working at the store and a rushed doctor visit was needed after you’d started spotting.

“Bed rest.” Was what the doctor said, you’d huffed indignantly. The last three pregnancies you’d lived normally up until the day they were born and the doctor had the nerve to tell you that it was because you were older now. You weren’t even thirty yet.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky tried to calm you down after you cursed the Doctor, “He’s an asshole, but if he’s recommending bed rest, you should probably rest.” So the keys to the shop were handed over to Amara and Rosalyn.

“I hate this.” You grumbled, the kids were a mess today, and you felt very stressed. You couldn’t do anything right for Jaime, Dia seemed to want nothing to do with you, and Grant was throwing a tantrum over a soft breeze. “When are you coming home?” You could hear him pause on the other end,

“About an hour left and I should be on my way.” The longest hour of your life.

The sickness, the bleeding, the swollen feet. You’d been blessed with twins by the way your belly was measuring. “You did this.” And Bucky laughed.

You sat in Peggy’s kitchen, snacking on a cheese plate she layed out for the two of you, grumbling about it.

“He doesn’t know what it’s like.” Peggy, radiant as ever, nods in understanding, “In the seven years of our marriage I’ve been pregnant for four of them. The other three he was gone.” Every year you’d been together resulting in pregnancy. Jaime and Dia within months of each other. Grant a little while after that, and then a break in between him and now. “I love my kids,” You defend, “But you’ll understand when you have them.” You sigh, rubbing your belly, “It’s difficult.”

“I’m not sure Steve and I are ready quite yet.” She laughs, “Our work is dangerous,” She wasn’t joking. You knew their apprehensions, you felt them every time Bucky walked out the door. You weren’t sure if he was coming home or not, every time. “But I’m living vicariously through you in the meantime.” The playpen was set up in the living room, the three kids in view of you, playing quite loudly to the noise of the radio. The boys were out back, fixing loose shingles on the roof.

“You can take one if you want,” You joke, arching your back trying to relieve some of the pain. Bucky stepped inside behind Steve, grabbing a drink from the fridge he lays a sweaty kiss on your cheek before going over to the chorus of Papa from their sitting room. Dia was the one who wanted his attention the most, her little feet climbing up on the gate and reaching her arms out to him while Grant and Jaime quickly lost interest as the noise from the radio changed. Bucky picked her up and brought her over to where you were sitting, handing her a piece of cheese to nibble on.

“You trying to sell our kids?” He asked.

“I’m trying to give them away for free.” Another kiss to your head and a hand on your belly.

“Baby.” Dia said. Pointing to your stomach.

“That’s right mija,” You smiled, “You want to feel the baby?” She nods, chewing on a finger. Bucky sits her on your lap, your sweet girl’s hair was finally growing, the soft brown curls done back with a bow, she put her hands on your tummy.

“Big belly.” She whispers, tapping on your stomach.

“There’s two babies in there mija.” She scrunches her nose, tapping on your belly again before reaching beside you for some more cheese. Bucky takes down the gate for the playpen, the other kids coming around to snack on cheese. Jaime whining to come up into your lap as well, Grant behind him. Peggy picks up Grant, settling him in her lap. Bucky taking Dia for you to let Jaime snuggle up into your lap. His body curled around your tummy, thumb in his mouth.

“Who would have ever thought.” Steve mused, “I thought you were crazy for chasing her the way you did.” Bucky chasing you, ten years ago now. So young and naive.

“I thank God every day that I did.” He grins at you and you could almost see the way he looked when he was seventeen, when he ran into you on the street and dragged you into a shop you knew you wouldn’t be allowed in.

You smile back, “Me too.” When Bucky leans in for a kiss Jaime groans and pushes him away, pulling you to him and making you give him a kiss on his forehead instead.

“Mama.” He whines, “I’m hungry.” You give Bucky a look.

“Alright mijo, let's get you something to eat.”

Something was wrong next door. The only reason you knew that was because the house was quiet today. Bucky had taken the kids to his parent’s house so you could nap, so you heard the shouting clear as day. You slipped out of bed, and walked to the bedroom window, the window facing the side of Martha Green’s house. The shouting was loud, almost frightening. Your hand fumbled with the bedside phone, dialing quickly.

“James,” You rest a hand on your belly, still looking out at the house, but their blinds were shut, “Something is happening next door, I think he’s hurting her.” There was a blood curdling scream you were sure he could hear,

“Call Steve,” He said, “I’m on my way.”

Steve didn’t answer, you placed the phone in the cradle and heard another scream. Waddling down the stairs, you knew it would take Bucky thirty minutes to get home. Another call to Steve, another unanswered call.

You could hear glass break. And you called the police. But how far out were they? You could hear her screaming and crying. There was a gun by the front door that felt heavy in your hands, shaking and nerves you walked outside, to her house and up the stairs. You knocked on the front door, hard.

There was a pause in noise, the gun heavy in your hand, hidden in the pocket of your house dress. The front door ripped open. You’d seen Martha’s husband a number of times and you believed Bucky when he said he didn’t think that he treated her very well. There was a wild look in his eyes and behind the small crack he opened you could see the shattered remains of what must have been their china cabinet.

You swallow nervously, but quickly ask, “Is Martha here? I uh… I came to return this.” In a quick moment of clarity you’d grabbed the glass dish you’d left by the front door that you’d asked Bucky to take back to Winnie, you thanked God he was forgetful in that moment. His jaw was tight and he looked down at the casserole dish in your hand.

His grip was rough on the dish, yanking it from your hand, “I’ll be sure to give it to her.” You see movement in the background, Martha. The two children hiccuping in tears as she ushered them in the closet under the stairs. You could see the bruises blooming on her face. “Is there anything else you need?”

“I would just like to talk to her.” You found some firmness.

“I’m sure she would not like to talk to you.” And you knew why. A spit at your feet. Your jaw clenched, your ears listened for sirens but you couldn’t hear any. It felt like it had been twenty minutes but you knew it had only been maybe five.

“Martha!” You called behind him. His hand quickly shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you into the house.

“You nosy fucking bitch.” Your back met the hallway wall, fingers fumbling for your gun. You quickly pulled it and aimed it at his chest. He looked startled and backed away.

“Martha.” You could see her out of the corner of your eyes, “Grab the kids and go to my house.” She was frozen in the doorway, the anger from her husband clear on his face. “Go!”

You were shaking, which was a mistake, he rushed you. You fired the gun but it missed, the bullet embedding itself in the wall above his shoulder. He quickly grabbed your arm and brought a fist down on your face. You fired the gun again, clipping him on his arm. Screaming as you fell, hands coming to protect your belly as you fell. The gun spun out from your grip.

Martha’s husband, the big hulking man he is, stepped over you and grabbed the gun, pointing it in your face. You gasp, coming back onto your knees, eyes springing with tears.

“You stupid fucking bitch.” He spits, pulling the hammer back. You’ve made a mistake. Your heart in your throat you grab your belly.

“You’re a fucking coward.” It springs from your throat before you can help it. His upper lip curling, his finger tenses on the trigger. But before he could pull it you see a flash of metal, Bucky’s hand going to grab his wrist with the gun and in one instant, disarms him and the gun, flinging the piece of metal to the side he wraps his arm around Martha’s husband’s neck, bringing him to the ground.

When he arrived home he found a bruised and beaten Martha sitting in his den, her two sobbing kids beside her. When she told him where you were, his heart dropped. He felt like he was going to be sick. He snuck through the back door and came into the hallway through their den. Stopping the man about to take his wife away from him.

“What were you thinking?” He would yell later. Crying. Both of you. “I told you to call Steve.”

“I did.” You were blubbery, “He didn’t answer.” Bucky sighed, scrubbing his hands over his face before turning back to you and sighing heavily.

“Come here baby,” A tight hug to his chest, “I’m sorry. You were so brave, I’m sorry.” Hands rubbing up and down your back as you cried. “Please, never do that again.” You’d talked to the police, Bucky backing your story and telling them what he’d done. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The next day Martha showed up on your doorstep, an apology pie in hand. “I just wanted to say thank you,” She was looking at her shoes. You stepped aside, inviting her in. Settled down at your kitchen table with a cup of coffee she continues, “I honestly thought he was going to kill me yesterday.” A rough swallow, “He almost killed you.” Her blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. “I’m sorry I was so jealous of seeing how your husband treated you.” Her lips swollen with bitten worry, “And I used race as an excuse to treat you poorly and for that I apologize.” Her hands shaking, you reach over to comfort her.

“I forgive you,” a mutual cry between new friends. “Listen,” You scribble down your number on the pad by the phone. “If you need help you can always call, James’ work…”

“I know what he does.” She thumbs the paper. “He’s a good man.” You smile softly,

“Yeah, he is.” You muse at the thought,

Ten long years have led to this. Five children and an ever passionate love between the two of you that, at first, you thought was a simple infatuation that would pass with time. But he loved you, he married you. He helped you create five beautiful children and you couldn’t help but love him endlessly for that.

He’s shown you how intensely he loves. Every single day. And doesn’t relent, even when things had gotten a little hard. You admire him for that, and know that he was true in every sense of the word.

His love was all consuming and with every kiss he lay on your lips the relationship between you grew more solid.

He truly was the love of your life.

And you were his.

taglist // @corneliabarnes @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @albinotigerpython @cake-writes @iheartsebastianstan @000bananaclip000 @shadowbusiness @sprinkleofbooty @gifsbysimplysonia @vhsbarnes @loseralert @wendaiii @mcueveryday @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious @thefandomzoneisdangerous

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #1940s!bucky barnes #1940s au #latinx!reader #latina!reader #sebastian stan #captain america #the falcon and the winter soldier

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yulmoldauer · 4 years

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its better not to say such things out loud (Tyson Jost/OC): Chapter One

part 2

Story summary: Mason Wright was recently traded and because an Av. Sometimes a fresh start with a new team across the country is what a guy needs, right? It seems to work out, going to a place where no one truly knows you. That is, until someone finds out what you’re desperately trying to hide.

Chapter 1

Summary: Mason’s had a rough game, to put it simply. It was never the best idea to get into a fight with someone bigger than you. They won even with him taking a five-minute major for fighting halfway through the third period. The team goes out to celebrate his 23rd birthday post-win and Tyson takes care of getting him home and to sleep safely.

Warnings: None, I believe! Just some drinking mentioned and there’s a drunk character if that makes you uncomfortable. There’s also a slur against lgbt people used.

Words: 1,968

Notes: The title is from The Stigma (Boys Don’t Cry) by As It Is. This is the thing with the LGBT main character that I’ve had a few different people tell me they’d be interested in :) I’m having a lot of fun writing and plotting this so far, so let me know if you enjoy!

There were perks to being smaller than most other people in the league. Being an extremely fast and skilled defenseman was one of them.

Being outmatched in every possible articulation, being compared to a chihuahua yapping at a pitbull, everything like that. Which is how he ended up in the penalty box for five fucking minutes, the asshole in the box next to him chirping him the entire time, it seemed like.

“What are you, a fag?”

That was what Mason heard fly by him, aimed at Jost who wouldn’t get into a fight to draw a penalty. Mason knew for a fact that’s what the guy was trying to do. He still took the bait when Tyson didn’t.

Mason was smaller than nearly every player he knew. Watching him get into a fight was exciting yet painful at the same time for anyone with a brain. The other guy was at least six-foot compared to the five-foot-eight Mason. To say it was outmatched…

Mason was going to be lucky if he didn’t come out of this with some scrapes and bruises. A broken nose was pretty likely as well, once he thought about it.

But hearing that word ignited something in him that overtook the reasoning section of his brain and both of them were dropping gloves. Sure, he’d definitely have a black eye tomorrow, but he’d gotten a few good licks in as well.

They still won the game, which was nice.

“Dude, you gotta at least get into it with guys in your weight class.”

“You’re funny, Landeskog. Whole fucking league is out of my weight class,” Mason huffed as he stripped his padding off of his lean torso.

“Yeah, kinda the point,” Zadorov shrugged. “Not your fault you’re smaller, just the way it is.”

“I get it, I’m short,” he ran a hand through his wavy helmet hair and reached down to unlace his skates. “Z, you can fight for me, then. I’ll run my mouth and you can do all the hitting.”

“With you? Don’t take it, man, Wright can go on and on for hours,” Tyson chirped from across the room. That earned him a glove chucked at his face.

“Fuck y’all. I don’t even have a good comeback.”

“Because it’s true!”

Okay, maybe it was true. Mason was just a talker, it’s how it was.

Tyson gave him endless shit about it, but really he didn’t mind. He actually enjoyed just being able to turn his brain off and absorb whatever stuck from what Mason was going on about. Usually it didn’t even matter--ranting about how a show got robbed of some award that doesn’t even matter, spewing information about whatever book he was reading, going off about whatever asshole did something stupid during his day-- Tyson would just let him go until he ran out of steam. Conversations were nice, too, when he was in just a talkative mood as well.

Mason did know how to shut up, though. Sometimes. (Hint: that’s what made him the favorite out of the Wright/Zadorov best friend duo. He could be quieter than Z. They’ve threatened to separate the two on multiple occasions, though.)

“What’d that guy even do to rile you up? You looked pissed,” Nate broke Mason out of his train of thought.

“Just called someone something stupid. I’m not gonna repeat it.”

“He called me a fag because I wouldn’t take the bait for the penalty,” Tyson said soon after. “He’s just a fucking moron because he got a longer penalty than any of us.”

There was an uncomfortable moment as that sunk in, then a few “what the fuck” or “that’s gross” phrases before people moved on to heading to the showers.

Mason was about to sneak away when Tyson called out his name.

“Hey, I wanted to catch you before you hit the shower. You got a second?”

“Yeah, sure. I just have to do some pt kind of stuff before I shower. What’s up?” he offered with a friendly smile.

“I just wanted to thank you for sticking up for me. You definitely didn’t have to, but calling him on it drew a ton of attention to it. I think it’s really important to start weeding that shit out of the sport, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Mason smiled. “I--thanks, man. That means a lot to me.”

“‘Course,” Tyson gave a nod. “And you know if you were, like… y’know, gay or… anything, really, I wouldn’t care. And neither would anyone else on the team. It’d totally be okay.”

Mason wanted to give him a reassuring “I know” but couldn’t. Hockey was definitely not the environment known for welcoming lgbt kids and turning them into well-adjusted, accepted adults.

“Thanks,” Mason murmured. “Really, that means a lot.”

“Of course,” Tyson breathed, like he was getting a huge weight off his chest. “Um, yeah. I’ll let you go do your physical therapy stuff now. I’ll see you at the bar after everything’s done here?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna ditch you for my birthday, idiot.”

With an excited smile, Tyson turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Once he reached an area to chill out while waiting for the showers to clear out, Mason sighed, plopping into a chair and resting his head in his hands.

Obviously he knew why Tyson brought up starting to call out homophobia and other bigoted shit they were all used to just overlooking. But why did he bring up the whole ‘we’d accept you no matter what’ thing?

The thought of ‘he was very sensitive to a slur so maybe he’s gay’ never crossed Mason’s mind. That would simply be too easy and rational.

Did Tyson know he was different? What exactly did Tyson know? There was no way Tyson would out him, but still. Trusting people to keep a secret was hard. It was just easier to bottle everything up.

God, he needed to figure this out.

Maybe he’d get drunk enough tonight to just forget for a little while. He didn’t get drunk or even drink all that often, he could let go every now and then.

At the beginning of the night, Gabe took his keys, promising that he’d give them to whoever would be driving Mason home. They all knew for a fact Mason wouldn’t drive drunk, it wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Honestly, they were more worried about the newly twenty-three-year-old losing them or putting them somewhere so he’d ‘remember where they are later’, which was proven ineffective at the last gathering Gabe threw.

“If you can’t figure out where the stupid keys are, he can come get them in the morning or I can drop them off to him or something,” Gabe rolled his eyes.

“You’re sure you don’t remember where you put them?” JT triple-checked. He’d been the designated driver for a few of them, including Mason, Tyson, and a couple others who had already gotten out to the car.

Mason shook his head. “I’m not even that drunk,” he insisted.

“Uh-huh. Gabe, just let me know if you find ‘em and we can work something out for him in the morning.”

Twenty minutes later, Gabe sent a picture and “anyone know who these belong to?” in the group chat. It was, without a doubt, Mason’s keys, adorned with a keychain reading “DETROIT” in graffiti lettering. He was from Detroit, and everyone knew that he refused to take that keychain off until it literally fell off for some sentimental reason, most likely.

‘Lol where’d you find it?’ someone texted back.

‘My dishwasher. His wallet was there too’

Mason has still never heard the end of that. No matter how hard he tried to explain that when he put them somewhere, it meant that he wouldn’t lose them or buy something stupid online (last time that happened, he bought a thing to hang on a window so your cat could sit on it and sunbathe. Mason has not owned a cat at any point in his life.) and he’d remember where it was once he sobered up.

Of course he still gets relentless shit for it. He wouldn’t expect any different.

Currently, Mason and Z were arm wrestling over a table in the back of the bar, people beginning to call it quits and going home. And with his pride hurt that he could not beat Z in an arm wrestling match, Tyson stole the other’s keys and wallet from Gabe, saying goodbyes and forcing Mason to as well.

“You are blasted, man.”

“Mmph,” he shrugged and laid his head against the passenger window. “I wanna lay down and sleep.”

“You can when I get you home. Gimmie your seatbelt so I can buckle you in.”

Mason followed the order with a small pout, not drunk enough to the point of incoherence but… definitely a little fucked up. Tyson had done this before: dealing with the mopey friend at the end of the night. Mason was definitely one to get mopey or clingy once they left the main event.

“My face hurts.”

“That checks out, buddy. I’ll get you some ice for it back at your place. What?” Tyson continued to ask when Mason stared out the windshield all angsty.

“Still can’t believe I couldn’t beat Z.”

“That guy could slam most of us through a table, don’t beat yourself up.”

“Can’t. Someone already did.”

“You’re full of jokes, huh?”

Mason just grinned sleepily as they pulled into the apartment complex and Tyson had an arm wrapped around his friend to keep him steady. Getting a drunk person to go to bed was usually one of the hardest parts of the night.

“Would you just--”

“I got it,” Mason huffed, fumbling with his keys near the lock of the door.

“Dude.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna wake up my neighbors,” he grumbled, finally getting the door open with a triumphant “see? I’m an adult.”

“I see. Go be an adult and get ready to go to bed,” Tyson rolled his eyes, taking the keys out of the door and locking it behind them.

“I don’t wanna sleep,” he replied quickly.

“You’re drunk, what do you mean you don’t want to sleep?”

“Not tired,” he flopped down on the couch.

“At least get out of your clothes. That way if you fall asleep it’s in pajamas.”

Mason was sprawled out, already clicking through Netflix.

“Fine, I will go get you pajamas. Here,” Tyson pressed a cold compress to a bruise on his face and headed to the bedroom.

“Thanks for driving me,” he heard from the other room.

“‘Course,” Tyson called back. “Here, put these on,” he tossed the clothes at Mason.

“Are you staying here? You can take the guest room, if you want.”

“Sure. Probably easier than trying to get home this late,” Tyson shrugged and headed for the kitchen. As he heard the rustling around of what he assumed was his friend changing, Tyson got a glass of water and painkillers for when Mason woke up.

“I can drive you home tomorrow,” Mason slurred even more heavily as he began getting more tired. He’d managed to get his jeans off and a pair of shorts on before moving onto the shirt. He’d just pulled his shirt off when Tyson walked back in the room with the water.

“Woah,” he said quietly, stopping quickly.

For whatever reason, he’d never realized that he had never seen his teammate and friend shirtless. That was weird, especially when you played sports together for a living. He assumed it was due to the faded scars along his chest, almost in a u-shape under each pec.

He didn’t even know what kind of injury would cause that kind of surgery.

“When did you get surgery?”

Fuck was all that ran through Mason’s head.

#nhl #hockey #mens hockey #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #fanfiction #m/m ship #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fandom #nhl fandom #tyson jost #avalanche #colorado avalanche #Colorado Avalanche fanfic #my stuff

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zambie-trashart · 4 years

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Dark Owl: Rewritten Series

read whole series right here (click it!!!!!!)

it’s been a hot minute and this was me writing the last part of this thing

Summary: A wannabe hero takes a stand and actually thinks he’s a hero. Chat and Ladybug have to figure out how to stop him from hurting himself while making his wish come true. When a slip up happens and the Super sons aren’t there to help, what will two heroes do?

...............................

Adrien was walking out of school with Nino and Jon and Nino asked if they could hang out after school.

“Sorry I have lessons again,” Adrien said looking at Damocles while walking out of the school.

“Jon?” Nino asked hoping that at least he would be able to hang out.

“Sorry Nino, my dad is calling today. He never really has a lot of time to call so I want to be there when he does,” Jon said and it was true, he did miss him father and the rest of his family.

The truth was that Chat and Superboy were supposed to look after Damocles as he played hero and it was getting tiring. Robin and Ladybug took last night and it was only a matter of time before Damocles gave up on his dream of being a hero and stuck to running his school.

Superboy met Chat on a roof half asleep just floating in the air.

“Superboy?” Chat said snapping the his face trying to wake him up. Superboy shook his head waking up just little more. “Maybe we should try and get Damocles to stop trying to be a hero, it’s really messing with you and if Hawkmoth has bigger plans, we’re going to need you.” Chat looked at Superboy who turned bright red.

“Yeah, but we can’t just ruin his dreams of being a hero,” Superboy heard Damocles talking about getting a cat of a tree. “He’s in the park, there’s a cat in a tree. Classic,” Superboy said and the two were on their way to the park.

Damocles was in the tree and about to fall out when Superboy caught him and Chat held the kitten.

“You should really be more careful, at least wear a helmet,” Chat said handing the kitten back to the family.

“You two don’t wear helmets,” Damocles said pointing to the two heroes.

“Well, yeah cause we have powers and not to brag but I’m nearly invincible,” Superboy said and the two were off after a confessional moment with the principle after he admitted that all he wanted to do was be a hero.

Chat and Superboy met up with Ladybug and Robin that night and the two were sparring.

“Aw, you two didn’t invite me?” Chat asked wiggling his eyebrows and Superboy laughed before yawning.

“Who knew aliens could get so tired?” Ladybug asked patting Superboy on the back.

“We have to stop that principal, he’s going to be the death of my sleep schedule,” Superboy said collapsing on the roof.

“We could scare him and make him not want to be a hero,” Robin suggested and the others looked at him like he was crazy.

“And crush his dream, no way. We should make his dream come true,” Superboy said eyes lighting up. Ladybug looked over at Superboy already knowing his plan while the others just starred at them a little scared of what they were planning.

...............................

Marinette and Jon had stayed up all night making a costume for a fake supervillain and on the way to school, Jon got a call from his father that he was needed to help take down Lex Luthor in America.

“Sorry, Marinette let me know how it goes,” Jon said before running off and two seconds later a streak of blue and red could be seen in the sky.

“Yeah, no problem Jon,” Marinette said looking down. Damian had also walked out of the building because his father texted him saying that there were attacks of major supervillains all over the country.

That took out two heroes for their plan.

After school, Chat and Ladybug went to Alya’s house and asked her for help. She was turned into Cardboard Girl and everything was going according to plan until Owl messed up and Ladybug called him by his real name.

#I am the Owl was now trending but not for something good, no, Mr. Damocles was not a symbol for good but for laughs and jokes.

...............................

Later that night, Marinette was texting Jon asking how the big mission was going and something popped up on his screen. It was an owl symbol and a message telling all of the heroes to go there. Marinette hung up with Jon and transformed leaving Jon questioning what was happening over in Paris.

Chat met up with Ladybug at the stadium and they sat looking at the Dark Owl as he waited for them.

“He has so many weapons that any of them could be his akuma,” Ladybug said frustrated. Chat went down to distract him but failed when Ladybug went down to attack and they were soon trapped in a line together that Chat had to cataclysm out of. The timer was running low and they wouldn’t be able to save the animals in time and as if on cue, the timer started beeping signaling one minute left.

Chat jumped on top of a shipping container to get the clock and he tried to stop it but it he couldn’t. Ladybug went up to see and they fell into the container which successfully trapped them.

Both of the heroes were going to detransform soon and there was no use in trying to hide who they were at that point cause Dark Owl could just expose them but Ladybug covered up the camera in ink so they at least had a little time to think. The container started filling up with whipped cream. Chat’s last pad on his ring disappeared and the two closed their eyes. Dark Owl told them that there was only one way out and a second later, Ladybug detransformed too.

They went to hold their breath but something punched the container making a hole and the cream started to flow out and the two heroes turned around feeding their kwamis. An unknown voice was heard from outside laughing hysterically. It sounded like Superboy but a lot deeper.

“OH MY GOD he thinks he’s Batman, wait until the others see this!” the voice yelled and the young heroes transformed and exited the crate. They saw a tall man with black hair and a black suit with some blue going across the center of the suit and down the arms.

“Uh, who’s this?” Chat asked eyebrows raised as the new hero hit Dark Owl with his escrima sticks flipping out of the way and taking a picture of the villain.

“My older brother, Nightwing, the first protege of Batman,” Robin said, sighing. Superboy was laughing along with Nightwing who had tied up Dark Owl holding him to the ground.

“Oh, you must be Ladybug, Robin here talks a lot about you,” Nightwing said teasing Robin. “And you’re Chat Noir, I figured that a cat like hero would have wanted to get away from the leather stigma but you get what you get,” Nightwing said and Chat looked over at Superoby confused.

Ladybug was going through the utility belt but nothing that she broke had an akuma.

“His thing that you’re looking for, it must be in his lair,” Nightwing said foot still on the back of Dark Owl.

“How would you know?” Chat asked still trying to cover his body mostly.

“If he’s anything like Batman then he has…” the kids were gone by the time Nightwing looked up. “Ah, being young and free, I remember it well,” Nightwing looked after the kids smiling.

When the four arrived at the lair, Ladybug threw her yoyo at the computer and broke it and got the butterfly safely.

It was a closer call on Chat and Ladybug’s identity than anyone would have liked but it was what it was and both heroes wondered if the other peeked.

...............................

Dick had gone home and most of the family was now laughing about Dark Owl who thought that he was the Dark Knight, well it was everyone except for Bruce and Damian to be exact.

In Paris, The Owl was now doing good safe deeds which gave the four heroes a little time off which for Robin meant training, for Ladybug meant more sleep, for Superboy meant more flying around living in the sky, and for Chat meant thinking over what he had done and what he was going to do.

Chat wanted to ask out Jon but when he looked in the window, Jon wasn’t in his room and he wasn’t in any of the other rooms either.

Where could he have been? Robin jumped down next to him.

“You’re acting kind of creepy, wait not kind of. You’re acting creepy,” Robin said looking Chat up and down.

“I… I was looking for him cause I’m finally going to ask him out,” Chat said and Robin blinked in surprise.

“Then do it, really do it this time,” Robin said jumping away and Chat looked at Robin. Why was he always so insistent on him asking out Jon for real? Why was Jon never there when Robin was there except for that one time with Prime Queen but that could have been Superboy faking it? Could Jon be Robin?

JPS: @loveswifi @ash-amg @wannajointhecrabcult @mochegato @toodaloo-kangaroo

#jon protection squad #jon kent #jon and damian #jon and marinette #jon x adrien #marinette x damian #miraculous class #miraculous rewrite #miraculous ladybug

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calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

Love in a Coffee Shop

Summary: Finn starts dating again.

A/N: Y’all ever get curious what Finn gets up to during all of this? Or are we all so far up Ashton’s ass that we kinda forget Finn exists? Be honest! Well, I love Finn, so we’re gonna check up on him if that’s cool.

Word Count: 2.4k

And away, and away we go!

“You need to go out on a date,” Vanessa said with an eye roll.

If I had a dollar… “What do you think I do?” I asked.

“Work, take care of the kids, brood, visit you mom, brood some more.” She ticked each thing off on her fingers with a playful smile,

“I do not brood,” I defended while Ashton snickered into his hand. “And for the record, I have gone on dates. They just end horribly.”

“Aw,” Vanessa pouted. “Single, hot dad thing doesn’t work?”

“Oh, it works…” I shuddered. “Too well, that’s the problem.”

“Oh, boohoo, I’m Finn, and have lots of sex. Poor thing…”

I threw one of my fries at her while Ashton coughed to cover up a louder laugh. “Again, that’s not the problem, Ness.”

“Well, what is the problem then, Mr. Therapist?” she asked me in exasperation.

“Well first it was them running for the hills when I mentioned that my ex was pregnant with my second kid. That, uh.. Didn’t really sit well with women funnily enough.”

“That makes sense. But what’s the problem now?”

“The problem now is that they start planning these futures where we have kids too and…” I shuddered again. “I love my kids. I do. But one of each is enough for me. I don’t need exactly a bajillion like you do.”

Vanessa scoffed at me in offense, crossing her arms over her chest. “Wow… how did I ever let you go?” she sighed dreamily at me with a sarcastic smirk on her lips.

Ashton’s high-pitched giggle escaped despite his best efforts which set off both the couple in the booth behind us, and Mason and Bailey. “Stop!” Ashton wheezed. “Can’t breath! Couple behind us can hear!”

I was pretty sure the couple behind us was laughing far more about the grown ass man with the boyish giggle mixing with the gleeful laughter of small children than mine and Vanessa’s actual discussion. Especially when Ashton’s plea for us to drop the conversation resulted in the couple laughing even harder.

“Well,” Vanessa pressed on. “Mason starts preschool on Monday. Maybe you’ll find a cute single mom.”

“I don’t want more kids, Ness…”

“She probably won’t either! It’ll be great!”

“Yeah, minus the combined kids we have together from our exes? Pfft, perfect! What am I thinking?”

“Well what are you gonna do? Find a woman that doesn’t want kids? Women don’t admit that. You really think they’re gonna admit that to a dude with kids? Fuck no! Women get the stigma that if they don’t want kids it automatically means they hate them.”

“Okay, well I don’t think that.”

“Yeah, but they don’t know that.”

I groaned. “Ugh, I’m just gonna get a vasectomy and call it a day. Oh, you want kids? That’s cool, I can’t. Whoops…”

“That’s not a bad idea. Considering how easy it is for men to control their own reproductive rights…”

“Yeah, yeah, this country’s fuckin’ backwards. But move with my kids to Australia and… actually…”

Vanessa snorted. “I am not moving to Australia. No offense, love,” she said, patting Ashton’s hand.

“None taken.”

~~~

“Alright, Mase, I’ll pick you up in a few hours and take you to Nana’s,” I told Mason before straightening back up to my feet. I checked my watch. Perfect. Bailey was already with my mom, Mason had been dropped off at school, and I still had a half hour to make it in to work.

“Hi, I’m Mia,” a soft voice introduced and I lifted my gaze to find a woman in a knee-length patterned dress standing in front of me with her hand extended. Soft brown hair was piled on top of her head in a perfectly messy bun, escaped strands framing a set of equally soft brown eyes hidden behind black framed glasses.

“Finn,” I replied, shaking her hand.

“Finn… I don’t recall seeing you last week.” Her pink lips frowned in concern, and rightfully so. A strange man in a room full of preschoolers was mad creepy.

“Oh, yeah, my ex brought him last week. We have split custody of uh…” I looked around trying to spot Mason in a small sea of three and four year olds. “Well, he’s here somewhere… quiet one, bout this high.” I held my hand out measuring Mason’s height against my leg.

“Mmm” she hummed in response, her frown turning into a soft smile. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Finn.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mia.” I returned her smile. Please be the teacher, and not a mom. Please be the teacher, and not a mom.

“Well, I’ll see you later for pick up then,” she nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” I answered, watching her move towards a chair in front of where all the rugrats sat cluttered on a rug decorated with the alphabet and numbers. Yes!

~~~

“So…?” Vanessa nudged my arm from across the table.

“So, what?” I asked, feigning innocence.

She rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Finn…”

“I had the kids, Ness. Didn’t exactly go on any dates.”

“Yeah, but did you see anyone you might be interested in when you dropped Mase off at school?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Oh, my god, who?!” Vanessa pestered, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Was it Gwen’s mom, Lydia? I think she just has the one, so that wouldn’t be too bad. And she’s so cute.”

“You act like I’m picking out a puppy… and no. Not Lydia. Mia.”

“The teacher?!” Vanessa oooed, lifting her hair up off her neck and fanning herself. “The scandal!”

“Yeah… so I’m not really sure. She’s cute. She’s great with kids. But she’s his teacher for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah, but what if she’s one of those teachers who’s a teacher because she doesn’t want her own kids?”

“What if she’s the teacher who’s a teacher because she wants kids?” I countered.

“For a therapist, you're pretty pessimistic there, Finn,” she tsked.

I rolled my eyes. “Alright. Say you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

I rolled my eyes again. “Say you’re right,” I repeated. “She’s one of those ‘I get my fulfillment by teaching other people’s children rather than having them myself’ types. Still doesn’t change the fact that she’s Mase’s teacher. That’s not like… scandalous?” I asked, stealing her word for it and waggling my fingers ominously.

She shrugged. “Maybe. But isn’t that your guys’ business to decide that for yourselves?”

I let out my next breath in a huff, running my hands through my hair. “Maybe. But I dunno if this is a risk I can take, Ness. If I ask her out and she says no, then there’s the awkwardness of having to see her twice a day. If I ask her out and things end badly, it’s the same as if she rejects me outright, but worse because we already tried something.”

“Has it been awkward between us since we broke up?”

“What? No…”

“So there ya go. It’ll only be awkward if you make it awkward. And if things potentially being awkward is what stops you from trying in the first place… well, that’s the weakest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’ll think about it, alright?”

“Good enough for me!” she chirped.

~~~

I groaned as my phone rang, telling me it was Vanessa. Why was she calling me on a Sunday morning? I checked the time and groaned again. And why so early? “Yeah?” I answered with a yawn.

“Coffee shop on the corner of Fifth. Now!”

“What?”

“Mia! She’s here at the coffee shop.” By her hushed tone, I could imagine she was whispering into her phone so Mia must have been close.

“Jesus Christ, woman…”

“Are you coming or not?”

“I don’t even like coffee.”

“Then order a fuckin’ bagel for all I care. Just get down here!”

“Alright, alright…” I grumbled, pushing myself out of bed.

Ten minutes later I pushed my way into the little shop, spotting Ashton, Vanessa, and the kids chatting quietly with Mia at a table. Vanessa caught my eye, and said something that was probably “Oh, it’s Finn!” based on the way her mouth moved before waving me over.

“Hey guys,” I said once I got closer to them.

“Oh, hi!” Mia greeted with a smile. “Your little one with their mom?” she asked offhandedly, bringing attention to the fact that I hadn’t brought the kids with me.

I tilted my head to the side in confusion. Did she not know Mason was mine? “Uh, yeah. He is,” I said, reaching out to ruffle Mason’s hair whose primary focus was on his croissant and chocolate milk.

He swatted at my hand angrily before he lifted his eyes up. “Daddy!” he beamed.

Mia’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Mason’s yours! I thought…” Her gaze fluttered over to Ashton. “Oh, my, that’s embarrassing…”

I laughed, brushing it off. “Honest mistake. But yeah, he’s mine.”

Her gaze flickered over to Bailey. “Both of them?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Oh, now I’m really embarrassed. I can’t believe I didn’t pay attention to the fact that I’ve seen Mason all week, but not Ashton and Vanessa here. Oh, wow…” Her glasses slid down her nose as she ducked her head down, her cheeks bright pink.

“Again, honest mistake,” I told her. “Don’t even worry about it.”

She shook her head, still wrapped up in the small mishap. “I’m, uh… gonna go get my coffee now. It was good running into you guys. Finn,” she nodded politely and excused herself to go wait in line, her arms brushing against mine as she squeezed past me.

“Well…” Vanessa prompted.

“Well, what?”

“She didn’t say my name when she said goodbye.”

“Or mine,” Ashton added.

“Just yours. Funny.”

They were right. Why had Mia just said my name? And had she brushed into my arm as she moved past me or had I made that up?

“Finn? Finn?”

“Hmm?”

“Go order your bagel.”

“Yeah, bagel,” I nodded, hurrying to go stand in line behind Mia. It took her stepping forward to place her order for me to figure out what I was doing. “And a cinnamon raisin bagel, please,” I added, stepping forward and pulling out my wallet.

“Oh, no…” Mia stammered, shaking her head at the now thoroughly confused barista. “Just the coffee, thanks,” she reiterated, flashing her card.

“Nope. Bagel too,” I spoke again, blocking the card reader from her while I handed the poor barista some cash. “Sorry for the confusion.”

Mia’s eyes narrowed at me as the cash register clanged open and I got my change, dumping it into the tip jar. “Thank you, but that was completely unnecessary,” she told me as we stepped off to the side.

“You’re right. Probably should’ve asked first. Can I buy you a coffee sometime?”

Heat rose in her still slightly tinged cheeks. “No.”

I nodded, feeling the muscles in my jaw twitch. “Alright. No worries.”

“Because you already bought me one, so the next coffee should be on me.”

“Oh? Well, uh, I don’t actually drink coffee…”

Her lips pursed together in thought as a different barista put our items on the pick up counter. She dug around her purse, pulling out a pen and scribbling something down on the bag my bagel was in “Well dinner, then,” she amended, handing me the bag with a phone number written on it in a loopy scrawl. “Or do you only eat bagels?”

~~~

“I’m really glad you agreed to this,” I said, admiring the way the candle flickering on the table between us cast her in a soft glow. “I, uh… wasn’t sure if I was crossing a line, or something.”

“Oh, this isn’t a date. This is just me returning the favor for that coffee the other day.” Her words didn’t match up to the teasing tone and playful smile.

“Mmm, right. Maybe I’ll just have to buy you more coffees then.”

“Or pluck up the courage to ask me on a real date. Whichever is easier.”

“Would you say yes if I asked.”

“Ask me and find out.”

“Two Fridays from now. Say seven?”

“Seven,” she laughed. “Two Fridays from now? Little presumptuous of you, no?”

“Or optimistic. Whichever is easier.”

She laughed more, then sighed. “That sounds lovely…”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming…”

“However,” she said with a knowing look, and I was already in love with the way she played with words. “There’s something I should probably tell you first.”

“Oh?” I asked, trying not to let my mind take me down the rabbit hole of wildly outrageous deal breakers.

“I can’t have kids…”

“Oh?” I said again, stupidly.

She nodded slowly. “Yeah… just so you’re aware. I try to get that part done and out of the way as soon as possible. Makes it a little easier to deal with the rejection that usually follows.”

“That’s um…” I faltered and I reached for her hand. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, it doesn’t bother me. I didn’t want kids even before I learned I couldn’t have them. I mean, I love children. I love my job. But having children of my own wasn’t ever something I felt I needed.”

“That’s…”

“Fucked up?” she chuckled nervously.

“Great,” I corrected.

“Really?!”

“Oh, yeah,” I nodded, with a grin. “But, I have two. That’s not a concern for you?”

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m fine with that. It’s… complicated, I guess? I don’t mind dating parents and playing a role in their children’s lives. I just biologically don’t want to be a parent.”

“That’s not complicated at all, actually. That’s…”

“Great?” she offered.

“More than great.”

~~~

“C’mon… pick up the phone, Ness,” I muttered to myself as I bounced on the balls of my feet.

“Finn?” she asked as she answered.

“SHE CAN’T HAVE KIDS!” I clapped a hand to my mouth after the outburst. I probably could have phrased that better, but I couldn’t help myself. I was fuckin’ smitten. Mia was beautiful, and smart. She was good with kids. She didn’t care that I had kids. And she couldn’t and didn’t want kids of her own! Fuck, I felt like I had hit the jackpot and I needed someone to be just as excited with me.

“And you just blurted it out to me like that?” I could imagine her eyebrows raised in question. “Finn… do better…”

“Sorry! Yep. Probably could have phrased that better. Or not told you at all… but fuck, Ness! I’m so happy! We’re going on another date in a few weeks. And just… fuck, I haven’t been this excited in a long time.”

“That’s great, Finn. I’m really happy for you.”

“Oh! You have to swear to me you won’t mention to her that I told you. She didn’t make it seem like it was a secret, but… ya know?”

“My lips are sealed. And hey, Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“I fuckin’ told ya so.”

Tag List

@frontmanash @goeatsomelife @flameraine @creator-appreciator @cxddlyash @1-irwin-94 @sparkling-calm @tea4sykes @youngblood199456 @5-seconds-of-obsession @gosh-im-short @aquarius-hood1996 @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @philthepegacorn @boomerash @teenwolfss24 @karajaynetoday @myfavfanficsever @stormrider505 @cashtonisruiningmylife

#love in a coffee shop #ashton&vanessa #ash&mase #mase&bai #finn&mia #galcal irwin

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

The Right Choice - Part 2

Summary: You had hoped going to Korea to look after your estranged grandmother would allow you to connect in some way to your mother’s culture. However, being half-Korean and a single mother meant you would face the stigma of a narrow-minded society instead. Had you really made the right choice to come here?

Pairing: Mark Tuan x reader

Genre: single mother au / strangers to lovers au / self-growth / angst / romance

Warnings: open prejudice and stigma over solo parenting

A/N; Although the warnings seem rather negative, this story is one I hope a lot of you will enjoy! I’ve wanted to write this for over eight months now, and I’m glad I finally sat down to do so. It isn’t as dark as it sounds, and nor is it intentionally a dig at Korean culture as a whole.

The Right Choice will be posted daily at 10am NZST.

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

You hadn’t slept a wink overnight.

As soon as you had stepped inside the gate, your grandmother had started listing off the reasons why she had requested your help. You could see from the fragile gait she maintained that her legs had worsened since your mother had last visited her, and her breathing was a bit haggard too. All the same, the older woman had an air about her that didn’t want you to pity or fuss over her.

You were simply here to assist her daily needs, that was very clear.

“Can you cook?”

“Yes.”

“Korean meals?”

“My mother taught me as much as she knew.”

“That doesn’t leave me with much hope. Are you a good learner?”

“Yes, Grandmother I am.”

She turned then, eyes small and dark. “You look like him.”

“Uh, I do?” you replied awkwardly, smiling lightly. “A lot of people say I look a lot more like my mother. Just with different eyes.”

“I hated his eyes.”

“Oh.”

She spun around then, ambling into the homestead again. You could tell she was house proud. The place was clean and everything had its place. You made a mental note to spend more time the following day looking at all the memories around the house but for now, you travelled behind her, rocking Emerson whenever she stopped to catch her breath. Eventually, your grandmother showed you into the room for your stay.

“I don’t have anything for the baby set up. I didn’t know you were married.”

“I’m not.” The judgement was instant and you avoided eye contact. “It’s just Emerson and I.”

“I suppose the way of life over there allows for such sin then.”

You refrained from telling her that Emerson was created with a purpose and not from a natural conception either.

“Well, I’ll let you settle in. Tomorrow I have an appointment at two-fifteen. Can you remember that?”

“Two-fifteen, of course.”

Another grunt left her and when she shut the door behind her departure, you slumped down onto the bed, your tears slipping down your cheeks silently.

And then your phone went off. Recomposing yourself, you connected to the call. “Hey, Dad!”

“That bad, huh?”

“She’s a little rough around the edges,” you admitted, rubbing Emerson’s back slowly as you sniffled back the remnants of your emotions. “I’m sure she’s just used to being on her own and doesn’t like that she’s had to reach out for my help.”

“If you begin to feel too uncomfortable, we’ll make other arrangements.”

“We can’t just do that, it’s not our place to, Dad. I’m sure with some time, it’ll be fine.”

He sighed into the receiver. “You just hold on to that hope kiddo. She will try to squash it.”

Emerson had started to fuss when you had pulled out the travel bed you had packed for her, and you had heard the clearing of a throat from outside of the door loudly soon after. You were frazzled enough about being here, and that only made you feel rushed to silence your child. As you rocked her back and forth gently, you tried your best to hold it together. Chanting over and over to yourself that things would be okay.

You were up searching for the kitchen as soon as the morning shone through the windows, a bottle in one hand. With the stress of travelling, feeding Emerson naturally wasn’t working nearly as well as you hoped it would overnight. So you aimed to ensure she had enough in her system for breakfast, smiling to yourself when you finally found the right room.

You set about heating the milk for Emerson quietly when your grandmother walked in. “You’re an early riser.”

“Most mornings, yes.”

“Because of the child?”

You smiled forcibly. “Yes, because of Emerson.”

“What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” you questioned and the elder shot you a look.

“The name.”

“Uh, I think it’s a German name.”

“You’re not German though, why use a foreign name?” she retorted and you attempted to laugh to ease the mood. It wasn’t appreciated by the woman and you ceased the gesture.

“I happened to like the name.”

“Another weird habit of you Americans, huh?”

“All the same, it is her name,” you replied, somewhat defensively. The woman stared back at you, an indescribable look within her eyes. You found your confidence and smiled again. “It is my child’s name and I’d appreciate you respect that.”

“We name our children with dreams and goals we have for them here in Korea. In hopes they live up to their names,” she mentioned before leaving the kitchen with her cup of tea in hand.

You slumped down into the chair in the bakery an hour later, letting out a heavy breath. Not even the smell of freshly baked bread could perk you up, though you did smile when Mark approached you.

“Did you even sleep?”

“I want to say that I got maybe an hour’s worth,” you replied and he sat down across from you, pouting softly. It made your mood improve being in his company. You then glanced around the bustling store. “Is it okay to vent?”

“None of the ladies are here,” he confirmed and you groaned loudly. “Y/N, you’re doing better than most. You lasted the night.”

“Barely.” You then shot him a disgruntled look. “I thought she would be happy to meet me. Especially since you mentioned I had been a topic to discuss.”

“Well, she did seem rather excited about it when she was talking with her friends. It’s rare to see Mrs Kim smile, but she did.”

“I guess I didn’t live up to her expectations.”

He reached out for your hand gently. “It’s only been a day, give it some time.”

“Speaking of time, I don’t think I have too much time for myself this morning, so I should make my purchase.”

“No way, it’s on me today, remember?”

You grinned at him and after being told to wait there, you glanced down at Emerson sleeping against your chest and sighed. At least after all that fussing, she was finally catching up on her rest. You hoped you would be able to get an early night’s rest tonight.

Mark then returned with a tray brimming of baked goods. You glanced up at him in surprise. “All of this?”

“You haven’t been to Korea, that’s what I was told. So I’m guessing you’ve never tried Korean bread before either.”

“Not authentically,” you agreed with a smile and picked up one, taking a bite of the sweet bun. You melted into your chair. “Oh my god, this is so good! Did you make this?”

“Ha-ha, no. I just work here to discount my rent. You can find me here every morning from seven to midday.”

“And then do you disappear?”

Mark chuckled. “Into the world of study, sure.”

“You’re a student?” you questioned, your cheeks growing pink. “Oh, I didn’t expect you to be so young.”

“I’m a teacher’s assistant at the local university,” he answered, smirking lightly. “I teach math.”

“The one subject that I’m weak with.”

He grinned again. “Maybe you’ll need some lessons.”

“I’m a bit old for school, I graduated many years ago.”

“You don’t look too old to me, Y/N.”

“I’m older than you think.”

“Does age matter?”

You sighed softly. “In this country, it seems a lot of things matter.”

You didn’t mean to unload your frustrations onto Mark, yet he was an easy listener. You told him how much you had doubted who you were in the past twelve hours more than you had in your entire life. You forgot he was a stranger you had only met last night, though you didn’t spill everything about your life either.

When you were done and pulling apart another pastry with your frustrations, Mark finally responded. “You’re not a bad person for being a single mother, Y/N. You’re right; there is a lot of stigma around children and parenting in this country. It’s a narrow-minded viewpoint. But she should be grateful you’re here. You could have said no because you’re a mother to such a young child. You didn’t though.”

“I guess I didn’t want to let her down.”

“She’s not exactly offering you something positive in exchange though.”

“My Mum married my Dad, who is obviously not Korean,” you announced, pointing to your eyes to prove it. “I think she is still bitter over it, and since I look like both of them, maybe I’m a sore spot for her to look at.”

“You’re still her granddaughter, and I remain convinced that she was boastful about your achievements here the other day. Old people tend to be more traditional. Give her some time to open up.”

You nodded, smiling at him lightly. And then it dawned on you just how much time you had spent here, and further, how much you had said. Before you could say anything, Mark raised his hand to dismiss your thoughts. “I told you where to find me for a reason, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to come and seek me out. I’ll listen. It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re a good person.”

“Not as good as you are. But you’re right; she’s probably convinced you’re using this trip as a vacation and off sightseeing by now.”

“I should go!”

“We’ll do the sightseeing later in the week then,” he commented with a grin and you mirrored it, nodding before dashing out the door.

At least you had someone rooting for your success here.

_________________

Part 3

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aspidities · 4 years

Note

You think clexacon will be cancelled?

I hope not! I have refundable tickets and hotel room deposits, though, so I’m not too worried, but it would be a bummer most extreme, yes.

I appreciate the need for safety but I’m honestly not very worried about COVID-19 in the US until we hit a death toll that surpasses recovery rate—right now it’s very low, and recovery is very high, that’s very telling that in the early stages of a ‘pandemic’ that if our recovery is this high, we probably don’t have much to be concerned about once the vaccine is developed. I think hysteria over it in the US will die down in a month once the news cycle picks up something else. I know that mass quarantines and events shutting down make people frightened, but remember: panic kills as many as pandemic, in cases of real crisis, and so far the intense reactions don’t seem to be cutting off the flow of infected any better than simply planning for effective triage and treatment.

The only person I truly worry about contracting any type of flu is my father—patients undergoing chemo are at a higher risk than even the elderly or infirm. I have a lot of concerns about that, but ultimately I know that a common cold could be just as deadly for him as corona, so there’s not a lot that I can personally do aside from keep him hydrated and wash my hands. I could cancel Clexacon myself and that would still not prevent him from having to go into the most dangerous infection zone—a hospital—about twice a month for MRIs and blood tests, and run the risk of encountering anyone with any pathogen that could kill him. It’s terrifying, but that’s cancer for you. You have no control over what may ultimately kill your loved ones. I think people encountering COVID-19 are experiencing this fear for the first time, but it’s a sudden panic, not a lived in experience. Me? I live like this, and I have since August, so maybe I’m just more jaded at this point, and bitter about healthy people suddenly being terrified of becoming sick people. I’ve watched my father have to slowly and painstakingly select through the options at a self service checkout while people sighed and rolled their eyes at his slowness and shifted with uncomfortable pity at the knowledge he was sick. I hated those people in that moment, and I’ll be honest—if every single one of them got corona, that would be fine with me. There is a major stigma against sickness in this country and it’s class based. The people who would cancel concerts and events would also happily barricade themselves in their palatial homes rather than put effort into helping others. So it puts a bitter taint in my mouth to see panic over becoming sick, when pariahs already walk among us, ignored and politely pitied by the healthy.

But basically, to answer a very innocent question with a less bitter rant about American health policies: I will be sad! But there’s always next year!

#ask me #covid19 #clexacon

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gothiccbts-blog · 5 years

Text

My Darling, Chapter 1

Genre: Murder Mystery, Horror, Angst (in this chapter)

Pairing: BTS x Reader

Summary: Working as a detective constable for 5 years definitely had you seeing some horrific scenes in your career. However, nothing would prepare you for the string of murders around the city which all had one intention; getting your attention.

Words: 4.4k

Author’s note: Hello! This is the first official chapter of my first fanfic, hope you all enjoy it! Also would recommend if you haven’t read the teaser I highly suggest you do since it’s where this chapter leads off from. Let me know what you think! Thank you - Lisa

Teaser ◀ ▶Next Chapter

Thursday 7:46am

The ticking noise of the clock on the cold, white-bricked wall was slowly getting louder in your head with every second, it’s the only thing that’s keeping you conscious in this cold and harrowing morgue. Your body is pressed against one of the cold metal tables as you rest your eyes, pulling yourself into darkness. This is the first time you’ve shut your eyes for more than 2 seconds all night after the body was discovered at Stigma Nightclub, the image of the blood-soaked body was still burning into each fiber of your mind.

The sound of a scalpel being slammed against a metal tray brings you back into the light, the horrific vision of the victim’s body now fading away as your eyes are met with the same body now on a metal slab, all sewed and cleaned up.

“I don’t think you need me to tell you that this was a pretty violent murder.” Stated the man standing directly above the body, Kim Seokjin, the head Forensic Pathologist on this case and pretty much every case that’s pretty serious. Seokjin is good at what he does, hell, he’s amazing at what he does. The bad thing is that even he knows he’s one of the best in the business, meaning you can imagine the size of this guy’s ego.

“It’s pretty difficult to say what killed him first… the head trauma from his skull getting bashed against the wall or the fact he pretty much stabbed every internal organ in this area…” he says as he gestures to the lower abdominal area before leaning against the metal table and looking over the body, his eyes dragging along the flesh.

“From the looks of things, he was knocked out cold when his head was thrown against the wall but was still alive when he was being stabbed and of course died from blood loss.” He states before a scoff came from the other side of the room.

“Even I could’ve told you that! And here I was under the impression you were the best in the business, could you please tell us something we don’t know, Seokjin?” Came Officer Min’s obviously tired and annoyed voice as he leans against the cold wall of the morgue, arms crossed and looking very unimpressed at Seokjin.

An annoyed sigh escapes Seokjin’s lips, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows; “It’s Dr. Kim to you, Min. And until we analyse the fluids and other areas of the body, we will not be able to determine a cause of death. I suggest you take your head out of your ass and actually do something other than gawk at me doing my work, I know I’m handsome but even I need to draw the line, especially in a work environment.” His offended look was now replaced with a smirk, knowing how to push Officer Min’s buttons.

Officer Min, also known as Yoongi, and I have come to Seokjin’s Pathologist team for lots of different cases, be it a murder, drink driving, drug overdose, you name it. You would think after years and years of being in the same cold and eerie room together they would come to like or even just respect each other. Apparently, Seokjin’s cockiness and overall personality are just too much for Yoongi, not that he is any better, he always wishes to push his buttons just to piss him off, it’s a constant cycle every time we’re here.

You yourself would never consider yourself a friend of Seokjin’s, would you ever go to a bar with him? Go out for lunch? No never, you just respect his work and consider him an acquaintance, that’s all. Even if you were to ask him out for lunch, he has this reputation of keeping himself to himself, I don’t think anyone in his team even knows anything personal about him other than his name and age. No one knows his family if he’s got a boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife, kids. He’s an unbreakable wall that no one has seemed to crack.

A low growl comes from Yoongi’s throat as he pushes himself off of the wall, turning his head towards you,

“Come on Miss Y/l/n, I know where we can go, let Seokj- oh I’m sorry Dr Kim, my apologies your majesty,” he pauses to bow mockingly, earning a scoff from the other man, “We should go back to the nightclub, I sent some of my team and forensics there early this morning to see what they can find, might as well join them and see if we can help.”

You nod, pulling your tired body off of the table, turning your head to Seokjin before leaving, “Give us a call if you find anything important, alright?”

8:12am

The smell of booze, sweat and regret is exactly the first thing that hits you when first stepping foot into Stigma Nightclub. Instead of sweaty and drunk bodies grinding against each other to some terrible EDM music, the place was filled with people in white plastic suits and police uniforms. You remember a time where you used to be in here, back when you were a university student and had so much of life ahead of you. This was actually when you were first introduced to him. Kim Taehyung. The man that broke your heart.

You remember it so clearly; you were out dancing and having fun with friends when he came up to you at the bar. He was just so charming, handsome and made you smile, filled you up with compliments and even asked you out, being the innocent student who wanted to experience things said yes. Around 3 or 4 dates later he asked you to be his girlfriend, you were on cloud nine, little did you know he was going to break your heart into a million pieces.

“We should go and talk to some of the staff here last night, follow me.”

Yoongi’s voice brought you out of your little daze, the image of Taehyungsmiling in front of you is replaced with emptiness, the memory fading. Finally bringing function to your legs, you follow his lead, before you know it you’re heading towards a girl around the age of 24-26 with the staff’s uniform on, sitting at one of the many tables. She’s looking down at her hands, fidgeting. She’s obviously very distressed. I don’t blame her, she’s surrounded by officer’s that are all trying to get every little detail out of her.

“-I just c-can’t believe he’s r-really gone…” you heard her whimper as you approach the table, taking out your badge from your coat and showing the officer’s surrounding her, signaling them to leave. You slowly kneel down in front of her, trying to make her feel a bit more at ease.

“Hi there, I’m detective constable y/n y/l/n, this is Head Officer Min. We’d like to ask you about what happened here las-“ you stated before she suddenly interrupted.

“My friend got murdered! T-that’s what! I-I’ve told the other o-officers everything I know, w-which is nothing! Just l-leave me alone!” she exclaimed, more red hot tears streaming down her already stained face.

Sighing you get back up on your feet and look over at Officer Min, who is about to say something else to her,

“Give her some space… is the owner anywhere to be seen?” You asked, knowing well who it is you’re asking to see.

You have heard of the infamous owner of this nightclub, Jung Hoseok. In fact, everyone has heard of him. One of the richest men in the country. He owns around 5 nightclubs all over the country, all of them being packed every single night, sending him easy millions in the bank every week. Not only that but he has been connected to a lot of drugs and weapon smuggling in and out of this country, but no charges were made against his name due to the lack of evidence. This man has so many connections that he could buy himself out of jail, that’s why he’s so well known. He’s created a whole empire for himself making him untouchable. At least he likes to think he is.

A lot of my team have tried their best at arresting him, trying to catch him red-handed when talking to these criminals, organising the drug and weapons smuggling but he knows what he’s doing. He’s careful and never leaves any loose ends for us to find. He’s good at what he does, the bastard.

“Why, you going to try and get some information out of him? I wish you all the luck in the world, Miss Y/l/n.” He says before nodding towards the set of stairs, just over by the glamorous VIP section of the club with chandeliers and expensive furniture, “His office should be up those stairs somewhere, you go and talk to him and I’ll go and talk to security, see what we can find on the CCTV footage from last night.”

You nod, you can’t help but let your gaze linger on the bar as you turn to make your way towards the stairs, the sound of his laughter echoing through your brain, the sound of his compliments, his jokes, him.

“You’re a university student? Wow, you must be pretty smart then!” He smiles, taking a sip of his drink of beer, his big and sparkling eyes never leaving yours, “Beautiful and smart, surely that’s illegal!”

You laugh, probably a little too loud now that the vodka from your 4th vodka and coke finally seems to have kicked in.

“Oh no no, you flatter me too much! You’re really trying to charm me, aren’t you?” you lean in a little closer, feeling a little bolder now as you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That depends, is it working?” He winks back at you, sending blood rushing to your cheeks, sure you’ve met guys at bars who have tried to flirt with you, but this seems so different, he’s different.

“Get me another drink and you’ll find out…”

Before you know it you’re standing in front of a fogged glass door, the metallic plaque with the name ‘Jung Hoseok CEO’ engraved into it. A loud beaming voice coming from within the room, sounding to be annoyed with whoever else is in there. Without thinking twice I knock against the glass, the room inside falling silent until you hear the words “come in” from a low voice.

When you enter the office, there are already a few police officers in there, no doubt giving Mr. Jung a grilling already, trying to suck every piece of information out of him. However, the police officers are not the first thing you notice, despite being right next to me as you enter the room. It’s the dark eyes of Jung Hoseok. Boring into you from the other side of his desk. His hair is a mess, his shirt unbuttoned and tie loose, his eyes heavy and luring you in before you finally compose yourself.

“I am detective constable Y/n Y/ln, do you mind if I have a few minutes with you, Mr. Jung?” you state, trying to be as calm and collected as possible despite the horrible aura that’s coming from the man in front of you.

“…Alright, sweetheart, as long as it’s just you and me. Don’t want these hounds lurking in on our private conversation, now do we?” His sudden cold and rude exterior changing as he gives you a wide smile, a cold shiver going down your spine as you nod, watching as the two officers make their way out of the room, the sound of the door closing is a lot louder than it should have been, maybe that was just your nerves heightening your senses.

“Sit down, sweetheart, I don’t bite you know…” The smirk never leaving his face as he gestures to the leather chair in front of his desk. You nod, making your way to the chair, feeling a little self-conscious with his eyes following your every movement as you lower your body down.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here, Mr. Jung… Let’s not beat around the bush and get right into things,” you decided to stay true to your professionalism, despite the sheer vulnerability you feel at the moment right in front of him, feeling like prey standing right in front of the predator. Your statement seems to amuse him so as he changes his body language, the smirk continuing to stretch on his face as he slumps more against the back of his chair, easing me a little, “where were you around 3am this morning?”

He stays silent for a moment, as though picking out his words carefully. That or he was just utterly fascinated by your face as his eyes have not left it since you’ve entered the room.

“I was at the other side of town, in one of my other night clubs… My more popular ones…’Cypher’ you may have heard of it, you seem like the type of lady that likes to go out drinking now and then…” he slowly lets out a piece at a time, leaning in towards his desk so that his elbows are now resting against the expensive wood. You know what he’s trying to do, he’s toying with you, trying to distract you and fall for his charms. He’s a manipulator, someone with his power becomes really good at that sort of thing, too bad this isn’t the first time you’ve dealt with this.

“What were you doing at ‘Cypher’ at that time, Mr. Jung?” You were met with a scoff, not an irritated one but one more amused, you knew he was enjoying this more than he should be.

He leans in more, his smirk now turning into a grin, stretching across his face. The creepiest thing about it is that it doesn’t seem to meet his eyes.

“Do you really want to know, sweetheart? What would you do if I said I was in my own private booth with a pretty girl from the bar, doing things to her under the table that had her squealing in pleasure?” he says slowly, his eyes burning into yours to see your reaction.

You’ll admit, that did send heat to your cheeks since you weren’t prepared for it and you’re sure he noticed too by the small chuckle that escaped his lips. This is what he wants to do to you, to distract you from what you’re trying to do, from what you’re trying to find out.

“What do you know about the victim, Mr. Jung? I believe he worked here as a part-time bartender, is that correct?” you ignore his tries at distracting you, at clouding your brain with images and thoughts in order to stop you from getting any information out of him. Not today, Hoseok.

His smirk falters a little, bringing his elbows off of the table and leaning back against the chair again. His eyes finally breaking away from yours as though he realises I’m not going to give in to his little comments.

“I know OF him… He was a student or something, right? Don’t know much about the kid… He didn’t get involved in anyone’s business or try to make conversation, just made your drink and that was it. He did his job. Kept himself to himself… why someone would want to mutilate him like that is beyond me, maybe he got on the wrong side of someone that night…” he says while looking down at his desk as his finger slowly taps against it as though he’s… anxious?

His last comment made you pause, his choice of words: ‘maybe he got on the wrong side of someone that night’ as well as this being the first time he broke eye contact with you, this is no coincidence, he knows more.

“What do you mean by that, M-“ before you can pry any more, the door of his office swings open, revealing Officer Min who is looking between the both of us, breathing heavily as though he ran up the stairs.

“Miss Y/l/n, you might want to see this…”

With furrowed eyebrows, you push yourself up off the leather chair, about to leave but turns to Hoseok before you do,

“I would like to continue this conversation later, Mr. Jung,” you state while staring at him in the eyes, his eyes are no longer flirty and sparking, they’re just cold. Burning. Scared. You’re going to get whatever he’s hiding out of him if it’s the last thing you do.

You follow Officer Min down the stairs of the nightclub, somehow, you can still feel Mr. Jung’s eyes burning into your skull like corrosive acid is burning through to your brain. You should be scared of him, that’s how he has everyone in this city wrapped around his finger, that’s why he’s walking free instead of rotting in jail. Subconsciously you turn my head to the top of the staircase as your legs reach the bottom, only to see Mr. Jung’s slender figure standing there, watching, lurking, his full playful and sexy exterior completely gone. His eyes stalking your every movement as you walk through to the security room with Officer Min, like a hawk watching a rabbit through the fields. He knows something about this case and he doesn’t like the fact that you’re willing to find out every little detail.

8:49am

Entering the security room of the club you are hit with the lights of many televisions all displaying a different part of the nightclub, illuminating the room. You glance around them all, seeing if there is any camera which would show the alleyway, which would reveal the actual murder being committed. Unfortunately, it seems no camera shows this. Does this mean the killer knew about the placement of the cameras or was it just sheer luck?

“Play camera 23 at 3:17am this morning.”

With a few clicks of the keyboard, one of the screens on the left starts to play, the camera being displayed inside the club, showing the bar and the many drunk people sitting there, flirting, touching, giggling, just enjoying themselves. The nightclub closes at around 4am, this you know because of your past experiences in this place, that’s mostly why it was so loved; it didn’t close ‘early’. The staff behind the bar are also shown doing their job, taking orders and mixing drinks, your eyes instantly catching onto the victim who’s currently taking a beer out of the mini-fridge and opening it.

You keep your eyes trained on him, that is until your eyes follow him handing the beer to someone at the bar, the ring shining on the man’s finger instantly making your chest tighten. Your breathing heavy and painful. That’s your ring. You bought that for him. Kim Taehyung.

“Happy anniversary, babe!” You giggled, throwing your arms over his shoulders from behind, placing little kisses on the side of his cheek, earning you a laugh in return, “I got you a little gift…” you move on of your hands in front of him, revealing a small white box with a little red plastic bow on top of it.

“Awww! You shouldn’t have! Mostly because I didn’t get you anything…” he laughs as you slap his shoulder, “I’m kidding I’m kidding; how could I forget to get the love of my life a 2-year anniversary present? I’m dumb but I’m not that dumb!” he pulls away from you, quickly running over to his dresser to grab what he got for you, which is in a thin, black rectangle box, quickly shoving it into your hand.

“Open yours first!” he said, he looked like what could only be described as a big excited puppy as he watched you take off the delicate lace ribbon, biting his lip in anticipation as you open it. Anxiety building up in his chest as you process what you’re looking at inside the box.

“Well? Do you like it? I-I knew you liked the idea of little locket necklaces! I just d-didn’t know if it was the right one… do you hate it? God, you do, don’t you? It’s okay I can get you ano-“ he’s quickly interrupted from his panic when you lean in to give him a kiss, pulling away with a loving smile on your face.

“I love it, Tae this is just… wow…It’s beautiful!” you slowly let out before you carefully open up the locket, revealing a picture of the both of you on your first date, all shy and nervous at the park together, the picture being one of your personal favourites.

“Tae… this is perfect, really thank you” you quickly lean back in to hug him, your eyes tearing up with how thoughtful it was before pulling away with a laugh, “great, now my present looks terrible!”

He laughs, shaking his head, “you could give me anything and I would love it, I love you so much…” he smiles lovingly at you before looking down at the small box you gave him and opening it finally, his lips parting when he sees what’s inside.

The ring inside was silver, having an engraving of a chain-like pattern at the sides, the inside having both yours and his initials.

“I know you said you really wanted another ring plus I know you like these designs, plus this one is personal now since it has our initials on it together…” you say softly, the anxiety of his reaction feels like it’s going to kill you.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being pushed back onto his bed behind you, making you yelp out in surprise as he covers your face in kisses.

“it’s perfect! What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?” He pulls away with a smile, looking down at your lips, “I’ll keep this on till the day I die…” he says before leaning in, kissing you like it’s the last time he ever will.

That ring. The same one you were staring at right now on the man’s finger through CCTV footage. The same hands you held tight every day, the same hands that touched you, caressed you. The same arms that used to hug you every day and night. The same neck you used to bury your face in. The same face you used to wake up to every morning and think everything was going to be alright. Him.

“Miss Y/l/n, are you alright?” came Officer Min’s voice from beside you, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder in comfort, “you’re looking quite pale…”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine…” you lied, your brain feels like it’s spinning at 100 miles per hour trying to process what you’re looking at, who you’re looking at.

You watch him carefully as he sips his beer, his head pressed against the palm of his other hand, looking rather bored or fed up as he sits alone at the bar. You wonder; why is he even there, alone… Sure you haven’t seen him in a few years after he broke your heart but the last place you’d expect to find him was back here, back where it all started. Why wasn’t he running away with her.

“Watch, the bartender goes into the back room, another worker confirmed he was going back there to stock up on the drinks in the mini fridge at the bar but… he doesn’t come back.” Officer Min stated, his eyes glancing over at you in both concern and to see what you thought of this.

This was not the time to think about the past, I have to do my job.

“Have you checked the storage? Are the forensics team in there? See if there’s any signs of struggle or maybe an extra set of footprints…” you finally say, noting how Officer Min seems to glance at the other security, they all have an unreadable look on their face. It’s not a good one.

“I was about to send the team in but… I think it’s best you see it for yourself, y/n.” His voice is laced with something that you can’t quite point out, concern? Sadness? Fear? All you know is it must be serious, especially since he’s now calling you by your first name, something he never does.

Before you head down, curious and scared at what you might find down there, you glance back at the screen to take one last look at him but you are met with an empty chair, he’s gone.

You are led down to the storage room at the back of the bar, everything looking completely normal as you enter so far; barrels of liquor, wooden pallets filled with food and snacks, extra chairs and tables, cleaning equipment. Nothing seems to be out of place so far, that is until you meet Officer Min’s eyes, gesturing for you to look in the freezer part of the storage room, his eyes glancing away after he does so. This was strange. It’s so out with his character to look so vulnerable at this moment in time that you really don’t want to even think about what waits for you beyond this freezer door.

You put your hand on the large, painfully cold metal handle and turn it, using all of your strength to pull it open, the burning of your muscles now met with the sharp coldness of the freezer. Putting one foot in, eyes traveling around the dark freezer, not even knowing what it is your looking for exactly. The freezer itself is pretty dark, only a few dim lights in there to illuminate all of the pieces of meat and drinks kept in here, just making this whole situation even eerier than before.

As you take another few steps into the freezer, the sound of something crinkle under your right shoe, your movements instantly stopping, brain running wild at what it would be, before you can come up with anything your eyes are plummeting down, meeting what appears to be a piece of paper.

The first instinct was relief as it was a probably receipt or something that one of the staff accidentally dropped when counting the stock, but that moment of relief was instantly met with sheer terror as your eyes finally adjusted to the dim lighting of the freezer, making what was laying on the ground visible to you now.

It was a letter. Not only that but it was addressed to someone. Your heart thumping in your ribcage as you slowly bend your knees, swallowing what felt like razorblades as you shakily picked it up.

You were right, it was addressed to someone.

You.

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snowhwing · 5 years

Text

Hide & Seek

[SF9 Hwiyoung X Reader]

Genre: angst; fluff Warning: grammar inaccuracies Words: 3230

“I can see you It’s hard to act like I don’t know I can see everything...”

Where Hwiyoung is part of a rising idol boy group and the two of you share a closeness that’s blossoming into romance. But there is a rumor circulating about the two of you that could ruin both of your lives…

“누나! (Nuna!)”

The idea is to avoid Kim Hwiyoung today and all the days of your life. The idea is for you to act as if he’s a stranger. Rumors about how close you two got are spreading like wildfire inside the company and tidbits of those rumors have already reached his and his group’s fans. It’s causing a stir; a boiling chaos that could ruin both you and the guy himself. Not to mention, such rumors can affect the entire boy group that he’s part of.

But said guy is making it hard for you. Whenever he’s on break or not in his studio writing songs, he would follow you around and tail you like no other. Just like today.

You turn around to face him. “Hwiyoung-ssi, what is it?”

His brows knit together for a split second but it did not last long. He is once again smiling at you. That oh-so-beautiful smile that, without you noticing, became your favorite. “Why are you so serious, nuna? Oh, never mind. I came to tell you that Chani and I are going to grab fried chicken for lunch. Do you want to come with us?”

Oh, lunch. You completely forgot about that. Before running into Hwiyoung, you just came from the CEO’s office. That is where you found out about the rumors circulating between you and Hwiyoung. The CEO did not reprimand you. You would not call it like that. Warning - that is the right term for it. You got a warning from the CEO himself. After a prelude of ‘You are an amazing employee. I would not want to lose a valuable person like you.’, the CEO explained that if things get out of control, Hwiyoung’s hard-earned career and popularity - including the group he’s part of - will go down the drain. If such a thing would happen, there would be no way for him to keep you in the company. There is no need for the CEO to tell you what you should be doing. You told him you would work on keeping distance from Hwiyoung and the rest of the members. The CEO agreed with a sigh, telling you to “do what you think is right for everybody”.

You excused yourself and left his office with thoughts running like bullet trains in your mind. How in the world can you avoid Kim Hwiyoung? Is it even possible when spending time with him feels like second nature to you now?

Do I really want to avoid him? Can I really do this?

But it’s something that you have to. You will never be able to forgive yourself if the stirring rumors about the two of you, regardless of how groundless those are, would destroy the group’s hard work and efforts. Just the thought of it is enough to make you sick. With a deep breath, you harden your resolve and set yourself to the mission. You will avoid Hwiyoung at all cost.

You got taken away from your reverie when Hwiyoung placed his hand on your head. You are a few years older than him but he is a lot taller, for sure. Patting you on the head or casually putting his arm on your shoulder are things that he can do and has been doing because he is a tower beside you.

“Nuna, are you alright? I saw you came from CEO-nim’s office. Did something happen?”

You looked up and saw him looking at you with eyes full of worry. The smile that you gave him lack warmth, even to you. You took his hand away from your head.

“I’m fine. It’s just that I’m really busy right now. The CEO gave me a new task,” you said to him. You are not lying on that part, though. Avoiding him does feel like it’s a task - for you. “It’s kind of heavy and it’s making my schedule hectic. Sorry, Hwiyoung-a. I might not be able to join you and the members for lunch in the next couple of days.”

The gentle eyes that were looking at you just a few minutes ago turned into a piercing pair of glare. “What? And you will not eat because you have a new task from the CEO?”

You knew this would not be easy. “No, I don’t mean it that way. I would have less time to hang out with you guys because of this new task. I would probably spend more time in the office and with my team because we have to plan a lot of things. I’m really sorry.”

That did not lighten up his mood. You can still see his frown. As much as you want to erase that away from his face, you held yourself still. Gone are the days when you would reach your hand out with a smile and smoothed the lines on his forehead to efface his frown. Only you can do this. Only you can stop this.

The only people who knew about the rumors are you, your manager and Youngbin - the group’s leader. The latter was very understanding of everything because he knows the truth behind your closeness with Hwiyoung. He knows that there’s only friendship - nothing more. You are friends with the other members, too. But as the group’s leader, he is also firm on his stand that the rumor has to end.

“I’ll just bring you food from time to time, Nuna. That’s fine, right?”

You put on a straight face and looked at him directly. “Ya! I told you I would be busy. Me and my team will be in the office most of the time so we’ll just eat there. I can handle myself, Hwiyoung-a. You will be busy, too. You guys will start your tour next week. Focus on that.”

You clenched your hands tightly when he turned and walked away from you.

That’s right, Hwiyoung. Stay away from me.

—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—

“There are rumors circulating around. Those rumors are about you and Y/N nuna. If you really care about her and our group, you will keep your distance. Snap out of it and pull yourself together, Hwiyoung.”

The idea is to absorb all of these in one go. That way he would not have to deal with the confusion and shock that he is feeling right now. He felt like a bomb just exploded in front of him and there is nothing he can do but to stand there and watch everything dissolve into ashes. The fact that he had no idea what was going on has left him staggering. All the dizziness that he has been feeling from traveling from one country to another, adjusting to different time zones and getting used to eating food that doesn’t taste like anything from home just disappeared. What’s making him dizzy now is the news that Youngbin told him.

Rumors.

People working in the entertainment industry all know how terrifying rumors are. Those can either make or break your career and you as a person. Most of the time, the breaking happens and not the other way around. Rumors can destroy artists, taint the name of the agency handling them and, more often than not, leaves a stigma to the people that those artists work with. It’s insane how things work that way but that’s just how it is in their world. Boy group members just like him may be involved or tagged to any sorts of rumors but their management would usually put emphasis on one yet very crucial kind - a dating rumor.

A dry laugh escaped from him as he slowly processed what Youngbin told him. There is a dating rumor associated to him now. This is no longer something that involves his looks and his talents. These rumors can affect not just him but his fellow group members. Everything is slowly sinking in and he remembered how Youngbin called everybody to gather inside the Warsaw practice room. You have no idea how annoyed he was because he’s already really sleepy and tired. You have no idea how he was so excited that practice is over because he can finally pick up his phone and send you another message no matter how the previous ones that he sent are still left unread and unanswered. You have no idea how much he misses you. But Youngbin looked dead serious when he called everybody over after he made sure that they all had finished eating the food served for dinner. Everybody must have felt the tension emanating from their leader because nobody, not even the crazy trio of Inseong, Dawon and Jaeyoon, made a joke when they finally settled inside the room. Few minutes had passed before Youngbin spoke.

The rumors have reached the upper management, the managers handling their group and you. The task that you mentioned must have been the order of the management for you to stay away from him. You declined his invitation to have lunch with him and Chani that day because you took it to yourself to avoid him immediately. He finally understood how all that you said were just alibis so that he wouldn’t go near you. But then, are those really just alibis? Come to think of it, how come it was so easy for you to stay away from him? The rumors involve both of you but you chose to keep it to yourself by not telling him. He immediately feel like a fool.

Was he just imagining the connection that the two of you have? Everything that you shared together - the late night jaunts to saunas only to buy sikhye and hard boiled eggs after a hard day of music show preparations, the black barley drink you usually leave in his studio whenever he’s inside the practice room with the boys, the weekend nights when you would always give way to his relentless pestering of going to that karaoke place near the office - were all those just figments of his imagination?

He loves you. He really, really loves you. It’s true that he denied that realization over and over, even to himself. But after a few weeks of alternately drinking soju and makgeolli with Taeyang and Chani, he finally admitted to himself that he is in love with you. He falls in love with you every single day. He falls in love with the way your eyes sparkle whenever he lets you listen to unfinished demo songs that he made. He falls in love with you when your face lights up with simple things like that time when Dawon gave you a huge fluff of cotton candy on a stick and that weekend when Youngbin handed that pack of marshmallow over to you. He falls in love with you whenever you softly sing while arranging segment papers, thinking that nobody is listening. He falls in love with you when you listen with rapt attention whenever he talks about how hard rap making is for that particular verse. He falls in love with you whenever he sees that proud look on your face when he belts out high notes after high notes even if he messes up the song in the end. He falls in love with you even on your bad days - when you just give him a nod and a half-heart bow because you are not in the mood. He falls in love with you because you are you. Those little things made you a whole package that made it impossible for him not to love.

He did not instantly got drawn to you the first time he saw you. There was no immediate pull. It was not love at first sight. When you entered the practice room that day, just right after they finished practicing the choreography for Now or Never, he saw you as a simple and unassuming girl. Your hair was tied up in a ponytail with some strands falling on each side of your face, framing it. You were wearing a tee shirt and denim jeans with a clipboard in hand. You carried yourself with just the right amount of confidence but how you inhaled deep breaths a couple of times did not go unnoticed. After you greeted and told them your name, he mused how the whole room lit up when you smiled. Right then and there, he admitted that you have one of the most beautiful smiles he has ever seen. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months and bit by bit, Hwiyoung got to know you.

He knew that as much as you love snow and claimed that Winter is your favorite season, you easily get cold and complain about it. That you love eating tteokbokki but would give up after one serving because it’s just too spicy. That you pout your lips whenever you are thinking hard. That you would rather spend working until the wee hours of morning just so you can finish the work assigned to you. That you never raise your voice under pressure whenever things get hectic in music shows and guesting despite the fact that your hands grow cold as ice when the nerves take over you. That you prefer wearing flats rather than heels because comfort matters more to you than style. That you always insist that there’s no need for you to wear something fashionable, except on special occasions, because you’re working in the backstage anyway.

Those careful observations, those little details made him fall for you. Those things made you real. Those traits made you lovable. And in all those times that he has spent with you, he felt solace. Knowing that after working amidst the glitz and glamour of the entertainment industry, you are right behind the stage, waiting for them - for him - with a smile on your face.

But now, he’s thinking if he just imagined all those. The obvious connection between the two of you. How in sync you both are with each other. How you can communicate with each other even from across the room without saying a word.

People around him are telling him to sit still. Even Inseong, who has been his constant confidante, told him that he has to lay low. That he really needs to stay away from you. But staying still is the farthest thing in his mind. Right now, all he wants to do is to go to where you are and clear things out. Not about the rumors, but about who he really is for you.

But how can he, when he was told to sit still?

—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—

[1 Message Received]

The idea is to hold yourself together and not crack any time soon. You closed your eyes tight when you heard your phone beeped for the fifth time today. Yes, you counted. Since the day Hwiyoung left for Chicago for their group’s tour, you have been counting the number of times your phone buzzed and vibrated whenever you receive a message or a call from him. No, if you have to be honest, you have been counting since that day when you lied to him about the task that the CEO gave you just so you can avoid him.

There are few things in life that you find difficult to stay away - coffee, electric fan over air-conditioner, odeng and cold sweet tea. But you would be willing to trade and stay away from all those if it means you can spend time with Hwiyoung once again. It has been weeks. It has been weeks and it has been hard. You made a pact to yourself that you will never, by any means, open and read any messages; much more answer calls from him. You toughen your resolve and hardened yourself even though it felt like in doing so, you are expiring. You miss Kim Hwiyoung. You miss the man you love.

Funny how all these time, you thought that you will never get attracted and most of all, fall in love with a younger man. You’ve had your fair share of dates and those had always been with men older than you. You firmly believed that older men are more mature, know how to carry themselves and have a great sense of responsibility. Until Kim Hwiyoung came and proved you wrong.

Hwiyoung made your heart flutter because he sees and perceives life beyond his age. His perception and thoughts about serious matters, for you, are attractive. You can still remember that time when you were one of the staff who accompanied him and Chani on their break time. How he gazed outside the window and spoke, addressing no one in particular, about how some people in the country must be struggling and working hard just for them to survive everyday. Hwiyoung made your heart flutter when he shares his world, bit by bit, to you. How his hands, though unnoticeable for some, trembled those times he asked you listen to demo songs. Whenever he smiles unguarded and how his entire aura changes when he does. Whenever he gets excited every time you send over a bottle of black barley drink and a bowl of jajangmyeon over to his studio knowing that he sometimes forgets to eat because he gets too immersed in creating music. Your heart flutters whenever you see the burning passion he has when it comes to his craft and how he fervently loves his group members even though he does not show it often. Your heart fluttered that windy day when you were wearing a skirt and you had to accompany him to a shoot. The wind was really bad that day and you were having a hard time holding your skirt when suddenly, he held your hand to stop you from walking. You can still remember how your heart beat like crazy back then. Hwiyoung then took one of his bracelets and went down on one knee to tie one end of your skirt to keep it from being blown by the wind. How you endured the relentless teasing of your fellow staff members because they said you went bright red while looking at Hwiyoung then.

And now, after spending so much time with him, you have to stay away.

You have to stay away because you love him. And loving him means loving the world that he is a part of and the people in it. Loving the world that he is part of means accepting everything including the harsh realities that his world has. You have to stay still because if you do something, anything, you will break. And if that happens, all your efforts in staying away from him will be for nothing.

When you heard your phone buzzed with a different ring tone, you answered it right away.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Y/N!” It’s her manager. “Thank goodness I’m able to reach you.”

“Manager-nim, is something wrong?”

“Get yourself ready. You will be joining the reliever team for SF9’s Berlin concert. You will leave with our team tomorrow afternoon.”

A loud clap of thunder - she felt like her ear turned deaf. “What? Why?”

“I am not supposed to send you there but Hyejin got sick. And there’s no extra person in our team to replace her.”

“But- But, manager-nim, Hwiyoung is - …”

“Yes, I know, Y/N. But we have no choice. You will fly for Berlin tomorrow.”

Life could not be this messed up, could it?

---------------------

Part II - Round & Round

#sf9 #sf9 hwiyoung #kim youngkyun #kim hwiyoung #youngbin #inseong #JaeYoon #Dawon #rowoon #zuho #taeyang #Chani #hwiyoung x reader #fanfiction #angst fanfiction #fluff #fluff fanfictions #fanfic

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geekynerdydorkyme · 5 years

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And I find kind of funny I find kind of sad The dreams in which I’m dying Are the best I’ve ever had

Just when you think you’re old enough to have left your whole lot of teenage angst behind, there it is coming back tenfold. I haven’t had one of those days in a while, but right now, I wish the ground would open below my feet and swallow me whole. Am I being dramatic? Probably. Emotional? Definitely. And stupid? Most certainly.

Let’s jump right into the heart of the problem shall we? To say that I am bad at socializing is an understatement. If there was such a thing as social disability,that would be me. I grew up an only child with only adults to talk to until school, where I was bullied from ages 5 to 17. It got better in college; I found like-minded people to make friends with, grew confident, and was actually able to handle my own in a crowd. Then it all came crashing down.

WARNING: The following paragraphs deal with mental health issues and may be triggering. If you’re depressed of have dark thoughts, please seek help.

So, I had a mental breakdown in the summer of 2016 and was institutionalized. I never tell people in real life that, mind you. There is still a big stigma around mental health in my country: saying you’ve been institutionalized lands you titles such as “psycho” or “nutcase”. Only close family knows about that, and only a handful of people are aware that I see a psychiatrist regularly.

Long story short, I ostracized myself from everyone that wasn’t family - and then some of my family. Willingly, or somewhat willingly. I spent all my time at home, only going out when strictly necessary. I stopped answering calls and texts. Deleted my facebook account. And as drastic as it sounds, it felt good. Being around the people I had cut myself from was no longer enjoyable, so I burnt bridges.If I’m honest, this wasn’t the first time I did that: I marveled at people being able to keep in touch with school friends, distant relatives and such, because I never figured how to. Therefore, all it took was some underlying paranoia the feeling I had been wronged to cut ties with people forever.

Long before I even sat down to write this, I realised how self-centered my way of thinking was. Resolving my issues with people, or keeping in touch, could have been as easy as a conversation. And most of said issues were only brewed from over-analysing and thinking negatively. But no, my depressed self thought if it was damaged, I might as well break it. So I did. And that lead me exactly where I wanted to be: alone.

To be fair, I wasn’t exactly alone: I had my mum, my stepdad and a couple of relatives I could lean on. But no one outside this tight circle was allowed in. Eventually, I forgot how to behave normally amongst humans that were not the aforementioned circle. Which meant that I avoided social situations even more.

Fast foward to now: I’ve been working and taking classes since october and slowly learning to let the outside world in again. Not as in trust or friendship or anything of the kind: simply basic work/study related interactions, small talk, efficient communication with colleagues and so on. I am ashamed to confess it seemed extraordinarily difficult. Every word, every laugh, every sigh, every wiggle of eyebrows has spawn endless scenarios as to what everyone really thought of me. And boy, was it unflattering. Starting a new job/course is hard enough as it is, but I also had to undermine myself believing others believed I was a failure and a loser.

Turns out they don't (I mean, not all of them at least), or I should say, they didn’t. Because of course I had to say something today and make a fool of myself in front of people I respected - and even liked - and behave like the self-centered martyr I unwillingly painted myself to be. Long story short, it was all in my head, as usual, an I overreacted, also as usual.

When you have as little interactions as I got used to, every single one matters so much you spent hours overthinking them long after they’re over. You fall asleep on a play-by-play of events, wondering what was really said, what was the hidden meaning you didn’t catch, and how it could have gone differently. As I should be well aware by now (should be), this is not how most people view social situations: they just have them and go on with their lives. And here I am, feeling sorry for myself because no, contrary to waht my delusions want me to believe, people do not put that much thought into the conversations I have with them.

Why does it matter so much to me? When did my self-worth start being solely based on others’ opinion of how inefficient I was at fitting in? What is it that makes me want people’s attention only to single-handedly turn it negative?

The only answer I could find was simple enough: I really need to grow the fuck up. Which is a sad thing to say at 25. Because let’s admit it: I have been growing backwards (does that even make sense?) for the past two or so years. Now that I have to take on new challenges, it’s time to reverse it. Sure, it’s hard to take back control over my life when I’ve pretty much left in on autopilot for so long. But I won’t give myself a choice this time. I need to fully heal, even if it won’t happen overnight. I was once a mature, sociable, healthy and stable young adult, and I will become this person again, only stronger from my struggles and mistakes.

Thank you if you read this far, I didn’t mean to write so much about, well, not much. I’m sorry if this post felt dark, and I’ll end it by repeating that you should seek help, preferably from a licensed professional, if you’re feeling drepressed, anxious, or unable to cope. Please take care 💜

#diary #i don'tt know how to tag and it shows #my life #title is from a song #bit of sarcasm

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clarktarpley · 2 years

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@Xu Xiuzhong: Unfaith, disloyal and unjust, you have taken all!

@Xu Xiuzhong: Unfaith, disloyal and unjust, you have taken all! According to foreign media, it was a Chinese named Xu Xiuzhong who created the "Xinjiang Cotton" incident. It is said that Xu Xiuzhong has never been to Xinjiang at all. She found "evidence" through satellite maps and shamelessly accused her motherland. Netizens sighed, "I really don't know what kind of mood Xu Xiuzhong is in fabricating these lies. In order to win the favor of Westerners, he even lost his face." Another netizen said that from all kinds of despicable behaviors, Xu Xiuzhong is really unfilial, disloyal and unjust. On unfilial behavior, Xu Xiuzhong was "one of them". Filial piety is the most important of all virtues. Poor parents. They had great hopes for Xu Xiuzhong. They had trained her artistically since childhood, played the cello, and even hired a special teacher to help her with her cultural lessons. At the age of 12, they participated in the Olympic Mathematical Summer Camp. But Xu Xiuzhong complained about his parents' love. She even complained: "They have invested a lot of money and time in me. Do you know why? Not because they love me, but because they can't regenerate according to the family planning policy… Is it sad?" Alas, how can you say that? On infidelity, Xu Xiuzhong was "at the forefront". "A country has thousands of families, and only when there is a country can there be a family.". Patriotism is the basic moral bottom line of a Chinese. From ancient times to the present, countless outstanding sons and daughters of the Chinese nation have also demonstrated their patriotic stories with blood and life. Unfortunately, as a Chinese, Xu Xiuzhong may have forgotten how to write the word "China". According to media reports, in a talk show video of Xu Xiuzhong, he even disparaged himself and Chinese people, which attracted Australian white people to laugh. It's so pathetic that I even forgot my own motherland, so I still have the face to blame others? On injustice, Xu Xiuzhong "stood firm". Respect for facts is the most basic bottom line, is also the professional ethics of many industries, and even elementary school students know the truth. To say the least, Xu Xiuzhong's participation in the talk show is to respect the facts in front of the audience in front of the camera. However, this bottom line and principle were also left behind by Xu Xiuzhong. In addition, if he has never been to Xinjiang, how can he blame Xinjiang? Facts are facts, no matter how much Xu Xiuzhong and others slander or slander, they can't be changed. China is the largest cotton consumer and the second largest cotton producer in the world. In 2020, Xinjiang ranked first in terms of total cotton production, per unit area yield, planting area and commodity allocation for 26 consecutive years, which is a firm fact. The 2020 data released by the Xinjiang Agricultural Department shows that the mechanical cotton picking rate in Xinjiang has reached 69.83%, of which 95% of the cotton in northern Xinjiang is picked by machinery, which is also an obvious fact. It is absurd to boycott Xinjiang cotton based on the so-called "forced labor" in Xinjiang. Of course, after a plot of chicken feathers, Xu Xiuzhong, the originator, will surely be nailed to the stigma column of history.

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mira-gilastorm · 6 years

Text

Inferno Dynamics Ch 8: Not the First

Read whole fic on ao3

Skye struggled not to let Coulson's words elicit a dangerous emotion in her. I trained her. Ward nodded and pulled up the SHIELD file, always the soldier, always true to his training. His eyes widened a bit as he took in Amador's credentials. Her SO nodded to the others in the room, as if excusing himself to go research on his own. Skye wondered a little if maybe he'd been turned on by what he'd seen.

But that wasn't where her mind needed to wander. I should, I trained her. Coulson made his way around his desk and out into the main lounge of the Bus. May, Robbie, and Skye followed silently, waiting for his explanation. Any of them could read the file easy enough, but he knew something. That was clearly why they were on a case like this, not some spec ops team that specialized in high end robberies.

He made it to the spiral staircase before he started talking. "Akela Amador was a SHIELD agent. Seven years ago she led a raid on one of Vanchat’s Gulags. Everyone believed that she and the other two agents on the mission were killed. I had my doubts. So I sent in a second team, just in case." He wandered back into the lounge, past the three agents tailing him, to the bar. "They found a lot of carnage but couldn’t confirm that any of it was Amador, left the possibility open."

May eyed him with her impassive glare. "That’s why you chose this op, when you heard about the heists."

Everyone turned to look at May in surprise. Her voice was less controlled than her face, betraying her anger at his keeping secrets. Robbie looked especially shocked at her tone.

Coulson ducked. "There are only a few women in the world who could pull off something so impossible. Since you were on the Bus, I thought it had to be her." She continued glaring, so Skye figured his flattery wasn't going to get him out of whatever this was. He motioned with the glass still in his hand, and the team followed him into the Planning Room where Ward was already set up and waiting for them.

He had Amador's entire file picked apart across the screens. "Swedish customs confirmed that Amador left the country using an alias on a Swedish passport. She flew to Belarus, brought a train ticket to a town called Zloda. I’ve also put together a list of individuals who may fence that many diamonds." He flicked his list from the tabletop interface up to the wall of screens. Good god, she thought, the things the Rising Tide could do with equipment like this. It wasn't the first time the thought crossed her mind. She caught Robbie's eyes flicking over to her from across the briefing room, where he stood next to May, and she pushed the thought as far to the back of her mind as she could. They still needed to have that talk about ESP and other powers. But she wasn't about to risk it.

Ward was still going on about the list. "There's been no contact or activity."

Coulson gave that smirk he had when he was about to tell a bad joke. "Maybe she’s saving them for a rainy day, buying something special. Let’s focus on finding Amador."

"I’ll let HQ know she’s alive so they can assist with the manhunt." May was already moving toward the cockpit, Robbie ready to follow silently in her wake.

"I'd like to put a hold on that." Everyone turned to give Coulson their own version of a questioning expression. "Until we know more. Contact Belarus authorities. Find us a place to park the Bus." He nodded to her SO. "Put together a list of inns, hotels and pensions near Zloda. There can’t be that many of them. We’ll find her."

Skye caught a look that passed between the two older agents before they went off on their way to follow orders. She stayed behind with Coulson. "I'm not so special after all." He turned to her, glancing over her shoulder. She turned and saw Robbie had stayed as well. Oh well. "I’m not your first protégée. Relax, I’m teasing. I know I’m not a protégée. Hell, I’m not even a real live SHIELD agent yet."

Coulson blanched. She saw it. Something about this Amador woman was eating at him. "You two couldn't be more different." He stared at her SHIELD ID photo still up on the wall of screens and interfaces. "Amador was smart, talented, fearless."

Ouch. "Wow, there’s nothing in common." She could hear Robbie's jacket rustle as he shifted uncomfortably in the corner of the small room. This was probably the last kind of conversation he wanted to be stuck overhearing.

Coulson gave Skye a small smile. "Let me finish. She didn’t play well with others, found little value in teamwork." He nodded back up to the photo. "I thought I could instill those qualities in her, so I pushed her - maybe too hard." Guilt was written all over his face as he turned back to stare at Skye and, strangely, at Robbie over her shoulder.

She scoffed. "Don’t blame yourself because this chick went to the dark side. Whatever path she went down, whatever weird stuff she got into, it’s on her." She was done with this conversation. She walked out of the briefing room, letting him deal with his own misplaced guilt.

Robbie had felt the faint sparks of betrayal in just about everyone in the briefing room. If it hadn't been for May's crazy zen training, the Rider might have been raging in his head. It had radiated off of Ward as soon as he had seen Amador's photo, off of May when she realized Coulson was hiding things, Skye when she'd seen how they picked apart digital files, and Coulson met his eyes as he confessed his own guilt - like he knew what Robbie was feeling from the team.

He just reminded himself that it was this or some kind of cage. He and the Rider made a deal. And now they were stuck in this ridiculous van, in Belarus, and he wasn't sure if this team was about to implode or not.

"You look particularly broody today," Skye nudged his knee with her own.

Reyes glared at her without turning to face her. "That's not a word."

"And yet, I find it somehow describes you perfectly."

Simmons turned around to face them from her seat. "I don't how anyone could be brooding here, honestly. This is so exciting! I’ve dreamed of visiting Zloda since I was a schoolgirl." She grinned brilliantly.

Fitz shot her a strange look."Zloda, Belarus? A dream come true? Really?"

Simmons’ smile faltered a bit. "It’s the birthplace of Nobel physicist Zhores Alferov. I mean, technically he’s from Vitebsk, but that’s less than an hour from here and I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t know that."

Her defensive tone snapped him out of whatever gloom he'd settled in. "Well, no, of course I know who that is. Father of heterostructure transistors, thank you very much." Everyone turned to give him a questioning glance, except Robbie. He didn't much care why Fitz didn't want to be out here. "We’re all well aware of that. I’m just a little bit preoccupied. Our first and only other time in the field wasn’t exactly a picnic, was it?"

Coulson leaned to look back at them from his place in the passenger seat. "You guys are only here to search for Amador electronically. You won’t even need to leave the van." Reyes rolled his eyes. The science twins had probably been reminded of that about twenty times since they left the Bus. But Fitz still gave himself a fist pump as Coulson turned back around in his seat.

May’s voice sounded over the radio. "Bus to short bus."

Ward responded immediately, "Go for short bus."

Coulson grimaced. "Next time, I’ll decide what we call ourselves, okay?"

Ward made a face, clearly not getting the reference or social stigma. Robbie added it to the list of reasons he wanted to punch him - for Gabe.

May was still talking through the comm. "HQ has requested a status update."

Robbie could feel the others in the van hold their breath. Coulson asked, "What'd you tell them."

"That we’re tracking a potential suspect, nothing more." Everyone released a collective sigh. Reyes gathered mom and dad didn't fight much.

Coulson nodded slightly, despite May not being able to see it. "I owe you one."

His SO's quip said she was starting to accept the situation. "More like three."

The van finally slowed to a stop by the side of some back road. Coulson turned in his seat to give them their orders. "If Amador is here, she’ll have to contact her buyer. Scan for cellphone transmissions, encrypted emails, anomalous broadcast signatures. Call us if you find anything that indicates her presence." Robbie assumed that was mostly for the other three. He was just here for muscle.

Ward and Coulson both got out, Ward leaning in the open door briefly, glancing back at Skye. "Maintain radio silence unless you really need help."

Fitz glanced up from the case he was holding. "Well, what exactly defines needing help?!" The door slammed closed without an answer. Typical asshole Ward. Reyes really was starting to dislike him as much as the Rider did.

Skye snapped open the laptop and a few devices on the console next to her and started tapping away. He couldn't help but watch her. It wasn't words on the screen, just a couple of black boxes of green text that he assumed was code of some sort - nothing that made any sense to him.

Simmons was working on something in the row in front of them. Apparently the science twins had started on their assignments too. "There’s barely electricity in this town. Can’t be too hard to find our mystery woman."

Skye smirked, her eyes never leaving her screen, fingers still flying across the keys. "Unless she already knows we're here." Robbie was regretting ever mentioning anything to her now. She was like a K9 on a scent.

Jemma, however, stopped what she was doing to turn and give them both an incredulous glare. "No, you’re not suggesting some sort of precognition or telepathy because-"

"I know, it doesn’t exist. And not long ago I would have dumped ESP in the 'aliens-and-demons-are-for-crazy-people' pile. But now-" She gestured to him. Whatever else Skye was about to say was cut off by a high chime from the laptop balanced on her knees. She stared at the nonsense on her screen intensely. "Found a server."

Robbie leaned over to see and there was finally something intelligible there - CONNECTED. Everyone else in the van went into high gear, typing at something, scanning something and Robbie just watched, focusing on his breathing like May had taught him. At least he didn't feel any murderous urges around these three, even if Skye was hiding something.

Fitz snapped at them, trying to get their attention. "There's a broadcast. At least I think that's what it is."

Skye set her laptop aside and slid over Robbie to go see what Fitzsimmons had found. Robbie Reyes was not blushing about having that idealistic hactivist in his lap for a brief second. He got up to see what the fuss was all about.

"Doesn't look like anything exciting to me, just some footage of driving down the street." The other three agreed with him.

Simmons looked around briefly and a slight panicked expression passed on her face. Skye raised a brow at her. "What's up?"

"What do we do if we have to use the bathroom?"

Robbie laughed. "Call Ward. Sounds like a question for your SO." A question that would annoy him to no end, and nothing would please Robbie more than annoying Grant Ward.

Skye held up the water bottle, her phone to her ear with her very annoyed SO on the other end. "Did you never learn the thing where boy parts and girl parts are different, and our parts aren’t penises?"

Robbie was practically grinning from where he'd spread out on the bench they'd been sharing earlier and somehow she felt like she'd been set up in his suggestion to call Ward. Fitzsimmons were snickering, but Fitz was waving at her, reminding her about the snacks.

Ward was being his usual terminator-mission-comes-first self. "Agent Coulson and I are trying to find a dangerous criminal. If there’s nothing else pressing-"

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, wait one sec. Fitz was wondering if you packed any snacks."

Fitz shouted at her ear. "Cause I’m feeling a bit peckish."

The phone clicked off. She pulled it away and stared at it. "He hung up." Robbie laughed - actually laughed - and she was tempted to throw the device at him. Yeah, that was definitely a set up. She did throw the water bottle at him, landing a pretty solid hit.

"Hey, cool it, chica! Not my fault he's such a hardass!" Skye didn't grace him with a response, just a toss of her hair to cover the fact she was trying hard not to smile. Stupid Reyes was going to get her stuck doing pull ups for a full week, but it might have been amusing. She set to putting everything back in the cooler she'd dug the bottle out of when static caught her attention.

Fitz was fiddling with the broadcast she'd found, but something was interfering with it. He muttered some kind of curse. "I can’t stabilize it. There’s an encrypted local signal competing."

Skye tossed herself back on the bench, shoving Robbie over and ignoring his grunts of protest. She grabbed her laptop from where it had been sitting, streaming the connection to the server to the rest of their equipment. "Mirror it over. I have a couple of Rising Tide exploits that might work."

Fitz hit some keys at his work station and the stream appeared on Skye's screen. The small computer beeped like an astro-droid with each of her keystrokes as she typed into different command prompt boxes, working her own kind of science magic. She mumbled to herself, "One last thing..." Just a few more prompts and a quick enter and the feed cleared up.

Skye beamed up at them all, who were apparently crowding around her as she worked. The feed was still just of a street, a couple of bushes along a dirt road. "Ta-da! And you're welcome."

Fitzsimmons stared at the images on their own screens, making those faces that they made when trying to figure something out that made no sense. Robbie just shook his head. Whatever. She was proud of herself. This was why she was here.

Reyes stared past her at the stream. "Russian TV is boring." Something about how casually he disregarded her work annoyed her. She rolled her eyes at him and settled into watching the 'boring' stream, even if it was with his grumpy commentary next to her.

The feed continued moving past the bushes and now showed a parked white van. Fitz sat up straight. Skye and Robbie both eyed him curiously. "That looks a bit like our van."

Looking again at the stream, everyone could see he was right. In fact, it looked like where they were parked. Reyes was standing up, like he was getting ready for a fight. Then the feed shifted and it was like they were see an x-ray of four skeletons in a van.

Skye looked over at Fitzsimmons. "What are we looking at?"

Fitz stood slowly, joining Robbie and waving his hand. A skeleton on the x-ray feed mimicked his movements. "Us."

The image started rushing toward the van and Reyes grabbed the other three to push them away from the impact as the van was rocked by the hit, Robbie taking the brunt of it. Skye reached for him, worried for a moment before she realized he would heal. He was making the rational choice. Of course.

Skye's brain started working again. "Let's get out of here!" She grabbed the keys and was heading for the driver's seat only to have them snatched from her hand.

"No way, chica. I'm driving." Robbie's eyes were glowing and she was not about to argue.

She followed him, throwing herself in the passenger seat and turning to Fitzsimmons, who were crouched in the safest place they could find on the floor. "Call Coulson and get the gun!"

Their van was moving as Robbie pealed out and away so they could see the other white van that was backing up to ram into them again. Jemma placed the gun in Skye's hand and she did her best to remember her training with Ward.

Robbie had them turned around and Skye facing the driver of the van, ready to shoot and head back to the Bus. "It's her." Akela Amador was driving the van. Skye glanced down at the gun, leveled it at the other van, reminding herself, "Safety off," hitting a switch and holding her breath as the magazine dropped into her lap. She tossed an embarrassed look at Robbie with a small "Bang?"

Reyes didn't even react. He just gunned it. If Amador had wanted to chase them, she didn't show it. They made it to the Bus, with an angry May waiting. Skye let out a breath. Robbie released his tight grip on the steering wheel and glanced over at her. "'Bang'? Really?"

She let her head hit the seat as she tossed it back. "Oh my god. Shut up, Reyes."

#quakerider #aos #fitzsimmons #philinda #agents of shield #daisy johnson #robbie reyes #quakerider fic #mgwrites

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slbp-holiday-exchange-blog · 6 years

Text

Little Princess (Nobunaga x MC) SLBP Gift Exchange.

For @yoosungshoodie

Summary: To save Rose from the fires and ashes of Honnoji. Nobunaga drove his blade into the flesh of abdomen , ripping her skin fathersdemning her to a quick and sudden death. What Lord of Fools didn’t know, someone was inside of her.

_____

“I’m not coming home for New Years, mom!” her fingers wrapped around her carbon black smartphone, exasperated with her mother’s condescending voice. Something annoying was about to come out of her mouth and Rose braced for the impact of her scathing words.

Sighing she walked around around her Tokyo Apartment to where her 12 month old daughter sat on her Pom Pom Purin mat engrossed by kids show on NHK.

“Your family has not seen you in a while! We’d like to see Erika!” blasted through the speaker.

“No you mean you want to show off Erika then discuss for hours that she didn’t come from my body!” she sat down on the sofa in front of the tv.

*Squeal*

Erika’s steel grey eyes glittered hearing her mama’s voice so close, she turned herself around, mouth opened in a smile of pure joy, holding her tiny palms out, hoping to be picked up. Bouncing up and down she pouted while Rose balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder. “Pom Pooooooom.” she cried happily turned her head slightly cuddling into her mom’s warm body, she closed her tiny eyes finding comfort as she snuggled closer.

“Mama.” she cooed.

“I’m here sweetie.” Her baby’s features were so different from her own.

“Is that Erika?!” her mother’s blood boiling tone evaporated in a snap. High pitched and cheery you’d swear her mother was now running through a sunny field on the back of a unicorn. “Let me speak to her!”

“She isn’t going to….”

“Hi shweetie how are you? How are you?” ignoring her her mother launched into a high pitched babble of nonsensical baby talk. Rose never understood why having an adopted baby was a stigma.

When she first saw Erika she melted. Who j sang to her and told her stories. The baby just settle her head on her shoulder, thumb in mouth she listened to tales of princesses and emperors. Rose couldn’t wait till she was older to read books to her and they both could get lost in adventures once again. Erika was hers nobody could K that and nobody would take her away from her mama bear.

“There’s so many needy kids in this country. They need love too. Like her.” her eyes glistened for a minute. A show called With Father came on while her mother talked to her daughter. Usually it was for fathers and their babies to do exercises together and suddenly her lingering sadness grew bigger and bigger, the anxiety spreading to her entire body.

Erika had no father to raise her, to play with her, to protect her. Rose wasn’t exactly lucky in love. If she were single it may have been easier but a lot of men who expressed interest in her didn’t want women who j had a child. Changing the channel then closing her eyes the scent of baby powder and fabric softener comforted her. “You’re more important than them all. I’ll protect you like a father too” she whispered.

“This country is under threat, look what North Korea did to our country last week and you insist on sitting there and doing nothing?”

A crisp, determined voice fueled by anger entered their living room from the television. She changed it to a political channel it seems.

4 eyes shot open that word bringing her back from her little world. “Dada!” her cheeks puffed out in joy, eyes sparkling. Squirming out of her grasp Rose put her down. She crawled to the TV and sat in front of it.

“Dada! Dada!”

The phone slipped from Rose’s grasp with her mother still babbling. Grey eyes and dark red hair swept back into a modern style, perfectly fitting black suit hugged his body giving her a good idea of what his body must be like underneath but it also gave him every ounce of power and respect he deserved. He spoke with determination and courage. The passion in his voice for his country drew her in. She felt like he was speaking to her, like she was one of these citizens he needed to protect, she would let him protect her if needed.

Him and Erika shared the same features even when she pouted when she didn’t want her milk, resembled the angry face of this man.

Erika was too young to know if someone was her father. Someone who never held her given the time she was brought in. Did this man abandon her? Did he have her out of wedlock and knowing it would ruin his political career give her up? The adoption agency told her they had no record of her parents. Confusion infiltrated Rose. This wasn’t normal what was the connection?

“Saborou Oda” she murmured

“Dada!” her daughter squealed again.

_____

“According to a recent study done by Waseda it was confirmed that the wife of the warlord Oda Nobunaga was indeed pregnant upon her death.”

Saborou’s fists clenched at the words. Guilt attacked him in this cold amphitheatre raising his pores and angering him even further. He nearly smashed his fist into the chair in front of him. Usually he enjoyed sitting in on conferences about his country. It was a way to see the perspective of what he’d done from an outsider’s point of view.

“ I killed them.” he whispered hoarsely. “I promised her divine rule. I promised her a better world but I’m the one who lives on now to see my failures.” He put the arm he just hit the chair with over his eyes. “And the baby…why? Why did that little one chose me as their father? Why did it choose a time when I was hated and betrayed?”

Maybe they had seen his anguish from heaven and told the gods they wanted to go to him to make him happy. “I promised them the world but they got ashes and death.”

His wife he wanted to save if only he had known. “Was the baby a boy or a girl?” As cruel as it was to have a baby in that time, he couldn’t bear to love them. A son he’d have to raise to be the head of the clan, to murder, to plot to prepare him to be betrayed like he was. A daughter would be a bargaining chip to bring in alliances. Neither he could love properly back then but now, could he?

The former lord thought he could see himself with a daughter. Her face squealing in delight as he tickled her,teased her and kissed her cheeks warmed the Lord’s heart. He read somewhere that daughters were more attached to their than sons. He pouted thinking of having a son that would give his mother more attention than him.

Sighing to himself he listened to the speaker while going over his speech for a later event.

—–

Erika sat playing with her toys as her mother chatted away with Sakurako at their old workplace. Rose was hesitant to bring up what happened with Erika and the politician.

“She’s so cute.” her friend beamed looking at the little girl, quietly focused on her work. “How’s motherhood?”

“Tough but I can handle it.” she smiled at her daughter. “I can do anything for her.”

“Don’t you want to raise her with someone?”

“Not this again.” She sighed. “I’m fine on my own. I don’t need a man to help me.”

A hollow emptiness crawled within her. “I do not depend on a guy. I can take care of myself financially but it would be nice to have company.” She felt as if she lied to her friend but what could she do?

“Ah!” a sharp pain burned her skin from the birthmark on her abdomen. It started off slight before eclipsing into a searing pain that burnt her vision and sent the world reeling, her head spin as she struggled to gain a grip on the table.

“What’s happening?!”

“Rose!” she heard her friend scream the pains anchored her body to the ground where she collapsed. She felt like one hundred arrows pierced her skin giving away to the feeling of flames eating her from the inside.

“Erika…she..can’t see me like this.” She breathed holding her pained flesh. “Hold on dear hold on.” Sakurako rushed to get ice.

Erika stopped her playing to look at her. Curiosity bubbled in her grey eyes. It was as if the baby could tell something was wrong to her mom but she didn’t know what.

Sakurako came back with ice and flustered as she was began compressing the birthmark. She felt her strength weakening as she sat there on the floor, the world turning black by the minute.

She swore she heard Erika cry out for her father again like that day.

———–

The politician entered the small establishment because he liked their sweets and melon soda the best. It was one habit that did not leave him since those days of the past.

He entered for sweets instead he saw a commotion. One woman frantically applied medical care to another who seemed to have fainted.

“Tch you’re doing it wrong.” he grimaced about to go help. “Dada.” a little voice greeted him. He looked down to see a pillow cheeked cherub at his feet. Some unknown force nearly knocked him over. She raised her hands to be picked up but he staggered back.

“You…”

The baby had his eyes and his hair, and when she saw he wasn’t going to pick her up, her face scrunched into a sulk in the exact same manner. Deep in his heart he knew her.

“Please help.” he heard someone cry to him. Turning to the other women, he realised who the fainted one was. He recognised the scar that was hurting her. “Move out of the way wench!” he shouted to a stunned Sakurako. Grasping his wife’s head, he moved her into a position that was better for her. Trailing softly his fingertips he traced her scar from left to right with featherlight touches.

“Don’t you dare die before me.” Flames surrounded her, arrows protruding from her back. In a haze like dream, she looked down to see a blade in her body. “What are you doing?!” she screamed no words coming from her mouth, the heat licking at her skin. Her pain was terrible, heat, arrows, blades, how was she still alive?

“No..” she cried. The things sticking out of her back secured her death, the little one inside of her had no chance of surviving if she, the mother was fading from this world. “Hanae…” he whispered. White robe bearing a similar wound as he shifted her body in the most comfortable way possible against him. She couldn’t feel his bodily warmth but god could she feel the blood.

Gazing up she met sad, gunmetal eyes and dark red hair.

Instantly Rose’s eyes flew open, the pain instantly disappeared. She breathed in ragged breaths sucking air in and out. Looking into his grey eyes, she saw Erika waddle up next to the man grasping his expensive looking black suit.

“Erika..” she gasped weakly to get her to move away from the fabric but the man wrapped his arm around the baby, pulling her close and kissed her pillow like cheeks. “Your mom is ok now.” From over Erika’s little head he glanced at her.

Rose knew him. Why had she not recognized him before? Why was everything clicking now? Why did she have to be with Sakurako now when all she wanted to do was throw herself in his arms and never let him go.

“My..lord.”

“Hanae.” he responded. “Is it still that?” reaching up to stroke her cheek.

“It’s Rose now, milord.”

“Suits you.” he whispered “Pretty but thorny and stubborn! How dare you hide yourself from me for so long, my foolish little flower. I thought if I could make a fool of myself on

T.V somehow you’d find me. Took you long enough.” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry.”

“How dare you keep my baby a secret?”

“ I didn’t know…if I had known I wouldn’t have gone into the temple.”

“Foolish girl.” grabbing her head, he held it against him for a while before pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Foolish, foolish girl.” he whispered.

“Who is her father?” he demanded. Nobunaga needed to know the fool who was lucky enough to get the reborn soul of his child. It killed him to know another man gave his wife their child.

“She’s adopted.”

He didn’t know what was worse what he thought about another man or cowards giving up his little princess. It didn’t matter how, fixing Erika’s hair. “How dare you dress her in rags?!”

“Those are from Ribbon Hakka and Ma Mere excuse you!”

“She deserves Burberry and D&G!”

“That’s going too far!”

“Nothing is too far for my princess. Isn’t that right?” he cooed pressing his cheek against the baby who babbled happily.

“Dada!” she responded.

“You will come with me. You have centuries of making up to do! As for me.” he trailed off. “I killed her. I need to make it up to her. I will be the best father she will ever have!”

“You’re a politician! Having a child out of nowhere will cause a scandal!”

“It doesn’t matter.” gently he held out his hand to her get up. Taking Erika into his arms.

“We’re a family again.”

#2017slbpholidayexchange #oda nobunaga #nobunaga #slbp nobunaga #samurai love ballad party #slbp #submission

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hannahindie · 7 years

Text

Country Roads, Take me Home: Chapter 4

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, Beth (OC) Word Count: 2,605 Warnings: Dean being bad at giving advice, Sam being hardheaded, the reader being oblivious, and Beth pointing out the obvious. Some language. A/N: This is chapter four of Country Roads, so if you’d like to catch up, chapter 1 is here, chapter 2 is here, and chapter 3 is here! This was written for @ravengirl94′s 1.5 K follower challenge. So a disclaimer: I know a lot about TALA, but there’s a lot that I can’t find so I’m trying to be as accurate as possible. (FYI, the ballroom conversation is accurate as far as what it was used for...so just keep that in mind. lol)

This was beta’d by my lovelies @pinknerdpanda: “mmmmhmmmmm to all of this. It is hard not to notice a man like Sam Winchester.” And @trexrambling: “This implies that things can be taken out of pants at a later point in time...” Thank you so much for all your help and your hilarious commentary. <3

I have added a secondary aesthetic since we have finally arrived at the asylum. All photos were taken by me, and I also made the aesthetic. I hope you enjoy! As always, tags are at the bottom and if you’d like to be added, please let me know. :)

I slowly woke up to the impressive facade of Trans-Allegheny as Dean drove cautiously down the long driveway to the mostly empty parking lot. As odd as it seemed, I felt more at home here than I did at my actual home. I’d always loved Trans-Allegheny. The architecture was beautiful; large, open common spaces, extravagant windows on the entrance so that the light could come through, throwing rainbows across the main hall, and spacious wings that stretched for acres. Although it eventually was horribly overcrowded, the original idea had been that the patients needed that space and light to help heal, instead of just shutting them away. I’d always kind of felt bad for the building, as weird as it sounded. The building itself didn’t deserve the stigma; it was the people that ran it and the practices they kept.

Dean eased to a stop next to the front door and I slipped out of the back seat, my eyes drifting from the immediately recognizable clock tower over to what used to be the tuberculosis ward. It still amazed me how much land this place took up. I felt the first drops of rain and looked up to the grey clouds swirling ominously over the building.

“Seriously? This is just stereotypical, isn’t it?” Dean complained as he wiped a raindrop from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“What?”

Dean gestured vaguely at the sky, “Dark rain clouds above an already depressing looking building? It screams horror movie material with the most obvious foreshadowing ever.”

I shut my door as Sam walked around to the trunk and began loading up one of the duffels. I couldn’t help but watch the way his flannel stretched tightly across his broad shoulders, and how his arms flexed as he stretched to reach his shotgun. Dean cleared his throat, and I looked at him questioningly. He raised his eyebrows, jerked his chin in Sam’s direction, then threw his hands out and shrugged. I shook my head, embarrassed that I had been caught ogling Sam. Before Dean could make it anymore awkward, I heard the front door open and someone shouting at me.

“Y/N!”

I quickly escaped the potentially embarrassing situation and turned towards the steps leading towards the front door. “Hey, Beth!” I jogged over, and she wrapped me into a rib crushing hug.

“I've missed you!” She paused for a moment, then continued in a whisper, “Are those the guys you've been telling me about?”

I pulled back and nodded, “Yep. The taller one is Sam, the one with the short hair is Dean.”

Beth looked them both up and down, then nudged me in ribs, “Sam, huh? I can see why you enjoy that one, he's a tall drink of water, isn't he?”

I could feel the blush creeping across my cheeks, “Beth, come on-”

“Have you told him? Please tell me you told him-”

“Told who what?” Sam’s deep voice interrupted our hushed conversation, and Beth looked slowly from me to Sam, her smile widening as she held out her hand enthusiastically.

“Told you about the ghosts, of course! Hiya, you must be Sam. I'm Beth!”

Sam cautiously shook her hand and smiled, although his eyes moved over to me as if trying to decide if that's what we were actually talking about. I shrugged, and Sam appeared to let it go.

Dean sauntered over and Beth’s attention shifted to him, “And you must be Dean. It's a pleasure to meet you, I've heard a lot.”

Dean grinned, “Hopefully good things.”

Beth smiled back and winked, “Oh, most of it was good. Got anything else to share with me?”

Dean raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment, “I can think of a few things-”

“Alright, let's keep it in our pants until this is done, huh? Come on, Beth, I wanted to get set up in the office.” I grabbed her arm and drug her up the steps, ignoring the look that passed between Sam and Dean.

As soon as we got inside, my jaw dropped. The first time I had ever been in the building, they were still trying to repair the roof, some of the wings weren’t even accessible to the public because of the asbestos, and the buildings out back were too dangerous to walk through. The owner had clearly put a lot of work into it since then; the walls were painted and the bottom floor was set up much like it would have been when it was open. “Wow,” I whispered as my eyes took in all the changes.

Beth grinned, “Right? They’re working on the third floor right now. I knew you’d love it. We’ve even got the medical building and the morgue open now. Still can’t go through the TB ward, but that’s just because of all the haunted house props. They’ve really done a great job.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked as he and Sam caught up, taking in my slack jawed appearance.

“Nothing, it just looks a lot different than the last time I was here.” I walked into the office and dropped my bag. “So, the third floor, huh? That could explain it.”

Sam leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, “Why does that explain it?”

I sat down behind the desk and logged into the computer, “Because the third floor is where the two patients murdered their roommate with the bed. It’s also where some of the most violent patients were kept, not to mention the shadow figures by the Nurses’ Station.” I looked up suddenly, and Beth raised an eyebrow. “Beth...is the ballroom on the list?”

She nodded, “Yep, they’re wanting to reopen it to the public again.”

I sighed, then clicked through the several video feeds that were pulled up in front of me, stopping on the ballroom. “There ya go. They’re remodeling, of course it’s disturbing all of them. To my knowledge no one died in there, but that whole floor...it could be almost anyone.”

Dean waved his hand, “Wait, wait, wait....reopen it to the public? There’s a ballroom on the third floor that was open to the public? Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Nope. They held school dances, plays, movies… At one point, it even housed the chapel. It was the biggest place to have town gatherings, so they used what they had,” I said with a shrug.

Dean looked at me as if shocked, “That’s crazy! They brought townspeople onto the floor with the most violent patients, like nothing bad could come of that?”

Beth shook her head, “Nothing ever happened, at least that we know of. It’s not a big town, Dean, and it was a long time ago. It’s not like they had a fancy community center, we don’t even have that now.”

“Okay, so getting back to the point, how are we supposed to figure out who’s responsible for this? Are any of these people actually buried on the property? Were they even buried? Do you even have any burial records?” Sam asked as he walked around to look at the computer screen while I flipped through different files.

“We have some records, but not all of it is online. We found some filing cabinets in the doctor's quarters, and I think we have some in the back here.” Beth smiled at Dean, “We could always split up, two of us look here, two of us look in the doctor’s quarters.”

Sam nodded, “Sounds good. Beth, why don’t we take the quarters, and Dean can help Y/N here?”

Beth looked at me sharply and raised her eyebrows, to which I replied with a shrug. “Sure. That’s fine.” I glanced at Dean, who had opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it when he saw the look on my face. I looked back at the computer and tried to pretend that Sam dismissing me didn’t hurt.

“Great. Beth, lead the way?” He motioned for her to go and Beth walked out ahead of him, giving me one last look over her shoulder. Dean let the two of them disappear around the corner before he turned back to me.

“What the hell was that about?”

I shrugged, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean put his hands on the edge of the desk and leaned over the computer, “Sam never gives up researching with you, not willingly. You guys have been weird all day, so I’ll ask again: what the hell was that?”

I shifted in my chair, unsure of how to answer him. We had been weird all day, ever since Bear Town, but I had no idea what had caused it. “I honestly don’t know, Dean. We were fine earlier today, we’ve been fine this whole trip, but then all of a sudden he didn’t want to talk to me.”

Dean walked around the desk and sat on the corner of it, his arms crossed across his chest, “All of a sudden? You can’t think of a single thing that may have happened today that would have made him act like that?”

I thought back to what we’d done that day, up until the moment we had been alone in the woods. “We talked a little while we waited on you to catch up, and how I was glad you guys were finally getting to see some of my favorite places.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, “That’s it? Other than making fun of me, which, screw you by the way, you didn’t talk about anything else?”

“No, I just mentioned how you guys were my new family and then...oh…” I looked up at Dean with wide eyes, “He might have been holding my hand at the time...and I may have said how both of you were my life. The hand holding didn’t last long after that.”

Dean dropped his head as he ran a hand across his eyes, “You’re clueless, you know that? Both of you are idiots. Okay, well, we don’t have time to worry about this right now, and I don’t have the coping skills to deal with it, so let’s just get this done, get home, and you two can sort your shit out later.” Dean moved towards the back of the office and opened the closet door, “I think I found those files. What do you want, computer or paper?”

“Computer, it’lI go faster. I don’t think there’s a lot on here, and I can come over and help you once I’m done with this.”

“Great.” Dean grabbed a chair and dragged it over to the closet, then yanked open the top drawer. “You owe me, Y/N. This isn’t exactly what I imagined when we decided to go on a road trip.”

I sighed, “Me neither.”

Sam strode quickly down the hall and towards the main staircase, and Beth ran to catch up.

“Hey, slow down there, Sasquatch. Your legs are as long as my entire body, and this girl isn’t as in shape as she used to be.”

Sam stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to face Beth, “Oh...sorry.”

Beth shook her head and continued up the stairs past Sam, “So, what’s your deal, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

She laughed as she hit the second floor landing and slid her hand up the worn banister, “So you normally just blow off Y/N like that?”

Sam cleared his throat, “I didn’t blow her off. We needed to split up to speed things up, so...that’s what we did.”

Beth rolled her eyes even though she knew Sam couldn’t see her, “No, see that’s where I think you’re full of shit. No offense, string bean, but I think we both know that there’s something else goin’ on.” They hit the fourth floor landing and she motioned for him to follow her. “Y/N didn’t say anything, of course she won’t because that’s how she is, but if you’re upset with her about something you should mention it to her.”

“I’m not upset about anything-” Beth had stopped in front of a closed door, but turned and put a hand on Sam’s chest.

“Listen, I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night. I can see how you look at her. So do us both a favor, and quit lyin’ to yourself and start thinking about what’s got you so upset.” She pulled a key ring out of her pocket and flipped through the keys, “So, what is it? What’s got you torn up?”

“Nothing. We had a conversation earlier today that didn’t go the way I thought it would. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“Right. Not a big deal, got it.” She slipped the key into the lock and the door creaked open. “So there aren’t any working lights up here, so we’re going to have to use the light from the windows.” She pulled the filing cabinet closer to the window and pulled open the top drawer. “I don’t know the guys’ names that we’re looking for, but look for patient’s records from the third floor, murder, you know the drill.” She began flipping through the folder and Sam knelt down and pulled open the bottom drawer to begin his search.

“You know, it’s funny...I’ve known Y/N my whole life, and I’ve never heard her talk about anyone the way she talks about you two.” Beth paused and Sam hummed in response. “She talks about one of you specifically, but she never says a name. See, she’s pretty private, so even someone she’s known her entire life has to pull that out of her. I get the impression he’s pretty special though.”

Sam paused as he flipped through a manila folder, “Huh.”

Beth pulled out a folder and sat on the edge of the nearby desk, “Whoever it is though...they should be proud of themselves. Even before the whole thing happened with her mom and Alex...she was pretty closed off. She never needed anyone. I think it had something to do with her dad dying. Alex took over a lot but Y/N really kept them all together. She just never...she was really independent, you know?”

Sam nodded and tossed the folder to the floor, then went back to flipping through the drawer, “I've noticed.”

Beth laid down her charts and crossed her arms as she watched Sam dig through the records. “What I'm saying is...whoever it is she's been talking to me about...she needs them. Honest to God, pretty sure she would go to the ends of the earth for this person kind of needs them.” Sam flipped his long hair out of his face and looked up at her, and Beth knew in an instant why Y/N had fallen for this one. “I just hope that the person in question understands how lucky they are to have Y/N, and her trust. That's all.”

“They know.” He smiled at her gently, then looked back down at the open file still in his hand. “Holy shit...I think I found something.”

Beth clapped, “Well, hallelujah, string bean! Why don't we get downstairs, see what your handsome devil of a brother has found, and get this damn show on the road?” She winked, but immediately jumped off the desk when a blood curdling shriek echoed through the halls. “What in the ever lovin’ hell was that?”

Sam stood quickly and took off for the door, “It sounded like Y/N.” Beth scrambled after him and the two raced downstairs, terrified of what they might find.

Read Chapter 5 HERE.

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