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softichill · 8 months

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The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 3 - The Theater of the Mind

(Once again made with @queen0fm0nsterz!!!)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

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[Click]

[Otto sighs, shifting]

OTTO: Noone vanished last night.

[Another sigh]

OTTO: As she slept, I was monitoring her ultradian sleep cycle. There was no REM/NREM oscillation; instead, involuntary spasms grew progressively worse. [shift] As I was about to wake Noone, her… body… evanesced. For a split instant- then returned, calm as can be.

OTTO: [deep breath, loud exhale] Lacking sleep, I can’t be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Yet the image of her sheets deflating… is imprinted upon my mind. [Sigh] After yesterday’s session, no less, when she claimed to hear this:

[Click, tape plays]

Recording of NOONE: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then, sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

[Click, tape stops]

OTTO: A coincidence? [light clinking of ceramic/glass] Or, synchronicity? …(Scoff) Is that that bloody moth again?!

[Loud smack, Otto sits back down]

OTTO: Riddle piles upon riddle, and answers continue to elude. [Tape rewinding] I’ll sift through every word if I must.

[Intro plays]

[Click]

[Loud clicking and clacking, electric humming, Otto screwing something in]

OTTO: [Humming drops, returns] It’s clear. Noone’s symptoms go beyond parasomnias. [Continuing to build] Her retellings are too detailed, vocabulary too advanced, as if derived from the oneiric itself.

[Humming raises in pitch, clicking]

OTTO: However, what I find impossible to believe is that Noone’s seen who you saw, Cici. [Chair creaks, clattering] If two people, without any contact, shared the exact same observation, is it proof of transpersonal dreaming?

[Otto’s building continues]

OTTO: But such implies concurrence! And these dreams are years apart! Then… no. [buzzing picks up] I cannot be taken to metaphysical backwaters. Sounding like my old professor. [building] I’ve remained balanced over the years by clinging to the notion that my recollection of what happened years ago was wrong. [click, humming gets loud again] But now, those memories are coming home to roost.

[Clicks, electronic humming, building stops]

OTTO: [Shift] Before I began at the CPI I promised to finish this apparatus. I let it fall away, convinced that attempting it was fool’s work. Now struggling to put myself in her shoes, well. Fool me twice.

[Humming gets louder, buzzes out completely as it shocks Otto and he lets out an “Oh!”]

[A small pained noise from Otto before he starts to put the apparatus away]

[Door opens]

OTTO: (Gasp) Noone! [Scoff, he walks away from the recorder] You’re meant to wait outside.

NOONE: (Far away) What are you working on?-

[Audio cuts]

[Click, blank noise]

[Audio starts again]

OTTO: We’ve come to know each other better over the past weeks, haven’t we?

NOONE: Because we’re friends! That’s why. And, friends tell each other things.

OTTO: Friends. That’s right. One of the absolutes I’ve come to realize is that, the more time you spend with someone, the harder it becomes to hide who you really are. The only exception to this rule is with the company of oneself- we willfully hide what we’d rather not face. Like, the Candleman you mentioned seeing, under hypnosis.

NOONE: I don’t like that.

OTTO: What?

NOONE: Hiding things from myself.

OTTO: Nobody likes it. That’s why it’s important to reveal your inner face. “Depth analysis”, we call it. And so, I’d like you to think of this session as a dialogue with your unconscious mind- you are asking the questions, not me.

NOONE: …Asking myself questions?

OTTO: I’ll help! But, as you go, I’d like you to try. So! This… Candleman. Did you see him again?

NOONE: I-I did.

OTTO: And what was this meeting like?

NOONE: …He was much clearer. Not just him, everything about it. My nightmare.

OTTO: Elaborate, please. Was it worse? More vivid?

NOONE: What’s it like- Uhm… as if I’m watching a film, that I’m also the star of. And when I woke… it was here, in the Coppy, that felt more like the dream.

OTTO: Hm, more palpable. The Candleman-

NOONE: I can’t talk about him without the rest. …If this is an interview with myself, might I begin where I want?

OTTO: Of course! Let your imagination run. But don’t be afraid to interact with the dream. This is an important step in our process- the dialogue. Bring together the divided parts of yourself.

NOONE: …The mirror.

OTTO: Pardon?

NOONE: The one off your shelf. If I’m meant to speak to myself, well…

OTTO: [Pause] …Patients aren’t meant to have mirrors, but, here you are, my bright girl.

[Otto gives her the mirror]

OTTO: Begin as you please.

[Pause]

NOONE, Narrating: …In the dark… a hand let go of mine.

[Slip noise, Dream!Noone gasps. Dream ambience begins.]

NOONE: Opening my eyes, I lay on hot concrete, staring up at a sky with- no sun. And… before me was, endless grey, broken by- yellow lines of paint, all the way to the horizon!

NOONE: Standing, in that carpark, I heard a silence. So silent, my own heartbeat was a marching drum in comparison. …It was followed by… a loneliness, so lonely, I could hardly bear it. I had to turn away.

[Dream!Noone walking on gravel]

NOONE: Behind me, I was glad to see a building! A shopping mall, so large I- I felt half my normal size. Its doors opened, [sliding gravel] and I ran to them.

[running footsteps, transition from gravel to tile. Doors close behind Dream!Noone.]

NOONE: Inside the promenade, [lights click on] the lights flicked on, one by one, greeting me as the PA speakers came alive with music.

[Tinny, slightly off-sounding mall music]

NOONE: It had been ages since I’d visited a shopping center. I didn’t know where to start!

OTTO: You saw no need to find an exit right away?

NOONE: I felt like I was in good hands. But many shops were closed, though. There were no doors, and… no displays in the windows. Or, there must have been a private entrance, because- I could see shadows beyond the glass.

NOONE: …A-after passing by several shops this way, I grew disappointed, but that’s when… a cowboy’s voice came over the speaker.

COWBOY, slightly overlapped with Noone: “Sale at Jujube’s Toys! Dolls, games, puzzles, and more! Ground floor by the fountain!”

NOONE: I could see that fountain in front of me! And on the other side, was… a bright green storefront, with bubbles floating out the entrance.

[Dream!Noone walking over, doors hiss as they open. Different tinny music.]

NOONE: Shelves and- shelves of wonders lined the shop! The toys on the first shelf were very old, but… deeper shelves held the same toys I had back home, and deeper ones held exactly those I’d wish for, even Little Lotty Potty! But… these Lotties had black eyes, not blue. And their skin was… yellow, like autumn leaves.

NOONE: The shop owner wasn’t present, so… I grabbed one and began playing on the carpet.

[Dream!Noone humming Six’s Theme. Doll makes automated noises.]

NOONE: But, it didn’t take long for me to grow… bored. That was the first time I… I felt too old for dolls.

OTTO: (distant-sounding) Maturity is natural as you approach adolescence. The brain loses interest in things once held dear.

NOONE: The idea of growing up made me sad. And as if reacting… Lotty’s dress became wet. The doll was doing as its name said, but… [doll chattering] the liquid was- dark and thick. I put her down to find something else. But the choices were almost too many! Towering shelves extending deep in- the gloom of the impossibly long shop!

NOONE: I settled on the games section, but, most were meant for two. Suddenly, a staticky whisper said,

Voice, overlapping with NOONE: “I’ll play with you.”

NOONE: I-I thought it was the shopkeeper, but… nobody was around. My eyes fell upon a jewelry-making kit, with a red necklace on the cover. I took the box back to where I left Lotty, only… she was gone. The shelf above, where the other dolls had been, was completely empty too. I wanted to make the jewelry, I really did, but… I felt weird, so… I put it down. Then, the PA crackled, a woman’s voice this time:

Voice, ov. NOONE: “Jujube’s Toys is now closing.”

NOONE: [Lights clicking off] The lights shut off, bubbles stopped… and, the last thing I saw before exiting… [toy train noises] was the train set crashing to a stop. [quiet fake bell ringing, toy engine stops]

[Dream!Noone walking out of the store]

NOONE: The promenade was empty, still. Each step [steps become echoey] echoed across the walls and floors, which were- pearl white, and had patterns like… veins.

[steps and music continues]

NOONE: I came to three sets of stairs, side-by-side, leading to the next floor. I chose one, and, reaching to the top, I saw another open shop. Mademoiselle’s… (saying it wrong) bijottery.

OTTO: (still distant) Bijouterie. But, regardless- you could read this?

NOONE: Yes. The letters were quite big.

OTTO: …Have you been able to read in your dreams before?

NOONE: I’m not sure. That’s not a question I would ask myself, though, Otto.

OTTO: Apologies.

NOONE, Narrating: The glass case in the center of the room… pulled me in. Full of… gold, and silver necklaces. Hanging in the middle, was… an enchanting red pendant. And before you ask, yes, it was just like on the box at the toy store. T-The PA came on again,

Voice, ov. with NOONE: “A free gift to all little girls 10 and under!”

NOONE: Without asking, I put the necklace on, glowing, like a ruby teardrop. With my gift, I set to leave, but… someone must’ve left the speaker on because… I heard arguing.

NOONE: (overlapping) “Don’t overdo it!” Said a first voice, followed by a second, (overlapping) “One more prize can’t hurt!”

[something being set down, wheels across tile, whoosh]

NOONE: From the back room, a rack of dresses rolled out. All, exactly my size.

[Dream!Noone looking through the dresses]

NOONE: It’d been ages since I’d been allowed to pick out my own dress. The telly people chose them for me. These ones were very pretty, with lace and, and bows and stitching but, one… it… it was the plaid dress I wore the day I arrived at the Coppy. How could my dress be here? [lowering pitch of voice, asking questions to herself] Your real life doesn’t have to mix into your dreams Noone, why now?

OTTO, interrupting narration: (astonished) Pardon?

NOONE: (giggling) I’m asking myself questions. Well, the only explanation is that they could see inside my head.

OTTO: I’m not sure that’s logical.

NOONE: Let me finish! Please. You’ll see.

NOONE, narrating: Back out on the promenade, the shop gates began to slam shut. [Gates slamming] I was worried the mall was closing, but on the floor above, a set of spinning bright lights came on [Lights turn on]. The music stopped and, the PA crackled with a sing-songy voice,

Voice, ov. with NOONE: [music] “Showtime’s patrons! Our daily motion picture will begin shortly. Hot popcorn’s popping and the seats await in the playhouse!”

NOONE: [Lights shutting off] The rest of the mall went dark, making the lights more enticing to follow.

[Dream!Noone walks across the mall]

NOONE: The lobby was- red from floor to ceiling. Buckets of popcorn overflowed on the concession stand. I grabbed one, and hurried to push open the huge golden doors leading into the theater.

[Running steps, doors creak. Slightly off organ music plays.]

NOONE: The velvet seats went for rows and rows, full of people. A spotlight hit the stage, illuminating an organ, but… there was no organ player. Only tall curtains swaying in some breeze. I tiptoed down the aisle, and sat centered with the screen. The chair seemed to hug me, and the room fell dark [crunching] as the first buttery bit hit my tongue.

[Music stops playing, sounds of projector booting up]

NOONE: Without adverts or introduction, the film began. Images of… trees on fire and… white hooves galloping. I recognized the picture instantly because I’ve seen it a hundred times. “The Healing Horn”. [Movie plays] Only the scenes were out of order, and the unicorn… her horn was misshapen, like… a rotten tree branch. The evil prince’s face, too, was… was wrong.

NOONE: Feeling out of place I – I looked around. The audience, I… I realized, was not people but… mannequins.

NOONE: All of a sudden, a familiar scent entered the dream. Ocean. I was no longer alone. The dusty projector light made it difficult to suss, but a few seats over… was the Candleman. His eyes and mouth were… deep black pits inside a mess like a wet gunny sack, sagging down the floor. Without turning, he spoke.

[Growing noise stops]

OTTO, interrupting abruptly: He – what?! [Shifting] What did he say?

NOONE: [Sighing] It was like a – a voice underwater. The words could hardly escape the folds of skin. He repeated them to me.

NOONE as the FERRYMAN, glitching: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

OTTO: And then? [shifting in the chair] What else?

NOONE, as the FERRYMAN: “Here. Here. Here.”

NOONE: He just repeated over and over.

OTTO: There must be more! Try, try! Interact with the dream!

NOONE: There was no more!

OTTO: (raising his voice) Ask who he is, ask what he wants!

NOONE: (raising her voice) It doesn’t work that way!

OTTO: You were right there! Don’t tell me you did nothing?! Not a damn thing!

NOONE: Stop!

OTTO: [farther away] I’m beginning to doubt you’ve seen this Candleman! [Noone struggling] Perhaps you’ve invented the whole story!

NOONE: Please, stop- my head!

[Otto hisses (gets hit?), sounds of something being knocked over, Noone runs out of the room.]

[Otto huffs and stops the tape]

[Click. Blank noise. Another click]

[Various shifting noises. Silence. Door opens and someone walks, then closes it]

OTTO: [far away, stern] What are you doing? With the mirror. [Steps] You’re up to something, but we’ll let it slide. I know girls like you.

[Shifting]

OTTO: You’re upset with me, aren’t you? [plastic clacking] Here. A pill for your headache. (Sigh) Earlier, that was… awfully…[Otto sits] that- that was not how friends act. Sleep has evaded me too. I’ve grown worried, trying to… please, forgive me. I’d very much like to hear the rest. I won’t interrupt, you have my word.

[Silence.]

NOONE: … Fine.

OTTO: So… you were in this theater with him.

NOONE, narrating: … All kinds of pictured* flashed on the screen, and then he was gone, leaving me alone again. Or so I thought. The projector flickered in the booth. I dashed up, and found the door ajar. A new voice came over the PA, angry. “No patrons in the projection room!” The door was stuck, but I pushed and pushed. The PA boomed,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “You must not enter!”

[Crashing, door opens]

NOONE: The projector I saw first was shaped like… a deformed eye. Then, my attention fell to… the mass on the floor. [Slimy sound] A brain? A heart? …No. It’s muscles pumped and pumped, and its tubes ran into the walls. The voice came, both from inside the room and over the PA:

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Happy day, No One.”

NOONE: It… it knew my real nickname. The ones kids at school scribbled all over my books. How? Because it was in my head. …I asked, “You’re the one who’s been talking? All those voices?”. Then, I saw countless film cans around the room, and understood. It was so alone, it took to imitating. Then it said,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Are you going to leave? Like all the others?”

NOONE: I managed a… “Yes”. The thing began pulsing and, upset, it sort of cried out.

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “So many, they take what they want and go, or get snatched away or worse!”

NOONE: It paused, then went on,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Whatever you desire, it’s yours.”

NOONE: … But I didn’t want anything from it. The PA belted,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “The pendant! You wanted that!”

NOONE: The pulsing worsened until another voice came within the first,

VOICE 2, ov. with NOONE: “You’ve driven another away!” [Not overlapping, repeating: “You’ve driven another away!]

NOONE: I felt bad for it. Or them… this place had been warped by pain, and wanted so badly to keep me. Even the walls began throbbing. What could I do?!

[Noise intensifies, Dream!Noone breathes heavily]

NOONE: I – I ran. Down the stairs, out of the theater.

[Dream!Noone runs away]

NOONE: On the promenade, the lights were flashing so as to be dizzying. The PA screeched,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Everyone needs someone! Don’t leave me alone!”

NOONE: The walls began to cry that dark thick liquid, pooling around me, I looked up. From the floor above, the Candleman stared, pointing at my chest. At the pendant. I flung it down into the liquid, then he reached a hand toward me and –

[All noise stops]

NOONE: And all faded, as the PA sobbed,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Don’t take her! Not this one, too…”

[Narration stops. Silence. Shifting]

OTTO: T-There was um… uh, e-excuse me, a curious phrase. “Warped by pain”. Is that how you feel, sometimes?

[Silence]

OTTO: Noone? Are you still angry with me? Or… distracted by the mirror?

NOONE: Behind my ear… there’s… a sore.

OTTO: Is that why you wanted the mirror all along?

NOONE: [Hum] It’s like the ones I used to get. I need to see it.

[Shifting]

OTTO: Nothing’s there. It’s red because you’ve been picking at it.

NOONE: …I have one more question for myself. Why do I have these dreams? Water sickness, that’s my answer.

OTTO: Noone. It’s wiped out of your system. There have been no known reinfections. It’s in your mind.

NOONE: (with increasing distress) What if the cure is the cause? I never had nightmares or headaches before all of this, before going on telly, before – before this! –

OTTO, interrupting: (whispering) No, no, come, come, come, come here, my girl. [Shifting, Otto hugs Noone] You’re not sick. You’re perfectly fine. You’re a perfectly wonderful little girl. This time I will protect you.

[The mirror falls on the ground and breaks]

NOONE: I’m sorry! I’m sorry, uh, you were squeezing so tight and… it slipped.

[The mirror shards are picked up. Otto throws them away]

OTTO: You asked why you dream. The truth? Nobody knows. My studies always assumed they were more than the brain’s way of filtering unconscious thoughts. But I had no answer either. An old professor of mine thought he did. He believed dreams come from an ever shifting plane, a quiddity of consciousness.

NOONE: Quidd-i-ty…

OTTO: Quiddity. The essence of a thing. In this case, a semiatangible plane outside the mind.

NOONE: Is it the same as mutual dreams? I don’t understand.

OTTO: My colleagues didn’t either. I’ve flip-flopped over the years, but I figured it was impossible to prove.

NOONE: Will I ever get rid of them, then? Will I ever leave the Coppy?

OTTO: You must understand, you are a unique case. I want to let you go, as soon as –

NOONE, interrupting: I’m better?

OTTO: (sighing) Yes. As soon as you’re better. [Otto stands, picks something up] Now –

NOONE: I know, I know. (Lower pitch, mimicking Otto) “Sweets for my sweet”. …Do I have to go back to my room?

[Sounds of plates]

OTTO: I’ve- got to tidy, [wrappers] and, you reminded me there’s something I need to find. On you go. I’ll come by later.

[Shift, audio cuts]

[Audio starts]

[Otto looks through papers, and sighs]

OTTO: Ah, I found it. The paper that stained my professor’s career. Kept it all these years, hoping and dreading there was truth in these words…

OTTO, reading: “We know now that there is no center to the universe. Previously we thought it was the Sun, before that we thought it was the Earth. Our species always insists that ours is the quintessence of experience. Yet scientific observation proves our folly ad nauseum. If geocentrism took centuries to disprove, the question is not if but when the same will happen to reality itself. That which we are equipped to perceive may not be the only world. Let alone the predominant one.”

[Click]

[Outro plays]

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*This is what she actually says. I have no idea why.

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 16 days

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Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

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freshbakedbreadstick · 9 months

Text

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Four

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: Old habits (of fleeing) die hard unless, of course, you're forced to face things rather than running from them.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, Al-Anon, addiction, interventions.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Hi besties ! ! ! ! As promised, here’s the next chapter for you all, earlier than planned as a sorry for taking so long ! Life is getting hectic and I'm currently preparing to move into my dorm for this coming school year, hence why I couldn't update with the last chapter earlier . I transferred to a different university than the one I was originally going to so a lot of things are new to me again, but I'm still excited ! ! ! Anyways, get your happy puppy and kitty pictures to look at after this chapter and i hope you all have a wonderful day and wonderful read <3

EDIT: Changed the name used for an added side character to avoid confusion with the name of a character from the show, sorry to those who are named Amanda as that's the name i used as a replacement (:

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic

Chapter Three / Masterlist / Chapter Five

Your fingers shook around the steering wheel as you pressed on the accelerator harder, making the engine of your old car rumble louder in your ears. It wasn’t loud enough to drown the loud and rapid heartbeat in your ears though.

Luckily for you, it was green light after green light.

You raced home, expecting to come home to a silent house with nobody there to try and talk you out of your decision. After all, it was a weekday and it was past noon, almost everyone in Chicago was either working or in school.

“Pack then leave, pack then leave, pack then leave…” you mumbled to yourself, eyes darting back and forth as you switched lanes to weave in and out of traffic. You were met with angry yells and annoyed honks as you did so, but it didn’t matter to you. You needed to get home.

Your stuff was shoved in the back seat, half spilled from both you throwing it inside and your reckless driving. After you had the argument with everyone at The Beef, you stormed inside to silently grab your things from your locker and go. Neither Richie, Carmy, nor Sugar said a word to you as you did so, but Tina was the first to call out your name and try to calm you down. She had definitely heard everything that went down outside, those walls were absolutely not sound proof.

“What the fuck does Carmy know anyways. He’s the one who refused to come back or even reach out at all when Mikey… fucking hypocrite,” You mumbled to yourself, eyes narrowing and your hand gripping the steering wheel until your fingers hurt.

Tina, however, anxiously worked at her station, half glancing over to you and half working on her task in the kitchen. You knew that she was split between wanting to reach out to you and wanting to keep going with her work, but you would never make her or anyone else choose, so you chose for her by ignoring her and leaving.

She and everyone else are better off without you anyways.

The tires of your car screeched as you swerved into the empty driveway.

“Fuck yes…” you whispered to yourself, skin sweaty as you shoved yourself out of your car. No cars in the driveway means an empty house. You were in the clear.

As you approached the front door, house keys already in hand, you mumbled out plans to yourself, “Maybe Florida? It’s probably rainy and humid this time of year but if it means getting away from here, I can deal with it…”

The front door swung open before you could finish unlocking it, making you jump and gasp out as you came face to face with your mom.

“Sweetie? Are you okay? What’s going on? Why do you look ill?” You mom rushed out, eyes wide and confused.

“I'm fine Mom but I have to go.” You rushed out, pushing past her to run to the stairs. Your mom let out an unintelligible string of words as you started running to your room, heart pounding as it seemed like your once “foolproof” plan was starting to unravel.

“Fucking fuck fuck fuck shit!” You mumbled to yourself, spitting out the words harshly as you barged into your room and began pushing things into the boxes and bags you hadn’t yet unpacked.

In your rush to pack, you didn’t hear your mom’s footsteps getting closer nor did you hear what she was saying.

"Honey, how about you slow down for a second and take a deep breath?" She said, sounding exasperated as she pushed herself over the threshold and into your room.

"Not now mom," You replied, hissing for a brief second as you cut your finger on a sharp edge of a box before continuing to pack.

"Seriously, I think you should stop for a second and then we can do whatever it is that you want to do, okay?"

This made you pause.

"...what?" You blinked, slowly turning to your Mom.

She smiled at you, but the corners of her eyes didn't crinkle as she did so. You scanned her body, noticing the way her body language indicated that she was fully open and not at all anxious.

You opened your mouth briefly, before shutting it and complying with her ask. You breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7 seconds, and let it go for 8 seconds. In front of you, your Mom beamed at you, but again you noticed how her eyes never once left yours and how they didn't crinkle at the corners like they usually did.

"Let me help you pack, okay?" She said, voice calm.

You watched as she moved forward and grabbed a box already full of your stuff before grabbing a smaller box. You continued to watch and followed her as she went down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door to your car.

As she placed the box in the car, you turned and bolted. Your feet thumped loudly as you went back up the stairs and you felt your shirt cling onto your sweaty skin. Something was up, you just knew it, and you needed to find out what it was before it was too late.

But in this moment, the memory of your conversation at The Beef earlier replayed in your head for the 6th time that hour, and your panic settled in once again.

With two boxes in hand, you started to leave your room to go to the front door, passing your mom who didn't so much as glance at you. Your eyes followed her frame, noting no change in her calm demeanor.

It frightened you immensely.

The pit in your stomach gnawed at you as you placed the boxes in the trunk, making you feel like you were going to throw up and pass out at the same time. When you left Mikey's funeral in a rush, your parents followed you. You had insisted on going in separate cars, convincing them that being alone in your car would help you prepare yourself before you went into the funeral home. But they still followed you in their own car, practically tailgating you as you ran through red lights to get home.

You let out a shaky breath, remembering the way your mother sobbed and tried convincing you not to leave as you packed your car with the few things you were willing to take. Your father tried reasoning with you, eyes filled with tears and voice shaky but stern as he pleaded you to think your decision through. They tried everything, from promising you a vacation to get your mind off everything to threatening you with involuntary inpatient services. But nothing worked, so all they could do was run down the block, following your car as you took off, determined to seek refuge out West.

Your mom walked around you, placing more boxes in the car with a loud clunk, taking you out of your thoughts. Your head whipped around to see her organizing your boxes.

"There's a couple more things up in your room but I wasn't sure if you wanted to take them." She said, a small smile appearing on her face as she looked over her shoulder at you.

Your eyebrows creased and your chest heaved, feeling disturbed by her overall calm attitude to this situation. She was not at all acting like the way she did the first time, which felt odd considering that you were planning on doing the same exact thing as you did before. You would even dare say that you felt like she was happy you were leaving.

"Uhm… okay," and with that you took a couple careful steps back to watch her before turning to go back inside.

'What the fuck is going on?!' You thought to yourself, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to chew on it as you went up the stairs.

Sure enough, there were some things left in your room aside from the boxes labeled 'The Beef' that you were certainly not going to take. But before you could decide, the sinking feeling hit you.

Why was your mom home? She should've been at work at this time. While she did take time off to spend with you when you first came home, she had already returned to work a couple days ago. Why did she not continue to question why you were home? You did leave a message explaining where you were before you left so she knew that and she also knew that you planned to stay at The Beef the whole day, so she would probably be confused as to why you came home early and in a rush. Additionally, she seemed okay with your decision to leave which was nothing like her previous attitude. And why the hell was she so calm?!

Then, it clicked.

Your throat dried up.

Someone must have told her and now she is planning something.

You raced down the stairs, hands clammy as you gripped onto the stair railing to launch yourself forward. The only person you knew that would have her number and would be willing to reach out to her about something like this was Sugar. Your legs buckled as you rushed out front, only to see your Mom calmly waiting for you.

"Oh honey, don't forget your wallet and charger-" She said, perking up when she saw you.

"What are you planning?" You blurted out, interrupting her.

Your mom furrowed her brows and tilted her head, "What do you mean?"

"Why are you letting me go? You're not screaming or yelling and just letting me do this?"

You mom blinked at you, unmoving. It was eerie to see her not react to what you were saying.

After some silence, your mom spoke up, "You're an adult and I respect every decision you will make, regardless if I agree with it or not."

Your eyes narrowed. Although this didn't seem very far off when it came to the parenting philosophy they raised you with, something about this still made you feel alarmed.

"How about we stop for ice cream at that creamery we love before you go?"

There's the catch.

You visibly tensed your body, "Okay…"

Something was going to happen to you once you got there, you just knew it, but you were going to make a plan and get the hell out of there.

With a smile, your mom walked to the passenger's seat of the car, "Go lock up for me, okay? I have my purse in the car already."

You nodded slowly, jaw locked as you took small steps to the front door. When you finally sat down in the driver's seat, your mom was humming to herself and messing with her hair in the mirror.

"You're planning something," you announced again, half mumbling.

Your mom briefly stopped humming to chuckle and shake her head before continuing, seemingly unphased by the way you accused her. But this nagging feeling would not go away, so you did all you could do in that moment: drive.

You sat on the bench outside of the small old creamery, leg bouncing rapidly. You've been going there with your parents since you were a kid, something that you also included Mikey, Carmy, Richie, and Natalie in when they could join you. You would sometimes sneak away after school together or go after football games, right before it would close at midnight. And here you were, one last time, before you would go to… Florida.

The sweet cream of the ice cream cone you had in your hand made you hum as you licked it, the flavor exploding over your tongue. It was delectable, after all you got your favorite flavor.

You were going to miss it.

You mom walked over to the table you sat on, holding her own cup of butterscotch ice cream, before sitting down to join you. The sun was warm and the sky was a bright blue. The overall happy atmosphere of the day didn't seem to quell whatsoever.

You eyed her carefully for a second but only saw her indulging in her own ice cream. So you looked away and started to plan your trip to… Florida.

You decided that first, you would drop your mom off at home and tell her what you wanted to say to dad. Then, you would drive to the nearest gas station and fuel up on both gasoline and snacks, maybe get a slurpee from 7/11, and start driving towards St. Louis. You could sleep in your car for the night at a Walmart and then drive to Atlanta the next day. After that, just head straight to Florida, home free!

Your mom cleared your throat to get your attention, making you whip your head around to face her.

"Oh sweetie, do you mind if I go next door? We got a new tax guy and his office is just next door. I need to drop off some papers so that he can finish prepping our file." As if like magic, your mom pulled out some stapled papers from her purse.

"When did we get a new tax guy?"

"Last month, your father wanted to change from using H&R Block because of all the problems we had with them last year so we found this new guy."

You glanced at her, finding her eating her ice cream and looking at you; not a concern or worry was written on her face. Her story did seem to add up, your parents did complain about their tax people so this didn’t seem suspicious. So you, cautiously, nodded.

She got up and began to walk down the sidewalk, "You can join me if you would like."

You pursed your lips and took the risk, "Uh… sure."

The request seemed simple and innocent enough, making your anxiety ease for a second. She might have not gone to work because she had errands to do and the paperwork she held under her arm seemed legit. And as you walked into the building and headed towards the office at the end of the hall, everything actually seemed okay. Maybe she did respect your decision and just wanted to spend some time with you before you left.

"Give me a second," Your mom said, pausing.

You crashed into her back, heart racing again as she stopped. But all she did was hand you the papers and turn to walk over to the trash can.

"Give me your trash," she said, reaching out for you to give her your dirty napkins.

Complying, you watched her throw the trash away before walking back to you, nodding for you to walk through the door in front of you.

Inside was a large, empty office. It was bright with the grayish white walls and unfinished concrete floors projecting the light from the large windows everywhere. It made you squint as you moved blindly forward.

The door behind you clicked at the same time that you blinked, eyes adjusting. There was a small circle of chairs in front of you, some occupied by a few people while others were empty. A couple people were hanging out by what looked to be a snack table and another person was standing by someone, chatting. But when you came in, they all paused to turn to you.

This was what she was planning.

Someone in a cardigan and with a gentle smile began approaching you and beside you your mom began to speak, "Sweetie, this is for the best…"

But her voice faded from your mind as your heavy breaths and fast heartbeat overwhelmed you. You whipped around, stumbling from the speed in which you did so, and crashed into the chest of a tall person who was blocking the door.

You heaved a breath.

Behind you, the person in the cardigan spoke, "Hi, I understand this might be confusing and overwhelming but your mom brought you here because she cares about you and your well being. My name is Amanda and I'm more than happy to answer all your questions."

"What the fuck is this? Is this an intervention? What am I doing here? Why am I here? Mom, why did you take me here?" You rushed out, feeling the room spin and your body get cold as you quickly glanced around the room.

In an instant, the calm neutral face your mom had fell into one of concern, with her eyes glossy and eyebrows pressed together, "This is an Al-Anon meeting sweetheart and it's for the best, okay? Just one meeting and then we can go home, alright?"

Your legs gave out on you. As you collapsed onto the floor, your vision blurred but you could make out the way your mom screamed and rushed forward to grab you. Amanda looked concerned but concentrated, as if she knew exactly what to do, when she got down onto her knees to help you. You could also feel some heavy hands grab onto your shoulders behind you as your vision faded to black.

When you regained consciousness, you felt the wind gently caress your cheeks as it blew by. It felt nice, not feeling sweaty and flushed. But as you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself leaning on your mom, half laid on a bench, outside a building you had no idea about.

“Hey honey, are you feeling ok?” Your mom said, instantly hugging you against her body as she noticed you beginning to stir.

“Yea… yea… I'm fine,” you said, your words coming out slurred as you brought yourself up to sit.

“How are you feeling?” A voice said, behind you and your mom.

Everything came rushing back as you recognized this voice as Amanda’s voice.

You stumbled up, making your mom gasp and jump up from her seat. Amanda placed a hand on your mom’s forearm, gently smiling at her.

“What do you want from me?!” you yelled, feeling anger seep into your skin as soon as you got up and faced her.

Amanda looked at you, “We are not here to hurt you, take you away, or anything. Your mom brought you here to give you a safe space to talk about Mikey.”

“I don’t need to talk about SHIT!” You heaved, making your mom look away from her, desperately trying to conceal her own anger.

“We care about you and we believe that you should try this out, just once. You are free to leave if you don’t want to, okay?” Amanda continued, voice soft.

It made your blood boil.

With fists clenched, you glared at your mom, “You did all of this, just to trick me into coming here?”

Your mom continued to look away, refusing to look at you. You seethed.

“You can’t even look at me or respond to me?”

Amanda shook her head, “I understand your feeling upset and confused right now, considering how your mom brought you here, but your mom only has the best intentions for you in mind. Please, come inside. You don’t have to share anything with the group or even sit with the group. You can stand in the back with your mom and share whenever you would like.”

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms.

Softly, your mom said your name, “I never expected myself to be a perfect mom, but was willing to die trying just for you. Both your father and I made a pact to do everything we could in order to make sure you had the best life you could live. As you got older and became your own person, it was hard to watch you make mistakes but we knew when to step in and guide you, and when to step back,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before continuing, “And watching you be with Mikey, to be happy, was a joy in the beginning… until we saw the cracks forming in your relationship. We did everything we could to help you but nothing worked. I understand you loved him… but sweetie… his addiction hurt you too.”

“Mikey never hurt me!!” you yelled, not even feeling the tears rushing out, “He never once laid a hand on me! He never brought me around that stuff! He never wanted me to suffer!”

“He was unstable!” your mom sobbed, doubling over as the dam of emotions broke for her.

Amanda gently gripped her arms, holding her up. She stared at you with a pained but apologetic expression.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone to addiction. I lost my father when I was 16. I was such a daddy’s girl growing up, so losing him was bad but discovering why I lost him only hours after I did made it worse,” Amanda said, filling the air with something other than cries and sobs.

You stifled your cries, making them come out as jagged breaths and rough sniffs that made your throat tighten. But you stood your ground, standing tall as your mom tried so hard not to collapse to the ground.

“You’re not… you're not coping well. I don’t want to lose you too.” your mom managed to get out between sobs, voice small and watery.

A sob escaped, shaking your body and making you stumble.

“You’re not going to lose me, I swear. I’m okay. I just… I just need some time.”

#the bear #reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy the bear #michael berzatto x reader #mikey berzatto #mikey berzatto imagine #mikey the bear #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto x reader #reader insert #richie berzatto imagine #richie jerimovich x reader #richie the bear #natalie berzatto #sugar berzatto

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neragufetta · 3 months

Text

A randomly updated list of plot elements and theories that run wild in my head

The following is a list of BNHA plot elements, in no specific order, that are still unresolved at current chapter (or, at least, that I consider unresolved).

This post is totally open to suggestion :D

I plan to update it whenever I feel ;)

Enjoy!

PS - I finally found a title for this little product of mine, yay :)

***

Current last chapter:

413

HIGH PRIORITY:

1. How did Shigaraki solve to put Star and Stripe's quirk "New Order" under control? > Solved in vol. 34: New Order dissolved on itself but it caused Tenko to regain some level of consciousness > And in chapter 413 S&S's embers in AFO were able to reach both All Might itself and Yagi's vestige to let them know about the only weakness existing in Shigaraki, and I LOVE this turn of events.

2. Why did AFO do all of this? What are his reasons and origin? > We got his reasons in chapters 407-408 but I'm not totally convinced that he chose an apprentice just for the sake of having a new body

3. Will Deku be able to reach Tenko?

4. Who is going to survive? At the moment I think these are the name at risk right now:

. Bakugo > confirmed alive in 403 . All Might > still alive in 404, confirmed alive in 405 . Toga . Dabi . Hawks . Endevour . Edgeshot > still alive in 405 . Fat Gum

6. What is Ojiro's, Sato's and Sero's whereabout?

7. What is Eraserhead, Present Mic and Kurogiri's whereabout?

...

OPTIONAL STUFF

1. How was it possible for Yoichi to pass OFA to the second user? (i.e. how did he realize that he could pass his quirk?) > I'm not crossing this one out for we still don't have an explanation from Yoichi's perspective; however in chapter 408 is suggested that it happened the day Yoichi died and Kudoh has felt off ever since. I want to add that we don't know of any organic exchange from Yoichi to Kudoh, my opinion about it below.

2. Is Deku's father ever going to make an appearance? I know, I know that, aat this late point in the story, he can only be either AFO himself or noone interesting, but still, why did Horikoshi mentioned that Izuku's father would appear at some point in the story? Did he change his mind?

3. Is this picture ever going to make sense?

64.media.tumblr.com

For further explanation, this seems to be a partial picture that was present at a BNHA exposition in Japan but, to my knowledge, does not have an explanation. > The full art, however, showed Aoyama, so it might be a hint about Aoyama's role? I'm not convinced and therefore I'm keeping this point active.

4. Why AFO needed Shigaraki's hatred? (Rif. chapter 311. For further explenation see section "Open theories", n. 3) > In chapter 410 it seems that Shigaraki is now able to steal, if not the whole OFA, at least singular quirks in it but it stays unexplained how or why.

5. Are we going to see Deku and Bakugo face each other one last time?

...

OPEN THEORIES (that I enjoy or consider interesting for some reason)

1. Dad for one (alias All for one is actually Deku's father) > With the flashback we had in chapter 407-408, it seems to me that, even though it is possible that AFO had intercourse with women, I just can't see him actually marry someone, and Inko mentioned her "husband" while discussing Izuku's lack of quirk; however, it is still possible that she called him that way just for the sake of appearences or that they actually married for some reason. I don't know, I really don't like this theory but I understand the appeal of it.

2. Decay is not Shimura Tenko's original quirk > Again, AFO's death in 410 might cross this one out but I'm still suspicious about the man in 235 that brought Tenko back home.

3. Shigaraki can actually take One for All quirk without Deku's will > confirmed in chapter 410, even though we still don't know how or why.

4. Deku is suppressing his emotions > Pikahlua wrote an amazing perfect explanation about this theory and I'm convinced they're right.

5. Two for one (alias One for all is passed on both Izuku & Katsuki) (404) > I think we can call this one discarded.

6. AFO is (related to) the Luminescent baby (405) > Confirmed in 407 and even though I said I was not a fan of this one, AFO stealing his quirk out of crave makes much more sense than and I love it.

7. Izuku will replace OFA with:

7b. New Order (412) and it has to do with Star & Stripe arm > New Order is confirmed destroyed in chapter 413

7c. Nothing, he'll go quirkless again. (This is the only one I actually like) 7c-i. But his use of OFA has already created a vestige in OFA and Kudoh is planning to let Shigaraki steal OFA in order to gain access to Tenko's memory and finally start to connect with is soul and therefore to save him. > partly confirmed in 413, the only difference being that Kudoh actually plans to smash Shigaraki with OFA. 7c-ii. But, following the empty glass/full glass theory, Shigaraki won't be able to keep it for too long, without facing problem (like the 4th dying of old age at 40). >

8.OFA only transfer out of will, while hair or any other organic material just served to picture the passage in one's mind. I decided to delete the whole reasoning behind this idea but you can still read it in my chapter 412 update.

8a. As an alternative possible explanation, since OFA started stocking extrapower and multiple quirks, even though at the beginning a physical transfer was not required, it eventually became mandatory. (Like, email can only have attachment up to N Mb, in order to transfer bigger file you need a physical drive).

Bye!

#mha theories #bnha theories #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha #mha #mha 413 #bnha 413

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iironwreath · 1 month

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oc weapon names

ada: wolfram (pistol), mike (rifle) wolfram is another name for tungsten or its ore, which (iirc) is used in making bullets. if asked why her big gun is named mike, she says it's short for micycle

azul: silverthorn (longsword) used with a shield, azul named her longsword in honour of the deity that saved her from lolth's influence, the arch heart. silver is one of corellon's colours and azul associates them with deep, dangerous, but beautiful forests of the arborea

cadiana: judgement (maul) gifted by elspeth, taken from the dead blue dracolich judge moravax, former master of law for emon. cady is a paladin of erathis the lawbearer and sees fit to dole out judgement in her name. they thought moravax saw fair judgement for allying with the cult of tiamat as a leader after being a false worshiper of erathis. cady enjoys the irony

cihro: venenum (shortbow) (pronounced ve-NEE-num) one of my dms chose this and came up with its history, but it's latin for venom. this was either a vestige of divergence that became dormant and then awakened again by cihro, or was a plain shortbow transformed into a vestige. it originally belonged to an elven assassin and he acquired it from the dissolved remains of his partner's drider mother. its saying is “If your heart is true, then so will be your aim”

crow: bleeding heart (longsword) crow's hexblade and pacted weapon. named for multiple meanings, since crow's virtue name also has layers. the bleeding heart is a flower also known as dicentra, her lover's name and the woman she forged her blade and pact with. bleeding heart can also describe "sincere emotional outpouring." the sword is wholly symbolic of her heart and devotion and desires. also, she stabs people and then they bleed!

genevieve: anathema (battleaxe) while evie mostly utilizes her claws and hemomancy in combat, she will occasionally use her blood maledict on other weapons. anathema is a word for "something or someone that one vehemently dislikes" or "a formal curse by a pope or a council of the church, excommunicating a person." originally named because she saw herself as anathema to the monsters she hunted for the slayer's take, its meaning transformed when she became a lycanthrope

iona: analemma (longbow), salt in the wound (rapier), paprika (dagger) analemma is named for "a graph or plot in the shape of a figure eight that shows the position of the sun in the sky at a given time of day (such as noon) at one specific locale measured throughout the year." her father gifted it with the intention of "protecting people year-round" after her original bow broke in a fight. salt in the wound is straightforward, what it says on the tin, and paprika is her own little joke that she doesn't tell anyone

koda: skylark (scimitar) named after a bird he likes, but also that it's light and airy in his hand and "sings" through the air. purely by coincidence: "It is a bird of open farmland and heath, known for the song of the male"

murtagh: mistsplitter (trident) no fancy origin, murtagh is a water-themed character and just thought of his trident being sharp enough to split mist. his surname, riftwarren, also comes from the merging of two different words, so he kept that system. his dual harpoons don't have names

nepenthe: vidrinath (greatsword) named for the drow/undercommon word 'lullaby.' these songs were sung by drow priestesses to help ease students/children into trance. nepenthe thinks of it as putting people to sleep forever, and the juxtaposition between love and violence is incredibly lolth-flavoured. as a mother, she also once sang these songs to her daughter

#this got longer than I expected #me looking like the pepe silvia meme as I share themes and symbolism and motifs from my ocs #not writing #ada #azul #cadiana #crow #cihro #iona #nepenthe #murtagh #koda #genevieve

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ericmun · 1 year

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2022.12.06 Shinhwa's WDJ Lee Minwoo, Kim Dongwan and Junjin on MBC “Noon Song of Hope“: Reason for Sub-unit + Leader Eric Complimented Our Song, Asking for The MR + Shin Hyesung to Live the Longest

On the 6th, Lee Minwoo, Kim Dongwan and Junjin, who are working as Shinhwa’s sub-unit WDJ, appeared on MBC's ‘Noon Song of Hope.’

Special DJ Nabi asked, “Is it the group’s first sub-unit for the first time in 24 years ever since your debut?” Kim Dongwan explained, “We didn’t have time or reason to do sub-unit until now.”

Following his answer, the MC also asked, “How did other members react to the sub-unit work?” Kim Dongwan replied, “They support us a lot, especially leader Eric. He complimented our song and even asked us for the MR.” (T/N: MR often means “music recorded” but here it probably means “master recording” which is the original recording of a song)

Kim Dongwan also explained their choreography, “Choi Young-joon, who appeared on ‘Street Man Fighter,' made it. He’s been working with Shinhwa for a long time.” Minwoo said, “He made the choreography really easy.” But Dongwan said, “Minwoo and Junjin are very good at it but I had a hard time practicing.”

They also shared an episode when they lived together in a dorm. Junjin said, “Everyone shared their underwear but only Dongwan wore his own.” Kim Dongwan said, “I had to write my name in Chinese on my underwear because of them.”

DJ Nabi asked Junjin, “Do you feel mature after marriage?” Kim Dongwan said, “Jun Jin got matured too much. I almost cried because I felt like I lost him.” Junjin said, “I think I’ve changed naturally because I am over 40 years old now. I hope our members will change soon too.”

To the question “Who do you think will live the longest?”, Kim Dong-wan chose Shin Hyesung. He said, “I think he will live long. He tends to eat food that makes you live longer.”

Source: Herald Pop Translation: EricMun.tumblr

#Shinhwa #Eric Mun #Eric Moon #Lee Minwoo #Kim Dongwan #Shin Hyesung #Junjin #Andy Lee #WDJ #News #Mun Jung Hyuk #신화 #에릭 #문정혁 #이민우 #김동완 #신혜성 #전진 #앤디

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vikensbrainrot · 1 year

Text

To you, a year ago

Tags: Choi Beomgyu-centric; implied Choi Beomgyu/Hwang Hyunjin; implied Choi Beomgyu/Choi Yeonjun; best friends Beomgyu & Taehyun; brothers Beomgyu & Jungwon; other idols mentioned; mentions of alcohol; bipolar Beomgyu; suicidal thoughts; suicide attempt; heavy angst.

Summary: Beomgyu had the worst experience of his year at last night's party. Now it was Monday, and he locked himself in his room. Depressed, he doesn't see any way out, unless...

A/N: This fic is actually a flashback chapter from a story I am posting on Ao3. In the original story, Beomgyu only meets Yeonjun a year later, and the person portrayed here as Yeonjun is someone else. I just changed the names because no one here in Tumblr knows about the original. If you want to check, just click here.

Also, this chapter is essentially the main character attempting suicide. If you feel triggered by this topic, DON'T READ IT.

If you are dealing with any mental disorder, as I am, I want to say that there is a way out. This is basically my story. And one year later I am the best version of myself. I go to therapy, I take my meds, and I do my best. Death is not the way out, although it may feel like it, there will always be something that will make it worth living. Beomgyu makes my life bearable. That's why I chose him to represent myself in my stories.

June 28th, 2021

It was a sunny Monday, but the windows in Beomgyu's room were fully shut. Beomgyu had a terrible headache due to the alcohol he consumed this weekend. 'listen before I go' by Billie Eilish played in the background, and memories of last night flashed in the boy's mind.

Seeing Hyunjin after so long.

Talking to him by the stairs.

The hope of a friendship that could flourish between them after all that happened.

Ryujin's serious, judgmental face when she said, "Can you guys leave? Yeji wants to go home".

That terrible feeling in Beomgyu's gut. But we weren't even doing anything...

Hyunjin got up, "I'll take care of it. She's my ex. I know how to deal with her".

Yeji yelled in the kitchen.

The tears came pouring down Beomgyu's face, the guilt he felt for causing trouble again. He knew everyone at the party probably thought they were fucking. It was Beomgyu and Hyunjin, after all. They always fucked.

He remembers the soothing voices of Taehyun and Heeseung calming him. And even Hueningkai, who he met that day.

Then a loud noise.

More tears.

Ryujin shouting for help.

And then Chaeryeong, owner of the house, with a bloody blanket.

Beomgyu couldn't stop crying.

"Beomgyu! For God's sake, this is not your fault!" said Chaeryeong, washing the covering.

Yeji being taken to the hospital.

The huge scar on her forehead.

"How did it happen?" someone asked.

"Seems like she tried to throw the blender at Hyunjin, but it fell on her."

Shit.

And worst of all.

He remembers laying down with Hyunjin after his ex was taken to the emergency.

And he remembers how Hyunjin kissed him. How he said he missed Beomgyu's smell.

He remembers how he enjoyed it.

And how they only didn't fuck then and there because Taehyun wouldn't let his best friend go through it all again.

Thank you, Tae. He thought now, with his eyes closed.

Beomgyu decided not to go to college. The shame was too much. The pain was unbearable. It's been a week since he last took his medication. Fuck. He shouldn't be so irresponsible. He shouldn't have drunk that much. He shouldn't have gone to that goddamn party.

As noon approached, Beomgyu remembered he had to go to work. Ten minutes from his house. He just had to go and sit in front of the computer until 5 p.m.. But it was so hard. The song repeated itself over and over again as Beomgyu's thoughts spiraled.

I'll never be able to have a job where I'll be allowed to take a day off.

I am a fucking problem. I make my problems everyone else’s.

If I hadn’t called Hyunjin to talk yesterday, Yeji wouldn't have that scar on her face.

I feel like shit. And I can't even rest through the day 'cause I can lose this shitty job.

I'll never be in peace. My life has always been a drama. There's no way I'll be happy even taking medications.

Medications.

He didn't think. He just looked at the clock showing 12:30, the time he should go to work, and did what he had to do. He checked if Jungwon, his brother, was at home. He wasn't. Good.

Poor Beomgyu. That was not him. That was the bipolar disorder talking. That was the lack of serotonin left because of the alcohol. That was the consequence of a week off of medication.

He laid on his bed and waited. He didn't write a letter, not even a note. But he thought it would be too selfish leaving without saying anything. So he grabbed his cell phone and texted.

To: Mom, Dad, Jungwonnie, Taehyun, Heeseung, Yeonjun

I love you.

And closed his eyes.

His phone rang, and Yeonjun's photo was on the screen. One they took under terrible lighting inside the car the last time they saw each other. That was a long time ago.

"Gyu, are you there? What happened?"

His voice was heavy with worry. It's been half a year since they last talked. Beomgyu had already moved on, and so did Yeonjun. But he loved the older one so bad. Yeonjun always said how much she cared about him. And even though he hurt Beomgyu a lot, Beomgyu never once believed he didn't love him. It was just not meant to be.

"Junnie..." Beomgyu could already feel the effects of his actions. "I- I tried to kill myself." He was sobbing.

"Are you at home?"

No answer.

"Beomgyu, answer me. Are you at home?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Don't move."

With that, he hung up the phone. Yeonjun worked in the same building as Beomgyu. It wouldn't take him long.

In ten minutes he was in Beomgyu's bedroom, followed by a crying Jungwon who just arrived and realized what happened.

Beomgyu was laid on the ground, almost fainting. He was sweating, feeling nauseous.

"Gyu, c'mon, let me take you to the bathroom." Yeonjun pleaded.

The taller boy and Jungwon carried Beomgyu and took him to the bathroom. "Jungwon, go get some eggs. We need to make him vomit". The boy ran to the kitchen and got back in a second. Yeonjun cracked a raw egg and made Beomgyu swallow it. Nothing happened, so he gave him another one. The boy cried and complained but took it all. And then he vomited.

By that time, Mr. and Mrs. Choi got home, desperate. It was the second time their firstborn had tried it. They swallowed their tears and focused on taking Beomgyu to the hospital. The first time, he survived without anyone's help, thank God. But now it was more dangerous. Now he already knew how not to fail.

They thanked Yeonjun for coming and rescuing their son and asked him to rest because now it was their job to do it. They would call him later to keep him updated. Both parents got into the car, Mrs. Choi carrying Beomgyu in the back seat.

The last words he heard were his mother's prayers.

----

When he woke up, it was already late afternoon. He was in an emergency unit, with a tube entering one of his nostrils, going down his throat. And a black, thick, cold liquid ran in it right into his stomach.

"Hey, babe. How do you feel?" his mom asked when she saw him opening his eyes.

"Sleepy..." the words almost didn't come out, and he felt the tube moving inside his guts.

"Oh, that must be the morphine. They had to sedate you to put the nasogastric tube." Mrs. Choi spoke rather calmly to someone who had just witnessed their son trying to end his life. Sometimes Beomgyu hated this fierce façade of his mom. But he couldn't hate her. He knew she did what she had to do to survive.

"Oh... and what is this?" He pointed to the six cups on the table. Only one of them was filled with the black liquid. The rest, he assumed, must be in his body.

"Activated charcoal to detoxify your stomach. Tomorrow your poop will be black", she tried to smile. Beomgyu laughed, even with the constant discomfort of the tube scratching his throat. He sighed, and looked at his mom.

"Hey, mom... I'm sorry." He lowered his head like a child does when they know they did something wrong.

"Don't say that. I am sorry. I should have taken more care of you, kid."

"You already do a great job, mom. It is not your fault."

And then he went back to sleep.

Some hours later, woke up. Mrs. Choi had her eyes closed and murmured a prayer for her son. Beomgyu waited for her to finish.

"Mom..."

"Say, sweetie."

"I promise I'll never overlook my medicine again, okay?"

She gave him a fond smile. And Beomgyu let the anesthesia do its work and lull him back to sleep.

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notyouraveragebozo · 7 months

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Day 1000 Milestone Message

Reprinted from the website UniqueDestinations.org Director's Den.

Director’s Note 9/27/2023 Day 1000

A Urumalli, U Macinasar, G Entum – Unique Destinations Enterprise began its long, and very strange, journey – on a (virtual) global wander, two years before the website UniqueDestinations.org was first presented to the peoples of Earth, and a ‘curtain’ – drawn back – upon – enigma (?), on the very last possible day, of 2020 ‘envisioning’ – December 31st, 2020, at 12P GMT.

One thousand days ago – a website was turned ‘On’, and ‘novel‘ information (possibly), was – SHARED – with all the World.

With a brief word of prayerful hope to the spirit of my recently deceased mother, (the company’s sole benefactor),… I flipped a switch, and transmitted to: 74 news agencies; 10 specialty organizations (like Smithsonian and National Geographic); and 63 billionaires or their foundational Twitter handles – a black and white image, five-word cut-line, and the website domain name.

Originally, I aimed to advance ‘human understanding‘ by presenting a ‘Supreme Adventure’ – an ‘Opportunity of a Lifetime’ – to those with bottomless pockets,… as – ‘the method’ – to advance the (possible) understanding of all.

It was my opinion – back then – that the wealthy, seeking a new ‘mountain’ to summit,… – (giants of industry, stately princes, and worldly potentates) – would have at their command the necessary means and connections – to carry out such an adventure, in a productive, fruitful, successfully-constructive fashion, while also permitting the global populace to ‘root’ and cheer for their favorite ‘titans’.

The rest of the planetary populace – I envisioned – would benefit in a number of ways. Besides the potential new awareness of no longer being alone in the Universe – coupled with the ‘extrapolated’ concomitant illuminated calling – to each soul to make changes – to ‘evolve’ and ‘grow’ – our own human hearts – and advance our neighborliness, sociability, and sense of responsibility… the trickle-down access to possible new technology devices, the dissemination and relaying of (possibly) ‘novel’ materials, and the realization that this world is full of amazing and remarkable wonders, to witness and appreciate – (and to safeguard),… there is much to be grateful and thankful (of, for, and in.)

The arguing against the wisdom of this method of dissemination – is now – a moot point. (The ‘cork’ – is – now – ‘off-the-bottle’!) (I would posit – that whoever might come upon such a ‘novelty’, (and who recognized the possible/potential – inherent/intrinsic value,… – that anyone – would decide – to ‘do‘,… ‘whatever’ – they would decide – to ‘do‘ – about whatever they found.)

I chose – to try help advance everyone – with a global adventure opportunity of discovery.

A lot of thought has gone into this enterprise -(the words could fill a book.)

However,… because my mind was so ‘focused’ on presenting the – ‘data‘ – my eyes failed to notice – that there was a tremendous flaw presented on my Homepage, that for one reason or another – went unnoticed until 580 days into the presentation! – The Header and Footer, and copyright(!!!), displayed the intended word ‘Enterprise’ as ‘Enterprize’, (as in ‘enter – prize‘ – as in ‘joining the auction construct?’ – was that my thinking??),… (But… – I had Incorporated – under the word – ‘Enterprise‘ – like the Starship!) (This illustrates - one of the hazards of a small firm lacking a dedicated proof reader.) The error was rectified on the day – but the damage was well-inflicted, – ‘doubt’ – was sown. And on Day 775,… February 14th, 2023, Valentine’s Day,… at ‘High-Noon’,… the GPS Coordinates Auction – closed with my company retaining control of the GPS coordinates/Intellectual Property. (I had communicated over 100,000 Tweets in that time frame – many regarding the website.)

Four days after closing the GPS Coordinates Auction – on Saturday, February 18, 2023, the self-proclaimed, ‘free-speech-absolutist’ – and chief twit, PERMANENTLY SUSPENDED, without any understanding of ‘Why’, or having ability to re-phrase or retract ‘words’. As an old-time telephone operator might phrase it,… – the ‘plug’ was pulled on NotYourAverageBozo, on Twitter. (The coining of the CEO moniker arose out of the fact that I, indeed, was not your regular type ‘funny’-guy – (I had an angle!) – I had – and still have – a possible ancient crashed flying saucer – to promote!

For 779 days, I advertised/broadcast my ‘novel’ information on the Twitter platform, for – Free.

(Since going Live, the original redacted English pdf script, has been improved to be comprehensible in 104 languages, and ‘select-text to spoken English’ – added for those with vision and/or literacy issues.)

Long ago,… back in the day,… once upon a time,… Twitter was regarded by many, to be The ‘virtual-global-town square’.

@YourBozo had around 3,500 folk who followed him, as he expounded on his soapbox. (That is not a large number, but it is not small, either.) I did not seek to beg for folk to follow me. Most – almost all who followed – were folk who found in my account, something interesting, and chose to follow so they might learn more of what I might say. They were/(are) very interesting people. Ranging from UN delegates/rocket scientists/ engineers/ astrophysicists/ psychologists/medical doctors/ teachers/ geologists /funny animal content creators/politicos / environmental warriors/ hearty, feisty, cancer battlers – and more! (Special shout outs to RC de Winter, John Dabell, and GrandmaSmokesWeed – your artistic adeptness, your indomitable spirit, and your joyful heart – made my days better. – Thank you for your sharing with me.)

The Twitter platform allowed me to reach out to those in the film and book industries – like George Lucas, Steven Spielberg, James Cameron, Sam Raimi, Rob Tappert, William Shatner, George Takei, and Mark Hamill. (I shared ‘celebratory’ tweets with Stephen and Tabitha King, but hesitated connecting too deeply, as I wanted my enterprise to be more ‘uplifting’ than ‘spooky’.)

While ‘advertising’ on Twitter, I managed to share-out my broadcast messages before: Queen Elizabeth II; Colin Powell; Larry King; Betty White; Carl Reiner; Richard Leakey; Nichelle Nichols; Alan Arkin; David Warner; William Hurt; Tony Bennet; Jimmy Buffet; and many other luminaries, had their lights dimmed forever. (I felt a small sense of accomplishment in the sharing of my materials with those celebrities, while they might have been able to take it all in – my mother never got that far.)

I miss interacting with you all – your squirrel memes, scientific brilliance, masterful artistry, moving poetry, and your ‘daily logs’ of ‘life’… I may not have responded to everyone, but, let me say,… the ‘Town Square’ made my days brighter, thank you for your sharing. – (I hope you all are well.)

In the last week of the Auction, On Super Bowl Sunday, February 12th, 2023,… I managed to post an AUDIO Back Story Twitter Spaces – detailing the words relayed to new programmers before they could do any work for me, and allowing the curious, wandering global citizens, to hear a similar talk, should they desire to understand more about what I was thinking.

The last week of the GPS Auction,… was also the – ‘time of balloons’. During this last week of the sale, @Your Bozo had communicated support of the current administration, in tweeted responses communicated to President Biden’s POTUS Twitter account (the message, which now exists forever in the U.S. Government Archives.)

I apologize for not engaging more with you wonderful Twitter folk when I had the chance, – (when I was still permitted to communicate with other users on that platform.) At the time, I had been mentally, (mainly) in ‘broadcasting‘ mode. I was focused on bringing news to the world, in as disarming a fashion – as much as I could manage.

I used the CEO profile: to address issues with the voice of (a financially, as yet, unrealized), Bruce Wayne/ Tony Stark type – boldly standing for progress, a better Tomorrow, and a staunch defender of humanity – calling out hypocrisy, injustice, and irresponsibility.

(I had also gregariously offered/shared, on Twitter, my hope of throwing a party for all my ‘friends’, when ‘my ship – came in’. (I imagined some very interesting gatherings!) Now,… Twitter is no longer free, or fair, nor even – ‘Twitter” – (it’s now – pronounced ‘ex’.) Musk has shown the nature of his character, by the actions he has taken. (He was one of the 63 billionaires that I had originally sent message, but when he purchased Twitter – he invalidated his chances to participate – purchasing the platform that I had been broadcasting and advertising upon, thereby placing himself in a special unfair position – able to orchestrate/obfuscate interactions with @Your Bozo on Twitter.)

(Jeff Bezos and Sir Richard Branson had also been sent emails and Tweets regarding the Adventure offering.) – (I fear I may have slighted Mr. Bezos, when congratulating him on his trip to the edge of space, and returning to the Earth safely… – by poorly phrased tweet regarding ‘proportions’. – I humbly apologize.)

(Sir Richard – after you touched down, and you relayed your experience,… and you pulled those UFO pictures from your pocket, and shared you were going to take the grandkids to see the movie ‘ET’,… Sir! I very much enjoyed your sharing! – I hope they enjoyed the film.)

With the Coordinates Auction concluded, We sought another avenue to explore, in our pursuit, to bring Our Intellectual Property, to the Globe.

Onward to Plan ‘B’. After the Grand Adventure as Auction item,… I moved on to present an Art sale, as a way to carry-on the ‘conversation’ of the website.

Artistic renditions of the ‘object'(?) were put up for sale – (but small company foibles resulted in experienced software glitching, that resulted in nobody taking any of the images ‘home’.) After the last permutation of the Art Auction ended without any takers, the decision was made to hand-off the Artwork to a gallery or museum, via donation. This remains the intended plan, but making contact with potential gallery acquisition offices, has yet to be enacted, as it requires a certain amount of ‘finesse’, ‘refinement’, and – chutzpah.

Our small office, seeking some modicum of income, sought to create a small item of merchandise – a thermal-reactive color-changing coffee mug, that interested parties could wrap their hands around (minds – too!) – Besides holding hot beverages safely – the mug also serves as a portable advertisement - for more mugs and – the underlying, obvious messages, that such an image might/could bring into the mind – a real conversation starter!

Being a very small, company has required wearing many hats. Besides working hard behind the scenes on the website – keeping the elements functioning cohesively, (a constant activity) We have been tasked to craft Social Media promotional materials - Tweets/posts/letters/emails/videos,… – (work is never finished.)

(On Day 998 of the Presentation, the website surpassed the previous year’s total of Unique Visitors!)

(Currently the website Visitor counters have been acting up – (but they display the correct values behind the scenes.) A related Count-Up Clock glitch has been repaired, but, before I can spend the time seeking the Visitor Count display rectified,… attention on the approaching deadline for the 1000 day reflection message reigns supreme.)

Of the latest Social Media posts that have been created,… – the Letters to NASA and the U.S. Congress – are of most importance.

For the record, on April 16th, 2023, UniqueDestinations.org, placed a ‘Red Curtain Tour’ video on the bottom of the Home page – three days before – the (Open/Closed) April 19th U.S. Senate Committee hearing regarding the Pentagon’s All-Domain-Resolution-Office (AARO) and Unidentified (Arial/Anomalous) Phenomena – UAPs.

Also for the record, on July 21st, 2023 – five days before – the (Open) U.S. House Oversight Committee meeting on UAPs took place, We had posted to the Directors Den page, a Letter in response to the (Open) May 31st., 2023 NASA + AARO UAP Framework Development Meeting that was posted to YouTube in a 4 hour presentation. And once more for the record, on July 31st, 2023 – one day before – the scheduled release of the Pentagon‘s Report on the findings regarding the May 31st. 2023 NASA + AARO UAP Framework meeting,… UniqueDestinations.org posted to the Director’s Den page,… an Open Letter to Congress, (that has since been directly communicated to two members of the U.S. Senate), ensuring all – that the veteran (owned/operated small business), was/is, a valid entity, possessing Intellectual Property, and a strong sense of civic duty.

After two years of intense, mostly solitary preparation, followed by a ‘curtain, being drawn back’,… and then,… one thousand days elapsing,… here we all are.

From the moment that I made ‘discovery’ (maybe), I kept family, friends and pretty faces at a distance. Worries about individuals seeking to strong-arm kept secrets, and fears of exposure to novel disease, (served to keep all at arm’s-length.

As I strove to keep shepherded, potential ‘novel’ information, I came to the understanding, that there is no real best time, to impart ‘new’ information to the entire planet.

I had not wanted to have my construct ‘moved-on’ while the United States Government was at the mercy of the bottle-blond, bully-boy, blowhard. – (I felt embarrassed – that I might force a (new/old?) neighbor (possibly), to ‘meet-and-greet’ with the old, angry, orange, buffoon.) – (I worried for the sake of all humanity.)

Six days after the Presentation began – there was a very poor display of ‘civic pride’, in the Capitol Building of the United States, (unconnected to the materials and messages of Our website), in an attempt to circumvent the established Rules of Law, by the adherents of the outgoing Administration. This display of poor sportsmanship, frankly illumined, to ‘all those observant’, of the ‘state-of-play’ – within the hearts and minds of 21st Century humanity. – (From the dawn of Time – until this moment – it seems that Humanity – still has much room for improvement. – (I know myself – to be an imperfect human – yet, I believe myself capable of adaptation, growth, and learning.)

Politics was not top of mind when the ‘curtain’ was pulled-back. It was hoped that the global elite would want to feed on the ‘wonderful possibility’ contained in the journeying and marvelous-mental-machinations of making ‘first-contact’ with (some potentially very old) ‘neighbors – (maybe.) And through their efforts – the enigmatic – (if actual),… be taken – ‘mainstream’, and We might – all humanity – ‘progress‘, ‘evolve‘, and benefit.

Somewhere out there – (it is a thought of mine) – there may be (possibly) some – very, long-suffering, patient, neighbors – waiting – for technically-savvy minds that can wrap around such revelatory information, and understand the science and physics involved, without sounds of ‘oooga-booga’, or other skeptical flat-Earth exhortations, so that a Conversation might be taken up, and – Humanity – able to turn a new page on its own existence.

This message is being posted to the World, – three days before – the United States Government faces a budgetary crisis, created out of one political party seeking to throw a tantrum - like a little child. This is where things stand, at the moment – Humanity – displaying – ‘room-to-grow‘.

Humanity has also shown itself to be capable of sending an object on a four billion mile (six year) journey to an asteroid/land safely/ collect rock samples/lift-off the asteroid/ and safely – (beautifully!) – land on Earth with samples of the building blocks of Our solar system! (Congratulations NASA! That was amazing feat of technological engineering! – Bravo!) Humans are capable of remarkable things – none of which would likely happen – without hope, deep thought, and perseverance. Over the days that have been, there have been moments that I have questioned (briefly), walking away, from what is presented at UniqueDestinations.org. (Emphasis on ‘briefly‘.) I am a hopeful soul. I am also a dreamer – a person that thinks about what might be achieved, if adequate thought /time/resources/and labor – could be employed.

Humanity has learned to: harness fire; grow food; communicate ideas over vast distances and time; build bridges and indoor plumbing; create symphonies; erect architectural wonders; turn on the TV with remote control devices; photograph atoms; step on the surface of the Moon; even to send objects – out of the solar system. Humans have achieved much, when they apply themselves, in joint effort.

Just imagine, what might be possible to learn – if the opportunity would only present itself, and the chance not ignored, but moved upon? (Imagine if there might be some – ‘leap‘ – of understanding?)

Over time, folk have asked, ‘When are you going to stop doing what you are doing?” My response to this (defeatist sounding) question is… ‘When the information is either debunked, or validated’. – (There are other things that Unique Destinations Enterprise would like to work on. First up, after this Premier item is imparted – is a possible, 15th. C caravel!)

With hope in the heart, and well-wishes to all who dream of better days and brighter, happier tomorrows, We shall continue our vigil and efforts to provide (possible) illumination to this World.

One thousand suns have crested the horizon since We first shared with the planet. One thousand dawns have kissed sweet dreams to the night. – (And tomorrow – shall shine on Day One Thousand and One.)

The information possessed by Unique Destinations Enterprise, and on display at UniqueDestinations.org, has been shared to all peoples – at no expense – in 104 languages – out of a sense of duty and obligation to humanity, in the hope that we all might step up our ‘game’ and grow/ evolve into more responsible and enlightened human beings, capable of acting more neighborly, and accepting of – others – who may not look like ourselves.

Unique Destinations Enterprise has hopes to hand-off the Coordinates, this year, but We have to wait until the U.S. Government is able to pay its bills and keep the lights on. (We need functional/rational/constructive minds with which to interact and communicate -(foot-dragging proponents of backward cogitation, and childish-tomfoolery, do not assist – in the disseminating.))

As a United States citizen, I am well aware that such materials as are presented, would be a gift for all the World to benefit from, and so,… I envision a Letter to the United Nations, to be among the taskings still in store, for this small company to formulate. (After NASA, the U.S. Congress, and the United Nations – I am about out of ladder rungs to climb!)

NASA had asked for materials to be made available to the global scientific community, so that ‘truths’ might be divined – quoting Carl Sagan – “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary proof” – Unique Destinations Enterprise has remained unchanged in its thousand days of messaging. The directions are clear, the path forward remains before us all.

My mother said I should write a book,… and after two years of preparation, followed by One Thousand days of ‘presenting’,… I think the ‘word-count’ is approaching novel ‘length’! I apologize for the lack of an English teacher guiding me along the ways of commas, colons, hyphens and parenthesis. (I am not AI, and did not employ AI to craft this message.)

Thank you for your patience reading to this point.

Unique Destinations Enterprise is – ‘A place where dreams and reality may meet.’ ‘Have Dreams – Can Travel’ – that is Our motto, and what we would offer to everyone.

Respectfully,

The Director A Urumalli, U Macinasar, G Entum – Unique Destinations Enterprise

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tenaciouspostfun · 9 months

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Grass Roots and Herman's Hermits in Concert.

Oldies but Goodies.

By Robert M Massimi.Published less than a minute ago • 5 min read

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Robert M. Massimi.

Until his death in 2011, band member Rob Grill chose replacement band members who would carry on the band's sound for years to come. Since that time, "The Grass Roots" play 100 shows a year throughout the country. Originally from the Los Angeles California area, the band was known for their Folk Rock, pop, pop rock and sunshine pop (arguably, some would even put them in the psychedelic pop category as well).

The band today features the heart and soul of the band, bassist, vocalist Mark Dawson, Joe Dougherty on drums, Larry Nelson on keyboards and Dusty Hanvey on lead guitar. Continuing on its traditions, the band last night churned out 11 songs; aside from a questionable choice of order in those songs, they made their hour onstage pleasurable.

Original songwriters P.F. Sloan and Steve Barri were tremendous in the arrangements, the changing harmonies that earned them 29 charting singles- 13 of which went gold. Only 9 other bands have charted more hits on Billboards Hot 100 than The Grass Roots.

Opening with "I'd Wait a Million Years", the band put the crowd into a groove. The band's second song, "Sooner or Later" should have been the evenings last one. Always a fan favorite, it maybe their most recognizable song. Using a popular Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds cover: "Don't Pull Your Love" was the perfect lead in to the pensive "Let's Live for Today".

As the band really gained their traction, the evenings seventh song and perhaps should have been the second to last song song is the very popular rendition by the band "Love Grows Where My Rosemary Grows" (Edison Lighthouse cover). The Grass Roots popularized this song in the 70's, bringing it to number two on the charts. I am not sure why the band played "Where Where You When I Needed You", a Herman's Hermits song, but they really had a soulful version of this song. This song showed the talent of Larry Nelson on Keyboards.

Ending with "The River Is Wide" and "Midnight Confessions" are two that I would have reconsidered. The Grass Roots are a upbeat band, and are know for their pop, upbeat songs. I think that these two are not signature songs of the band, and a poor choice to close with.

This Grass Roots for the most part fit the image that Rob Grill wanted and imagined. Dusty Hanvey at times struggled on the lead guitar. His playing went from excellent to fair throughout the night. Joe Dougherty at times sounded like he was chopping wood on the drums. His down-strokes were to obtuse making the back beat too staccato. The lighting which is usually a strong point at The Morristown Performing Arts Center was not clear and the choice of colors were questionable. The colors did not match the genre of the music played. At Three Dog Night just two weeks ago, the colors washed well to the music; tonight it just didn't have the proper vibe.

Herman's Hermits.

Peter Noone, from Davyhulme, Lancashire, England got his training as an actor, musician and singer at Manchester college of music and drama. It was there that he founded the group "The Heartbeats". The band would later change its name to Harmans Hermits and later, Herman's Hermits. Noone had taken the role of conductor of the band and from there, Herman's Hermits had a sound of its own.

Because of his training as an actor, Noone (like David Bowie) was always able to bring excitement to the audience. As such, Herman's Hermits quickly became acclaimed as a talented band with a real character as their front man. Having been on regular T.V. shows like The Jackie Gleason show as well as Dean and many more, Noone would act in movies as well. A talented guitarist, pianist, Noone was sought after across all artist boundaries.

In the familiar Union Jack backdrop, Herman's Hermits performed 22 songs in total (many were short formed songs like Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire", "Start Me Up" by the Rolling Stones, "Benny and The Jets", Elton John, "All My Lovin", The Beatles, "Day Dream Believer", The Monkeys and "Do Wah Diddy Diddy"; to Noone, it is as much about the showmanship as it it is the show! And what a showman he is! It did not take long for the audience to figure out that he has an incredible scale range and that his energy makes it difficult to believe that he is 75 years old. Both fit and energized, Peter Noone marched all over the stage in perpetual motion (even in the audience) for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Playing all their hits: "I'm Into Something Good", "Dandy", "Silhouettes", "Mrs. Brown", "You've Got a Lovely Daughter" and ending with their two biggest hits: "I'm Henry the Vlll" and "There's a Kind of Hush", the band was tight all night long feeding the beast of its singer. The stage setup was such that the front man was front and center. The lead and bassist were in the backdrop over Noone's right shoulder, the drummer set far behind his center and the organist off to the left. After all, there is only room for the one big personality at the front, or anywhere near the front.

Like The Grass Roots, Peter Noone was self depreciating about his age, his carrier, where he has been and what he and the band have accomplished. In his British humor he makes fun of his band mates, his family, himself and even his aging audience. Like The Grass Roots, one thing is for certain: both bands love what they do in playing music, still out on the road entertaining their adoring fans.

60S MUSIC

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About the Creator

Robert M Massimi.

I have been writing on theater since 1982. A graduate from Manhattan College B.S. A member of Alpha Sigma Lambda, which recognizes excellence in both English and Science. I have produced 12 shows on and off Broadway. I've seen over700 shows

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Last night at the beautiful State Theater in New Brunswick, New Jersey, The Doobie Brothers exemplified why they are now Rock & Roll Hall of Famers. Tight all evening, the performance was magnified with the excellent saxophonist, Marc Russo and the expert piano and singing of Michael McDonald.

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2dplatformergameconceptwsc · 2 years

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Limbo, Celeste, Badland, Inside research

In latin Limbo means edge or boundary referring to the edge of hell. Limbo is a puzzle platform video game developed by independent studio Playdead and originally published by Microsoft Game Studios for the Xbox 360. The game was released in July 2010 on Xbox Live Arcade, and has since been ported by Playdead to several other systems, including the PlayStation 3, Linux and Microsoft Windows. Limbo is a 2D side-scroller, incorporating a physics system that governs environmental objects and the player character. The player guides an unnamed boy through dangerous environments and traps as he searches for his sister. The developer built the game's puzzles expecting the player to fail before finding the correct solution. Playdead called the style of play trial and death

Limbo is presented through dark, greyscale graphics and with minimalist ambient sounds, creating an eerie, haunting environment. The dark visuals also serve to conceal numerous lethal surprises, including such environmental and physical hazards as deadly bear traps on the forest floor, or lethal monsters hiding in the shadows

The primary character in Limbo is a nameless boy, who awakens in the middle of a forest on the edge of hell where he encounters a giant spider who tries to kill him. After using a trap to cut off the sharp points on half of the spider's legs, it retreats further into the forest, and the boy is allowed to pass.

Playdead chose to ignore outside advice from investors and critics during development, such as to add multiplayer play and adjustable difficulty levels, and to extend the game's length. According to Patti, Playdead felt these changes would break the integrity of Jensen's original vision.

Celeste

Celeste is a 2018 platform game designed, directed and written by Maddy Thorson and programmed by Thorson and Noel Berry. It is a fully-fledged version of the PICO-8 prototype made by Thorson and Berry during a game jam in 2016. Set on a fictional version of Mount Celeste, it follows a young woman named Madeline who attempts to climb the mountain, and must face her inner demons in her quest to reach the summit.

The gameplay is based on a series of two-dimensional screens presenting obstacles that require strategy, precision and a quick reaction time from the player in order to be overcome. Considered challenging and often compared to games like Super Meat Boy, Celeste includes settings to granularly adjust its difficulty.

Celeste received critical acclaim upon release, being praised for its story, gameplay, and soundtrack. It won several awards, including the Best Independent Game and Games for Impact awards at The Game Awards 2018, where it was also nominated for Game of the Year. Celeste was also a financial success, selling over a million copies by the end of 2019.

Badland

Badland is a mobile video game developed by Finland-based Frogmind Games and first released on the iOS and Android platforms in 2013. It was released on Windows in June 2014. There is also a Game of the Year Edition that was released in May 2015 for PlayStation 3, PlayStation 4, PlayStation Vita, Xbox One, Wii U and Steam for Linux, Microsoft Windows and OS and in August 2021 for Nintendo Switch. In December 2015, its sequel Badland 2 was released on iOS and Android

The player flies around a little black creature called a Clone through the woods of the game. Beginning in Day I, the game progresses through four stages which consist of Dawn, Noon, Dusk, and Night, each with a separate color scheme and new theme of traps. As the player goes through Day I, egg-shaped machines begin to come out of the water of the background. Heading into the night, the machines begin to turn on and the game becomes harder as the machines become part of the dangers of the forest. Eventually, the character succeeds in disabling the machines and the machines become dormant once again until Day II begins it all over. Most of Day II is similar in plot structure, but smaller octopus-like machines begin to make themselves known and the animals in the forest begin to disappear. The last level includes saving a rabbit that was hanging by its foot and eventually coming to fly in front of a giant eye of one of the machines, leaving a cliffhanger into possible future updates

Inside

Inside is a puzzle-platform game developed and published by Playdead in 2016 for PlayStation 4, Xbox One and Microsoft Windows. The game was released for iOS in December 2017 and Nintendo Switch in June 2018. A macOS version was released in June 2020. The player controls a boy in a dystopic world, solving environmental puzzles and avoiding death. It is the successor to Playdead's 2010 Limbo, with similar 2.5D gameplay.

Playdead began work on Inside shortly after the release of Limbo, using Limbo's custom game engine. The team switched to Unity to simplify development, adding their own rendering routines, later released as open source, to create a signature look. The game was partially funded by a grant from the Danish Film Institute. Inside premiered at Microsoft's E3 2014 conference, with a planned release in 2015, but was delayed to 2016.

Inside was released to critical acclaim. Critics noted it as an improvement over Limbo, praising its art direction, atmosphere and gameplay. The game was nominated for numerous accolades, including game of the year, and won several independent and technical achievements

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libertybri · 2 years

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Not the original You Are My Sunshine anon, but could you do a oneshot with Romanced!Hancock and gn!Sole based on that song?

*I’ve done song oneshots in the past before and loved doing them so much, so this ask is absolutely perfect!

Ecstasy; the feeling he felt around them, pure bliss in their presence. Why they ever chose to share their gift of love with a guy like him, a ghoul like him, he would never know. They were kind-hearted, special to the core. The type of person that lights up a room as soon as they walked in. And here they were, devoting their special kind of love to him, quite possibly the least deserving person of it, or at least in his mind that was how it appeared.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

Not even the strongest hit of jet gave him the high he felt when his lover was in his arms. The amount of lazy days taken between to two, where they just stayed up in his office and cuddled for half the day was phenomenal. He made sure to always whisper sweet nothings in their ear, keep them smiling and keep them laughing. Plentiful kisses and soft touches were spared through days like this.

Hancock hummed a sweet melody as he swiped his thumb smoothly over his lover’s cheek, at the same time turning their face to him and smiling adoringly. Their eyelids were hooded, tired as they were, and they had a cheeky grin on their flushed face. “How can you be tired when we’ve slept passed noon, sunshine?” He teases them, continuing to soothingly rub just below their cheekbone.

They could easily be lulled to sleep again by this notion, had he not started a conversation. A yawn surpassed their lips as they speak, “This was much needed considering how much sleep I’ve been missing out on.” They reply and close their eyes. Hancock would speak again, but seeing as they reached an arm over his frame and pushed their face into his chest, he chuckled and quieted instead.

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don’t take my sunshine away

As they drifted off into yet another deep slumber midday, Hancock shut his eyes and attempted to do the same. No matter how tightly shut his lids were, he couldn’t seem to fall back into a sleep as his mind wandered to many places. Places he hadn’t been since Sole first confessed their attraction to him and it made him question his worth to them. A ghoul, an addict, a rundown mayor; He questioned what they ever saw in him and how long it will take before they realize they made a mistake.

They didn’t even ask him to get clean, but he wanted to promise that much to them in given time. So as he slightly pulled out of their grip and reached over to the nightstand for a spare container of jet, he felt like an even worse screwup. The feeling didn’t change in the slightest when he took the container to his lips and huffed a hit big enough to put him to sleep with his lover. All the while, the thoughts still roamed his now weary-mind, and alas he could sleep on them.

The other night, dear when I lay sleeping

I dreamt I held you in my arms

When I awoke, dear I was mistaken

So I hung my head and cried

Even in his slumber he couldn’t escape the disastrous thoughts. For one day he knew, either he would mess things up or they would get tired of waking up to his mug every morning. It truly haunted him as he lay sleeping, dreaming the exact scenario they were in now except his lover had disappeared. It felt too real, the emotions he felt in his dream transcribed to real life as he tossed and turned, groaning in his sleep. In these events, Sole was awoken, and they looked to their lover pitifully and took his shoulder. They shook him gently, singing out his name, “John. Honey, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”

They cooed in his ear and kissed his rough cheek as his eyes fluttered open. He takes a deep breath as he studies them intently. A hesitant hand reaches out as he caresses their face, his thumb lingering on their bottom lip for a moment before he leans in and kisses them with much urgency. “Are you alright, dear? These nightmares are becoming more frequent. Maybe we should look into it.” They suggest, visibly worried for their lover.

Hancock shakes his head and takes their hand in his own, bringing their knuckles to his lips in a haste kiss. “Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ll be fine.” He assured them, though the worry never faded.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy when skies are grey

Sole shakes their head, disagreeing with his motives. “You’re a terrible liar, dear.” They tell him. Hancock looks almost offended by their callout to his behavior and before he can reply, they speak again, “If there’s something wrong, I would like to know. Your troubles are mine. That’s how this works, in case you’ve forgotten the agreement.” He could hear the hint of teasing in their tone to lighten to mood a bit, though their features still held great concern for him.

He sighs deeply, and out of fear of messing things up by not confessing his issues, admits to Sole his troubling feelings. “I guess I’ve just been wondering how long it’s gonna take before you realize I’m not what you really want. I mean, you and I both know I’m not the most handsome face to look at. And this charm can only keep ya around for so long before you get tired of it. Not to mention all of my other issues you just got dragged into. It just ain’t fair to you, and it’s probably best you realize that now.” His chest feels a ton lighter as the confession hits the air. Though with the sour look on Sole’s face and their silence, he is afraid that he may have messed up just now as well. There truly was no win to this for him, he thought.

Though he was mistaken. “Are you kidding me? Babe, I wasn’t dragged into any of this, I– you’re joking, right? You have to be joking.” Sole takes a deep breath before continuing on their spiel. “While that handsome face and charm is definitely what drew me in, it’s not the reason I fell in love with you.”

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

So please don’t take my sunshine away

A hundred confessions over and over with Sole professing their love wouldn’t even begin to dent the insecurity held on Hancock. What speaks a thousand words is their behavior and concern as they spew out just how much he means to them. Teary eyes and broken words as they admit he’s the glue that holds them together most days, well he sure was taken aback by it all. While he believed it was Sole who had saved him, he hadn’t even begun to consider how it went both ways. “You’re my sunshine on my darkest days, John.” They end their heartfelt message with a soft kiss to his temple.

“Oh lover, I didn’t know–“ He’s at a loss for words as the ordeal still processes in his mind. How selfish he had been, he thought to himself. Of course Sole wouldn’t care about his looks, his past affairs, or his fixing addiction he worked on; They seek comfort in him and he provides that generously. He treated them as the most special person, loved them like no other, and assured them that things would be alright without even speaking a word.

A happy thought occurred to him as he pulled his lover close and held them in his arms. For once, he felt secure in his relationship

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout companions #fallout fandom #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 hancock #john hancock #fo4 hancock #hancock x sole survivor

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

Text

After All (Part 6/?)

Pairing: Riff x OC Jet Girl

Warnings: Explicit Language, Racism, Suggestions of Violence

Summary: After all, fair is fair.

Word Count: 7200 ish.

DISCLAIMER

Please note that this is a reimagining of the film West Side Story (2021) and as a result is slightly AU.

Additional Disclaimer: I tried my best to search for popular names of Northern African/Egyptian/Arabic origin in the early to mid 1900s. Unfortunately, though I was able to find charts and several pages of popular names (primarily of English/Irish origin) in America in the 1930s-1950s, I wasn’t successful. As a result, the names of OCs used in this chapter may be popular names today, but not necessarily during that time period. I am sorry I wasn’t able to obtain more accurate information and names.

Masterlist /// Part 1 /// Part 5 /// Part 6 /// Part 7

A/N: Part 5 can be found here. Welp, it took 4 parts, but the confrontation(s) is finally here. Thank you all again for everything- the likes, messages, and kind words. I hope you guys like reading this chapter as much as I liked writing it. If you do enjoy, please feel free to give it a like. :)

Part 6: Reunion

School was finally out for the summer.

To say that Baby John was excited to be free of the classes that dragged on and the pointless homework assignments that he rarely completed was an understatement. He found it particularly difficult to attend school the final week, but whenever he showed up at the auto shop in the morning to hang out with the gang, it didn’t take long for Riff to catch on to what he was trying to do. Riff had basically forced Baby John and Mouthpiece out the door most days.

Some of the guys didn’t understand why he even bothered to keep going to school, but Riff and some of the other guys, like Numbers, had always insisted that they go. It was only a few hours a day, anyways, they’d said. They had a point- Baby John knew that most of the guys who didn’t work at the shop couldn’t be counted on to wake up before noon, anyways. There wouldn’t be any trouble he’d need to help them out with.

Since school was finally out, Riff, Numbers, and anyone else couldn’t say a thing if Baby John chose to come and hang out at the shop in the morning for the next two months or so. It was far better than staying at home.

Mouthpiece had had the same idea as him, and he met up with him on the way. When Baby John and Mouthpiece arrived at the auto shop that morning, the garage door was already open. Diesel and Snowboy were already working on whatever car they’d been brought. Ice and Action were there too, hanging out.

Baby John contemplated asking Snowboy and Diesel to show him what they were working on when he heard the sound of rapidly clicking heels. A moment later, someone brushed past him and Mouthpiece to walk through the garage door and enter the shop.

The rest of the gang fell silent as all heads turned to the visitor. Baby John recognized her as the woman from the park the other day.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

While the rest of the guys exchanged looks, Action took a step towards her and said, “He’s busy.”

She ignored him, and glanced up at the landing. “Is he upstairs?”

“Like I said, he’s busy,” Action repeated firmly, glaring at her.

She pursed her lips for a moment, before taking a step towards him. “Go tell him I need to talk to him, then,” she told him evenly, not looking away.

Baby John watched apprehensively as Action grew visibly angry. Action only ever took orders from Riff. Action opened his mouth to respond to her, but stopped when a door opened.

Everyone in the room looked up at the landing and watched as Riff stepped out of the apartment. He looked down at the group with a neutral expression, and immediately spotted the visitor. He wordlessly gestured for her to come up.

Baby John and the rest of the guys quietly watched as the woman stepped around Action and walked over to and up the stairs. Riff watched her as well, and gestured for her to enter the apartment first. She did, and he quickly followed, shutting the door firmly behind them.

————————————————————————————

This was happening.

Riff really couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around what was going on as he allowed her to walk past him and into the apartment. As he shut the door behind them, Roxie took a look around the room, immediately spotting a figure sleeping on a cot nearby. It was Gee-Tar. Riff silently pointed to his bedroom. She walked across the room and entered, and he was right on her heels.

Riff shut the bedroom door behind them, taking a moment to contemplate his words. His mind was beginning to race as he slowly turned to face her. “You know,” he began nonchalantly, and almost jokingly, “When Velma said you’d come to me, I didn’t think it would be this soon-”

His jest was interrupted when she thrusted a piece of paper into his hands.

“I’m sure you’ll know what this means.”

Confused, Riff looked down at the paper, and what he saw angered him immediately. “Where did ya get this?” he demanded, looking at her for an explanation.

“I found it taped to the outside of my window.”

Riff took another look at the paper. It’d been a long time since he’d seen it, but he’d recognize the symbol of the Egyptian Kings anywhere. Someone had taped this to the outside of her window?

The Jets had beaten the Egyptian Kings fair and square. When it was all said and done, the Jets had paid for it by losing Tony, and the Egyptian Kings had paid for it by almost losing one of their own. Maybe some of them still lived in the West Side, but after the rumble, the gangs activity ceased immediately. Until now.

Riff recalled what Velma had said to him the day before- about how someone had followed Roxie home. He didn’t know who it had been then, but he had a good idea now.

“I trust you’ll take care of this?” she asked him.

“I’ll take care of it,” he swore.

In response, Roxie nodded understandingly. She looked away from him, and looked around the room. “Velma told me you were here now,” she informed him, her tone oddly conversational in comparison to how angry she had been just a few moments before.

“Yeah,” Riff said simply, watching her every move curiously.

“It’s more than I expected,” she confessed quietly. Was that a complement?

Roxie’s eyes finally fell on the desk, where he had left the shop’s books open “You always make a habit of snooping ‘round people’s things?” Riff teased, a small smile playing on his lips.

She looked away quickly, a bit embarrassed. “Sorry.”

An awkward silence fell over the room.

“So… ya back in the neighborhood for a bit?” he dared to ask her then.

If Riff had known that his question would have gotten such an angry response from her, he would have kept his mouth shut. Roxie’s brows furrowed, and she glared at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Riff held up his hands defensively. “Just tryin’ to make pleasant conversation.”

“I think you forfeited the right to pleasantries when you decided you no longer wanted anything to do with me.”

That stung a bit, but Riff had known it was likely she’d still feel that way. He felt that guilt and doubt creeping up on him once again. “Forget I asked, then,” he snapped in response, his words coming out a bit more harshly than he had intended.

She said nothing. After another moment, Riff looked down at her, analyzing her thoughtfully.

He had seen her the other day, but that was at a distance. Part of him was still in disbelief that she was here, right in front of him. As Riff continued to look at her, he found himself subconsciously noting things. Her hair was longer now. He recognized the dress she was wearing. Even the angry expression she was giving him was oddly familiar.

Roxie noticed him staring. “What?” she questioned, sounding angry but also a bit self-conscious.

He snapped out of his thoughts and recovered quickly. “Nothin’.”

She sighed deeply, and looked up at him with a grave look in her eyes. “Take care of this, Riff,” she pleaded, her voice much quieter than before. She was putting on a strong front, but she every now and then, her composure had slipped. She was scared, he realized.

He nodded. “I will.”

Once, Riff had resigned himself to the fact that he’d likely never see her again. If he had known that wouldn’t be the case, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted the reunion to be under these circumstances. Despite this, Riff found himself recalling the last time he had ever had a conversation with Roxie. He realized with an odd sense of fondness of how she’d been yelling at him then, too.

Maybe this time, after he resolved the situation, the memory of his last conversation with her could be replaced with something more positive.

————————————————————————————

Diesel would’ve paid a pretty penny to be a fly on the wall to whatever conversation was going on in the apartment upstairs. Judging by the looks that the rest of the guys were exchanging with each other, they would have done the same.

When the door finally opened some time later, all eyes went up to the landing. Roxie was the first to exit the apartment, followed by Riff, who shut the door closed behind them.

As Roxie walked down the stairs, everyone watched her silently, but she didn’t meet any of their eyes. Everyone continued to watch as she walked past them through the garage and exited through the open garage door.

It was silent for a moment. Then, everyone’s eyes turned to Riff, who had remained in his spot on the landing. He’d been watching her leave, too. When he realized everyone was looking at him, he headed down the stairs as well. When he joined the rest of the guys, he immediately headed over towards Action.

“Can I talk to ya for a moment?” Riff asked Action quietly. Action nodded, and the two of them headed out the garage door as well.

Once the pair was out of sight, the rest of the guys exchanged knowing looks for a moment, before going back to business. Though, it was notably quieter than it had been before.

As Diesel resigned himself to try and focus on making some more headway on solving the transmission problem on the Chevrolet, he noticed Baby John lingering nearby.

Diesel spared him a brief glance as he began rummaging through a nearby toolbox. “Hey kid, something on your mind?”

Baby John nodded. “So… that girl, the same one I ran into last week?” the younger man began.

“Yeah?” Diesel prompted, smiling to himself as he figured where this was going.

Baby John looked a bit nervous as he contemplated how to phrase his question. “Were she and Riff ever…?”

Diesel found the wrench he had been searching for, and stood up straight, with a knowing smile. He looked towards the garage door, noting that neither Riff or Action had returned yet. His smile grew wider, and he shut the lid of the tool box with a small twitch of his foot. Kicking the toolbox lightly in Baby John’s direction, he advised, “It’s quite a tale, ya might wanna take a seat.”

Baby John sat down with another word.

“Come on, Diesel,” Mouthpiece warned, noting the wary look that Ice was giving him.

Diesel shrugged, and opened the hood of the Chevrolet.

“Riff only ever said we couldn’t associate with her no more,” Snowboy acknowledged, seeing where Diesel was going.

Diesel wasn’t sure where Riff stood on that issue currently, considering the additional knowledge he had on the subject, and what he and the rest of the guys just witnessed, but it wasn’t super relevant at that moment.

“My point exactly!” Diesel replied, smiling at Snowboy. “Has Riff ever said we couldn’t talk about it?” he asked the room, but while doing so, he looked at Ice specifically. Ice rolled his eyes disapprovingly in response.

Diesel looked at Mouthpiece. “Besides, you weren’t even there back in the day when she was. Ya tellin’ me you aren’t the least bit curious?” Diesel then gestured to Baby John, who was still seated on the toolbox nearby. “At least he’s upfront about it.”

Mouthpiece tilted his head thoughtfully.

“Make it quick,” Ice advised, relenting. “If Riff and Action come back and hear ya, ain’t none of us covering for your big mouth.

“Once upon a time,” Diesel began enthusiastically in a dramatic fashion, a playful twinkle in his eye.

Snowboy scoffed at his antics. “You better cut to the chase,” he suggested to Diesel, “or else you’re gonna lose your audience.”

As if to make a point, Baby John sat up straighter, clearly tired. “Huh?” he asked, realizing that everyone was looking at him. “Nah, I’m good,” he insisted quickly.

“Long story short,” Diesel corrected himself, looking pointedly at Snowboy, “Those two go way back.”

“How far back?” Mouthpiece asked then.

“When Riff and Tony started the Jets, she was around then,” Snowboy answered, coming to stand beside Diesel. He looked inquisitively underneath the hood of the Chevrolet, as if trying to diagnose the issue.

“So, she’s Riff’s old girlfriend?” Baby John proposed.

Diesel, Snowboy, and Ice broke into a fit of laughter.

Baby John frowned in confusion. “What?”

Once he regained his composure, Ice answered, “Riff never said that in so many words.”

“All we ever knew was that she was absolutely off limits,” Snowboy clarified, “and that she was his partner for every dance.”

“She used to be ‘round a lot,” Diesel recalled. “Before she left, she was always the one patchin’ us up and whatnot.”

“A-Rab mentioned she was ‘back’. Where’d she go?” Mouthpiece questioned.

“Like Action said the other week,” Snowboy replied, “She went to a fancy university on the other side of town. She was smart like that.”

“She helped me pass Algebra freshman year,” Gee-Tar reminisced, coming down the landing stairs to join the group. His hair was still disheveled from sleep.

“Didn’t you drop outta school the next semester?” Ice recollected, raising an eyebrow at him.

Gee-Tar shrugged. “Still passed it that year,” he muttered.

Baby John had been with the Jets for a very short amount of time, but already couldn’t imagine his life without them. Getting an education after high school wasn’t a very likely option for him. He was already concerned about his ability and decreasing motivation to finish high school, even though he knew that failing to do so would destroy his mother. But, even if he had an opportunity to continue his education, he doubted he’d be willing to make the decision to part from the Jets.

“Why’d she leave?” Baby John asked curiously.

He couldn’t have known about the complicated answer to his question, but thankfully, the guys were spared from formulating an answer when Action returned to the shop. Riff was not with him.

“Sorry, fellas,” Diesel said, smiling at Baby John and Mouthpiece apologetically. “That’s a story for another day.” He took another glance at Action, and added quietly, “Plus, you oughta form your own opinion on the matter.”

Ice nodded at Action. “Where’s Riff?”

“He’s gotta handle some business. You and me gotta head out now, too,” Action informed him. Then, to one in particular, Action added, “Riff asked you not to burn the place down ‘til he gets back.”

Diesel rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Why would I do that? I’d lose my place to sleep!”

“You could always crash at Velma’s,” Snowboy suggested, immediately ducking a punch Diesel threw at him.

————————————————————————————

The scouting Riff did throughout the day didn’t turn up anything. He checked all the old Egyptian Kings hangouts in the neighborhood that he could remember. There wasn’t a sign of them. It meant one of two things: either they were hiding very well, or that there weren't that many of them to be found.

If Riff ventured to guess, it was only one of them, and if that was true, he knew who it had to be.

“Are you sure this is where you’re supposed to meet?” Action asked.

They both stood huddled on a dark street corner. It normally would have been lit up, but the nearby streetlight had needed a new lightbulb for some months now.

This particular street corner’s closeness to the highway underpass just a bit aways made it the perfect vantage point. So far, no one was down there. If anyone showed up though, Riff and Action would be able to spot them immediately.

“Positive,” Riff confirmed, his eyes not leaving the underpass.

Action hadn’t turned up anything during his search during the day, and neither had Ice, which further confirmed Riff’s suspicions. “I asked Ice to make sure she gets home alright, like ya asked,” Action informed him neutrally. “Just in case this is a decoy.”

Riff mumbled a thanks, but he knew this wasn’t likely to be a trap. If he had thought that was the case, he would’ve had more Jets keeping an eye on Roxie than just Ice, but it was better than nothing in the worst case scenario.

Action pivoted, taking a look around the block. “I don’t like this, Riff,” he declared.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Riff replied dismissively, eyes still fixed on the underpass so that he wouldn’t miss any movement. “It’s just a meeting. I’ll see what he wants, and we can go from there.”

“We should’ve brought backup,” Action disagreed.

“We ain’t seen any of them around,” Riff reminded him patiently. “We can’t just come chargin’ in with the whole crew. We’d never find out what he wants. Not to mention, if a cop saw all of us versus one guy? We’d all get locked up.” Like Tony. “Trust me Action, if ya think it’s bad out here, I know for a fact it’s worse in there.”

Action said nothing further.

The sound of church bells rang through the air, signaling that it was midnight.

Right on que, Riff spotted some movement coming from the far end of the underpass. Without taking his eyes off of it, he reached back, and blindly smacked Action’s arm lightly in order to grab his attention. Action looked as well.

“I only see one,” he noted.

“Exactly.”

The figure began to look around, as if searching for someone.

Riff finally tore his eyes away from the underpass to look at Action. “Stay back,” he ordered him firmly. “Unless you see someone else movin’ in, I want you to stay put.”

He could tell Action was not thrilled by the idea, but he nodded in confirmation nonetheless. As Riff left Action to head down the block, he kept his eyes peeled, not wanting to miss something. His suspicions about who had called the meeting were confirmed when he entered the underpass and recognized who was waiting there for him.

“Asim.”

The former leader of the Egyptian Kings smiled at him politely. It had been almost a year since Riff had last seen him, but he looked the same.

“Riff,” Asim greeted him in a warm tone. It was a bit off-putting, considering the circumstances under which they had last met, but Riff decided to let it slide. “I see you found the place alright.”

Riff glanced around the underpass briefly. “Your note was lacking in detail,” he informed him. “But I figured it’d be here.”

The underpass is where the rumble with the Egyptian Kings went down. Riff glanced over to his left, recalling that that spot was about where he’d given Asim a black eye that night, and it was also where Asim had given him a broken nose in return. He then glanced over to his right, and recalled that that was about where Tony had almost beaten that one kid to death.

“You got my note, then?” Asim inquired in an odd tone. Riff knew that his question wasn’t quite what it seemed. Riff looked at him once again, noting the smile he was still wearing.

“Yeah,” Riff answered stiffly. “Ya couldn’t just come up to me, one on one?”

“When would I have had the opportunity? You’re always surrounded by your Jets. If I had approached you then, I would’ve been jumped on site.”

“So, you choose to follow a girl late at night instead?”

Asim nodded his head. “Yes. I was in the neighborhood visiting my friend and his family last week, and I thought I recognized her on the street. When I finally remembered where I recognized her from, I also remembered how you used to walk her home from the factory.”

Riff wasn’t aware that Asim, or anyone in the Egyptian Kings for that matter, had ever known about that. Riff had walked Roxie home from work merely as a precaution back then, but had never expected actual trouble. With this new information, part of him wondered what could have happened if he hadn’t. Then, he thought about how Tony walked Roxie home after Riff broke it off with her. He mentally added it to the long and seemingly ever-growing list of things to discuss and thank Tony for the next time he saw him.

“You should know that she ain’t associated with the Jets no more,” Riff stated candidly.

“Is that so?” Asim tilted his head, giving Riff a nearly remorseful look. “My apologies; I figured as much when I realized you are no longer her ‘guard dog’.”

Riff didn’t like the way Asim kept bringing Roxie up, but he knew losing his cool wouldn’t solve anything or do him any favors. Plus, if he got visibly irritated, he had a feeling that Action may jump the gun and join them, and there was no telling how Asim would react to that.

“Let’s say we skip the pleasantries,” Riff suggested bluntly. “What do ya want?”

“That friend of yours…?”

Riff knew immediately who he was referring to. “Tony.”

“Do you think Tony feels sorry about what he did?”

Riff wasn’t sure how to respond to that question. Tony was locked up for it- surely he regretted the fact that his actions led to that. But as for his conscience? Riff barely had the time or energy to think about his own conscience, let alone Tony’s.

“I will take your silence as my answer.”

“I don’t think he meant to take things that far,” Riff offered. It was the truth.

“But things did go that far, and my friend, Essam, almost lost his life,” Asim argued. “That’s who I visited last week.”

Riff listened, waiting to see where exactly Asim was going with this.

“Since last year, I’ve moved out of the neighborhood, I’ve got a job now, and I’ve got a nicer apartment than I ever had here,” Asim continued. “But I know where I came from. Thanks to you and your Jets, the Egyptian Kings are no more, but I still care about the well being of my brothers. Unlike me, Essam’s family wasn’t so lucky. After what happened to him, his family had no choice but to borrow money to pay for his medical bills. Your Tony wasn’t going to pay for them.”

Riff felt the anger in him starting to rise a bit, but he bit the inside of his cheek to try and keep it at bay. “Tony is in prison for it,” Riff reminded him heatedly.

“That’s how all you people think problems are solved,” Asim replied in disgust. “Just put the criminals in ‘time out’, and then everyone can move on, right? Wrong. Essam’s family borrowed from loan sharks. Guess who has come knocking?”

Riff had had a run in or two with a few loan sharks throughout the course of his life. They usually had ties to the more serious criminals… the ‘family’ of criminals. Whether the loan sharks were on the bottom rung of the organization or not, if they came to collect, you paid up, or suffered serious repercussions.

It was unfortunate, but Riff had problems of his own, namely, keeping the Jets safe and on top. “Well, like I said, Tony’s in prison,” Riff repeated. “What do ya expect me to do ‘bout it?”

��Essam’s family has been given a month to pay five hundred dollars. It’s taken me a week to track you down and meet with you, so I’ll give you two weeks to come up with it.”

Riff, despite the situation, found himself smiling in disbelief. “You’re tryin’ to shake me down for money?”

“I’m giving you an opportunity to make amends,” Asim corrected. “Do the right thing, Riff; get me the five hundred dollars, and you’ll never see me again.”

Riff still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And what happens if I don’t pay up?”

“I moved out of the neighborhood, but, like Essam, not all of us were so fortunate.” Asim sighed, though he didn’t seem particularly upset. “It would be a shame if the Egyptian Kings started causing trouble for you and your Jets, wouldn’t it?”

By this point, Riff was really starting to hate the way Asim was saying ‘Jets’. “We’ve beaten you once in a rumble, and we’d do it again,” he promised.

“Maybe,” Asim admitted. “But, I’ve heard some rumors. You Jets like to cause quite a stir. You’ve been making trouble for yourselves with the Puerto Ricans.”

Riff was starting to understand what Asim was suggesting, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“I’ve heard those people are particularly receptive to honesty,” Asim noted. “Perhaps the Jets would beat the Egyptian Kings in a rumble again. However, do you like your odds of beating the Egyptian Kings and the Sharks?”

Riff believed in the Jets with just about everything he had in him, and he trusted his guys with his life. Still, even he had to admit that the Jets’ odds of rallying against not one, but two rival gangs at the same time would likely to mean their downfall. Riff could tell guys the truth, and try to rally them to the cause. They’d likely support him without a second thought. But what kind of leader would he be if he knowingly led them into a losing battle?

“Fine,” Riff finally said, the inside of his cheek finally becoming raw as he continued to bite it out of anger. “I’ll pay you.”

“Wise decision,” Asim praised.

“No more involving the girl,” Riff demanded, recalling Roxie and the reason he’d even known about the meeting. “We agreed long ago that the women stay outta this.”

“I did agree to that,” Asim admitted. “But that was foolish, and impossible. Was Essam’s mother left out of our affairs when she sat by his hospital bed for days on end, unsure of whether her son would live to see the next day? Was Essam’s little sister uninvolved when she saw his face beaten to a pulp, and wondered if she would ever be able to physically recognize her brother again?”

These were factors that Riff had never really considered. Most of the Jets’ family lives were comparable to garbage. Drunk father, junkie mother, dead parents altogether- you name it, at least one of them had it. The fact that Essam had a mother and sister who also suffered as a result of Tony’s, but more broadly, the Jets’, actions didn’t sit too well with him. That had never been the plan. Riff didn’t know them, but he could pretty safely assume that they didn’t deserve what Asim was describing, if Asim was telling him the truth..

“I’ll meet you here again in two weeks from today, at the same time,” Asim said then. “Bring the money, Riff. Don’t let another innocent girl suffer the consequences of the Jets’ actions.”

Riff was angry, and he knew Asim was taking too much joy in this. Still, there was something about Asim’s tone that made him want to believe that he didn’t want to involve Roxie. However, Riff knew Asim, and considering his personal stake in the issue and how much effort he had already put in to meet with him, Riff knew he wouldn’t be deterred from playing dirty this time.

“After all, fair is fair,” Asim finished. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

————————————————————————————

The next morning, Roxie was in her bedroom, finally getting around to unpacking the last of her bags. She was determined to find just about anything to do in order to take her mind off the ominous note she received. That, and the fact that she had seen Riff again for the first time in over a year.

Seeing him again stirred up all kinds of feelings she had believed were dead and buried. The possibility that they still existed was worrisome, and it frustrated her.

One of the bags contained her various papers and other materials from the past two semesters. Roxie had been avoiding opening that one in particular since she knew it would sour her mood. However, given that she was already in a bad mood, she decided that there wouldn’t be a better opportunity. The first item in the bag was the letter she received regarding the final status of her scholarship. She sighed, wondering if she would have a more difficult time than she had originally thought.

Roxie set the letter on her bed, and turned to head towards the kitchen for a drink. As she opened her door, she heard an odd tapping. She glanced at the door, looking for some part of the frame that may have been loose. Then, she heard the tapping again. She turned around, looking for the source.

It was coming from the window. Against her better judgment, she walked over to it, and withdrew the curtains.

It was Riff, on her fire escape, tapping away on the glass.

Roxie frowned at him. She unlocked and opened the window quickly, before stepping aside and allowing him to climb through. Once he was inside the room, she shut the window.

Turning to Riff, she demanded, “How did you even know what fire escape was outside my window?”

“Velma told me what unit,” he answered simply, looking around the room. “It was just some simple math, sweetheart.”

Hearing him call her that also stirred up feelings, which bothered her even more. She chose to ignore it. “I have a front door, you know.”

He shrugged, still walking around the room and looking at her belongings with mild interest. “Velma mentioned you had a roommate. I didn’t know if she was in.”

“She’s at work,” Roxie informed him. She looked at him, noting the dark circles under his eyes immediately. “You look like hell,” she observed.

Riff finally paused, and looked down at her. “Thanks,” he deadpanned. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Ya know, I thought you’d wanna know about the meeting, but maybe I should just go.” As he moved to walk past her and back to the window, Roxie reached out to stop him, and her fingers wrapped around his wrist.

He froze, and she released her grip immediately. “No, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. As Riff turned to face her once again, she asked, “It was Asim, wasn’t it?”

Riff nodded, but said nothing.

“What did he want?”

“What does everyone in this neighborhood want?” he asked rhetorically. “He wants money.”

Roxie laughed humorlessly. “We all want money. He can get in line.”

Riff was silent.

Roxie furrowed her brows, confused by his lack of response. “You’re not going to pay him, are you?”

“I don’t have a choice,” he replied, walking over to the window. He placed his palms on the frame for support as he leaned over and looked out the glass. “The Jets can’t have the Egyptian Kings and the Sharks comin’ at us at once. If I don’t pay up, that’s exactly what’ll happen.”

“Sounds like you shouldn’t have started problems with the Sharks,” Roxie commented. Riff said nothing in response. “How much does he want? Surely you’ve got some money from the auto shop saved up.”

Riff laughed once, but it was humorless. He pushed off the window frame, and stood straight once again. He turned to face her, a joyless expression on his face. “Roxie, I know you saw the books yesterday,” he informed her. “The shop’s in the red.”

That’s what it looked like when she caught a glance of them on his desk, but she didn’t want to believe it. “How much does he want?” she asked again.

“I already told ya too much.”

“Don’t do that,” Roxie snapped suddenly. Upon her response, he watched her carefully, his cool blue eyes focusing on her. “Don’t shut me out again,” she clarified, her tone noticeably gentler. “I’m already involved. I deserve to know what’s going on.”

Riff knew she was right. “You’re more involved than ya know,” he admitted quietly.

She knew almost immediately what he meant. “He was the one who followed me home, wasn’t he?”

Riff nodded slowly.

“How much?” she repeated a third time.

“Five hundred.”

Roxie cursed under her breath. That was almost an entire semester’s worth of tuition. She ran a hand through her hair. “There has to be some way to come up with the money,” she insisted.

“Well, if ya got any ideas, I’m all ears,” Riff told her. After a moment, he added, “Short of robbin’ a bank, that is.”

Despite the tension, Roxie chuckled. “Glad to see you still have some standards,” she teased quietly.

Riff gave her a small smile.

A silence fell over the room.

Riff withdrew a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Do ya mind?”

Roxie shook her head, and took a step around him to open the window. She watched as he took out a cigarette and lit it. Riff noticed her staring, and held the pack out to her as an offering. She took one, giving him a small, gracious smile.

As he lit the cigarette for her, her eyes glazed over him without her realizing it. The bracelet that had once belonged to his mother was still clasped on the wrist of his hand that held the lighter. Her eyes shifted upwards, and she noted the pendant that he’d always worn was still around his neck, though it was mostly hidden underneath his shirt. Her eyes traveled even further up, and she found herself staring as his cool blue eyes focused on the task at hand.

For a few minutes, it was quiet as the pair smoked their cigarettes, taking turns flicking the ashes out the window and onto the fire escape.

“I almost forgot the taste,” Roxie commented conversationally, looking out the window.

Riff looked down at her, slightly confused by her odd remark. “Yeah? When’s the last time ya smoked?”

Roxie exhaled the smoke thoughtfully, her eyes still fixed on something in the distance. “Well, the last time would have been with you, so…”

It was true. Smoking was allowed on campus, but her particular dorm had a policy against it due to a few of the resident’s smoke allergies. The closest convenience store was still a bit aways from campus. Finally, she realized how expensive everything was. Food and other personal items took priority over cigarettes fairly quickly.

Another silence fell over the pair.

“I’m sorry ‘bout your aunt.”

The sincerity in Riff’s tone finally broke Roxie from her trance, and she looked up at him in disbelief. “You hated her,” she accused, not understanding his sentiment.

“Maybe. But you didn’t.”

Roxie realized he was right. Her aunt had done some awful things over the years. She’d talked about Riff, Tony, and all the other Jets poorly, and treated them terribly in person whenever the opportunity had presented itself. On the other hand, her aunt had been the one to take her in when her mother died, and she had single handedly spared her having to live the remainder of her childhood in an orphanage. Her aunt had forced her to study hard and keep her grades up. Her aunt had made sure that she had an opportunity to get out of the neighborhood and make a better life for herself. Though her methods were extremely questionable, it was hard to fault her reasoning behind her actions and behaviors.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, looking away from his gaze.

“You’re not just here to wrap up her affairs, are ya?” Riff guessed.

Roxie hesitated. She knew he didn’t deserve to know the extent of her problems, especially with how he had treated her. On the other hand, he’d been nothing but honest with her so far. Did he deserve the same courtesy?

Eventually, she shook her head. These were extenuating circumstances.

“Why are you here?” He’d almost been afraid to ask, given how she reacted the previous day, but she seemed a bit more open to talking about it now.

Roxie gestured to her bed, where the letter from the Board of Trustees member laid. “Money problems,” she said simply, though with a hint of bitterness, “just like everyone else.”

Riff took her lead, walked over to the bed, and picked up the letter. As he read it, Roxie looked away once again, almost nervous to watch his reaction. She took another drag of her cigarette and flicked more ashes out the window.

Riff placed the letter back on the bed a moment later, and then rejoined Roxie by the window. He took a drag himself, and exhaled. He looked deep in thought, but said nothing.

“You don’t have anything to say?” she pried. She thought he would have had something to say in response, even if it was sarcastic.

“I got money problems,” Riff stated plainly.

Roxie shot him a confused look. “...Yes?”

“You got money problems.”

“Yes.”

Riff finally looked at her with a serious expression. Riff had always had the capacity to be serious, she’d seen it before. But more often than not, his typical demeanor was cool and collected. Seeing him act so serious was a bit of a shock, and it intrigued her.

“I know a way we can both make money,” he stated.

Roxie looked at him with wide eyes. “Really?” she asked. “How?”

He said nothing, but looked at her pointedly. She stared at him blankly for a few moments, trying to rack her brain for whatever he was trying to get her to realize.

Then it hit her.

“I can’t believe you,” she hissed, reaching through the window to quickly extinguish her cigarette on the brick outside.

Riff followed suit, watching as Roxie turned away from him and the window and began pacing.

“Is this some kind of joke to you?” she demanded, still not facing him.

“No.”

Roxie finally turned to face him, and she felt her face growing red as she grew angrier. “You want to get into that again?” She could hardly believe it, but with the look on his face, she could tell that he was serious. “No, absolutely not. It's too dangerous.”

“It’s the only way we can make money fast enough.”

Roxie sighed exasperatedly, throwing up her hands in anger. “Do you remember what happened to us the last time we got caught up in that? Or have you taken one too many hits to the head?” She knew the neighbors were likely to overhear them, but she was too furious to care.

“Ya think I don’t remember?” Riff challenged, his voice raising as well.

“Do you want me to refresh your memory?” she proposed in a falsely polite tone.

“I know damn well what happened!” Riff snapped, his anger finally getting the best of him. “I did a month in County for you, Roxie. I spent thirty days and thirty nights in a cold, lonely cell while you got to go home to a warm bed!”

“I never asked you to take the fall!” Roxie yelled back, angry tears forming in her eyes.

The anger that Riff felt quickly began to fade when he noticed her tears. He had opened his mouth to respond, but upon seeing the tears start to fall down her face, he shut it immediately. There was the guilt. Again.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” he recalled, his voice much quieter than before as he watched her quickly wipe the tears off her face.

When Roxie finally looked up at him, her eyes were still a bit watery. “Yeah…” She cleared her throat, and looked away once again. “I didn’t like the ending.” Roxie knew she may have been better off now, but that didn’t change how she felt about that night.

Riff sighed. He didn’t like how it had ended, either. But he knew admitting that now would serve no purpose. She was different now. He was different now. If one thing had remained the same, it was that she still deserved better than him and anything he’d be able to offer her. If there was a chance she could get out of this neighborhood again, he had to see it through. If it fixed his own problems in the process, even better.

“If I had known you were gonna get this upset, I wouldn’t have brought it up,” he admitted. “But this is the only way. I know you’re worried, but it’s not why we got caught last time. We could take extra steps, and be more careful. I still have the connections, I’d just need a few days to get a lead.”

Roxie sighed quietly, hesitating.

“Roxie, please.”

She finally looked back up at him, concern and uncertainty plain on her face.

“I know this is a lot,” Riff admitted, “but I need ya to trust me. This could solve both our problems. When it’s all said and done, ya can tell me to leave ya alone, and I swear on my Ma’s grave, you’ll never see me again.

There were so many thoughts going through Roxie’s head, but a moment of clarity allowed her to question if that’s what she would even want. Either way, she didn’t doubt his sincerity at that moment.

“Fine,” she relented, despite a deep nagging feeling reminding her about all the terrible ways this could end.

Riff nodded, satisfied with her response. “Alright,” he said, already thinking about the next steps in his mind. He glanced at the window, and then back at her. “I have to go take care of some things now,” he told her then.

Roxie said nothing, still lost in her thoughts.

“I’ll see ya tonight?” Riff asked then.

“Tonight?” Roxie repeated, confused.

“To walk ya home, after work,” he clarified, as if it was obvious.

She shook her head. “That’s really not necessary-”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

This caused her to pause. Roxie didn’t know if he remembered that he used to say those very same words to her, under situations almost exactly like this one. But she remembered.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Tonight.”

Riff looked at her one last time, and gave her a small smile. “This is gonna work out,” he assured her as he walked over to the window and opened it. “You’ll see. Soon you’ll be back at that university, hatin’ my guts once again.”

He played it off like a joke, but she didn’t know if that would ever be the case. She wanted to hate him, especially after how he chosen to end things with her, and she was angry with him now for a new reason altogether.

Still, she couldn’t deny that seeing and talking to him had made a small part of her happier than she ever would have expected. Hopefully, it was just satisfaction about her finally getting some closure. The cynic in her feared it was something else.

Roxie walked over to the window quietly. She watched as Riff climbed through it, onto the fire escape, and descended the stairs and railings with ease. It was a familiar scene. As she continued to watch him head down the alleyway and towards the street, she thought about the last time she had watched him walk away like this. He’d left through her window that night, too.

Maybe this time he would come back.

A/N: If you enjoyed and feel so inclined, please consider leaving a like. :) I’m going out of town at the end of this week, so if I’m unable to get a few chapters thrown together before hand, it may take me more than the typical 2-3 days for the next few parts. I’ll work on them getting them out as soon as a I can though, and as always, will link the next part when it’s available.

Part 7

Masterlist

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neragufetta · 3 months

Text

The following is a list of BNHA plot elements, in no specific order, that are still unresolved at current chapter (or, at least, that I consider unresolved).

This post is totally open to suggestion :D

I plan to update it whenever I feel ;)

Enjoy!

P.S. - Sooo, life happened and I couldn't find a moment to review my "open theories" list.

Since my last update (regarding chapter 405), we received pretty much a tremendous amount of new details and events. First of all, AFO actually died. Now, his death could mean that any theory about him is no longer on the table but I am not so sure, which is why you'll still find them listed.

Also, this post has become way longer that I planned it to be but it can't be helped, I have so much to say and so little time and ability to say it in an efficient (and grammarly correct) way.

Have fun!

***

Current last chapter:

412

HIGH PRIORITY:

1. How did Shigaraki solve to put Star and Stripe's quirk "New Order" under control? > Solved in vol. 34: New Order dissolved on itself but it caused Tenko to regain some level of consciousness > HOWEVER chapter 412 might suggest that the "New Order" plotline was not limited to free Tenko's counsciousness just a little bit but there could be more to it. Fan theories about what this plotline might be futher below.

3. Will Deku be able to reach Tenko?

4. Who is going to survive? At the moment I think these are the name at risk right now:

. Bakugo > confirmed alive in 403 . All Might > still alive in 404, confirmed alive in 405 . Toga . Dabi . Hawks . Endevour . Edgeshot > still alive in 405 . Fat Gum (399)

6. What is Ojiro's, Sato's and Sero's whereabout? (399)

7. What is Eraserhead, Present Mic and Kurogiri's whereabout?

...

OPTIONAL STUFF

3. Is this picture ever going to make sense?

5. Are we going to see Deku and Bakugo face each other one last time?

...

OPEN THEORIES (that I enjoy or consider interesting for some reason)

2. Decay is not Shimura Tenko's original quirk > Again, AFO's death in 410 might cross this one out but I'm still suspicious about the man in 235 that brought Tenko back home.

3. Shigaraki can actually take One for All quirk without Deku's will > confirmed in chapter 410, even though we still don't know how or why.

4. Deku is suppressing his emotions > Pikahlua wrote an amazing perfect explanation about this theory and I'm convinced they're right.

5. Two for one (alias One for all is passed on both Izuku & Katsuki) (404) > I think we can call this one discarded, for my understanding is that people thought this could be possible because of four factors:

.Bakugo and Izuku being both hinted as All Might successors, but this could just be meant as a symbolic Legacy instead of an actual quirk . All Might vestige in Bakugo's mind in chapter 362, which I get is still suspicious but I consider it not enough, at least right now . Second movie being labeled as canon, which is true but A. in the movie is also mentioned that OFA decided on its own to stay with Izuku and B. I just don't find sensible that such an important subplot is only mentioned outside the manga and C. if that was the case we should see Bakugo's vestige in Izuku's OFA world as well . Bakugo's sparks in 360. We now know that those parks were in fact Explosion's evolution.

6. AFO is (related to) the Luminescent baby (405) > I'm not a fan of this theory but the fact that AFO has been referred to as "glowing" three times in the recent chapters makes me wonder. > Confirmed in 407 and even though I said I was not a fan of this one, AFO stealing his quirk out of crave makes much more sense than and I love it.

7. Izuku will replace OFA with:

7a. His own personal quirk that, similarly to Yoichi's one, was so unformed to be practically useless but grew up thanks to OFA. 7a-i. If we believe the DFA theory, his quirk might be an evolution of AFO or OFA has always had the ability to take quirks but OFA's user never tried or even think it was possible.

7b.New Order (412) and it has to do with Star & Stripe arm

7c. Nothing, he'll go quirkless again. (This is the only one I actually like) 7c-i. But his use of OFA has already created a vestige in OFA and Kudoh is planning to let Shigaraki steal OFA in order to gain access to Tenko's memory and finally start to connect with is soul and therefore to save him. 7c-ii. But, following the empty glass/full glass theory, Shigaraki won't be able to keep it for too long, without facing problem (like the 4th dying of old age at 40).

8.OFA only transfer out of will, while hair or any other organic material just served to picture the passage in one's mind. > I've always thought it was illogic that Yoichi, without knowing it, was able to figure out that he could pass his quirk by letting someone ingest hair, blood or whatever. Like, he didn't know he had a quirk with such an ability in the first place, how could this be possible? It might only have happened (and from 408 we now know it indeed happened) by chance, because Yoichi wanted his brother to be stopped so much he instinctively activated his own quirk and the transfer occurred. Now, we know that: a. Kudoh has felt weird ever since AFO's assault, b. on that assault, Kudoh was running away while holding Y's hand, c. Yoichi was killed while they were running How is it possible that, in such a dire moment, Kudo ingested anything? I strongly believe he didn't and therefore, OFA can transfer only throuh will, no other element is required.

Ok, I'm exhausted and I'll go rest for a bit.

Bye!

#mha 412 #bnha 412 #bnha spoilers #bnha theories #mha spoilers #mha theories

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eunjidrabbles · 3 years

Note

Hi. Can I request for a very fluffy jennie scenario just cuddling all day? female reader here. Thank you!

Love language

(Okay so this is gonna be the last request that Imma post for the month of April. Imma be taking a short few days break from writing until somewhere along the first week of May where I can be refreshed and give ya’ll quality content again. Until then my ask box is still open for interactions and requests [although I probably will just be focusing on the Bittersweet series for May]. See ya’ll in a week or so and hope you enjoy!)

Word count: About 1.9k

A huff of warm air on your neck tickling you was what roused you awake. Cracking open an eye, you took a shaky deep breath before noticing the extra weight on your chest. Before you could even look down, arms tightened around your waist, soft thighs press closer onto yours and a mop of hazelnut hair was nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Chuckling slightly, you reached your hand around to gently pat the slumbering figure that was on you and to give a soft kiss onto her head. Hearing a little whine coming from her broke a smile on your face as you tried to crane your head as far as you could to see the peaceful sleeping expressions of your girlfriend. There were moments where she scrunched up her face slightly, as if disgruntled by something before she would go back to mumbling something incoherent to you. It was slightly amusing, but seeing as to how she was still resting on you, you couldn’t laugh, or the movements from when you chuckle would definitely wake her up.

Gently pressing kisses onto the top of her head again, you slowly wrapped your other arm around her, pulling her to lean more on you. Another grumpy whine escaped her lips as you traced hear features as softly as you could, admiring the relaxed state she is in. You were distracted enough to not even realize that a pair of eyes were open and studying you until your touch traced back up to push her fringe behind her ear.

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer, you know."

Openly chuckling now that she is awake, you cooed at her raspy wake up voice and gave a poke onto her cheeks. Jennie’s response was a cat eyed pout, waiting for you to do your usual morning greetings.

"Good morning to you too princess."

Beaming up happily to her favorite pet name, Jennie sat up sleepily and yawned as she stretched across your body, keeping you under her. Your hands find her sides quickly and even before you could get a good grip, Jennie started squirming with a squeal, fully knowing that you were about to start tickling her. Using a hand to support herself and the other to fend off your wandering hands, laughter and teasing coos were shared before the hand supporting herself up wobbled and Jennie let herself fall onto your body underneath her. Letting out a dramatic “Ooof” and pretending to be knocked out with a tongue sticking out the corner of your mouth by her sudden weight on you, Jennie let out an offended scoff before landing a few playful slaps on your arms and thigh with her other hand. Unable to keep up your dead act any longer, you laughed along as you squirmed under your girlfriend in an attempt to shift her off of you to stop the assault.

Managing to grab ahold of her hands after a few tries, you pulled them to your lips and looked her right in the eye to press little kisses along her knuckles as a blush bloomed across her face. Pulling her hand back and moving herself so she was back to her original position when she was asleep on your chest, she huffed. “You’re such a dork.”

Humming in agreement, you ran your hand through her hair as you glanced to the clock on the wall to check the time. Looking back down at the woman in your arms, you pinched her cheeks teasingly before her hands came up to slap yours away again and wrap themselves all around you. “I gotta go get ready to start the day, princess. Breakfast is waiting.” A loud whine is all you got a for a warning of disapproval and legs tangled with yours, along with the blankets that were shoved down to probably cool off during the night. An amused sound escaped your lips as you stared at your girlfriend’s pout deepening by the second the more you try to move out of her embrace.

“Are you not hungry?”

Small movements signaled to you that she shook her head and buried herself deeper into your sides. Sighing in defeat, you made yourself comfortable against the bed again while Jennie played her little game of peekaboo with you from your side and you gave a small peck to her forehead each time her cat like eyes meet yours and smiled silly. The timing between each peek became longer and longer until you realized that it had been a while since you heard a giggle from your side and came to the conclusion that your girlfriend probably fell back asleep. Shaking your head, you chuckled at the childish behavior exhibited to you, knowing you were the only one able to see this side of her past the fierce and intimidating exterior and closed your eyes.

The next time Jennie opened her eyes, an annoyed groan left her lips as she moved her hands around the cool empty space around her giving her an idea that you left her alone in the bed for a good period of time. Frowning as she pushed herself up once again, she looked at the clock showing that it was past noon. Giving an annoyed huff, she crossed her arms as she gave herself a few more moments to reorient herself from the extra few hours of sleep against the headboard of the bed. How could you, especially after such a sweet morning to leave your cute girlfriend alone and cold in bed?

Grumbling to herself, she failed to notice that you entered the bedroom silently with both your hands occupied and the soft pattering of Kuma’s feet as her puppy circled around you in hopes to get to a bite of the food you hold on the plates in your hands. You stopped by the doorway in amusement, hearing her grumble and decided to keep silent until Kuma barked to get his mother’s attention seeing as to how you were not willing to lower the food to feed him. When Jennie’s eyes met yours, she could clearly see the grin on your face letting her know that you’ve heard enough as you push yourself off the doorway and made your way towards her.

Offering out a plate as she crawled her way to the edge of the bed to sit, she took it and started happily munching on the sandwich you made. Putting your own plate on the bedside table, you picked up your own sandwiches with one hand and bent down to scoop Kuma up onto your lap with the other as you sat next to Jennie. While you silently ate your meal and occasionally pulling out pieces of ham for the eager pup seated on your lap, you looked over at the satisfied look your girlfriend gave along with the little happy hums and smiled at the simple reaction. When she returned the look questioningly with her head tilted, you shook your head once again and took the now empty plate from her hand to stack up with yours on the table. Opening her arms for Kuma to hop into, you watched as Jennie moved herself back into the center of the bed while cuddling with her fluffy companion. Noticing you staring, she flashed you a gummy smile and blew a kiss in your direction as thanks for the meal. Catching it, you brought it to your chest where your heart would be and flopped down next to the pair.

It took a while to find a comfortable position, but eventually Jennie found herself sitting back facing you between your legs as you cuddled her from behind, and she held Kuma in her arms as he napped. There was no rush of time for once, and the both of you took full advantage of it to just enjoy the quiet moments that you share. Leaning back into your shoulder, your girlfriend broke the silence. “Why does the sky look different everyday?”

Turning slightly to look at her for the sudden random question, you turned your attention to the napping dog, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. “I’ve heard stories, about how when someone passes on, they are given a chance to color the sky.”

“Why does spring come after winter?”

Humming to fill the silence, you can feel Jennie’s eyes were focused on you, expecting an answer. “I guess it’s mother nature’s way of saying that it takes time but life still goes on after a miserable season.” Scrunching your face, you turned to look at Jennie once again to gauge her reaction to your answers.

“Are we playing the one sided 20 questions today? Is that what it is?” Chuckling, you press a kiss to the top of her head as she continued staring at you. “I can hear the gears in your head turning, princess. Is there something you want to say?” Shaking her head as she once again rested her head in the crook of your neck, you nodded. “Alright, then just let me know if you get hungry again.”

Kuma ended up waking and abandoning the both of you to go play with his toys a couple hours of cuddling in bed after. Growls could be heard from both your stomachs before Jennie involuntarily allowed for you to move yourself off the bed and immediately attaching herself to your back in a hug as you both waddled your way into the kitchen. The restricted movements definitely made preparing for dinner harder, but the little pecks you received on your cheeks as you occasionally fed Jennie the cut ingredients over your shoulder was all you needed for encouragement to complete the meal.

The day spent was simple, with no real purpose but Jennie appreciated the downtime of just spending time with you even though you could probably have been doing something else. It made her value the fact that you chose her over everything else as priority. In a sense, she expected it to be an obligation seeing as to how she was always busy with her schedules and there was little time that you two can actually spend time with one another. It still made her little heart sing seeing how willing you were to dedicate all your time to her.

Watching as you collected all the plates on the dining table and brought it to the sink to begin washing up, she silently wondered, just what she did to deserve someone as loving as you are. Jennie knows, that everyone had different love languages, and that she isn’t easy to get along with or please, yet you stuck by her side giving her every piece of yourself that you could offer wholeheartedly. It struck a cord within her and she questioned if she was actually worthy enough for someone like you as she watched your back facing her while you washed the dishes. She gave you calls and messages whenever she could yes, but it didn’t feel enough for the amount of dedication you showed towards her. Yet once again, she has never heard you speak a word of it. You were always happy with her around. She has seen how your eyes lit up when you looked at her, and how everything she did; childish to many amused you, and you would even play along. That isn’t something most people could do. It was almost as if...

Jennie knew what it meant, no doubt. Standing up, from her seat, she shuffled her way to once again embrace you from your back. Jennie knew the answer, but she still had to hear you confirm it. However many times it took.

"You love me."

"Of course I do, Jennie."

That was more than enough to convince her.

#blackpink imagines #jennie imagines #jennie x reader #jennie fluff #I know its a fluff request but I can't help but throw a tiny bit of pain in there #long story short Jennie loves you #but feel that her way of showing her love isn't enough #compared to you at least #it's just some insecurities #hope ya'll enjoy

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mercityart · 2 years

Text

Here's a lil bit of background on some of my versions of the creepypasta/slenderverse characters!

Starting strong we have the Operator. It doesn't have one exact name, merely conforming and presenting itself to victims as they see fit. The Operator has also been called Slenderman, the tall man, faceless, the creator, Der Grossman, etc.

It is not of this plane of existence, in fact, it's unknown of it's true original origin. However, it's believed it's from "the ark". Noone truthfully fully knows what exactly the ark is, and very little is known about it. It is said that the Operators "proxies" have been in the ark before. This would likely explain the use of their masks and/or goggles.

The air on the ark is very much like that of being extremely high in altitude on our plane of existence. There is a large body of "water" at the very center of the ark, however... This isn't exactly water. The materials pulled from the water at the ark is hard to describe, it has the consistency of water at first but anything that is placed in it reacts similar to that of being stuck in tar. The substance also seems to almost be alive, reaching out small tendril like appendages and pulling it under. We can not identify what exactly it is made up of, the elements being entirely unknown to humans, however we can identify high levels of blood, mucus, and bone.

The Operator appears as though a extremely tall faceless humanoid at first however it's form changes frequently, seemingly unstable in our plane. It has tendrils that are all sorts of sizes and lengths. It is unknown how long these appendages can get though it seems that when removed they immediately take form of the "water" from the ark and a new one tales it's original place.

The Operators skin and "clothing" seem to be made up of the same appendages as the tendrils it produces giving it a bark like texture in appearance. However, these tendrils are simply hiding it's form from plain sight. The Operator does indeed have a face. In fact it has many.

It is unknown how to rid of this entity, and how to significantly hurt it for that matter, however it is known that when nearing the presence of a electronic device such as a radio or camera they will begin to malfunction and the Operator will avoid being around said objects for long.

We also are aware, thanks to Tim Wright, the Operator can't stand individuals being a certain distance near it, confrontation, and will immediately disappear upon physical contact with humans though the affects of inhuman creatures having contact is still unknown.

The Operator has chosen a peice of land to keep within our plane. Rosswood park in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. We do not know why it chose this area though it appears that it is not the only thing residing within it.

It is possible the Operator was drawn to this area due to a seemingly high level of energy surrounding the forest. It is fully capable of traveling wherever it desires it seems, though thankfully it seems to prefer staying within the forest.

For more information that is not stated please ask questions.

#mercityart #slenderverse #creepypasta #slenderversefanart #creepypastafanart #slenderman #the operator #S

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thedollface221b · 3 years

Text

A Touch Of Magic

Pairing - Younger Neville Griffin (Misdirection - Inside No 9)/Original female character (can be read as reader insert)

Rating - Explicit - Over 18s ONLY

Warnings - soft BDSM

Summary - You get a job working as an assistant for a young Magician, but you find yourself fiercely attracted to him. Can you keep your mind on the job, or will lust win out?

Dedicated to the amazing @barkilphedros-hat for being wonderful. I ❤ you!

I searched through all the available jobs pinned on the job centre noticeboard and sighed. Absolutely nothing, yet again. I was just about to give up when I noticed a small, type-written card in the far corner. It read:

“WANTED

Assistant to a young, up and coming Magician.

Must be flexible”

Beneath that, written in red pen as if an afterthought was, in brackets:

“(Both in hours AND body!!)”

Typewritten again for the following:

“Please call Neville Griffin for more details”

Below that were two numbers, which I presumed were his landline and his mobile phone.

Scribbling down the info in my notebook, I resolved to call this Neville Griffin later that day. I had absolutely no experience at being a magician’s assistant but I had always been fascinated by magic ever since I was a little girl, and I was always being teased by my lovers by how amazingly bendy I was in bed – so why not give it a go?

______

After a brief phone call where we spoke only to arrange a meeting place and a time - his warehouse at noon the next day - I was left to wonder what Neville might be like. I couldn’t help but pre-judge him, with a name like Neville he was bound to be a total nerd, or perhaps older than he was letting on. Still, he did have a nice voice...

Whatever, I needed the work and impressing him with my appearance could go a long way... even nerds liked pretty girls and you didn’t often see a plain magician’s assistant, so I needed to look my absolute best. I spent the rest of the evening exfoliating, shaving, deep conditioning my hair, and giving myself a mani-pedi and a facial in preparation for the following day.

Despite my best efforts I slept fitfully, nerves getting the better of me. Putting on a little extra concealer to hide any dark circles my sleepless night may have caused, I finished off my make-up with a pop of cherry-red lipstick. Something a little bit daring and sexy. It paired well with the knee length, floaty red summer dress I was wearing, its sweetheart neckline giving onlookers just a peek of my décolletage.

I arrived at the road the warehouse was situated on a few minutes early so I could scope the place out. ‘Number Nine', I read off the GPS directions on my phone. It was a fairly barren looking alley, the kind of place you’d see on police shows where murders or rapes had taken place. I double checked my bag for my pepper spray and my rape alarm. All set.

Taking a deep breath and fixing a smile in place, I knocked on the door. It took a minute before I heard the heavy, metallic clank of a lock sliding back and the creak of the door opening to finally reveal Neville Griffin.

Oh.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a young, ridiculously good looking guy. His long, brown hair - just reaching his chin - framed a classically handsome face. Azure-blue eyes hid behind wire-rimmed glasses, resting on a strong nose, and his lips were a delicate pink and looked deliciously plump and kissable. He was dressed in a dark blue hoodie worn partially zipped over a red t-shirt, black jeans and a pair of black converse All Stars. All clothes of a typical guy in his late 20s.

“Oh, hello.” he said, his forehead wrinkling in confusion as if he hadn’t expected to be interrupted.

“Hi? I spoke to you on the phone last night, I’m here about the...”

“Oh, the assistant job, of course.” He wiped his hand on his jeans even though it didn’t look particularly dirty. “I’m sorry I was working and lost track of time.”

He held out the hand and I took it. It was warm and soft, with several calluses on his fingers, likely from day after day of practicing card tricks. For a guy of relatively small statue – around 5ft 7 I guessed – and lean build, he had large hands and long, thick fingers. My pussy gave a small, involuntary throb at the thought of what those fingers could do if given the opportunity. His grip was firm and I idly wondered if he was one of those guys who looked slight but was actually deceptively strong. Fuck, I had to stop thinking like that and concentrate on the interview. This guy could potentially be my Boss, not a one-night stand.

“Do come in,” he nodded, standing aside to let me enter the warehouse. It was dark, despite the overhead lighting, and the entire place was cluttered with debris of various magic tricks, boxes, notebooks and unquantifiable detritus. I noticed a zigzag lady in the corner, and a very cool looking guillotine towards the back.

Neville guided us towards two old, shoddy-looking stools placed right in the middle of the room and indicated that I take a seat. I sat up straight, my knees together and my hands placed in my lap. I had read somewhere that it was how Royalty was taught to sit, and that it was supposed to make you look more elegant and sophisticated.

Neville threw himself down on the stool in front of me, our knees almost touching. I could feel the heat emanating from his body, smell his aftershave, which was a musky, woody scent and very sexy. Jesus, I had to stop thinking like that!! Concentrate!!

“OK,” he started, “First off, are you a fan of magic?”

“Oh yes,” I said honestly, “I’ve loved it since I was a little girl.”

From his nod and smile, I figured we were off to a good start. The rest of his questions were pretty easy to answer and we fell into a casual conversation rather than a formal interview. It was looking good.

“And just one more question,” he said finally. “Do you think you can drop ten pounds?”

The flat of my palm made a satisfying crack as it made contact with his cheekbone.

“No!” he cried, clutching at his reddening face. “You misunderstood. It’s because the spaces you have to squeeze yourself into are so tiny. You need to be as small as you can possibly get yourself, that’s all.” He rubbed at his cheek. “I think you look perfect as you are. I mean fine. I mean you look...” He stopped. The other side where I hadn’t slapped was turning red now too.

“Oh.” I dropped my head, kicking myself for losing such a great job in the dying minutes. Talk about clutching defeat from the jaws of victory. “I’m sorry.”

“It's fine.” He stood and offered me his hand again. I stood too and took it.

“Thank you for seeing me.”

“It was no problem. Well, almost no problem. Can you start on Saturday?” he asked, looking almost scared in case I slapped him again.

“You mean you want me?” I asked, shocked. I couldn’t believe that I had still got the job despite screwing up so heinously at the end.

“Yes, I want you. For the job!” he clarified. Together we walked to the door of the warehouse and he showed me out into the filthy alleyway. “Saturday at 4pm. Don’t be late.”

As the door shut behind me I did a little happy dance before setting off to catch my tube. I was going to be a magician’s assistant. What the actual fuck.

_____

I wasn’t really sure what to wear to my first day as a Magician's Assistant, so I just threw on what I normally wore to yoga. Skin-tight lilac leggings with a matching sports bra and a sloppy, cropped vest in baby pink. I chose ballet style trainers as I thought they’d have the most flexibility if I had to do anything particularly bendy. I covered it all with an oversized hoody to keep me relatively decent on the tube. I didn’t fancy having my ass groped by some greasy stranger.

The door to the warehouse was slightly ajar so I just knocked on it, called out a hello and let myself in, unzipping my hoody as I walked through the cluttered space. I tossed it over some boxes out of the way. I didn’t see Neville at first, until I spotted him kneeling beside the guillotine, tightening some screws. He looked good in his dark blue jeans and navy and white striped top and I took a moment to appreciate the view. He didn’t seem to notice me at first so I cleared my throat. Still nothing. I called his name again, louder this time and he jumped, looking up at me with wide eyes, scrambling to get up while simultaneously pulling earbuds from his ears.

“Sorry I didn’t see you... hear you come in.” he said, winding the cord of the earbuds around his phone and setting it on his desk beside him.

“I'm a few minutes early,” I said apologetically.

“No, it’s... fine,” he nodded. I noticed that he was still looking down at the phone he had placed on his desk. I wondered what was so important about it. Especially as it was switched off.

“I didn’t really know what to wear so I hope this is appropriate.” I indicated to my outfit and he gave me a quick glance before looking down again.

“It's fine,” he repeated. OK, so it was going to be like that. Still, if Neville was going to be weird and anti-social it was going to make it a lot easier to not be attracted to him.

“So what are we doing first?” I asked with fake brightness, trying to lighten the mood.

“First things first,” he tapped the table three times with his fingers and then finally deigned to look at me, “Your name. We need to change it.”

“What’s wrong with my name?” I asked indignantly, crossing my arms beneath my breasts. I knew this action would push them up slightly and make them more apparent but to be honest I wasn’t really caring about that at that particular moment. Neville, however, definitely seemed to notice as his eyes widened slightly before he realised himself and forced eye contact again.

“It’s not exactly showbiz, is it? You need something with a bit of spark, a bit of pizazz. So from now on, your name is Miss Ruby Jewel.” He moved his hand through the air as if performing some mystical action.

“Ruby Jewel? It sounds like a fucking porn star, no way!” I shook my head.

“Well, I was thinking more Bond Girl,” Neville sniffed haughtily. “Anyway it's too late now, I’ve already started designing the promotional material. You'll get used to it. Besides, it goes with my ideas for your costume.”

“Oh yes, I meant to ask, where do I get my costume? Is there some sort of dress shop that caters exclusively for Magician’s Assistants?” I enquired, half joking.

“Of course not, you silly girl!” he snapped.

I jumped. While I was shocked at his outburst, I was ashamed to say that a part of me found the dominance in his voice... kind of arousing. A shiver travelled up my spine and I felt my nipples start to harden against the soft fabric of my sports bra.

Oh please God let the two layers of my bra and vest be thick enough so my erect nipples don’t show through.

No such luck. I could see them poking out through my top like two tiny pebbles.

Neville cleared his throat and continued, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been working so many long hours trying to come up with new tricks... I just need something...” He trailed off and turned away for a moment before shaking his head and turning back to me with a smile, as if the previous moment hadn’t just happened.

“There’s a local seamstress who will make your costumes couture. Although we can only afford one for now. I’ve already sent her my design ideas and so I just have to get your measurements and email them to her and she can begin.”

My heart leapt into my throat and my legs almost gave out at hearing him say that. Surely that couldn’t be right. “I’m not going to her to be measured? Isn’t that standard?”

“Doing it this way will save us time and money,” he confirmed, already picking up the tape measure from his desk. “I think you’ll love your costume. It’s going to be ruby red and adorned with lots of sequins and jewels. And you will wear red lipstick like the one you had on during your interview, as that was...” He paused and swallowed hard. “Sufficient.”

“Does it have to be so... gaudy?” I asked, my nose wrinkling in distaste as he measured my height and my body length.

“We need you to be as bright and flashy as possible.” I quivered slightly as he fastened the tape around my waist. We were practically nose to nose, except he was looking down to read the numbers on the tape. I could smell his aftershave again but this time I was close enough to also smell his shampoo and his soap. He smelled clean, with that same woody, musky scent from before, but with a hint of coconut from the shampoo. Heady, sexy and inherently male.

My pussy was throbbing again, despite me telling myself that this was my Boss and nothing could ever happen. Unfortunately my body didn’t want to listen to my brain and continued to send signals of arousal south. I could feel myself getting wet already. Fuck, this was bad.

He whipped the tape away and stood back, and already I missed the heat from his body.

“The reason Magicians use beautiful female assistants in bright outfits,” he began, rolling up the tape, “is because we want the audience to be watching them here...” he waved his empty hand around in the air in front of me, “while the magic is happening over here!” He clicked the fingers of his other hand, then opened it to reveal that the tape had disappeared. “Classic misdirection.”

“I’m impressed!” I laughed, applauding. “OK so where is it?”

He leaned in and for a split second I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead he brought the tape out from behind my ear where it had supposedly been hiding. The disappointment of not being kissed must have shown on my face because he said “What, the old ‘behind the ear’ gag not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s great, really.” I faked a smile. “But we should get on, don’t you think?” I wanted this torture over with as soon as possible. Still, Neville had called me a ‘beautiful assistant’. That was something at least.

“Yes, quite right.” he agreed. “I just need to do your... ah... your top area.”

Wait, did he mean my bust? Was Neville really going to put that mother fucking tape around my breasts? Fuck!

Awkwardly he put his arms around me as I stood frozen to the spot like a statue, my arms stretched out wide either side of me like wings. I didn’t even dare breathe. After fumbling with and dropping the tape twice, he finally got it around the largest part of my breasts, touching the two parts of the tape together as quickly as he could. His knuckles brushed against my still painfully erect nipples so there was no possible way he couldn’t have noticed them. The movement was sending little zings of pleasure through me and I had to clamp my lips shut so as not to accidentally moan out loud.

I noticed that his hands were trembling and when his eyes met mine for a moment I could see how large and dilated his pupils were. Wait a minute... was it possible that he was finding this just as arousing as I was?

“OK, got that,” he mumbled, letting the tape drop to the floor and rushing over to his desk to jot down the details. “I’ll email those details to Sarah tonight and she can get started on your costume first thing tomorrow. I’ll give her your number and she can call you when she wants you to come in for a fitting.”

“Sounds good,” I said, eying up the bottle of whiskey sitting on Neville's desk. God I could really use a drink right now. But that wouldn’t be very professional and I was already walking a very thin tightrope there. Instead I went over to my bag, got my bottled water and took a long slug, hoping it would cool my ardour as well as my body.

The rest of the evening was spent explaining to me how most of his bigger tricks worked and what I would be expected to do as an assistant. I was actually quite excited to begin learning how to perform properly.

“We'll have our first proper rehearsal on Monday, but we’ll take it slow and I’ll just walk you through a few tricks to start with using the actual props,” Neville was saying as he walked me to the door. “Nothing too difficult at the beginning, maybe the zig zag lady, or I could saw you in half, show you the Rope escape...”

“That all sounds great. Well, bye then,” I waved, fighting the urge to grab him and kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, see you on Monday,” he smiled, and my stomach did a backflip.

______

I lay in bed that night thinking back to everything that had happened that evening. Remembering Neville’s touch, the way his knuckles brushed against my sensitive nipples, the intoxicating scent of him. Fucking hell, I was so aroused!! If I didn’t do something to take the edge off I would never sleep. Fumbling in my bedside cabinet I found a small bottle of lube and my trusty rampant rabbit vibrator.

I let my imagination run wild as I switched on the pink silicone device. I closed my eyes and pretended the long, thick dildo section was really Neville's cock as it stretched me open, and the tiny little ‘ears' buzzing rapidly against my clit and sending electric shocks of pleasure through me were really his fingers working me to orgasmic bliss. I recalled his domineering attitude from earlier and quickly made up a fantasy scenario in my head where I kept getting the trick wrong and he was shouting at me that he was going to have to punish me, that every time I made a mistake he was going to have to fuck me until I learned to get it right.

I came hard and fast, his name on my lips.

I felt dirty once the afterglow had worn off, and not the good kind. Neville was my employer and no matter how attracted to him I was, I shouldn’t be getting myself off thinking about him like that. Even if it was the best orgasm I’d had in a long time.

I turned over on my side and fell into a broken, troubled sleep, full of crazy dreams about being sawn in half, and Neville leaving me there, carrying the bottom half of the box away with my bottom half still inside it. OK, surely that had to be some sort of weird sex metaphor.

______

Monday came around quickly and I was back at the warehouse. Despite telling myself I wasn’t interested in impressing Neville, I had dressed in one of my cutest vest tops - a tight black ribbed number - and a short, ice-skater style skirt in a bright, ruby red fabric. It was probably totally impractical for what we would be doing but I figured I could always claim I was trying to match my new name if Neville made any comments about it.

As it turned out he simply gave me a quick glance up and down and then told me he was leaving to run a few errands but would be back soon, and that I should pick up a deck of cards and practice shuffling them while he was out.

After almost 45 minutes I got bored of shuffling and started to poke around the warehouse, snooping in drawers, looking through boxes, peeking in notebooks. Nothing was particularly interesting, until I opened the bottom drawer of his desk. There, hidden amongst papers and decks of cards, was a box of condoms, still unopened in its cellophane wrapper.

Why Neville, you sly dog.

Of course there was nothing to say the box was new. He could have bought them ages ago, stuffed them in there and forgotten about them. They could even be for some kind of trick. But maybe, just maybe, he had bought them since I arrived, and that could be confirmation that he liked me back.

I closed the drawer just in time as Neville came back into the warehouse. “What took you so long?” I pouted. “There’s only so much card shuffling a gal can do.”

“I do expect you to be fully proficient.” He grabbed the cards and shuffled them like I’d only ever seen Blackjack dealers in Casinos do, with lots of fancy cuts and flips. OK, so that was impressive.

“Can we start working on an actual magic trick now?” I wheedled, my hand in a light grip on his arm for that little extra peer pressure.

He was staring at where my fingers massaged the bare skin. It was unusual to see him without his hoody – I remembered he had left wearing it but now he was just in his black t-shirt and light blue Levis.

“Fine, let’s do the rope escape,” he said after a moment. I let go to allow him to cross the warehouse to get the correct prop he’d need. It was a large wooden X style cross about 6 foot in height and behind that was a slightly taller pole. At the top of that pole was another rectangular pole coming off it, rather like one that would hold a shower curtain. Only this pole held a thick, dark blue velvet curtain that could be raised and lowered at will.

“Let me explain how it works,” Neville began, wheeling the entire contraption into place. “You will stand in front of the cross and I will take the rope from where it is already tied off at the back here, loop it around one ankle, then the other, then up to your wrist, then the other, and then back down to tie it off tightly again. A member of the audience can come up to verify you’re securely fastened in.”

We moved around to the back. “But the secret is that this lever here can turn and give you just enough slack to get out. So the trick goes that I tie you up, I pull the curtain up, I twist this and free you and I climb in to take your place, you twist it back to tighten the ropes again and pull the curtain down to reveal that we’ve switched positions.”

He looked at me to make sure I was following. I nodded - it all seemed pretty simple.

“With practice we can get it down to a matter of seconds to make the switch.” He snapped his fingers on the word ‘seconds’ for extra emphasis.

“Can I try?” I asked.

“Of course,” he nodded, almost proudly, as if he was pleased to see that I was so keen. I lined myself up against the cross, both arms in the air and my legs open wide in an X shape. Neville expertly looped the rope around each limb, loosely to begin with. “Are you OK for me to tighten it?” he asked. I gave a quick nod of acquiescence and the rope immediately snapped tight against my wrists and ankles, causing me to let out an involuntary gasp. He tied it off at the back and came around to stand in front of me.

“How does it feel?” he enquired. I noticed his voice was gruffer than before. “Can you free yourself?”

I twisted against the nylon rope in vain. “No, I’m well and truly trapped.” I confirmed. There was nothing I could do to free myself. I was totally at Neville’s mercy. And oh fuck if the thought of that wasn’t a massive turn on. My clit throbbed, and I wondered if I dare push the envelope with Neville. If I was right about the condoms, he wanted something to happen between us and this might be the perfect opportunity to test the waters. But... if I was wrong, I could lose everything.

“I feel so vulnerable like this,” I said breathily, my voice dripping with submissiveness. “You could do absolutely anything to me and I couldn’t stop you.” I sucked in my bottom lip and looked up at him coyly through my lashes.

Neville let out a long, shaky breath and stepped towards me, placing his left hand on my hip.

“Anything?” he asked, his voice cracking a little. We both knew exactly what question was really being asked in that one little word.

“Anything... Sir.” I confirmed. And with that his entire demeanour shifted. Any trace of nerves were gone, and the dominant Neville I so fantasised about took over.

“Do you know the traffic light system?”

“I do,” I nodded. It was on.

His fingernails dug into the soft skin of my hip even through my skirt. I’d probably have bruises there later and I’d wear them like a badge of honour.

“I already had to take a very uncomfortable walk home this morning with my hoody tied around my waist to hide my hard-on, thanks to you coming into work dressed like a little whore,” he sneered at me. “I think we’re going to have to have a very serious talk about professionalism in the workplace.”

The hand that had been on my hip suddenly disappeared, only to reappear with a hard smack on the side of my buttock, the only part of my ass that was accessible. I gasped at the sharp sting and then moaned with arousal as the flesh burned. Another smack, only this time he slipped his hand under my skirt and groped at the still-smarting globe of muscle over the satin of my underwear.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” I moaned, wishing that I could cross my legs and put some pressure on my almost painfully throbbing clit. But I was still bound and completely at Neville’s mercy.

He stared at me, eyes fiery, licking his lips like a wolf licking its chops before devouring its kill. He obviously enjoyed me calling him Sir, the light blue of his tight jeans doing nothing to hide the thickening outline by the inseam of his right thigh.

He must have noticed me staring at his hardening cock, as he palmed at it with his right hand, admitting, “I already came once today thanks to you, you little slut.”

“Yes Sir,” I gasped, trying to push my pelvis forward to give him more access to my ass, his fingers kneading into the hot flesh. But I needed more!

He moved behind me and I could hear him searching through the drawers. “The good thing about being a magician,” he smirked, coming towards me with a small pair of scissors, “is that I can make anything disappear.” He reached up beneath my skirt and with two simple snips my underwear came away in his hand. He slipped the scraps of black satin and lace into his jeans pocket.

Because I still had my skirt on I wasn’t actually exposed, but because of my stance, my legs spread open so wide, I felt more naked than I ever had.

“This too.” He placed the scissors at the bottom of my vest and slowly began cutting. I protested at first but that earned me another spank.

“Sorry Sir,” I apologised. Just knowing that I was completely under his control was making me so aroused that I could actually feel my wetness begin to drip down my thighs. He cut the vest away completely, leaving me in just my sports bra and tiny skirt. At least the bra zipped at the front so he wouldn’t have to cut that.

He set the scissors and fabric scraps on the desk and came back to stand before me, eying me hungrily. “Please Sir,” I moaned. “Touch me.”

Agonisingly slowly he clicked the zip on my bra down, tooth by tooth as I writhed against the ropes. Finally my top was completely open, and he took one of my hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hot, pebbled skin. His hand massaged the other breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I groaned at being touched at last, my hands clenching in empty fists as lightning bolts of pleasure ran through my body.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the skin of my chest as his free hand found its way to my upper thigh. He rested it there for a moment and I whimpered, desperate for him to touch me more intimately.

“When I’m ready,” he scolded, biting my nipple as punishment.

“Yes, Neville.” He looked up at me through his impossibly long lashes with an angry look on his face, and I knew exactly what mistake I’d made. “I mean Yes Sir, I’m sorry Sir,” I gasped out, feeling my whole body flushing with arousal.

“Good girl,” he purred.

Torturously slowly, his fore and middle fingers traced a line across the smooth skin of my upper thigh, up under my skirt and then dipped down into the crease of my hip. He explored further still until he came to the delicate fold between my thigh and outer lip, where my juices had already dripped down.

“God, you’re soaked!” He sounded astonished that I could be so wet only from what we had done so far.

All I could do was moan in agreement, straining to try and force his fingers to slip closer to my clit. Thankfully he didn’t make me wait any longer and slid the two fingers either side of my dripping hole, collecting as much of my fluids on his thick digits as he could while still avoiding entering me, before at last rubbing his fingertips over that hot little bundle of nerves at my core.

I jerked and cried out at finally being touched.

“Easy, baby,” he cooed in a voice one might use to soothe a startled horse, all the while still rubbing circles on my clit. “I’ve got you.”

The ‘fuck’ that slipped out of my mouth was practically a sob. Neville really did have magic hands and I could already feel the beginnings of an orgasm building deep inside me.

It was killing me that I couldn’t reach out and run my fingers through his hair, but being tied up was turning me on more than I could have ever imagined it would.

“So fucking wet...” Neville moaned into my neck as he kissed down it, and I gasped as he suddenly pushed both fingers into my pussy without warning. The hot stretch of it felt so amazing and I just wished I could clamp my legs around him and grind into it. As it was I tried to tighten my muscles around him as much as I could. His thumb continued to work my clit and the tight ball of electricity started to grow deep in my stomach. Fuck, I was close.

“Gonna cum,” I gasped.

The thumb withdrew. I groaned in frustration and displeasure. I had been so close!

“You cum when I say so, babygirl.” he said assertively, biting and sucking at my collarbone as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of me.

Finally the thumb returned and my pleasure built to a crescendo again. I couldn’t help myself, I moaned out, “Please Sir, let me cum!”

“As you asked so nicely,” he smirked. “Cum for me.”

I closed my eyes and allowed the white heat of my orgasm to overwhelm me, crying out as the waves of pleasure flooded through me, over and over and over.

Finally I blinked my eyes open, my body heavy and satiated. He was holding me up, as my legs could not do it for themselves and he didn’t want the rope to cut into my wrists. Reaching around behind me he pulled the lever to loosen the ropes and helped me to step out of the bindings, as I was wobbling like a new-born deer. Then he lifted me up and carried me to an old chaise lounge in the corner with half its stuffing missing.

“Are you OK?” he asked, checking my wrists and ankles for chafing. Thankfully there was none.

“I’m fine,” I answered honestly. “But what about you?” I nodded towards his crotch, where his very obvious erection was still waiting to be taken care of.

Once he knew I wasn’t hurt, dominant Neville came out to play again.

“Oh my sweet little babygirl, don’t worry,” he smiled, “I fully intend to take you.” He grabbed me by the neck to pull me into a deep kiss. I realised that despite him just giving me the most amazing orgasm, this was actually the first time we had kissed! His powerful tongue probed against mine, his hands roaming over my mostly naked body. Finally, with my own hands free I could touch everywhere I wanted to. They raked through his hair, across his back, cupping his tight buttocks. I was in heaven.

He stopped the kiss after a few minutes and stood up to pull off his T-shirt and jeans, while I slipped out of my last remaining pieces of clothing. I lay back and admired the view in front of me, this beautiful man all mine, his huge cock erect and already leaking pre-cum just for me.

He leaned down to kiss me again and then with one hand flat on my chest, forced me to lie back on to the chaise lounge. Both of us were now fully naked, our bodies shining in the dim light of the warehouse.

He reached down into the back pocket of his discarded jeans and pulled out a condom that he must have stashed there earlier when he was getting the scissors.

“Ready?” he asked, tearing open the foil and carefully rolling the prophylactic down his thick shaft.

“Yes Sir, please take me. I need you.”

His beautifully reddened, kiss-bitten lips twisted into a satisfied smile and he laid his full bodyweight on top of me, the blunt head of his cock resting against my dripping entrance. He teased me for a moment by circling the flushed cockhead around the hole before finally breaching my tightness, just with the tip at first. I let out a long, low moan at the delicious stretch and wrapped my legs around his back, trying to force him into me more quickly.

“Ah ah ah!” he scolded, his left hand flying to my neck. He squeezed lightly in punishment, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle so I didn’t need to use any of the safe words. “At my pace, little Princess.”

I kept my legs around his waist but I ceased any attempts to pull him closer. I threw my head back and mewled as he finally started to push himself in fully, enjoying that deep burning sensation of being completely filled. He bottomed out and began to thrust slowly inside me, drawing himself all the way out to the tip and then sliding back in again.

It was like sweet, divine torture. He obviously had no intention of rushing this, each stroke brushing against my G spot just enough to start building my orgasm but not enough to actually make me cum.

He kissed and nibbled at my throat, working his way up my neck to suckle on my earlobes which made me shiver with delight. I could feel my skin prickle with goosebumps as his tongue worked its way down again, finally ending up at my breasts. My nipples hardened in response and he sucked one into his mouth, his warm saliva leaving a trailed string from the pebbled skin to his bottom lip for a moment when he pulled away.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him down to kiss me again, and as we kissed his thrusts began to speed up. We moaned into each other’s mouths, the arousal building for both of us. He reached down between our writhing bodies and started to finger my clitoris again, and I groaned loudly as immense pleasure overtook me. Neville was grunting with the effort of fucking me now, his thrusts growing more frantic and erratic.

My second orgasm was building, the tight knot of pleasure in my core growing as Neville’s cock brushed my G spot with every stroke, and his fingers expertly worked my clit.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” I announced, my eyes fluttering closed, stars behind them in my vision.

“That’s it, cum for me my good girl,” he praised. “So fucking beautiful.”

I let the orgasm wash over me, pure pleasure spiking every nerve in my body until everything turned white and I shuddered in Neville’s arms.

“Jesus, uh, fuck,” Neville groaned, and I felt him stiffen, then he too shuddered as he came inside me, his cock twitching as he unloaded into the condom. After a moment he collapsed on top of me, completely spent.

We lay there for a few moments until the chill made me shiver. Neville stood up and turned away to dispose of the condom, seemingly embarrassed for me to see him do the ‘clean up’. Then he grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge and a blanket that had been thrown over some boxes in the corner, and came back to the chaise lounge, throwing the blanket over the both of us.

“Are you OK?” he asked me, handing me the water. I took it gratefully and took a long drink. He did likewise and then set the bottle aside.

“I am,” I smiled, snuggling into his arms. Even though the dominant Neville was a huge turn-on, I was glad that he knew how to do the aftercare as well. “So what does this mean for us?” I asked, even though I was terrified of the answer. “Was this a one-off, or...”

“No!” he said, a little to quickly and loudly. “I mean, if you want us to... I’d like... do you want to go out? I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

“Same,” I smiled, relieved that he wasn’t just using me as a one night stand. I wanted to be with Neville. He seemed like a really nice guy, and they had been few and far between lately.

“So do you actually want to go out with me?” I asked, reaching a hand up to curl it affectionately through his hair.

“I do,” he confirmed.

“So... a proper date,” I mused. “How about tomorrow night?”

“That sounds great,” he smiled, taking the hand that had been in his hair and kissing it. “Oh, but I’ll have to take a rain check I’m afraid. I’ve got a magician coming round tomorrow night to show me a trick I’m interested in buying.”

“Oh right,” I replied, feeling a little bit annoyed, but understanding that work needed to come first. “Who’s the Magician?”

“Some old guy called Willy Wando,” he said. “But it probably won’t come to anything.”

Even if Neville didn’t hold out much hope, I had a funny feeling this trick was going to change his life.

#reece shearsmith #inside no 9 #Misdirection #smut #tied up #Neville Griffin #magic daddy #original female character #magic

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