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pixiiipie · 5 days

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Since your my only hope for sub zayne stuff. If you have any spare time could you write a dom to sub fic? please🙇‍♂️. I love your content

jealous boy

awww i’m so honoured i’m just a single mom supporting all my kids <3 and thank youu! i rly like dom-> sub things but writing it is a whole other story 😵‍💫 writing dom character things are rly hard i dont wanna make it actually awful. hope you like my attempt <333

authors note!: the dom part of this is very small and mostly just body language and some not super sexual things. just zayne being possessive and jealous but we soon sort him out. mostly comforting him. i don’t really like this… i promise i can write things that aren’t sickly sweet!!

it was very rare for zayne to have a day off let alone a whole weekend. he committed himself fully to his work but even though they rely a little too much on him, his colleagues (and you) insisted that he took some time off. to help him completely forget about his ‘abandoned duty’, you treated him with days out and simple moments of intimacy to reward him.

on one of these days, you took him to a bakery to pick out any dessert he wished to enjoy in the park. although it took some time for him to allow you to spoil him like this, he happily pointed out a few treats for the both of you (though he was quick to repay you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers-of course he knows-intimately arranged on your way home). it was a lovely warm day and it felt warmer with every longing gaze zayne looked at you with. he’d never been as happy as he was in that moment.

after your long day, you both decided to stay in and enjoy a home cooked meal in each others company (the flowers weren’t enough and zayne really wanted to treat you to your favourite restaurant but you managed to push him home instead- it was his day! you were spoiling him!). cooking together was a shared activity that you and him tried to do as often as you could. making something for both of you to enjoy and feel proud of as you danced around each other was a perfect way to end any day.

however, this time it felt a little different. instead of his usual actions where he would occasionally come over to press kisses to your head as you chopped vegetables, he barely left you unsupervised and would (a little too tightly) hold you by the waist occasionally brushing his fingers over any bare skin he could reach. noticing this, you tried to bring it up with him whenever he did something like this but zayne was too good at remaining in control of his tone and brushed it off. even if he didn’t give it away with his responses, you knew him and could tell something was up.

you planned to talk to him about this over dinner where you could watch him without being distracted. hopefully things didn’t turn sour and ruin what was a beautiful day with him. since you were still trying to spoil him, you insisted for him to sit at the table and you’ll dish up and bring the food over. obediently, he does so but his demeanour is making you a little uneasy. you’ve dealt with many of his different emotions and are stating to be able to tell how he’s feeling even if it’s not obvious to others but this was new.

as you set his plate down in front of him, he pulled you onto his lap in one quick motion and kissed you. this took you off guard since although you’ve been trying to get him to open up to you and act with more confidence, this was a first. it was difficult to gain control of the kiss but he soon stopped as you lightly hit his back. “zayne what is it? what’s the matter?” you asked unintentionally avoiding pet names in your confusion and slight annoyance. he didn’t answer and instead focused on peppering kisses down your neck before sucking a prominent mark in the most sensitive place (god damn doctor).

while he did this, one hand stayed wrapped around your waist while the other firmly held onto your thigh rubbing small circles with his thumb. you’ve cuddled like this before either casually or to comfort one of you but never like this. never in such a possessive way. he didn’t do anything more than this- even if he was lost in this sudden possessive mood, he would never go further and overstep your boundaries.“you’re mine” he breathed into the crook of your neck. the words felt unnatural coming from him. “and i am yours” that felt better. it didn’t seem like zayne said this to you but more to himself as an affirmation.

his initial possessiveness was becoming desperation and it hurt your heart to see him like this. just as he was about to make another mark, you stopped him by cupping his face with your hand and tilting his head up to look at you. “zayne. my darling what’s bothering you?” your voice was stern but softened when he avoided eye contact. you kissed his forehead to coax a response from him worrying that he was embarrassed or ashamed of himself.

“you’re so beautiful” he whispered so quietly that if all your attention was not on him, you would’ve missed it. as a reward, you kissed his temple and waited for him to feel ready to continue. “i apologise for… that. i don’t know what came over me.” taking a deep breath, zayne took his hands off you and let them hang by his sides but you were quick to take one before it dropped and held it. as he spoke to you, you intertwined your fingers and traced lines over it to steady him.

“everywhere we went today,” he started but unsure where to look, “people were staring at you. that’s very natural as you are… so beautiful but they were friendly to you and likewise you were back.” you half understood what he was saying but the last part threw you. you squeezed his hand to encourage him to continue. “this is very childish of me but i think i was jealous of how well you get along with people and how they look at you. i… i didn’t want you to forget about me.”

ah so that’s what it was. usually when he’s jealous, he owns up to it in a “yes i was jealous, so what?” or “i was not jealous.” way but his entire demeanour was different. he didn’t feel sour, just sad.

“my darling zayne,” you say, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles which made him look at you, “you kiss are a very kiss silly man.” a fond expression crossed your face to help him understand that you weee teasing. “you said it earlier you are mine.”

“i am yours.” he finishes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. zayne let his head fall against yours and breathed deeply. you were the biggest comfort to him in every way. “besides, everyone in the hospital looks at you like you’re god incarnate! they can’t help but sing your praises.” you say rubbing his back.

“they’re not you though.” zayne says. that was the sweetest thing about him. people would flock over him and admire him but nothing they said would ever come close to how warm you made him feel with a simple word. finally moving his other hand, he gently took your face and allowed you to close the gap between you both. kissing always felt better when you took the lead. kissing always felt better when it was with you.

taking this opportunity to straddle him, you return the favour and kiss a trail down to his neck to mark him up. zayne keeps a softer hold on your waist and tries his hardest not to move as you kissed and bit all over his neck. no matter how hard he tried though, trying to suppress his soft whines became more difficult the more you continued.

“there. now you know i’m not lying.” you say, sitting back to admire your work. zayne’s entire figure was struggling to not slump over as he gazed at you through half-lidded eyes. those eyes were a stark contrast from the look he gave you a few minuets ago. you knew what that face was. “use your words darling. what do you need?” you whisper with a smirk taking his chin to look at you.

“you” was all he could muster and all he could think of.

“cute. that’s my good boy.” you say leaning close to his ear as your hands unbuttoned his trousers. “how’s this, my love?” zayne nodded, carefully rubbing your waist and back too embarrassed to speak. just as you managed to free his dick, you move some of his hair out of his face and ask, “what would you like?” blowing a little cold air towards it to make him twitch.

“mmn just your hand please. i’d like to kiss you more.” zayne replies. all he wants right now is to be close to you and be reminded that here, in this universe, in this lifetime, you love him and he is yours. fulfilling his request, you kiss him deeply and start moving your hand just to hear him moan into your mouth. you loved the subtle change in his body language whenever you touched him like this. zayne truly melts and his body becomes even more obedient to you. all he wants is you.

“zayne, my love, you know there’s no need to be jealous of all those people today.” you say watching him try to hide his face as you call him out. hearing you call him ‘jealous’ made him feel immature. “you’re the only one i want to do this to.” you add, twisting your wrist and kissing his cheek. your legs were holding him down but it was becoming increasingly difficult to not buck into your hand.

“please… only do this hnng- with me.” he pleaded his breathing becoming heavier and shakier “i- haah… i love y-you.” zayne was so soppy but it made you want to spoil him more. he could get anything he wanted when he acted like this and he probably knows it. while one of your hands worked on his dick, you moved the other under his shirt to play with his nipples. over time, you’ve been building him up and trying to make them more sensitive and he’s mentioned how they’re starting to feel good (in a very blunt way of course. very professional, very straightforward, very much breaking eye contact).

“c-careful!” zayne gasped, his body jolting forwards to the added stimulation. “i love the way your body reacts to things. i wish i could cary out a doctor’s inspection of it.” you muse mostly to yourself taking time to admire him.

“mmaybe o-one day.” he shudders as you focus your attention on his other nipple. with this promise, you increase your movements wanting to test everything on him now. “you’re so pretty like this zayne. i want to show you off to everyone.” you say moving back to his neck trying to get him close. “nno haah…” he whined not wanting to share this moment with anyone but you.

“but… seeing you like this is for my eyes only.” your hot breath on his neck and what you were saying made it hard for him to concentrate and a familiar feeling started to build. “y-yes…yes oh gods yes mmghhh just f-for you.” he babbles tilting his head back to give you more access.

“cum for me darling. i love you.” you say sucking one last mark onto him which makes him practically whine at how good you were making him feel. “tha-ank you mmghhh l-love haah- love-!” his breathing became erratic for a moment before he let out a long moan, relishing in the moment. he came over your hand and a little got on his exposed stomach but you’d be helping him out of his clothes soon enough. the day was over but you hadn’t finished spoiling him.

it didn’t take zayne too long to come back to his senses although his head was still a little foggy. he readjusted himself and rested his head on your shoulder subconsciously nuzzling a little. “‘m sorry.” he mumbled. pressing a kiss onto his head you simply reply “there’s nothing to be sorry for it’s okay. i’m just glad you’re okay.” you were so warm to him he was so lucky to have you.

“dinners cold.” he then says a little dejectedly. even though he wasn’t quite in his right mind when you were making it, you two were still making it together and he hates the idea that he wasted a home cooked meal just because of how he acted. “let’s order a take out! it’s been a little while and it’s good for you to eat unhealthy things sometimes.” you say trying to comfort him. he only scoffed in response which meant he was feeling a little like his usual self. this otherwise annoyed response made you smile.

“it’ll take a little while for it to get here,” zayne says moving his head from its safe place, “please, allow me to return the favour to you and apologise in the meantime. this is how i want to spend my days off.”

if you enjoyed, please consider liking or even reblogging! any kind of interaction let’s me know that you liked this and gives me motivation to write more. make sure to follow to stay up to date with all my thoughts <3

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notspiders · 1 month

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Liminal Spaces w/ COD:MW

Part 1

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Credits for some of the ideas goes to: @angelcqre , @roller-rink-haruno , and @sentientcave / @bluemoonrover. I love all of you so much, thank you for the support!!!

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It's more than just Task Force 141.

Don't like them? Consider these following options! :) Watch your back.

Phillip Graves - The Farm:

There's really nowhere to run off to. Good luck.

His Shadows are the farmhands and the scarecrows.

His animals are... weird.

His horses are a bit too smart, and you think you seen them peering through your bedroom window. Which is nice, until you remember you're on the second floor.

They're... always crunching on something. Why is the family of mice decreasing?

Why do the dogs look human-like? Is it the eyes?

But, you know, ignoring them... the BBQ and steak isn't so bad. You'll get the juiciest steak here. The best baked bread...

Oh, hun. You're cooking, by the way.

He's waiting on that blueberry pie too, you know.

Look at the closet. It's filled with his favorite clothes for you. :)

Why don't you bend over that counter and let him...

Oh? No? You're saying no?

That's adorable. You now have until three to lay on his lap. :)

Alex Keller - Highway

Well you do have to be in a car for this. Walking is a bit of a pain. :/

The endless highway... Sometimes you'll spot a car driving by. But they disappear when you try to speed up to them.

There's an occasional gas station smack in the middle.

And maybe the next hundreds of miles there's another...

Always stocked to the max. Anything you want, it's there.

It's cool inside too.

He's always there too.

You can keep driving but you need the gas. It'll be a pain to have your car broken down in the middle of nowhere. And the sun is scorching hot.

Oh!

Princess needs somewhere to stay, yeah?

That motel looks sus but a place is a place, and a bed would be nice than the hard car seats.

You know...

Alex can do more than just fill your car. :)

Laswell - Cruise Ship:

The cruise ship is always moving in the waters. You don't know where it goes, or when there will be land, you feel like the boat has moved for hours but...

All the clocks are not working. It's all frozen. The day is not changing either. No clouds either. Perfectly sunny.

You have everything in this empty cruise ship. The rooms are always open for you.

Beds are clean, no matter how many times you mess up the sheets, when you exit the room and enter it again- it's back to its pristine state.

The bathrooms are neat. The shampoo and conditioner go great on your hair. There's other products- makeup, medical, more toiletries- in the drawers, should you ever need them.

Theaters, arcades, casinos, restaurants- all free for you to use.

It feels great, if it didn't feel like you're being watched constantly.

You'd enjoy this place, if you didn't see things move in the corner of your eye. You sworn you saw and heard the splash of water in the pool. And that you heard the laughter of someone in a different room. And the chattering in the restaurant.

But every time you rush in, there's no one there.

No one is here in this cruise ship. No one but ghosts and echoes of families who've been here. They're harmless... Just ignore them, dear.

Good luck trying to avoid Laswell, too. She's always watching through the cameras. :)

Under any circumstances, do not jump out.

The ocean is not the ocean.

Nikolai - Airplane

Let's get this straight, yeah?

Good girls stay in first class. Bad girls go to economy.

And if you behave like an animal, well, depends on our pilot's mood. You either get called into the cockpit...

Or down into the cargo you go! :)

Don't worry! He's very nice. If you're acting up, he gives you a warning.

That being turbulence. If the plane is shaking you better stop what you're doing. Now.

It's a strange plane... You can keep on walking and it just doesn't seem to end. Place changes too, when you try to go back. It's always something new.

Plenty of movies and games in the airplane for you to watch. Don't bother taking your phone out, it won't work.

There are very nice flight attendants that'll prepare you the best food you've ever eaten. Airplane food isn't so bad after all. You can have any drink you want too.

Just don't talk with them more than just about the food. If you say anything else, they'll leave immediately.

If you flirt with them, it's their death sentence. You'll wonder why they pale and walk away so fast...

If you glance at the window, you might just catch a glimpse of them flying out into the sky.

Speaking of which... It's pitch black outside. You do see the airplane wing and the red flashing light at the end... But other than that, you can hardly differentiate the night from earth... or sea.

König - Pools

You stumbled into one of these rooms and found the naked Austrian in the pools.

Don't run! Please! You're the first human face he's seen in a while!

It's not all that bad. There's some food in the fridge- a microwave is nearby for you to reheat some foods- and the water is fresh.

The best baths are here. There's all of these shampoos, conditioners, lotions, bathbombs...

Poor König never used them because he doesn't know how to! Teach him please!

Seriously. Gaz gave him the 13 in 1 unlimited dish soap that has Johnny's face smack in the middle of it to shoo him out of his mall- and König's been using that to wash himself ever since. :(

Don't mind him cuddling you all the time.

You're the softest thing he's ever held in his hands. The towels and rubber duckies can't even compare.

Don't try to escape or leave his side now.

There are monsters here that'll be happy to drown you.

Alejandro Vargas - The Resort

A massive upgrade compared to Ghost's Bachelor Shack by the sea.

It's still... very empty.

It's just you and Alejandro.

Food and drink are limitless. Ask for anything, Alejandro will deliver.

Relax, love. You deserve this break. You deserve everything.

No annoying seagulls squawking at you. You do see them flying in the distance though... They never come, nor do they ever land.

The waters are crystal clear. It's the perfect temperature to slip inside and just float in it.

You're never cold. It's toasty warm, with an occasional breeze. Feels perfect. The hotel has perfect air conditioning, if you want to stay inside.

You get a camera, instead of your phone. Go take some pictures!

There's so many things to do here. Scuba-diving, sailing, swimming, surfing...

Exploring tide pools with Alejandro. :)

Rodolfo Parra - Aquarium

Enjoy yourself in the aquarium! Don't you worry, the animals here are all treated wonderfully.

Let him be your tour guide. He'll show you every marine animal in this domain.

And it seems he has everything here. You can take pictures! Just without the flash please. Seriously. No flash. In fact, how about just let him take the pictures for you? Pose with him and smile for the camera... :)

If you want, you can feed the animals here!

You can pet some of the animals in some spots. Rub the back of a patient orca. Allow a sea otter to sniff your hands. Pat the belly of a lazy seal.

Come over to the Ray Pool! The stingrays are eager to feel your touch.

The beluga swims beside you as you walk down the tunnel. A dolphin leaps out of the water to greet you. A manatee smushes its face against a window in an attempt to give you a >kith<.

Ah you're hungry? Not to worry. The cafeteria is down here. Anything you want to eat or drink, it's all here.

After lunch, how about you go diving with Rudy? Don't worry. It's safe. He'll take you to one of the biggest pools and you can dive in beside him.

The Humpback Whale nuzzles you affectionately.

Try not to stray away from Rudy. You can easily get lost in these halls... If you do, stay still and just let him come up to you.

There's no point in hiding. The fish are on his side. :/

Farah Karim:

I truly believe that Farah actually doesn't have a liminal space.

She guides you instead.

She helps you go through the domains.

Farah is someone you can trust in this liminal region.

She'll watch your back as you two camp in Soap's woods. She'll lead you out of Price's suburbia. She sneaks you away from Graves's farm.

She'll protect you.

Bonus w/ Ghost:

After you met with Alejandro and seen his beach, Ghost upgraded his domain.

Well, slightly.

There is a lighthouse now.

Do you remember playing in the beach with him? You two built sandcastles together.

He's awfully proud of himself when he tips the bucket and pulls it up. He's made his first sand tower, really.

"Tha's gonna be where you and me live, lovie."

...No wonder why that lighthouse looks awfully familiar.

It also explains why it looks like it's going to crumble any second.

Sure, there's blankets and lovely cushions, some food and drink in the corner-

It's... somehow colder here than the shack. :/

You can practically feel the tower shake as the waves crash against it.

Ghost assures you- as you curl up beside him on the small bed for his warmth- that it's perfectly safe. Trust him. Please.

Please don't leave him.

But if you really need to...

He'll light his tower to guide you through the dark.

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atinystraynstay · 5 months

Text

Close As Strangers - Kim Namjoon

Synopsis: Namjoon has been working hard on opening a new art gallery. When you two were together, you knew he was passionate about it. You loved watching his eyes light up just being around anything artistic. His eyes kept glancing towards the front door. Even though you two split, he couldn't help but wonder - would you show up?

Pairing: Art Collector!Kim Namjoon x Artist!reader

Genre: angst - post-breakup, still in love with your ex

Inspiration: Close As Strangers - 5 Seconds of Summer

Word Count: 2.3k

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Everyone was filling into the venue space Namjoon rented out. There were tables set up towards the front of art gallery with simple finger foods, a subtle way to encourage people to eat before they begin to wonder the exhibit. The last thing Namjoon needed to worry about was someone touching a piece and smearing the art work with cheese or something.

Champagne had been popped as a way to mark the official opening of the art gallery. There was light chatter, the occasional person coming up to congratulate him on his success. He offered a polite smile to strangers, thanking them for coming. Yet, with each interaction, with each movement, his eyes glanced towards the front of the venue space.

Would you come? He sent an invitation a few weeks back but was met with only radio silence. There was still a chance.

Namjoon and you had started dating right as the pandemic began to ease up. As a way to mark your reemergence into society, you both ended up going to an art museum. He still remembers the way you analyzed each piece, she people getting frustrated with you for taking up so much room. But they didn't get it. Their approach to museums was just to look at the piece and move on.

Not you. Maybe it helped that you studied art in college, but you liked learning about the piece as well as the artist behind it. You would read each descriptor, finding out about the biography of the artist, why they made a particular piece, and what they were trying to portray. You appreciated the hard work and sheer dedication it took to craft any type of art.

What Namjoon appreciated was how considerate you were. You weren't the type to offer harsh critiques, to think you were better. Your eyes took in each piece, almost as if you were following each stroke. You were trying to take in everything you could to make yourself a better artist. He never thought he would meet someone who was so into art as himself, to view things just as he did.

You two made a routine. Fridays, you would go out to a different museum. You alternated who chose the museum. Afterwards, you would go to a restaurant in the city to discuss the pieces you liked over a glass of wine. You then offered insight into various other topics - philosophy, politics, latest trends you saw on your TikTok. He believed he found his better half.

He was captivated not just by your technique, but by you. You had this magic ability to gather everyone's attention without saying a word. All eyes immediately went on you. He wasn't sure if it was because of your radiating smile, always coming across as approachable and kindhearted. Or if it was for your outer beauty. You were just breathtaking. it definitely had to be a combination of both.

Soon, you guys began to travel the world to different art galleries. There were times you felt guilty as Namjoon insisted on paying for everything. All he ever needed was your company.

While you enjoyed the opportunity to travel the world together, to explore and experience new things, that's all you guys did. It would be going to a new country just for an art museum. Sometimes it felt like you two left just as quickly as you arrived. You tried convincing him to take a break from art to explore parts of the cities you were in.

In response, he just brushed you off. He stated that he was here on business. Namjoon genuinely thought you would enjoy being surrounded by art. And there were times you did. Other times, you wanted a break. You wanted to just experience the world around you without viewing artwork and feeling like you were being compared to other artists by your own significant other. it was suffocating.

That was when the cracks in the foundation began to show themselves. Namjoon thought you were changing from the person you said you were, and how you presented yourself to be. You argued that he focused too much on the serious side of life rather than living in the moment.

"Well, maybe if you were a serious artist, you would be inspired rather than be lazy about your craft."

The words he spoke to you still struck a nerve. The constant travel, and lack of support you felt from the person that mattered the most caused you to lose inspiration. You tried out different mediums ranging from ceramics to digital art. Every time you attempted to sit down and create something, you were just more frustrated.

You walked out after that argument. You didn't turn back as you realized you needed to get out of the toxic environment to better yourself. You were an artist after all. There was a strong desire for you to get back to what was important to you, but you needed to unfortunately separate yourself from Namjoon to do so.

Namjoon realized too late that the had lost you. You didn't go chasing after you, figuring you might finally throw yourself in your studio to create. He thought you needed space to feel your emotions. He honestly missed seeing your artwork.

Deep down, he knew he could be a bit stubborn, but he didn't realize how serious the argument was until the next day. Numerous texts and calls were dialed to your number. You ignored every single one of them. He then decided to visit your studio where your art supplies had already been cleared out. What really broke him was seeing that your apartment had already been emptied.

Luckily, he still had one method to reach out to you. Your email. He emailed the invitation to his art gallery to that address. Truly, he had no idea if you would even respond, but he was hopeful.

The minutes passing by felt like hours. His heart was trembling within his soul as he eagerly watched out for you every now and then. Namjoon tried his damn hardest to invest himself in the conversations around him, but he just couldn't. Not when wondering where you were was infiltrating his mind.

The art gallery opened at 7pm. It was now 9:14pm. The gallery was going to be open for another 46 minutes before the after-party started at his condo. There was still time.

The crowd was starting to dwindle as people were making their way through the entire exhibit. Or maybe they were just done with their conversations with other high-list individuals. He could care less.

As the crowd began to grow smaller, he noticed a body staring by the front. He raised an eyebrow. He never noticed that person there before. That was until he recognized it was you.

His eyes widened as he watched you for a moment. You wear wearing a black sleek dress that had a slit up to your mid thigh. Strands of hair framed your face as you had it pulled back. Your makeup was light besides the mascara that coated your eyelashes and the red lipstick on your lips. He noticed you still wore gold jewelry. A glass of champagne was in your hand, still full as your eyes traveled around the venue. You've never looked anymore beautiful.

Eventually, your eyes landed on him. It was as if time stopped. You offered a gentle smile. He was frozen in place as you began to make your way through the crowd.

You actually showed up. "Hi Joonie." He never thought he would hear your voice again. Let alone hear you call him by that name. "Hi y/n," he whispered. He wanted desperately to throw his arms around you, pull you in and never let you go. However, this was his first official art gallery after collecting for so many years. He had to maintain a level of professionalism if he hoped to make it in the industry. "You look elegant as always," he complimented.

You couldn't fight off the smile that came onto your lips. You leaned up to kiss his cheek in a friendly manner. It was enough to nearly make his knees weak. You still had him tightly wound around your little finger. "Care to let me show you around?" He asked upfront. He wasn't even sure why he asked that. He was going rogue.

His nerves settled once you nodded. He offered his arm out to you for which you slipped yours in between. You took a sip of your champagne before nodding, allowing him to lead you through the exhibit he curated.

Honestly, you were beyond proud of him. This has been a dream of his since the day you met. He confessed his wish to open up exhibits throughout the world, especially in underprivileged communities. You both knew that the arts could save lives, and he was determined to see that happen.

You recognized some of the pieces from your journeys together. You were trying to still piece together the pieces of what the underlying theme was. You were surprised Namjoon didn't include descriptions of the pieces.

Was that intentional? Maybe he wanted people to come up and ask questions? He always loved talking about art. You were always impressed with how much knowledge he stored in his mind.

You also remembered how Namjoon could be a bit clumsy. He managed to maneuver the two of you through the crowd pretty successfully. Aside from the occasion tug you had to give him before he bumped into someone. He would blush lightly, saying a quick apology to the person he would walk past.

Part of his distraction was because of you. He kept glancing down at you more times than looking at the path in front of him. Namjoon just couldn't believe you actually showed up.

You wanted to ask questions. You wanted to know about him, how he was doing, what he has been up to. But you figured it would all be answered with time.

Namjoon finally stopped as he reached the back wall of the art exhibit. It was impressive how much he's curated over the years. However, you were not prepared for the final pieces of the gallery.

You had this habit on dates to draw on napkins, often when you were waiting for the waiter to come back with your receipt. You always had pen stashed in your purse for such moments. Your drawings consisted of what was around you - the people at neighboring tables, skylines, dogs, the glasses you and Namjoon finished, sometimes even of himself.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the wall. Hundreds of these little napkins were framed and on the wall. He came to love your little drawings. You never drew them to give them to someone, so he began collecting them. He knew that the staff at the restaurants would just throw them away, and it crushed him to see good art be treated like garbage. They were the parts of you, after all. Every napkin was like a piece of treasure.

The two of you stood there for a moment. You could remember where the two of you were from each napkin. New York, Los Angeles, Paris, Seoul, Milan - just to name a few. You remembered the coffee shops the two of you could go to on a rainy Sunday. You remembered every moment with Namjoon. "I can't believe you did all of this," you whispered. "Angel, this whole gallery is for you. It's our own little lane of memories."

You two just stared at each other. Your eyes were glossy, and admittedly so was his. His life felt meaningless without your presence in it. Every day felt torturous knowing he was at fault for letting you go, for not fighting harder. Now that you were here in front of him, he wasn't going to let you getaway that easily again.

"Namjoon?"

Who the hell was calling his name.

"Namjoon? Hello?"

He watched as you took a step back. You weren't smiling anymore, the tears now falling from his eyes. The world around him started to fade away besides the one voice repeatedly calling his name. What was going on? He tried running to you but he felt his feet were stuck. Everything faded to black.

"Namjoon!" "Can someone please get him some water?"

He blinked his eyes when the world seemed brighter again. There was still chatter of people, but he was now being circled by the people that were closest in his life. Well, everyone besides you.

His eyes flickered towards the front of the gallery. He saw a woman standing in a black dress. Her hair was pulled back, a glass of champagne in her hand. Y/n.

He was about to push past the people that gathered him but froze when he made eye contact. Those weren't your eyes. And you weren't wearing gold. It was someone else. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he took a step back from where he was before. "Seriously, Joon? Are you ok?"

Namjoon let out a shaky breath before nodding. He did his best to put on a bright smile, but the tears in his eyes were a dead giveaway. All his friends were concerned for him. They knew just how important tonight was for him, but not as important as trying to see you again.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm sorry. I got lost in my head. Just think about everything that led up to this moment," he chuckled lightly.

All his friends nodded in understanding. Jin rested his hand on his younger friend, squeezing comfortingly. "You've worked so hard. You should be proud of yourself." Everyone agreed as they joined in cheers of their champagne glasses.

If only Namjoon could be proud of himself, of the man he had become. But he couldn't be when he lost the best piece of artwork that entered his life - you.

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mushroom-madness · 1 year

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🍄 Round 1: Match 23 🍄

🍄 Vote for your Favorite Fungi! 🍄

Descriptions Below ⬇️

Caduceus Clay

“He heals wounds with fungus and makes tea from dead people which is like basically mushrooms :)” - Submission 97

“my sweet son. my baby boy. love and cherish him” - Submission 136

youtube

Critical Role Wiki

Josh

“he was accidentally created by joy, a witch who was trying to make a potion and maybe added too many mushrooms? which somehow lead to the creation of a sentient mushroom boy. he has the cognitive and language skills of an average adult, however is clueless about 90% of things and is constantly like "sorry, im gonna need you to back up and explain what an 'economy' is". he co-founded a restaurant chain with his best friend who is a ghost. he considers joy his...mom? god? but also has mixed feelings about her, especially since meeting other people and starting to figure out who he is. they've got family drama </3. he got shown a cave full of big mushrooms and instantly got incredibly excited and was like "!!!!! they're like me!!!!!!!! " and then built an entire massive base in said cave within like, a few days. he's refered to himself as a "fun guy" on multiple occasions. i love him he's so silly. [also, for full clarification: dominion smp is very story and character based. multiple creators have refered to the characters they play as /characters/ rather than just themselves, including this guy! and as stated in my rambles, he's got a bunch of traits that he doesn't share with the person playing him, due to the fact that his circumstances shape a lot of his personality and interactions, and they are. clearly different to the irl content creator.]” - Submission 96

“Josh is a character on the Dominion SMP! He is the mushroom son of the witch, Joy, who was created after she mixed a bunch of things together in a cauldron. He occasionally refers to her as “god”. He is curious about the world and how it works, and he’s part of the group IOU, which is an organization formed in opposition to POOPA, which is sort of like the Dominion SMP’s version of OSHA.” - Submission 127

No Wiki Available

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originallandlockedmariner · 10 days

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Recently, I read a touching Humans of New York confession, '… The definition of love is elusive, which is why we write about it endlessly. Even Shakespeare couldn’t touch it…,' and it resonated so very deeply with me. The girth, colour and sting of love means a gajillion different things to a bajillion different people… Some lovers focus on the aesthetics. Others the breadth of emotion. While others like me, focus on the stupid stuff we joke about while laying in bed. My go to. That’s my bread and butter. Bread: “I will love you as generously and warmly as the sun loves your hair; I will shower you - seeing as you rarely do. I will love you in a way in which you feel free like the shipping on all the online shopping you absolutely needed to buy. I never want to be apart, except every single Monday to Friday during work hours and the occasional Saturday or Sunday, in gym change rooms, in restaurant bathrooms, and if I am secretly purchasing Christmas gifts even though you specifically stated we are not exchanging gifts this Christmas.” Butter: “The way my stomach folds over my belt when I lean over, the moments I’m silent or grumpy for no apparent reason, the times I’ve walked out of a room and left the light on, how I usually only get through ¾ of my to do list, those drifting off to sleep snores, when I’ve misread your energy and spiraled off into assumicide, smacked my lips when I eat, left mountains of clothes on the floor on my side of the bed, when I’ve bothered you while you try to write or lose yourself in your phone, relentlessly grabbed your ass, dropped the ball as your accountability couch, and neglected my FFO (Family Financial Officer) obligations. Thank you for loving me despite all of these.” @originallandlockedmariner

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illandtired · 10 days

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about me<3 (tw)

Hello, I’m 17 and I’m gonna try to take my life again on my 18th birthday.

(Sorry, this jumps around a lot.)

(And it’s long….)

Also heavy topics, literally almost every trigger warning in the book.

This blog is gonna literally be my diary. I’ve attempted to make me life multiple times in the past for multiple different reasons.

I’m seventeen and I currently live alone in my mother’s house, she lives with her boyfriend. I had my biological dad who left before I was born and two step fathers. The only one I “care” about is my most recent. He entered my life when I was 6 and since then I tried telling my mother about him but for some reason it took until I was 16 for her to divorce him. He abused me severely. When I told him I was suicidal the first time he said he was gonna go get his gun then proceeded to make me beg for my life. I was I believe 12 or 13, a lot of it’s a blur like most of my life.

I don’t want to go too much into my past and make this too long, I started smoking weed in 8th grade. By 9th I was doing lines of random shit I got from kids at school off the bathroom toilets. I have touched most stuff besides heroin. The one drug I promised my mother I would stay away from. Currently I am still hooked on opioids, SSRIs, and I smoke weed/thc carts every day.

I was 6 when I was diagnosed with adhd, severe anxiety and depression. I haven’t seen a doctor since. My mother swears she’s trying to get me in but she always complains about how much my meds cost. She knows my worries about my mental state and I swear it’s impossible to get the help I need.

I’ve always been a paranoid person but it’s getting worse by the day. I’m genuinely too scared to take the trash out because I feel 800 eyes on me. I feel like there’s invisible people constantly around me judging my every move. I don’t feel real some times, and not that life is a simulation shit, I genuinely don’t feel like I’m in my body.

I started self harming in 3rd grade. It started as me being a wrist and head banger but by 5th grade I had started using thumb tacks and scratching myself. I went to my step father and he told me they weren’t Deep enough and I was just looking for attention. By 6th grade I was actually cutting, but only to where I barely saw the blood. By 8th it got to the point where I needed to see the blood run. But I’ve managed to get back to only getting it to bead up, occasionally running. I was clean for quite a few months but the smallest, SMALEST thing can set me back so much.

I’ve struggled my entire life with starving myself, binge eating, then starving myself. I’ve been an unhealthy weight a lot of my life. I’m around 240lbs now, my eating disorder is mainly starving now. My “Binges” are now small.

I have never been able to make a phone call to someone besides friends. Even family calls are hard a lot. I can barely order food at a restaurant, fancy or McDonald’s.

I’ve made money in my life from stealing, I’ve been a kleptomaniac for as long as I can remember. But I also made money doing bakery stuff for my mother, doing mechanical stuff, and babysitting. My only “legal” job was working at McDonald’s. I got fired a year after starting because we had a new manager who fired me over homophobic reasons. I hated going to work. I loved the work itself, but I hated having to be around anyone.

I’ve always been called lazy. And I feel like it’s true, I can barely find the motivation to get up to take a piss most days. I had such a hard time with organization and cleanliness as a kid so I always had a messy room, unless it was right after one of the days I got my stuff thrown away.

I never payed attention in school yet I somehow got straight As until i genuinely didn’t care anymore. I dropped out 10th grade on my 16th birthday. School was so much worse for my mental health. I was self harming almost every day, lying to myself about who I am to fit in.

I actually love learning, I wanted to get into nursing school but I know I’ll never get clean enough. I even study biology, trig, physics, crime scene investigation, all sorts of stuff. I have notebooks and notebooks that I’ve filled with information I’ll never use.

I was 10 when I got my first boyfriend. He was 18, a relationship on discord. It lasted a couple years at least. I was sexually assaulted multiple times growing up and I don’t wanna go into more detail in this post. But due to my sexual trauma i became very hyper sexual very young. I still am to this day, I sell pictures to creepy men online because I know I won’t be able to get any other job. But at the same time it’s basically been implemented in my brain I’m good for sex and nothing more. I feel so utterly disgusted with myself after every sexual experience in my life from sex to just sending nudes.

I grew up a chubby girl with big tits. It was 6th grade i started having boys desperate to touch them. I had Ds by then. I’m a F-G now (depends on the bra). My own step father and his sons who were much older than me started sexualizing me when I was about 13. One of my step brother was creepy since he entered my life.

I’ve had so many important parts of my life taken from me. My Virginity with a man was raped away when I was 14 on Christmas. My self worth was barely existent but it was gone completely by 9th grade. My first “good boyfriend” was when I was 15, he was 18. He filmed us one night after I asked him not to multiple times, but the next day a video of me having my brains fucked out was all over my school. It was a smaller school, but even some of the female teachers sided with him because he was the “king” of the school. I missed my middle school graduation which doesn’t seem like much to most people, but I knew I was going to drop out and never have a high school graduation. I was even selected to write a speech and go up and speak at the podium but due to anxiety from both situations I missed the whole thing entirely because I tried to kill myself that night.

Most of my attempts have been overdose attempts, and that’s for a reason. I couldn’t imagine my mother finding me and my brains splattered on the wall. But out of everything, no it’s not my mother that’s kept me alive. It’s been my best friend. I live in the states and he lives in Scotland. We’ve been friends for years, we met through my ex and were completely like the opposite of each other but we care about each other. And unfortunately I don’t think I’ll be able to meet him. We were going to meet when I turn eighteen because he’ll be turning 21 and can legally drink here, I can legally drink there.

I care about nothing more than him and it pains me that I know he will be disappointed when he realizes I gave up. I don’t plan on telling him anything.. we have a thing where if he’s gone for a month he’s on a mental health break, but two months he’s dead and I have his permission to kill myself. I’m going to tell him he has to wait a year for me because I might be in the mental hospital.

Back to simple things I can’t do, I would rather claw my own eyes out than be alone with a man in a room. But my best friend is the one exception. I haven’t gone on a date since new years. As soon as we got to his house, it wasn’t even 5 minutes before he had a gun pressed in my side.

Yet at the same time I feel like my only purpose is to make men happy in any way I can. Even if it makes me uncomfortable and I don’t want to do it. Because that’s all I’ve ever been good at and praised for.

There was about a week in my life and it was somewhat recent. I told myself I wasn’t going to attempt again because no matter what life won’t suck that bad. Being homeless was the happiest time of my life, sure I can be on the street and cold, no money, but I no longer have responsibilities and I get to walk which I love doing. I used to sneak out at night and go on long ass walks normally from 10pm to 3-5am.

More things about substances, once again I’m sorry for jumping around. I started smoking cigarettes in 6th grade, provided by my step father and girlfriend. I started drinking in 8th grade but now it takes half a bottle of tequila for me to be at a happy level of drunk. Or 4 bottles of cheap wine, or an entire bottle of rum. Anyways I feel like I’m rambling on and on so I’m gonna try to wrap this up.

What’s the main reason I want to kill myself? Because I know I will never be able to live a normal life. But my one goal as a kid was to make it to 18.

#tw 3d vent #3dtumblr #3d #3d diet #3d f4st #3d not sheeran #tw ed but not sheeran #vent post #personal vent #vent blog #cw vent #@na vent #vent

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psalm22-6 · 1 year

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Source: The Jewish News of Northern California, 2 October 1992

I thought this was a very cool profile and an interesting perspective. I love the research she did on the gamins.

Understudy says Jews will see themselves in Le Miz by Paul Freeman The theatrical epic Les Miserables tells the story of Jean Valjean, a noble, good-hearted man unjustly persecuted for a minor crime. To sate his extreme hunger, Valjean steals a loaf of bread only to find himself mistreated for the rest of his life. According to cast member Pauline Frommer, Jean Valjean's ordeal should strike a chord among Jews.

“The persecution is not really about the loaf of bread," says Frommer, “but about who he is."

Similarly, she says, "We, as Jews, are persecuted not out of anything we actually do, but because of who we are. That's the story of Jean Valjean, who is imploring Javert, 'Look at me as a human being! Don't look at me as a criminal!'"

[. . .] Frommer attributes the show's popularity to its spiritual quality. "It touches on what's best in human beings, revealing our aspirations towards creating new worlds," she says. "It brings out a longing in people to go out and create a revolution, to try to make things better. At the end of the show, it says that to love another person is to see the face of God. That's very powerful."

Frommer understudies two roles — Eponine and Cosette. One requires a soprano voice, the other an alto. Fortunately, Frommer has a three-octave range. She also has to adjust to the differences between the personalities of the two characters. Cosette is gentle, while Eponine has rougher edges.

Very often, Frommer doesn't know until only a few hours before the curtain that she will have to perform one of these featured roles. "That makes it exciting every time I go on," she says. "There's always an adrenaline rush. I can never get totally comfortable with a character. That's a big advantage, I think."

When Frommer isn't called upon to play one of those roles, she focuses her energies on her work within the ensemble. "I play a boy for most of the show," she says. "To prepare, I watched the little boys in the cast, seeing what kind of tricks they liked to play on people. I also read [author Victor] Hugo's novel and learned about the contradictions of these little gamins. They're both playful and serious. They steal and eat from garbage cans, but they love the theater and want to know more about the culture of Paris."

Growing up, Frommer had the unusual opportunity to experience a number of other cultures firsthand. Her father, after all, is the famed travel writer Arthur Frommer, who wrote the Europe on $5 a Day series of books. According to his daughter, Dad researched the hotels and restaurants, while his wife at the time, actress and acting instructor Hope Arthur, gathered information about museums.

"I started traveling when I was 4-months-old," the 25-year-old Frommer says. "My parents would push me into drawers at night, because they didn't carry a crib. Every summer since then, until I was 14 and started going to camp, we would go to Europe to update the book.

"It gave me a great appreciation for how different, and yet, how alike we all are," she says.

Arthur Frommer, who recently wrote a new book titled The New World of Travel and hosts a cable TV show of the same name, made Jewish historical sites an important part of the family's European visits.

"In Spain we visited many synagogues," his daughter recounts. "We went to Israel when I was 11. My parents got off the plane and kissed the ground. I remember very clearly the Wailing Wall, which had a profound effect on me. It also meant a lot to me to realize that I was in a Jewish state, where I was in the majority, not the minority."

In all her worldly travels, Frommer claims never to have encountered anti-Semitism, though on tour with Les Miserables she occasionally has felt that her Jewishness made her an outsider.

"Usually, there are a lot of Jews in theater," she says. "In Les Miz, there's only one other Jewish member in the cast. In Kansas, my dresser told me I was the first Jewish person she had ever really known. But it wasn't a negative thing. She was curious about me.

"Being from New York City, I grew up around many Jews. On Yom Kippur, the whole school got the day off. So it was strange for me to be seen as being so different. At the end of the week, the dresser gave me a pin that said, 'Oy vey.'"

Despite her Jewish upbringing, Frommer claims always to find herself cast in non-Jewish parts. "It's funny. In camp, I was in Fiddler on the Roof. I played the Russian sergeant. I'm always cast as the shiksa. They always cast the blonde in the non-Jewish roles," laughs Frommer, who plans to audition for movie roles when the tour hits Los Angeles.

Nonetheless, Frommer remains hopeful.

"Who knows," she says, "maybe someday I'll get the part I've always wanted, my dream role — Anne Frank."

#les miserables #lm musical #lm in america

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katiesautisms · 7 months

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Hi I did the writing thing again >:)

This time, it's about Michael Afton reflecting on the bite of '83; I'm pretty proud of this one :]

TW's: child murder, blood

Also this one is just kinda upsetting in general, when I finished this one I felt bummed out for a good while

_______________💖💖💖________________

Waiting waiting waiting, it feels like I've been waiting here for an eternity in disassociation. The doctors won't even let me see him, only my father was allowed inside. I can hear only the mumbles of the adults and the occasional crying from my brother from out here.

It was supposed to be a prank, just a joke, sure he'd be the butt of it but....I never wanted this. I hope he knows I love him, and that I never meant to hurt him. What older sibling wouldn't want to mess with their younger sibling a little? Who wouldn't want to see them cry? To feel constantly afraid? To see them in a state of ungodly fear?

...I love him, I swear to god I do.

I will admit, I've had some resentment towards him for a while. My father wouldn't let my brother go with him to that restaurant he owns for some reason, so he made me take care of him everyday after school. Taking care of that little...kid was the last thing I wanted to do coming home from the hell that is sophomore year in highschool; so I decided that I wanted to have some fun with him.

He loved that restaurant my dad owns, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, he had so much merchandise from there that his room felt like a museum dedicated to the place. It started when I took a foxy mask he wore for his first Halloween, I'd hide behind a part of the house and jump out to scare him. He'd cry every time, it was a little scary how I kind of enjoyed watching him bawl his eyes out, but my friends assured me it was completey normal. But then he had a birthday, it's today, it was supposed to be a day where he'd be the happiest he's ever been.

Interrupting my train of thought, my father walked out of the room with my little sister. They both sit down on a bench across from me. A painful silence stabbed all of us, occasionally being interrupted with my focus being turned towards my sister fidgeting with whatever she could find, before my heart gets stabbed again as I turn back to staring at my stained shoes.

"Michael..." said my father with a deep, exhausted, slightly angry tone.

I looked up at him, my biggest fear was that he'd say that he was disappointed in me, that I was a mistake, that he hated me.

"...nevermind, forget it." Somehow, the impact of those three, seemingly meaningless words made my fears seem so insignificant.

I went back to disassociating, trying to comprehend all that happened to keep myself from crying.

Me and my friends met up at the restaurant, none of us having the heavenly gift that is hindsight. This time, all four of us jumped out at my brother with different mask, each being a different character. We made fun of him for being afraid...I made fun of him for being afraid. Then I came up with an idea for a prank, the prank.

Two characters, a yellow bunny and a yellow bear, the ladder singing a song while the former played an instrument. I wanted to REALLY scare my brother by putting him up to the bear, right in his mouth.

All four of us carried him by his arms, his weak legs kicking us, not at all disturbing our walk. His screams being drowned out by our laughing. We got to the stage, right in front of the bear. We carried him closer and closer until we shoved his head in the animatronic mouth, its movements were jammed. Me and my friends were all laughing hysterically.

But then the bear bit down. Hard.

There was blood, so much blood. It covered the animatronic's head. My brother then went limp. We weren't laughing anymore. You couldn't even see his head, it was all red.

I stood there. Paralyzed, in what I thought at the time was fear, but it's only now I realize it was guilt. I was sorry. I am so, so sorry Evan.

People all around the restaurant were screaming at the sight, my family rushed to emergency room at the closest hospital we could find. Where I am right now.

I glance at my father again, rubbing both of his eyes with one hand while the other held his glasses. My sister hugged him tightly, burying her face in his shirt.

I can hear the heartbeat monitor they've hooked up to my brother.

"Beep. Beep. Beep."

The sound almost brings me to tears. I can't bare what I've done.

"Beep. Beep. Beep."

He's only nine years old, he just wanted to have a fun birthday party with his favorite characters. Trying to forget how a few days prior he was made fun of by every kid on the block for being a crybaby. That was my fault...

"Beep. Beep. Beep."

I start to tear up, which quickly turned into soft crying. I'm so sorry Evan, I know I'm a piece of shit brother, I know you deserve so much better, I know you're in so much pain.

"Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep."

BONUS:

Where... where am I?!

Why can't I see? It's so dark here.

Why can't I breath? What happened? I remember being really hurt and really scared for a few seconds, and then I wasn't hurt or scared anymore.

DAD?! ELIZABETH?! MICHAEL?! Why can't I scream??

I can hear though, I hear people talking about how someone was hurt, something about calling an ambulance. I don't know what's happening, but I hope whoever was hurt gets to feel better.

I can't move, I feel like there's something really heavy on my chest. Where's my dad? I want to go home....

...why can't I cry?

#writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #william afton #fredbear #purple guy #michael afton #evan afton #elizabeth afton #bite of 83 #freadbear

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thessalian · 1 year

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Thess vs Food Stereotypes

Okay, really getting tired of this.

I didn’t want to hijack the post doing the rounds about “British kids try biscuits and gravy for the first time” and people getting judgemental about British cooking based on a few kids whose idea of ‘biscuit’ is very different than the American version and one British uni student’s aversion to spice. Thing is, though ... I live here, and I moved here from Canada (Montreal, even, which has a reputation for being as foodie as Paris but with a lot more politeness) by way of the United States. I’ve seen the stereotypes from all three countries, and when it comes to England, I’ve been everywhere from tiny hamlets to ... well, London, where I currently reside.

A lot of “traditional dishes” lack for spice here, true. However ... did y’all forget, while you were going, “American versions of recipes from other places have such flavour because poor / low class immigrants brought the recipes here”, that Britain was a fucking empire? We bitch about British colonialism all the time, and fair enough, but no one seems to have considered the huge variety of food that brought to this tiny wet little island. Even in the tiniest hamlets you’ll generally find an Indian takeaway, always family-run, always by families who came from the country from which the cuisine originated, some as recently as a generation ago. Bigger cities, and especially someplace like London? You’ll find a lot more. Hell, I live near an area that’s a blend of Afro-Caribbean, Nigerian, and Filipino, and the food you’ll find in the area reflects that. And I don’t just mean restaurants either; people who live here are clearly making that stuff at home, if the local markets are any indication. It’s the same all over, with a lot of emphasis on Indian, Pakistani, Nepalese, Filipino, and the foods of various African nations. Britain colonised these countries, and maybe the white people don’t make as much use of the spices they got by doing so as they could? But some do.

Also ... dude, they have herbs here. And they use them. Stews are full of thyme and sage and bay leaf. Sauces are a thing - mint for lamb, applesauce (not the sweet dessert kind; the kind where the tartness of the apple is maintained) for pork, fucking horseradish for beef. Root vegetables like parsnips and carrots are often roasted in a honey glaze, and never underestimate how a flavour profile changes if you change what fat you’re using for roasting a potato. (Seriously, just try roasting potatoes in goose fat.) Gravy? They have gravy; not as thick, and more generally devoted to the flavours of the juices of the roast, but they have gravy.

Britain has a different, earthier, occasionally sweeter flavour profile to a lot of its traditional dishes than other countries, yes. And there are a lot of people in this country who fear anything more than one clove of garlic, yes. However, there are Americans who fear anything that doesn’t taste of grease and mayonnaise, too (which is the stereotype, I’m afraid). So maybe can we lean less into the stereotype and, while trying unfamiliar foods, also do some research and try a variety of those unfamiliar foods instead of judging an entire country’s palate based on a couple of school kids who don’t know the American South’s version of a biscuit? Just be happy they’re loving it.

And go try some bubble and squeak sometime. Lancashire hot pot. Cornish pasty. Cullen skink. Hell, shepherd’s pie! It’s not all boiled everything, y’know.

#Thess cooks #Really ought to try cullen skink sometime

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sortofanobsession · 1 year

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Roy/Jaime with Keeley friendship: Established Roy/Jaime. Jaime goes to Manchester to see his mum and is going to take the train back. A horrific train accident happens and Jaime's name was on the passenger list. Everyone thinks Jaime is dead, Roy is beside himself. Jaime is in fact alive and on different train, totally oblivious. He comes home late and decides not to wake a sleeping Roy, just climbs in with him. Imagine Roy's shock when he wakes up to his very much not dead boyfriend in his arms

A/N: I liiiiiive for this type of request. This is similar to a buddie one I did a long time ago but different enough that I had soooo much fun writing it. I'm still new to writing this group but I'm doing my best. Please remember that I am a lowly Midwestern American gal that has never left the States (though my sister did just get back from Scotland). So if their are typos or errors I apologize. Not beta read.

Enjoy

Ao3

Ted Lasso Masterlist

Paring: Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt, Roy & Keeley (platonic), Jamie & Keeley (Platonic), the afc Richmond himbos being themselves.

Word Count: 5k+

Content warning: train wreck, mentions of death, grief and loss, angst (happy ending), mentions of abuse, mentions of paranoia, mentions of head trauma, mentions of alcohol abuse, self-deprecation, self-destruction tendencies. Swearing, lots of swearing (can't believe I forgot that warning in a Roy Kent fic...)

Dead Phones and Train Wrecks

Jamie Tartt had always wanted his mother to be proud of him. Roy Kent had told him he'd never know if she was unless he got over the bullshit his dad did and went to see her. And as usual for Jamie, Roy was mostly right. So Jamie had gone to Manchester the week before training started for the new season. It would have been better if Roy had come with him, but someone had to look after Phoebe, and he needed to prepare for the new season. Roy had said that they would go earlier in the off-season next time. And that was enough to get Jamie to not put it off any longer. And he had a good week, despite having a few awkward run-ins with former Man City teammates and the occasional disgruntled fan. He didn’t care much about those. He was just glad they managed to avoid his dad. That was usually easy by avoiding the pubs and not eating at the same place regularly. It was annoying to have to keep such a paranoid schedule, but Jamie just told his mum it was because of the paparazzi. She didn't need to know that was only part of it. They just enjoyed trying new places, and thankfully, no one gave them too much trouble.

Jamie had decided at the last minute to take his mother to a restaurant in Liverpool she loved but rarely went to. His dad had never wanted to go that far when they were still a family, and Jamie hadn't had time once he got picked up for training. It was an underrated and easily overlooked cafe she would visit with her family when she was young. So Jamie had decided to have one last meal with his mum before he headed back to Richmond. Another new memory his dad couldn't taint or take from them. One for just Jamie and his mum as they try to fix their relationship.

The one thing Jamie didn’t account for was losing his charger and his phone dying. He didn’t think too much of it because Roy already knew he was going to be taking the train back and he didn't need to pick him up. And it would be late by the time he got in. Roy had to be at training the next day. Jamie did too, but if Jamie was tired, he could manage. He'd played in far worse conditions, thanks to his old man. Roy was grumpy on a good day. A bad day? Well, Jamie wouldn't be the reason the team ran laps til they puked, this time at least. Making sure Roy got sleep was a big part of that. So he told Roy over and over that he'd be fine. Jamie could survive having a dead phone for a few hours if he had to. He would be bored out of his mind, but he would suffer through it if it meant he could see Roy at the end of the day. He could catch a train after dinner and be home in a few hours. Roy wouldn’t get too mad, he hoped. He said goodbye to his mum outside the Lime Street station, got a new ticket, and managed to make the 7:30 train to London. He’d probably have to catch a cab or train home from there since his phone would be useless, and uber was not an option.

Roy couldn't breathe. He just alternates between staring at the news story on the TV and his phone. The train Jamie was taking home from Manchester was now a derailed heap of twisted metal and flames. He'd talked to Jamie just a few hours ago. But now he wasn't answering. No texts. No calls.

Roy had thought the day he'd retired from football had been the worst day of his life. But he'd give up his career, really anything and everything, to just go back a few hours and hear anything but that fucking voicemail message when he called Jamie's number. He looks at the headline again. The story updates, and the casualties number just keeps going up. Fuck. This cannot be how it ends. This can't be how Jamie Tartt’s story ends.

His phone rings in his hand, and his eyes snap to the screen with hope. Hope that is shattered when it's not Jamie calling. It was Ted. He doesn't have it in him to answer. He doesn't think even Ted Lasso's trademark optimism can help here. He can't let that damn yankee give him hope. Because Jamie had a recognizable fucking face. If he had been among the group they had rescued, that would have been news. Every news site was all over this story. Especially after someone at the train station had leaked that Jamie Tartt had been on the passenger list. Roy's phone kept going off with alerts and messages. But they were not from the one person he needed them to be. He looks up at the TV. The news just kept repeating the same thing. Casualties are high. First responders are searching, but it's a grim and solemn site. Thoughts and prayers. They just keep saying that their hearts go out to the families and friends. And that makes Roy want to scream. He wants to hit something until his knuckles bleed or his bones break. To feel something other than the pain in his chest and the ice-cold grip of fear on his heart.

His doorbell being rung, followed by knocking, finally drew his attention away from his TV and phone.

“Fuck off!” He growled when he threw the door open.

“I would if you’d have answered your phone,” Keeley says. She isn’t mad that he spoke to her like that. Roy was usually abrasive, but she knew right now he was the human equivalent of a live wire in water. ”Be glad it’s me and not everyone else.”

“Right now is-” Roy starts, but she stops him.

“I know,” she says, her tone sad.

Roy doesn’t have the energy to fight her, so he lets her in and returns to his living room. She follows him.

“Oh babe,” she says as she takes in the state of the room. The lamp that sat on the table was in pieces across the room. A few other things were not where they used to be and were probably among the other shards of ceramic and glass around the room. The one thing that was moved but wasn’t broken was a framed photo that usually was on a shelf. It was laying on the sofa next to Roy’s phone. It was a photo Phoebe had framed for Jamie’s birthday. It was of Roy and Jamie at one of Phoebe’s matches they’d been able to make. Phoebe got red carded and both men for sticking up for a teammate that had been fouled. Roy had been proud. Jamie had told her he’d do the same. Her teacher had texted Roy the picture with a reminder they were not supposed to encourage getting tossed from the game. Roy hadn’t cared. Sticking up for her team was more important than how many minutes she’d missed. Jamie had kept the photo for his lock screen for a while before it was gifted to him. Keeley set the photo on the table. It would crush Roy if anything happened to it now. Roy was never great at handling his emotions, especially the more painful ones. She glances at the news coverage. She grabs the remote and lowers the volume but leaves it on. She knew he would lose his shit if she turned it off. She didn’t want to make this harder than it already was, but she couldn’t just let him brood and spiral until he a broken shell of the man he was. Jamie had always brought so much out of Roy. For better or worse, Jamie had always made Roy feel, even when he didn't want to.

“When did you last hear from him?” She asks. He grunts as he picks up his phone.

She bites back a sigh. “He texted me last night, but I haven't heard from him today, have you?” she tried again.

Roy rubs his eyes but knows she will get it out of him eventually.

“He was at lunch. Fucking prick…” Keeley didn’t miss the way his voice broke as he said it. His fists clenched and opened repeatedly as he continued. “Lost his charger and didn’t know if his battery would last, but he’d try and stay off of it. Told him to get a new one. He said he’d be with his mum, so it wasn’t like he’d actually need to be on it. I told him that was stupid. That he was being stupid. Keeley, one of the last things I said to him-I didn’t mean to-he…”

“I know,” she puts a hand on his arm. “I’m sure he knew that you didn’t mean it.”

“Doesn’t matter if he did or didn’t. He’s dead.”

“We don’t know for sure that he-”

“LOOK AT IT!” Roy shouts as he points at the TV. “IT’S A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!”

“I know, but we don’t know anything yet, Roy. He could be fine, he-”

“If he was unharmed, he’d help. That’s just the shit he does now. Wants to help. And that would be on the news. He’s Jamie Fucking Tartt.” Roy sat down like it was taking all his energy to just exist. “If he’s injured, someone would have called, some hospital. And that would be news. The only other option is that he’s still in there. In that…fuck.” He pushes his palms against his eyes. His head hurt, and his eyes ached. Part of him just wanted to lie down or pass out. Maybe when he woke up, it would all just have been a fucking nightmare. Jamie would text him and say he was fine, and Roy would drive to wherever Jamie was and never let him go anywhere without him. But the more realistic and cynical part of Roy Kent knew this was real. There was no waking up from this hell.

“Okay,” Keeley says. She knew he had a point, but she just couldn’t let herself think that yet. If she did, she would lose it. Jamie was her friend. Roy was her friend. She needed to focus on keeping Roy at some sort of functioning baseline. Roy’s phone lit up. Ted was calling again. Roy just groaned and shoved it away. Keeley picked up.

“Hey, Ted,” She says as she goes into the kitchen. She’d make some tea. That will at least be something she can do to help.

“Keeley? You with Roy?” Ted asks.

“Yeah,” she answers.

“How is he doin'?” Ted asks. “Need one of us to come over? Because we can-”

“It’s not good,” she admits. “He just keeps checking the news. He’s already assuming the worst.”

“Maybe I should-”

“You just deal with the team, training starts tomorrow, and since they all are back, I'm sure they know. Colin and Isaac have already been texting me. You handle that. I’ll deal with Roy Kent.”

“Oh, okay,” Ted seems a bit hurt.

“I know you want to help, but I don’t think he wants anyone to see him like this. Not even me, but Jamie…I’m sure the team is struggling too. You focus on them. Leave this to me for now.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll see if any of Rebecca’s connections or Trent’s buddies know anything they aren’t sharing yet.”

“That would be great. I'll let him know someone is at least trying to do something."

"We're all trying. Let him know he's not alone."

"I will. Thanks, Ted.”

“Call me or Beard if you guys need anything or if you hear anything. If he…they’ll find him.”

She finishes making the tea as she ends the call. She pulls her own phone out and tells the team she is with Roy and that she’ll keep them in the loop. Text her, not him.

She hands Roy a mug that he takes almost on reflexes alone it seems.

“Ted says to call if you need anything,” she tells him. She sets his phone down on the seat beside him. “And I told the team I was here and to text me. Should give your phone a bit of rest.”

Roy grunts, eyes barely leaving the TV.

“Ted’s going to see if Rebecca and Trent can get any information that they might not be releasing publicly.” That had Roy’s attention snapping to her.

“Do you think they’d be able to find out if…”

“No guarantees, but I’m sure they’ll try if they haven’t reached out already. Have you talked to Jamie’s mum?”

“I can’t…not yet. I-”

“You don’t have the answers she’ll want. I get it, babe.” She sets to clean up the broken lamp and other debris.

“You don’t have to-” Roy starts, but she stops him.

“You drink your tea, I’ll do this, and then we get some food.”

“Not hungry,” Roy grunts.

“Still need to eat,” she says as she tosses some bigger pieces in a bin bag. Roy doesn’t say anything. It’s only after she finishes cleaning up that he thanks her. She waves it off.

An hour or later, Keeley almost called Beard for backup. The passenger list had been leaked before Keeley had even come over. So Keeley hadn't been surprised to find James Tartt Sr. making the whole damn thing about him. How his son had lost his way, and it's a tragedy that he'd never make a comeback. The audacity of that man to talk like that. It made it seem like Jamie was confirmed dead, but Keeley knew better than trust anything that came out of that man's mouth. He was an abusive and manipulative bastard. Roy had been enraged, and it had taken nearly 20 minutes to calm him enough to make a few phone calls. Rebecca was already looking into what could be done about Tartt Sr. Trent hadn't any new information, but he would make sure the reputable press knew the man was a pathetic old sod that knew nothing about Jamie.

“Jamie might be fit as fuck, but even he can’t survive that,” Roy says nodding at the screen when she came back into the living room. She looks over to see what is surely helicopter or drone footage of the charred carriages of the wreck. She sits beside him and nods.

“All we can do is wait,” she admits and settles in to wait with him.

Roy kicks Keeley out when it gets late, and it’s clear there isn’t anything new being reported. She only goes because he says he is going to turn in for the night. He gives in and crawls into bed. He pulls Jamie’s pillow closer, and the normally comforting scent of Jamie has fresh tears and sorrow rising in his chest, making it hard to breathe. Roy falls asleep from exhaustion on Jamie’s side of the bed.

Jamie was completely knackered by the time he reached London. People were saying the entire rail system seemed to be a fucking mess because of one train derailing. Jamie cursed himself for not having a working phone to look into it himself. Roy was right. It was stupid to have let it die. Jamie’d actually resorted to reading a book his mum gave him out of boredom on the train. The train got in over an hour later than normal, so he caught the first cab and would just pay the stupid fare. He just wanted to go home. See Roy and sleep in his own bed. He isn’t surprised the lights are all off by the time he lets himself into their flat. With practiced ease, he navigates the familiar layout. Leaves his shoes by the door after locking up. Silently making his way through the quiet hall to his room. He grins as he carefully sets his stuff inside the room. The lights from the street gave the room enough light to see Roy fast asleep on Jamie’s side of the bed. It makes Jamie’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. They were used to spending all day, every day together. They live together. They work together. Jamie is still shocked Roy hadn’t gotten annoyed with having him around 24/7. That Roy hadn’t gotten tired of Jamie’s shit and sent him packing. And here the man was, sleeping on Jamie's side of the bed, using his pillow like he really, truly, missed Jamie. He doesn’t have the heart to wake Roy now. And he’s honestly too fucking tired to chat. Jamie just quickly changes and carefully crawls into bed. Feels weird to be on Roy’s side, but he’s just happy to be home and in his own bed with Roy.

Roy was sure he had lost his mind when he woke up to the warmth and weight of an arm across his torso and legs tangled with his. His heart was pounding. What the fuck had he done? Had he gotten into the liquor before he went to bed and called someone? Had he gone out because being in their shared flat was excruciating, knowing Jamie would never walk through the door again? Was he that fucked in the head that he would do something this fucking heartless before even getting any confirmation, any closure? Roy was a fucking prick, and he couldn't even remember doing it. He just remembers going to bed and missing Jamie. But someone was here now and in their bed. It pains him to think of anyone else in his and Jamie’s bed. He just wants Jamie. He takes a shaky breath. He was almost afraid to open his eyes. The weight seemed so familiar. When he inhaled, he nearly choked. That scent was so very much the scent of home. Like Jamie fucking Tartt. And it broke his heart because there was no way this was Jamie. But part of him wanted to enjoy the insanity of the moment. Embrace the delusion his brain created at the idea of Jamie being alive and wrapped up in bed with Roy like he never left. Like he never went to Manchester. A sob caught in Roy's throat as he buried his face in his bedmate's neck. But the part that loved Jamie enough to still see this as a betrayal won out, and Roy couldn't stand it. He opened his eyes and was about to pull away and cuss out whoever it was when his world ground to a halt for the second time in less than a day. He'd recognize that fucking gorgeous face anywhere. That little scar on his brow and those perfect fucking lips. It didn't just look and feel like the familiar presence of Jamie Tartt. It was him. Either Roy had cracked up, and he was having the most vivid hallucination ever, or by some miracle, Jamie was right fucking here. Roy couldn't hold back the sheer amazement any more than he could hold back from touching Jamie. He needed to know this was real. That this wasn't a dream. He hadn't done something stupid and gotten himself brain-damaged. Fuck. Please let this be real. He carded his fingers through Jamie's hair. Brushed his fingers over Jamie's cheekbone and jaw. He gripped Jamie's face and placed a hesitant kiss on his lips. It all felt so impossible, but here he was. He could feel Jamie's muscles move as he stirred. Roy can't keep in the happy sob that rips its way from his chest as Jamie's eyes blink open. Fuck, those eyes were often his undoing, but this time Roy would happily get lost in them for eternity if it meant he got to keep Jamie with him.

Jamie wakes up with a hum as he feels fingers in his hair and featherweight touches to his face. Then a barely there kiss Jamie could have easily just dreamt of. It was gone so fast. He smiles as he blinks his eyes open and sees Roy looking at him like he'd never looked at him before. Like Jamie was some sort of fragile masterpiece or rare treasure. But something in that look had alarms going off in Jamie's head, and at first, he isn't sure why. He gets a good look at his boyfriend and can't even process the number of emotions Roy seems to be struggling with. But he knows one thing for sure. He had missed that man more than he thought he could for being gone for just a week.

Something in Roy shutters when Jamie's eyes open. Jamie smiles at him, and Roy thinks his heart might explode. It's a sleepy smile that always does things to Roy. Fuck, he didn't think he'd ever see those eyes in person again. Never see that smile. And the combination now makes his stomach flip, and his heart soar. Between the warmth of Jamie's skin under Roy's hand and the fact that he could feel Jamie's breath on his wrist. It makes the air catch in Roy's lungs, and his hands shake. Jamie was there. He could feel tears falling for once, and he didn’t care if anyone saw. Jamie was home. He was alive. Roy hadn't lost him.

Jamie was starting to get worried. Roy hadn't said a single word yet. And Roy fucking Kent never cried, but there were tears now. He'd cried when he announced his retirement from football, but Jamie had never seen it happen again. Jamie cried on occasion, but not Roy Fucking Kent. What the fuck was going on? “What’s wro-” Jamie starts to ask but is cut off when Roy kisses him. It’s a desperate and needy kiss this time. It wasn't anything like the ghost of a kiss he'd gotten before he opened his eyes. It was dizzying. Part of Jamie doesn’t want to end, but most of his brain is still confused as fuck. Roy was literally shaking. He pulls away to look at him again.

“How the fuck-” Roy starts but stops when Jamie reaches up and brushes tears off Roy’s face. Roy resists the urge to close his eyes and melt into Jamie's touch.

“Rough night?” Jamie asks.

“You’re alive,” Roy says it like it is genuinely magic. His eyes shone with what would call joy, maybe shock. Though Jamie couldn’t figure out why he was so shocked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Jamie grins. “I know I took a bit longer getting home, and you were out cold when I got in. I was knackered. Why would you think I wasn’t? I know my phone was dead, but not me.”

Roy grunts and sits up. He pulls the covers back to get a good look at his boyfriend. even moving his shirt out of the way to check for bruises or worse. Jamie just goes with it. He knows when Roy gets like this; there is no point in arguing. Roy could be a hell of a mother hen when he thinks someone he cares about is hurt or sick. Apparently, now was one of those times.

"Roy, why-" he starts to ask.

“Because your fucking train crashed!” Roy’s heart hammers in his chest as his hands move to check Jamie over again. Jamie is as solid as ever. Nothing seemed broken or even bruised as far as he could tell. He had to remind himself that Jamie was here and didn’t seem to have a scratch on him.

“We hit a few delays, but…” Jamie says. Roy can see the moment the gears seem to click, and Jamie realizes what happened. “Oh shit, the train from Piccadilly was the one that-okay now, that makes alotta-”

“Jamie,” Roy’s voice held more emotion than Jamie was used to as he grips the back of Jamie's neck, pulling him in until their foreheads touched. Whether it is to get Jamie to focus or to ground himself after thinking he'd lost Jamie, well, Jamie wasn't sure even Roy could answer that right now. But he didn't hate it. “What the fuck happened?” Roy finished saying.

“I went to dinner with my mum in Liverpool. Caught the train from Lime Street. Fuck, Roy, I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

Roy cut him off by hauling him into a bone-crushing hug. “Everyone thought you were dead,” Roy manages to say, "your fucking old man, he said you were…fuck, Jamie, I thought I lost you." But it’s mumbled by the fact he’d buried his face in Jamie’s neck. Jamie’s grip tightens at the mention of his father. Bunching the fabric of the shirt Roy hadn’t even taken off when he went to sleep. Jamie hadn’t noticed the night before but it had been one of his, not one of Roys.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jamie apologizes, “My stupid phone-”

“Fuck,” Roy growls. “Never. Again.”

“What?” Jamie is confused by the swift change from having his arms full of a desperate boyfriend to an angry one.

“You’re never going anywhere without me again,” Roy grits out.

Jamie lets out a shocked laugh. “Well, that’s not very realistic. You can’t be with me every second of-” Roy kisses him again and again. And Jamie lets him.

“Fucking watch me,” Roy says when he finally pulls back but keeps Jamie tight against him like if he lets him go, he will disappear.

“I usually do. We have a mirror. You’re fucking fit, like have ya-” Jamie is cut off as Roy’s phone starts to ring. Roy growls at it. Jamie huffs a laugh and looks at it over Roy’s shoulder. “It’s Keeley.”

“She can fucking wait,” Roy says, pulling the younger man back down to him. Jamie hums as Roy removes Jamie’s shirt. And Jamie almost forgets about the phone call, almost. Because it rings again. Roy grumbles something about throwing the damn thing out the window. Jamie chuckles as it goes to voicemail.

“Ya know, if everyone thought me dead, then we should probably-” Jamie is cut off again when Roy moves and pins him against the mattress.

“She. Can. Wait.”

“Sure, yeah, she can wait,” Jamie grins as Roy’s mouth moves to his neck. The rest of the morning is spent with Roy proving to Jamie that he needs him more than Jamie ever thought possible. And Jamie couldn't help but fall even harder for the man he'd spent years looking up to.

The AFC Richmond locker room has an uneasy silence as Keeley walks in. Morning training had been a dismal affair. It was like there was a black hole in the lineup where Jamie Tartt should be. Roy had told Keeley to meet him there. She looks around the room. Everyone looks devastated. They all knew that Jamie’s train had derailed. They knew the crews were still working on recovering the dead. It broke Keeley’s heart all over again seeing Dani Rojas wipes away tears and trying to avoid looking at Jamie's name on his cubby. Rebecca and Higgins were talking to Ted, Beard, and Trent.

“Is this about losing Jamie?” Sam asks when he sees Keeley. It seems almost painful for him to ask. It’s like he avoided saying his best friend was dead.

“Yeah, did they find him?” Colin asks. Clearly, avoiding the words as well.

“Where’s Kent?” Rebecca asks as they all leave the office and join the locker room.

“Roy said he was on the way,” Keeley says, glancing at her phone to ensure she hadn’t missed an update. “And yeah, said he wasn’t going to repeat himself, so everyone better fucking be here.”

“Everyone’s here but him…and well…Tartt,” Isaac says. “Obviously.”

“Maybe we shoulda donnit in text,” Jamie says as Roy kills the engine. He looks over at the player’s entrance at the dog track. Nervous that everyone would be pissed they didn’t tell them sooner. Or that he was playing a trick on them or something.

“They wouldn’t have believed it, and it’s always better to do this type of thing in person. Although I wouldn’t mind keeping you to myself a bit longer,” Roy admits.

Jamie grins. “Later,” he assures. “Because I feel bad they still think me dead. And I just keep seein this mental image of Dani looking like a kicked puppy, and I can’t live with that.”

“Fine,” Roy grunts. “Let's go.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Is the first thing they hear when they walk into the locker room. Jamie flinches.

“Fuck off, Isaac," Roy glares. His hand goes to the back of Jamie’s neck to anchor him. It is silent for a moment before everyone seems to start asking questions at once. Some of them are not even in English. Jamie's eyes go wide for a second, but he shakes it off. These were his friends, and they clearly had been feeling his loss.

“Jamie?” Keeley asks, and despite the chaos of the room, including Roy shouting at everyone to give them a fucking minute and they’d get their answers, Jamie hears her. He goes over to her.

“I’m sorry, Keeley,” Jamie says. “I didn’t know. My phone was dead, an’ I-Oof-” She half lunges at him and hugs him before he can finish his apology.

“You scared me,” she says when she looks up at him.

“Didn’t mean ta,” Jamie insists.

A loud whistle has everyone wincing and covering their ears. Jamie covers one of Keeley’s ears and presses her against his shoulder to cover the other. She can’t help but smile to herself. Can't keep the tears of joy away, either. He always surprises her these days. And not just by not being dead. He was so kind. He was easily one of her best friends. The whistle is followed by silence.

“Fucking hell,” Roy glares at Rebecca. She had taken Ted's whistle and blown it.

She shrugs. “Worked, didn’t it?

“You alright, Jamie?” Ted asks him when Keeley nudges Jamie and Roy further into the room. She sits on the bench in Jamie’s spot.

“Yeah, Coach,” he nods.

“Now I know you all have questions,” Roy says. “And they can fucking wait. Just listen.” He looks over at Jamie. Jamie’s nervous, and his hands are in his pockets

Roy just nudges him on.

“So you all know I went to visit me mum, haven’t seen her in years. Roy had me plan the whole week, but well, since when have I ever followed directions for that long?” Jamie grinned, earning a few chuckles.

“Yeah, I was set to be on that train from Manchester. Was supposed to spend the whole time in Manchester, but the less time I spent anywhere near those Man City pricks, the better. Seen too many of em over the week. So I had taken me mum to a cafe in Liverpool she likes. I took a later train from there. My phone was dead-”

“Of course, it was,” Sam shakes his head. “How did you survive before coach?”

"Feigned indifference and being overly cocksure, that’s how," Keeley answers. "But he's better now."

Jamie grins at her before continuing. “Right, so the mess out of Manchester delayed the whole fucking system, but no one was sure what train was the one that caused it, so by the time I got in, it was late, and I just went to bed. Didn't bother checkin’ or wakin' anyone."

“Must have been one hell of a shock for you, Roy,” Ted comments. Roy just grunts.

Jamie nods. “Pretty sure he didn’t think I was real, but that didn’t last long.” Jamie laughed. “Think he felt more in less than a minute than he knew he could.”

“Fuck off,” Roy says, but any impact the words might have had were undercut by the fact his hand was on the small of Jamie’s back like he was afraid to not have a physical connection to the man he thought he had lost.

“You knew all morning and are only telling us now?” Jan asks.

“If I had my way, you’d still all be in the fucking dark," Roy admits. Still not happy to have to share Jamie's attention so soon. "Don’t owe you shit when I'm at home."

That got a number of negative reactions from the players.

“He doesn’t mean that,” Ted says in an attempt to calm them. Roy grunts. Ted continues, “I know we all feel lucky to have you back, Jamie. Fellas you can ask him all the questions you want after training. Yesterday was a dark day, but today is brighter. Suns out, let’s get out there and get the ball rollin’.”

The players complain, but they go. Most patting Jamie on the back or hugging him in Dani’s case. Jamie laughed and hugged him back.

“Take your time, but not too much time,” Ted told Jamie as he followed the team out.

“You good?” Roy asks Jamie.

"Yeah, coach," Jamie nods and grins.

“Sure you want to train today?” Roy questions.

“You going to be fine if I do? It's a big pitch, and you haven't let me outta your grip since you woke up.” Jamie counters. Roy was still coming to terms with the emotional whiplash of the past day, and Jamie knows it. They had called Jamie's mum and Roy's sister when things had settled. Phoebe had been devastated when she thought Jamie was gone. Jamie had spent a good ten minutes convincing her that he was fine and they'd come to see her in a couple of days. Roy had barely let Jamie out of his sight the whole time. Roy just rolls his eyes and leaves him to change. Although Roy kept glancing over at him as he did. Roy goes over to where Keeley is talking to Rebecca and Higgins about a press release letting the fans know Jamie is fine and a statement about the accident. Maybe even getting some pictures proving Jamie was back training with the team. Rebecca had approved the idea, and Keeley had already texted a photographer friend to come round.

“None of that thought and prayers bullshit,” Roy tells them. “Empty fucking words.”

“He has a point. Maybe do a donation to the families or the workers. Thoughts and prayers seemed meaningless when he’d nearly thrown his remote at the tv when they started reading tweets about it on the news. Would have needed a new one if I wasn’t there,” Keeley says.

Jamie chuckles as he laces his boots and checks his shin guards. “Didn’t save the lamp,” Jamie grins.

“You didn't give a shit about that lamp. Could have been your stupid rabbit sculpture. That thing is-” Roy starts to say but stops when Jamie stands up and walks over.

“Fuck off,” Jamie grins. “Going to train, or you joinin’ the PR team?”

“Fucking Prick,” Roy grunts but goes with Jamie to the door.

“You fuckin’ luv me,” Jamie smirks.

“I fucking do,” Roy easily agrees. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Never,” Jamie gives him a kiss before they head out to join the team.

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coro-chan6 · 5 months

Text

Somehow Supernatural

Tags: teen!oc, gn!oc, poc!oc, Dean being Dean, weird dreams, CROWLEY, demon dogs, Dean being scared of said demon dogs

Summary: Casey goes to bed, has weird dreams, and gets to meet the King of Hell.

Chapter Three: Yummy Food and Weird Shit

I will never deny that I was a foodie. I mean, if you saw me when I devour anything put in front of me, you wouldn’t even have to ask. I love everything about food. Sometimes I mix stuff together that other people think is weird like when I dip my waffles and pancakes in orange juice. I used to be the kid in elementary school who would mix everyone’s leftover lunches together and actually go through with eating it.

One thing I learned from all my years of eating is that post-panic attack meals are the best. After crying half my weight in water and depriving my brain of oxygen, food just hits different. Plus, Dean brought back chicken nuggets.

“Slow down, you’ll choke,” Dean said as he reached his hand to take my nuggies away. I obviously wasn’t gonna just let him do that so, I smacked the shit out of his hand. I didn’t think I put that much power into it but when I heard the smack echo, I knew.

“Mmfh,” I was trying to apologize before he kicked me out on my ass, but my mouth was full of about 4 chicken nuggets. Dean glared at me and went back to eating his double bacon cheeseburger.

Sam had come to sit down across from Dean and me after he had finished preparing his salad. Dean asked if his brother wanted anything from the restaurant, but Sam insisted on eating salad. I love salad as much as anyone, but when someone offers to buy you fast food, you fucking take it. Salad be damned.

Castiel was seated next to Sam opposite of me. He didn’t need to eat, so he was just reading the menu that had come with the fast food. Occasionally, he would look up from his reading to glance at me. It didn’t look threatening, but it did look like he had something to say.

“So,” I had finally swallowed down the colossal amount of chicken I stuffed down my face, “When are we going to go on a hunt?”

“We?” Dean quirked his eyebrow at me.

“Yes, we, Dean. I might as well since I’m here. What else am I supposed to do?”

Dean crumbled up the empty wrapper of his meal, “Nothing.”

“Sam?” I turned to the younger Winchester. He had been really nice to me. He wouldn’t agree with Dean.

“I agree with Dean.”

Well fuck.

So, basically, I was in this new universe and I couldn’t do jack shit but sit underground. That was so unfair! They should at least take me once, but from their faces, it didn’t look like they were gonna change their minds.

What did they even have to do in the bunker? I know they have alcohol. Too much alcohol, in fact, but even if I was of age, I’m not really interested. They also have a library full of hunter books. I know that sounds cool and I shouldn’t be complaining, but who would want to read books about these cool ass monsters if you could see them in person? Not me, that’s for sure.

“They should go on a hunt,” Castiel stated, not taking his eyes off his menu. How was that so interesting to him?

…wait.

“Did you just say I could go?!” I squealed.

“Did you just say they could go?!” The brothers yelled in unison.

“They can go with me,” Castiel said finally putting his menu down, “They won’t be harmed.”

I ran over to the other side of the table to tackle Castiel in a hug because I was so happy. Fried nerves be damned. He kind of froze for a second before awkwardly patting my back. Sam and Dean were still trying to get the angel to not bring me, but he didn’t budge.

“Who would watch them if we’re all gone? They’re a child, they need protection.”

Dean scoffed at that like it wasn’t kind of true before he stood from the table and stalked off. Presumably to his room. Sam shook his head in disbelief before he retired as well.

Soon, Castiel and I were the only ones left at the table. I was still eating my fries and Castiel was staring at me. It would have been creepy if it had been anyone besides him, but he had this innocence about him that didn’t make him all that scary. Even though he was the only one here with powers strong enough to do God-knows-what, he didn’t make me feel frightened at all.

“Casey,” I perked up, “you should get some sleep. It’s late.”

I wasn’t sure how late it was because we were underground and I never asked, but now that Castiel brought up the subject of sleep, it made me yawn. I didn’t even register I was tired. It felt like it’d been so long since I last slept. I wasn’t sure if that was because of my eventful day or because it really had been that long.

I got up from the table and waved Castiel goodnight. I was halfway down the hallway before I realized that I didn’t know where I was going to sleep. No one had given me a room or anything.

I wonder where my body was staying before I got here.

Not wanting to bother anyone, I slinked over to the couch I had sat on earlier and laid down. The couch had a blanket that was thick enough and a couple of pillows that weren’t too uncomfortable.

The thing that made me so uneasy was the fact that it was out in the open. The couch sat against one of the walls of the library. I never did well with new sleeping spaces, but when those sleeping spaces were so big and dark that you weren’t sure what was hiding in there… I did not like it. Plus, I couldn’t watch YouTube before bed.

I’m not sure how, but I eventually went to sleep. I ended up in another void. This time I couldn’t see all my thoughts as words. This time I could see my mom. She was in the kitchen chopping vegetables. There was nothing on the stove and there was nothing in front of her to put the vegetables in. The only thing on the entire counter was the chopping board and the single carrot she was chopping. I wanted to know what she was doing and I tried to ask, but my mouth wouldn’t move. She looked me right in my eyes before she disappeared.

Next, I saw my dad. He was in the garage sitting on his motorcycle. The engine wasn’t running and the garage wasn’t even open, but my dad had all his gear on like he was gonna take off at any second. He wasn’t wearing his helmet though. I was standing in the doorway that lead from the house to the garage. My dad was facing in the other direction. He looked frozen in time. I couldn’t even see his body shift from breathing. It was like he was paused. I tried to walk up to him to tap him on the shoulder, but - again - I couldn’t move. My dad finally turned his face to me. Blood dripped from his mouth. Then, he disappeared too.

I saw my older brother out on the front porch. He was sitting in the gray chair that was facing me yet, I couldn’t see his face. His neck… his neck somehow had his head on backward. His fingers still typed at the computer on his lap even though he couldn’t see it. I didn’t try to move this time, but my brother did. One of his hands lifted off of the keyboard to point at something behind me. Then, he disappeared.

My little brother was next. He was in the basement playing on his gaming setup. Well, at least he was sitting at his gaming setup. His arms were at his sides and he was staring at a blank screen. I was standing directly behind him. I wanted to run. I didn’t want to see this creepy shit anymore, but I was stuck in place. I had to watch my little brother melt into a pile of flesh in his chair.

I didn’t like this dream. No matter how hard I tried to wake up, I couldn’t. I was stuck. Stuck watching some creepy version of my family from afar. I wished that I could hear Dean’s voice again. I wished he would wake me up by shaking my arms like he did before, but his voice never came. No one ever came. This wasn’t me feeling like a failure that didn’t deserve to be saved. I wanted to be saved. I needed to be saved.

“Save me!” A voice echoed through my head that I’d never heard before. I never heard this voice before, but I felt linked to them somehow. I wanted to reach out and save them like I wanted someone to save me. For the first time since my dream started, my body moved. I reached my hand out for this voice. I swear I felt them reach back.

~~~

“Fuck!” I woke up sitting straight up on the couch I fell asleep on. My hand was outstretched like I was reaching for… something? Someone. Who was I reaching for?

My blanket and pillows had fallen to the floor which wasn’t a surprise to me. Even when I wasn’t having creepy ass weird ass dreams, I was still a wild sleeper. What the fuck was that dream about anyway? I liked to believe that all dreams mean something, but I didn’t understand that one. Or maybe I was too scared to want to understand it. I’d come back to it later.

Right now, I was more concerned with the man sitting in the library. He looked concerningly like the King of Hell.

“Hello… new child,” Crowley said in his british accent. He was casually sipping on some of Sam and Dean’s alcohol stash. I felt underdressed even though I was wearing the same shit since I got here. It wasn’t half bad, but I kinda wanted to meet Crowley looking like myself. Or at least with my own dressing style and not this cringe shit. He was one of my favorite characters after all.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, slowly placing my feet flat on the floor.

“Not that long,” he shrugged.

I got up and walked toward him. I know he’s the King of Hell and all that jazz, but I really wanted to shake his hand. He didn’t look like he wanted to hurt me. He actually looked kind of curious.

I offered him my hand, “I’m Casey. Nice to meet the King of Hell face to face.”

Crowly smirked and shook my hand, “You know who I am and you think it’s nice to meet me. I’m surprised the Winchesters haven’t told you-”

“Get away from him!” Sam shouted as he practically slid into the room. It seemed like he rushed in here so fast he forgot to put a shirt on. He was only wearing his blue-patterned pajama pants. I looked at him with a ‘what the fuck’ face before turning back to Crowley. I know Sam was trying to look after me and shit, but he was not gonna make me walk away from the motherfucking King of Hell.

“I have so many questions if you don’t mind,” I told Crowley as I sat next to him. Sam let out a sound of protest, “What do the demon dogs look like? I know the whole thing is not seeing them, but I’ve always been curious. Also, what’s your favorite task to do as the King of Hell? Do you enjoy torture or do you only do it because you have to? Are other demons dumb cause how do they get killed by Sam and Dean so easily? Do you have wings-”

“You have to give me time to answer, you know,” I snapped my mouth closed, “For your first question… I could bring the demon dogs here if you’d like.”

“Yes!” I squealed.

“No!” yelled Sam.

Crowley brought out the summoning whistle from his jacket pocket. Sam looked like he was about to pass out, but he somehow managed to stay upright. I sorta forgot that Sam had trauma from the demon dogs. They killed his brother in what? Season 3?

I didn’t think Crowley was actually gonna go through with it, but he blew the whistle. I guess if the dogs don’t have orders to kill anyone, they won’t… hopefully.

“How can you tell when they’re here-”

I was cut off but something warm and wet wiping up my face. I let out a yelp of surprise before I realized it was most likely the dogs. I cautiously reached my arms out to feel for its body. My hands connected with soft fur. The dog or dogs - I felt multiple tongues licking at my face - were pretty big by the feel of it. Maybe the size of a pony? They were muscly as hell though.

“How many did you call?” I asked Crowley.

“Just one. They have multiple heads. You can ask Dean about that.”

Sam gave the demon a glare for his assholish comment before he spoke up, “Why the hell are you here, Crowley?”

“Well,” Crowley looked back at me. I bet it looked like I was petting air, “I came here to see them.”

Sam was confused. I was confused. Why the hell did the King of Hell have business with me? Even though I had no idea what Crowley wanted with me and whether or not I was in danger, I kept petting the demon dog. I didn’t know when I was gonna have the opportunity to do this again.

“You’re not taking them,” Sam said, pulling an angel knife from his ass.

“I’m not taking them. Calm down, moose,” Crowley finally stood up from his chair, “I just wish to talk with them.”

“I don’t see why not,” I pipped in.

“He’s the fricken King of Hell!” Sam yelled like ruling the underworld was a crime.

“And?” I replied.

“And you're not talking to him!”

“Well, last time I checked, you weren’t the fucking boss of me, dude.” I stood up from petting the demon dog and gave Sam a glare. I was getting fed up with Sam telling me what to do. First, he told me he didn’t want me going on hunts, and now this? I hadn’t even known him for a full 24 hours!

“You’re a child, Casey! No!”

“I’m not your fucking child, Sam, so buzz the fuck off!”

The demon dog started barking really loud after I said that. The air stilled. Crowley was smirking throughout Sam and I’s whole argument, but now his face was filled with genuine surprise. Sam looked scarily angry.

“You lied,” Sam stated. The angel knife that was once pointed at Crowley was now pointed at me, “You are some kind of monster.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I said, breathless. Fear shot up my spine.

“Your eyes… they turned red.”

AN: Crowley's one of my favorite characters and in later chapters sometimes he just comes back for not reason other than I like him. I know I do shit on Dean, but like, I still like him. He's just not my favorite out of the trio. And yes, superpowered OC. Gotta love it.

#spn fanfic #oc character #crowley #nonbinary #teen!oc #poc!oc #gn!oc #sam winchester #deanwinchtser #dean x castiel #castiel #demon dogs #weird dreams #superpowered oc #supernatural #spnfandom #spn fandom #supernatural fanfiction

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masterthespianduchovny · 2 years

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Although Sydney is inexperienced compared to Carmy, she’s positioned as an equal of sorts by the series. The series doesn’t simply state that she worked at good restaurants, she worked at some of the best restaurants and they even have Carmy say, “this is some serious heat” when referring to that. He also states that she’s OVERqualified.

It’s not enough to mention the quality of her previous work, Carmy stated the obvious.

And, imo, Sydney wanting to stage for him, with the fact that she’s overqualified in mind, says that it’s not from a mentee perspective, but rather, as someone who feels that there is always more to learn. She’s not not new to this or even in Marcus’ position, which now that I think about it makes the argument that their relationship is one of a mentor/mentee strange, this woman has worked under man accomplished chefs and owned her own business at one point.

Before we found out about her failed catering business, we get hints that Sydney knows what the fuck she’s doing even outside of being a chef. She writes COGs for Carmy, which he admits within that episode, I believe, that she was right about sandwiches killing them. So we see that Sydney is observant and smart as fuck. There were several things she noted or anticipated—detail oriented. We also see her display on the spot and creative thinking when she seemingly has no other options and builds a fucking outdoor grill.

It wasn’t enough for Sydney to express the same beliefs about a new way of running a kitchen, we are given tidbits that she can run a kitchen/restaurant.

And, I could be wrong about this next part, but when the show has Syd tell us that her business failed, it wasn’t because it was poorly run. She explicitly says “it got too big too fast.” Her business was doing well—too well, but she couldn’t handle the demand and that’s why it failed. (Cooks and restaurant people can correct me on this.) from what I understand, esp with black entrepreneurs, many of their business fail not because it’s bad or poorly run, but because they cannot expand and get more capital to meet the demand, which sounds like Sydney’s situation. She may have needed more resources than she was given, which ruined her.

Then, to further hone in on how Sydney is viewed as an equal, they have Marcus literally so he learned so much from her and Carmy and that they taught him/were good at different things.

Sydney does still have some learning to do, however, I don’t think this show was ever positioned as Sydney and Carmy being mentor/mentee. Of course we know Sydney finds Camry impressive, but Carmy finds her impressive too and not in a “she’s a great nice upcoming chef to take under my wing”, but as in someone who is just about on his level and that he can partner with.

Despite her occasional greenness, that’s why Carmy extends a partnership to her in the end. He’s seen enough! He knows this is a person who wants to do business with.

And they balance each other out too! Syd can be too impatient and Carmy can be too slow, but they both push each other, try to hold each other accountable, and learn from one another.

There is a deep respect there. These two basically share the same brain cell, but work different parts of it. 🥹

Like…*chef’s kiss* 🧑🏼‍🍳👩🏾‍🍳

#and chefs kiss…👀#the bear #the bear on Hulu #the bear fx #sydney adamu #carmy berzatto #the bear meta

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mocolococoffeesimp · 1 year

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Can I get some ramlethal relationship headcanons pls?

Most certainly, dear anon.

Relationship headcanons for Ramlethal.

-Ramlethal would absolutely be confused by her newfound attraction to you. Her chest feeling warm, whenever you're nearby. She didn’t find the unpleasant, she was very curious about what this warm feeling was.

-No way would she realize what is going on. She would consult Elphelt to explain her emotions.

-Elphelt would be overjoyed that Ram felt like that about someone. Only for Ram to get confused on what to do about it. Elphelt would suggest for Ram to act at once, stating that “You never know, when they might be someone. You must act right away!”

-Elphelt being Elphelt, would suggest the most romantic confession ever made. Only for all of it to fly over Ram's head. She doesn’t see the point of extravagant asking.

-Ram decided to do it her way. Walk up to you, and bluntly as possible ask you out. Her heart did beat faster than usual, but she ignored it and walked up to you.

"I like you, (Y/N). Will you go out with me?" Her voice staying deadpan as ever, only indication she's nervous, being her slight head-turn at the end of her sentence.

-Food dates. So many food dates. You go to different restaurants often, for her to try different kinds of foods. So far nothing has defeated the cheeseburger. You do go to Danny Missiles to eat their food. This also includes cooking new dishes for her. She would want to learn how to cook, which in turn ends up in her starting a fire.

-But as time goes on she learns how to cook. And, she becomes a decent cook. You would cook with her, spending some quality time with her.

-Lots of movie dates. She gets both study of emotions and enjoyment out of them. You two usually go to cinemas, as you can combine the snack aspect of it and the emotional aspect. She picks a different snack every time. This also goes for the genre of a movie.

-Nothing is off the table for Ram, when it comes to movies. From action movies to rom-coms, she’ll watch everything. (Elphelt has a tendency to be a third wheel, when you go watch romance movies. She just can’t help herself.)

-You'll have to explain a lot of things to her. Different emotions, what they mean. During the movies too. She does catch on relatively quickly, what the plot is about. The emotions are the hard part. And, more non literal stuff. Sayings such as "Running away with tail between their legs.” Or, "Break a leg."

“Break a leg? Whose I have to break?”

“It means good luck, Ram. It’s an idiom.”

“That’s a strange way to say it.”

-She does learn how to use sayings. Just be patient. It takes a while for her to understand when it is appropriate to use one.

-She enjoys cuddling with you. But, isn't sure how to initiate it. This often ends up her following you around, when she wants to cuddle with you.

-Ram holds her arms towards you, with her expression the same as ever.

“Cuddle with me.” And, what are you supposed to do? Deny her request? So,she cuddles with you while you work. At some point, you turn down your work, gently remove her hat, and start playing with her hair.

-This causes Ram to press Ram harder on your palm. She seems like a cat seeking for your warmth. She wraps her arms around you, placing her head on to your chest listening to your heartbeat. Just enjoying the moment.

-Speaking of her hat, you do occasionally get to wear it. When you do, Ram finds you cute with it. She just might get you matching one as a gift.

-Ram would definitely steal some of your clothes. She would just walk around the apartment with just one of your hoodies on. In her mind, it’s no different than sharing your dinner.

-The magehound Sin gave her would be constant in your relationship. Morning walks, taking care of it. It would also join you two in your cuddling sessions. Morning walks are relaxing times. When both of you just walk around with magehound, you two arms linked. Ram is bit bashful about holding hands, but she won’t deny it from you, when you wrap your hand around hers.

-When you fall asleep before her, she likes to play with your hair. A gentle smile on her face. Wondering how wonderful emotions and life are when spent with the right people.

#guilty gear x reader #guilty gear headcanons #guilty gear strive #guilty gear #guilty gear ramlethal #guilty gear ramlethal x reader #guilty gear ramlethal x gn reader

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baronmagikcarp · 1 month

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I'm thinking of that last post I just reblogged, about vacations, and I wanted to throw out my plan I have for doing interesting stuff on no budget. The only thing I think you require for this is the willingness to try something different.

Check out your local tourist bureau for your city/state/country. See what kind of brochures and stuff you can get a hold of. My state's tourism department will ship books and brochures of things to do for free. I get everything they have once a year and the wife and I winnow through it.

Check out your local chamber of commerce. Not as useful but it has a few gems occasionally.

Check out your local parks department. They'll often have events going on of all kinds.

Check out your local college/university, especially if they have a performing arts school. I go to free concerts all the time at one that's just blocks from my house.

Check out the local library. They'll have events going on and they deserve the support.

Use Google Maps. Google itself might be kind of crap for searching for anything anymore but Google Maps isn't half bad. Just type something like "[Name of City] Museum" and you'll get some results. I've also just randomly scrolled around an area I'm interested in and seen what pops up. Found several interesting restaurants and museums that way.

Get on mailing lists for all of the above. If you're worried about spam, you can always set up a second email address for just these.

I'll say that I've seen websites, such as MeetUp, recommended before but I've never had great luck. I think part of that is the state I live in isn't really well known for clubs and such so I don't have a lot of experience with that.

In some cases, you can't get away with paying for something. You gotta research a little though and sometimes you can get it cheaper or even free. An example would be that most of the museums in my area cost to enter but they also often have reduced admission days or even the occasional free day. The local zoo used to discount admission after a certain time. I also know that our local blood bank gave out tickets to things for donations. Check out the library. I know ours have what they call experience passes which are little passes you can check out that give four people admission to a local attraction.

The other thing is be willing to go somewhere and just walk around and hang out. Festivals are good for this. My state has a lot of agriculture based festivals so sometimes it's just going to hang out at the local peach festival for a day and see someplace new. They'll often have free entertainment, like bands and such, going on as well. It's just a matter of being willing to get out and experience something coupled with a bit of research.

#vacation

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abigailxiang · 3 months

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If You Go Down in the Woods Today || Solo

Timing: March 10th, 2024, late at night.

Location: Outskirts of the West Rock Ridge State Park

Description: If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise. If you go down in the woods today, you'd better go in disguise. AKA Abigail ruins the Qiongqi's picnic.

Warnings: TW Blood, Gore.

Since moving from Boston to New Haven, it seemed that Abigail's entire life revolved around work. By day, she was working at the Divinity Library helping them translate and categorize Chinese texts, occasionally restoring the odd scrap or two. It was easy enough to maintain her cover profession when it was, in fact, something she enjoyed. The texts were often fascinating from a history stand point, even if the content was dull, and the near total independence she had with her job made it almost feel fun.

And by night, she did the job that she was truly born to do. Abigail would listen to police scanners and cross reference mentions of odd happenings on the local message boards while she ate dinner. Sometimes nothing would pan out and it would be a quiet few hours in the bunker, either digitizing the family texts or maintaining her materials.

Other nights would be exactly like this. After the rather... disastrous encounter at the restaurant with Sutton and the boy in the boat shoes, Abigail had spent the rest of her free afternoon tracking down a hunt. She had heard whispers of people going missing, of a man found horribly mauled. The state troopers thought it was a bear, or a wolf. But the message boards thought differently. And so did she.

Killing the engine of her motorbike, Abigail hid the vehicle under a camouflage tarp and threw a few stray branches over it. Hardly necessary, given the darkness, but still. It never hurt to cover your tracks.

And tracks were exactly what Abigail was looking for now. Picking her way through the forest, she walked with ease in the moonlight. Fangxiangshi never had to worry about the dark if there was even a glimmer of light and when her eyes fell upon the torn up branches, the mud pressed with giant foot pads too large for wolves or bears, the tracks may as well have glowed. Her spear thumped against her back as she followed the trail. She stepped deliberately into the tracks, digging her heel in to destroy the marks behind her. Better for the park rangers to think some bumbling idiot had wandered off trail than to poke around here.

Abigail trekked through the forest, ears pricked and attentive. If a monster came charging at her, she might not be able to see it, but she'd certainly be able to hear it. She kept her breathing even and slow as she moved, the familiarity of the hunt meditative. She had always found it easier to think on these hikes out to battle, because it kept her mind off the fact that she might very well be marching towards her death.

Right now, though? Abigail focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She did not particularly want to think about anything else besides the hunt at this current point in time. Because the thing that had been on her mind the most, as of late, was another hunt. Another creature. But one unlike any she'd been on before.

She sucked in a sharp breath, mentally kicking herself. No. She wasn't going to think about black eyes and horns and blonde hair. She was focused and she was calm and she wouldn't--

A rancid, foul scent wafted from upwind and Abigail's stomach clenched reflexively. No matter how many time she smelled the stench of death and flesh and blood, she would never get used to the first whiff. Steeling herself, Abigail's hand drew her spear and she held it at her side. She followed both her nose and the tracks deeper into the forest until the scent became almost unbearable. Her eyes darted around, trying to find the source until something dripped onto her shoulder. A dark, sticky smear spread across her black robes.

Abigail looked up, directly into the gaping, ragged stump of crushed bone and tendon that made up what had once been a human neck. The body hung upside down in the trees and Abigail grimaced at the outstretched fingers just above her head. Legs bent unnaturally in the branches of the trees and the hiking pants the victim had been wearing were shredded, as was the flesh beneath. Guts poked out from three large slash marks across the corpse's stomach, the contents dribbling down the victim's chest. It explained the smell, for one.

But it didn't explain where--

The Yaoguai descended from the tree, black feathered wings beating more quietly than any creature of its size should be. Years of training and honing her reflexes were the only reason that Abigail was able to dive out of the way from the giant beast that had descended upon her.

What should have been white fur was matted in blood and two curved, glittering horns protruded from its skull. A curved beak melted into the furred snarling face and body of a tiger, with massive wings spreading to pull it from the steep dive. The wings flapped, sending leaves and twigs flying through the air as it hovered above her.

"Wángbādàn." Abigail swore as her mind raced, mentally scrolling through the pages and pages of knowledge acquired by her ancestors. A Qiongqi. Gāisǐ de Qiongqi-- of all the monsters, it had to be a flying one. At least they were far from water. Qiongqi could control water creatures and the last thing she needed were drowned spirits returning to fight with it.

Her talismans would do nothing against this threat; there was nothing spiritual about this monster. And there was only one way of handling that.

The Qiongqi let out a noise halfway between a shriek and roar before diving again towards Abigail, talon-like claws appearing from the massive paws. Abigail dodged, launching herself out of the way with all the strength she could muster. The creature landed hard on the ground, talons embedded in the earth where she had stood only seconds before. She hefted her spear, preparing to swing, but the Qiongqi pulled its front claws from the ground with ease, tearing dirt and roots along with it.

She backed away, keenly aware of her surroundings. She would not be backed up against a tree or trip over a root. That was how a lesser Fangxiangshi would die. No, Abigail was a Xiang. And while she was only the eldest daughter of a youngest son, she would uphold the family honor.

Spear kept at the ready, she and the creature circled one another. The creature's yellow eyes watched her with more intelligence than any animal could ever have, waiting for her to strike. Abigail kept her composure before setting off the creature's trap.

She stabbed at the creature's front paw with her Qiang, the red tassels flashing through the air. The Yaoguai reacted with lightning speed, withdrawing the targeted paw and lashing out with the opposite. But, Abigail had expected as much. In a fluid motion, she raised the tip of her spear from where the paw had been and stepped towards the beast, her spear now positioned right at the breastbone of the Qiongqi. With as much power as she could muster, Abigail thrust the spear into the monsters body. A lesser blade would have skittered off the bone, but the Qiang had been built for her kind. The thick spearhead was just as much a bludgeon as it was a blade and it smashed through the bone and pierced into the creature's chest.

The Qiongqi let out a roar of pain and stumbled backwards, wrenching the spear from her grasp. Abigail grimaced. It was still alive. Of course it was still alive. And her spear was firmly lodged in its flesh.

Reaching for her belt, Abigail pulled the short sword she kept at her side for emergencies. This certainly qualified as an emergency. The Zhi Bei Da she wielded was far too short for her to defend with or for her to launch any kind of frontal attack. But, it was better than her staff. It was strong, but she had a feeling it would crumple against the yaoguai before her.The Qiongqi let out a shrill cry before charging at her, murderous intent filling its eyes.

Abigail feinted left before diving to the right in a tight tucked ball, feeling the monster's claws pass through the air over her body. She sprang to her feet in an instant, spinning on the ball of her foot to set the Qiongqi back in her sights. The momentum of its attack had taken it further forward than it had intended and its back was to her for a brief second.

That was all the opportunity she needed.

Without a word, Abigail sprinted towards the creature and, when she was a few scant feet from colliding with its side, she leaped into the air. Her sword slammed down into the back of the creature. Blood welled up around the sword blade and, when the Qiongqi screamed in pain, it sprayed across her face. She grunted, blinded by the blood, but kept her grasp firm. Using her weight, she began to pull the blade through muscle and tendon, sawing through flesh towards the spinal column.

The beast's efforts intensified, spurned on by pain, but Abigail continued to pull the blade and then, suddenly, the monster fell to the ground.

The Qionqi's legs gave out from under it and the monster's weight pushed the spear deeper into its body. Unable to hold itself up, the Yaoguai impaled itself on her sword with a final gurgling gasp. She held her position, counting in her head until she was satisfied that the monster was truly dead.

Still blinded by the blood in her eyes, Abigail stood up and withdrew the sword from the Qiongqi's body. It wasn't difficult, she could feel the body eroding beneath her already, the flesh turning to putrid ooze. She mopped the blood from her face with the back of her hand and grimaced as bones emerged from the ooze, pockmarks beginning to appear in the white.

She extricated herself from the melting corpse, ignoring the way the mess clung to her boots and robes. She retrieved her spear and gave it a cursory glance. Not even bent. Abigail slid her Zhi Bei Da into its scabbard before letting out a long breath.

She watched the Yaoguai's corpse bubble and seethe until nothing but a dark stain of evil remained on the ground before her. Abigail pulled a yellow piece of paper from her pocket and tossed it onto the ground, the sullied earth erupting into flames.

Abigail's eyes watched the holy fire as it cleansed space and she couldn't help but wonder. Could she have done what she did if the Qiongqi had stared at her from behind blue, nearly human eyes?

#solo 001

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