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ab4eva · 1 year

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‘Tomorrow Will Be Too Late’

Part 5

Summary: Elvis Presley x Reader / For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved two things - Elvis Presley and time travel. After seeing the 1968 Comeback Special for the first time, you decide to try and get back to him for one incredible night, by any means necessary.

Author’s note: I must thank my darling Marina for helping me really flesh out the storyline in this chapter. I came to her with my idea, and she said “Darling, now we’re talkin’ southern gothic and that’s my jam.” She really helped me get the vision for it, talked it out with me and for that I am incredibly grateful. She also contributed a couple of lines so thank you baby! Also gotta shoutout my other two wives, Ally & Birdy, for their constant support, love & creativity. And last but never least, all of you who are invested in this story. You keep me going when I feel like I can’t go on with it. I cherish your screams and your support. 💕

Warnings: Angst, mention of death, sad Elvis, language.

Word count: 4.4k

TWBTL masterlist

I love you more today

More today than yesterday

But I love you less today

Less than I will tomorrow

Elvis grips her shoulders, her body trembling under her thin, white nightgown, her eyes haunted and wild. She lifts a hand and presses a soft, warm palm to his cheek, looking for all the world like she knows him, really knows him, and is sorry for him. Like she’s trying to comfort him. At her touch, the hearing in his left ear vanishes, the chirping birds and crickets filtering through lopsidedly. Elvis shakes his head and a ringing noise slowly filling his ears as his hearing returns, a calmness settling over him. The feeling of deep grief, that heavy ache in his heart, has subsided a tiny bit, the tears that had tracked down his cheeks earlier are dry. Her hand slips from his face with a sigh, and her eyelashes flutter closed as she slumps in his arms. He gently lays her on the grass, smoothing the hair from her forehead and patting her cheek gently.

“Aw hell, honey. Wake up. Please wake up.” A familiar voice floats somewhere above you, a desperate, pleading edge coloring the words. “Aw hell,” you hear him swear again, and struggle to open your eyes. A large, warm hand cups your face, alternately patting lightly and stroking. It feels so nice you’re tempted to let the nothingness pull you under again. There’s a reason you want to let it…you just can’t recall what it is. And that voice, so familiar, yet - not as you remember. It’s higher, for a start, not the deep, rumbling tone you’re used to. And quicker, running words together almost as if he can’t get them out fast enough, like his mouth can’t keep up with the ideas tumbling from his head. You’re used to the slow and steady pace of his thoughts made manifest.

“Come on, be a good girl and open those pretty little eyes for me. I saw ‘em lookin’ at me before, like you’d seen a ghost or somethin’. Now why would you look at me that way, honey? I ain’t ever seen you before in my life.” He carries on a one-sided conversation and somewhere in your foggy brain you find it amusing. “Now, I-I-I don’t know what’s wrong with ya, why y-y-you’re actin’ like this but I-I-I need ya to get up now. You hear me? Wake up, dammit!” He shakes you gently by the shoulders, then a little more forcefully and you can hear the fear in his voice. He’s scared. You hate that he’s scared, hate that you’re the one that’s made him this way. This, more than anything, breaks you from your fog and your eyes blink open. He’s backlit against the pale, misty morning light and for a moment, you can believe it’s your Elvis staring back at you, so eerily similar in their shapes and contours - the sharp curve of cheekbone and strong jaw. The swooping hair and broad shoulders. But…he isn’t your Elvis. And everything comes flooding back in a painful flash that has you sitting up and doubling over, all at once. You feel a light hand on your back as you clutch your stomach, trying to breathe in and out, trying to still the racing of your heart, not to mention the terrifying cacophony of thoughts jumbling your mind.

“Just breathe, baby. Good girl,” he whispers, and it makes your stomach turn. For a moment you’re jolted upside down and back again, his words ringing in your ears, and you’re filled with a coldness so deep you begin to shake. You remember the last time you heard him speak those exact words to you…in the hallway of NBC studios, when he knelt beside you just like this, hand on your back, murmuring quietly as if to a skittish colt. Now his hand begins to rub slow circles between your shoulder blades, his palm barely meeting your skin, an attempt at calming you…but it burns like fire. “You must be cold,” he continues quietly and it makes your arms tighten around your middle as you bend further in on yourself, silent tears falling, short gasping breaths only adding to your chill. You wish he’d stop touching you, wish he’d take his hand off your back. His palm is so feather-light, as if he’s afraid of too much contact now that you’ve come around. It’s a reminder that he isn’t the Elvis you left. Your Elvis would have his arms around you in a heartbeat, he’d be pulling you into his lap, truly comforting you. Your Elvis wouldn’t be afraid to touch you. You scoot forward a little, desperate to get away from his scorching touch.

She’s a curious thing, isn’t she? Elvis thinks, wondering why she’s leaning away from his touch, when he’s used to women doing the opposite. For the moment, his grief is forgotten, moved to the back of his mind. How did she get here? And why? Who is she? These questions and so many more are doing somersaults in his mind, slicing through the overwhelming sadness he had been trying to escape. Early morning walks in the back pasture at Graceland had been the only thing that seemed to calm his spirit since his mama got sick. Since his mama went and left him, went and left him to spend the rest of her time with Jesse. Somewhere in his heart he knew it was selfish to try and keep her from her other son. Jesse needed Mama too, and Elvis took a tiny bit of comfort in knowing they were together again. It wasn’t much but it was all he had to cling to these days.

And then this woman had just…appeared. Out of nowhere, out of thin air. He’d been been walking and crying, talking to God, begging him for a sign that he hadn’t been fully abandoned, completely forsaken. A sign that things would be ok somehow. He had felt so utterly alone since his mama left this earth. He had so much love left for her and he didn’t know where to put it now. Didn’t know what to do with all this love that was running through his veins for her. And then there she was…she knew his name, she seemed to know him. Not like the world knew him, not “Elvis the Pelvis” or “The Memphis Flash,” not even “Elvis the Movie Star.” Just him, just Elvis. Her wild eyes had held so much…love. And pain.

When she touched him he had felt - like he was floating above his grief instead of walking hand in hand with it. A small reprieve. Had God seen fit to take his mama but send him another instead, someone to help him? Help him see a way through this darkness, this despair that was eating him alive, tearing at his insides day after day? A way through the troubled thoughts that too often swirled uninvited in his mind. Dark visions of a river rushing over him, of letting it pull him under, letting it take away the pain. It was almost as if…as if her touch had absorbed his grief, as if she had taken some of it from him and into herself. That must be why she had passed out, why she couldn’t stop crying now. An angel. Angel of Grief. An answer to his prayer. He wasn’t alone, not anymore.

Elvis suddenly wraps his arms around you and the heat radiating off of him warms you almost instantly. You freeze, not expecting the sudden closeness. But you shiver in his arms, and the familiar feeling of them comforts you. His arms are the same - same strength, same bones, same flesh. He’s mumbling something into your hair, you can only make out snatches of words. You hear him whisper “mama” and “…sent me an angel.” On instinct you wrap your arms around his waist, spanning his back as your head falls onto his shoulder and you melt into his embrace. You sit there a minute, each comforting the other, until he pulls away and looks at you, wonder and awe and a little bit of shyness lighting his features.

“You alright? You had me scared there for a minute. You’re not hurt, are ya?” His hands flutter lightly over you, as if to make sure that you aren’t physically injured. His concern makes your heart skip a beat and you open your mouth to respond but your breath catches in your throat. This is as close to young Elvis as you’ve been and you take him in, fully, for the first time. He’s familiar of course, you know him too. Just not in the same way your knew your Elvis. This one you know from his movies, from the countless pictures you’ve seen of him from this time period, from the TV performances. He’s different entirely from the man you left, and now that you’re getting your bearings, you don’t feel quite so shocked by him. His cobalt eyes are red-rimmed, dark circles underneath marring his his beautiful face.

“Is she ok?” he asks suddenly, looking at you expectantly, his eyebrows drawing together as worry etches across his pretty features. You’re confused by this question, seemingly out of the blue.

“Is she…” you start, unsure of what he means.

“Mama…is she ok?” he asks again, waiting for an answer like you’re the only one who can give it. And it dawns on you, remembering his whispered words a minute ago, his sudden closeness. It can’t be. Can it? Does he really think you’re…an angel? You knew Elvis was a spiritual man, always in tune with things not of this world. It makes perfect sense from everything you’ve ever read or heard about him. It just- fits. But how will you explain it to him in the future, your presence here. Does he not remember… Oh. Your stomach drops and you think of all the times he said he remembered you but couldn’t place you. How he insisted that you’d met before. And you passed it off as a man who had met too many people, seen too many faces and you just reminded him of someone else. In his haze of grief he’s convinced himself you’re an angel. You swallow, unsure of how to proceed, unsure if you can actually pull this off. Let him believe you’re not human, an angelic being. It makes you uncomfortable, like you’re lying to him. But the hopeful look on his face and the fact that you have no good reason for being here makes up your mind for you. He’s still looking at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“She’s fine, Elvis. She’s just fine,” you whisper, blinking back tears that threaten to fall again as you cup his cheek, your thumb running over the rough stubble gathered there. “I know how much you loved your Satnin. I know how hard this is for you.”

Elvis looks at her, startled. How did she know…Satnin? No one but family and close friends knew he called his mama that. There’s no way she should know this, but she does. He shouldn’t be surprised, shouldn’t be shocked but he is. It’s just further confirmation that this woman, this angel, was sent here to help him, comfort him.

“You’re in pain,” he says, eyebrows drawing together again, this time with concern for you. “You took it didn’t you? When you touched me? Took my sadness, took it upon yourself knowing I’d have a chance to heal a little bit. It nearly killed ya in the process.”

This man, your man. Only he would be concerned for a angel, a supernatural being. It’s the first thing that endears you to this strange version of the man you love. He can’t understand the complexity of your pain, the part of you that aches for this boy who just lost his mother, who would do anything to take away his sadness. He thinks you’ve done just that - a small mercy. And the other part of you that aches for the man you love, the man you left, the man you might never see again. And so you say the only thing you’re capable of at the moment - “I’m alright. I’ll be alright,” you reassure him, shivering again, the dampness from the ground seeping through your nightgown. It’s unseasonably cool this morning, a rare summer dawn that holds more chill than warmth at this early hour. Elvis notices and helps you stand, holding onto you while you get your balance.

“Let’s go for a drive,” he says suddenly. “Always helps me clear my head. ‘Sides, got a blanket in my car so you can warm up.” He gently takes your hand in his, tentatively at first but when you instinctively lace your fingers through his, he smiles at you, a small sad smile, and squeezes your hand. Another little piece of your heart clicks into place.

It’s quiet on the road, you wrapped in the scratchy wool blanket Elvis has pulled from the trunk and him in the driver’s seat, absentmindedly tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel to a song only he can hear. He keeps looking over at you, as if to reassure himself that you’re still there, that you’re not gonna disappear on him. You see him breathe a sigh of relief every time, his shoulders relaxing, the small exhale of breath a constant, soothing reminder in the silent car. You’re not sure how to talk to him, still disoriented and shell-shocked as you traverse the empty Memphis streets, the ten-year gap from this boy in 1958 to the man in 1968 becoming ever more apparent the more you drive through town. Mercifully, he breaks the silence with a question.

“Jesse?” A word. Just one word. A word that holds so much hope, and a great deal of fear. It reaches out and takes hold of you, this word, heavy with meaning and love and a strange sort of grief. The kind of grief that is placed upon you by others. Well-meaning, intended with love, but forced upon you nonetheless. It’s mixed with his own grief, the kind he has come to recognize with time and self-reflection and that unknowable ache that is always with him, as near and dear to him as the brother - twin - he lost. You realize he’s asking if Jesse is ok.

“Jesse’s happy. He’s with your mama now…they have each other and they’re ok. They both miss you something awful, though. Your daddy too.” You glance at him out of the corner of your eye and see him blink rapidly, futilely willing the tears that threaten to fall to stay put. You bite your lip and look back out the window, feeling like a intruder on his heartache. He sniffs and clears his throat, hurriedly swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You alright? Elvis?” you murmur quietly as you cover his hand resting on the seat between you with your own, running your thumb in gentle circles over his skin. He nods, still too choked up to speak, and gives you a quick, watery smile.

“I’m gonna be alright, darlin’,” he pauses, unsure of how to go on. “If I don’t get a chance to tell you before you go…thank you.” You smile, entirely charmed by this sweet and gentle boy, so unlike the man you know.

“She was very special, wasn’t she? Your best girl,” you press his hand, gently encouraging him, thinking maybe it’ll do him some good to talk about his feelings.

“Mama is…was…my best friend. She took care of me, like no one else could, not even Daddy, not even Dodger.” He tries to keep his voice steady, tries and fails.

“You were her special boy, her whole life. She put all of her love and care into you, didn’t she? Couldn’t bear to be parted from you, not even for a little while. Took you with her when she worked the cotton fields…you couldn’t have been more than a few months old when she was dragging you in a sack beside her, picking cotton til her fingers bled. That’s true love.”

He pales, the blood draining from his face as his mouth opens, a sharp inhale of breath the only sound in the car except the pounding of your own heart. You realize your mistake almost immediately. You shouldn’t know that about him. It’s too intimate, too personal. He isn’t so far removed from that life. The problem with Elvis having been dead for over forty years is that every single person who ever knew him feels the need to talk about him. Even those that didn’t know him talk about him, write books and articles and papers about him. Research his life and his parent’s life and on and on.

“How did…” he starts to say, looking spooked, but then his face relaxes and he lets out a ghost of a laugh, a little huff of air that leaves his half-upturned lips and he shakes his head. “Gosh, it’s good to talk about mama with someone who really knew her. Daddy can’t bear to talk about her now…and he’s the only other person who really knew her like I did. Loved her like I did.”

You take his hand again without a word and grasp it lightly, encouraging him to go on. He does, and you talk about his mother with him while he drives and cries, and the sun comes up fully, painting Memphis a beautiful rosy color, the late summer sun bouncing off the brick buildings, the leafy green trees waving to you as you pass. Before you know it, hours have gone by, and you see the gates of Graceland come into view. You can see a crowd gathered there, and it’s a shock to your system after the quiet, cozy drive. You start to panic, there are women with cameras everywhere. You can’t be photographed with Elvis, in 1958. You simply can’t.

“Elvis, I can’t…I don’t…” you aren’t able to finish your thought, you’re getting closer to Graceland by the second and you’re frozen in fear, powerless to do anything about it. Somehow Elvis understands what you’re trying to say, how you feel.

“Just lay down, darlin’, I’ll cover you with the blanket. No one’ll see you, I promise,” he glances at you knowingly, and you slide to the floorboard, your knees hitting the carpet as he pulls the blanket over your head. You peek through your cover and watch him as he pushes his sadness to the side as he pulls into the drive, his fans a comfort to him now more than ever before. Showering him with love, not the kind that he used to get from his mama, but love all the same. And he soaks it up like drought-stricken earth.

You realize with a start that you’ve seen this photograph of him, have alway been enchanted by it. The slender figures of the women outside his gates, cameras raised to hide their faces. Hiding their faces while capturing his. His long, slender arm hanging outside of the open Cadillac, hand drooping lazily as if in invitation. That hair, those sideburns. You’ve seen this photograph a dozen times…you just didn’t realize you’d be next to him when it was taken. And the oddest feeling courses through your veins, not quite deja vu but something hauntingly similar. In a flash, you see all the men he will become. The all-American Army boy: soft and young when he leaves for Germany, lean, older and wiser when he returns. The slick, Hollywood Ken Doll: singing and dancing his way through film after film, a continuous montage of tiny white shorts, red windbreakers and cowboys hats on an endless loop. The slender ‘68 Comeback Special man: a gritty, leather-clad force of nature reminding everyone why he was a star in the first place. The glittery gaudiness of Las Vegas: jumpsuits and karate moves, hundreds of women kissed each week and left begging for more. And finally, as if he somehow knew he was nearing the end of his life, a return to the soft and round form much like the one he had entered the world in.

But all of that was before him still and only you have the privilege and pain of seeing all that he was, all that he would become. Beside you now sits the young and eager boy with his whole life ahead of him. Only you can look into his eyes and see the man you knew and didn’t know. The man you loved and didn’t love. The man who would become more than an icon, almost god-like in his legacy. You ache to tell him all these things, to spare him pain and save him in some way. But you risk losing everything you’ve gained so far if you do, and so you simply hold his hand as he drives you through the gates of Graceland, posing for the girls outside as he does.

In a moment it’s over, this flash of past, present and future that leaves you reeling, suffocating under a blanket and heaped on the floorboard of Elvis’s car. Just when you think you might panic, he pulls the blanket off your head and pats the seat next to him. You manage to crawl back onto the seat just as you’re pulling up to the house and it hits you, why it was so familiar before. This moment has simultaneously not happened yet and already happened, sixty five years prior. Time travel is trippy, you can’t even begin to wrap your head around it.

Elvis feels a little bit lighter now, like a tiny sliver of sun peeking through the clouds on a stormy day. Still heartbroken, but maybe like he can go on somehow. The ache is still there, it would always be there. Seeing his mama the past couple of days in the hospital had been unbearable, he had felt so helpless. And then his heart had been ripped from his chest, and everything he had ever loved, everything he had ever held dear was gone in an instant. But this woman - this angel - had helped him when he needed it most. He wishes she could stay forever, he feels so at peace with her near. He knows it’s too much to ask, but he hopes she’ll stay a little bit longer.

In the few hours you’ve spent with Elvis this morning you’ve come to realize that he isn’t so different from the one you love. His spirit is the same, his humor and wit, his love of life and all that it offers. He’s the same man, and you find yourself wanting to inch closer to him, to close the distance between you on the car seat. It hits you like a lightening bolt - you…god help you but…you love him too. Of course you do. Is this why you have an almost unnatural possessiveness over him? When it seems like you shouldn’t, like you haven’t any claim to him. But…he hasn’t met his future wife, not yet. It’s you. Here and now. He’s meeting you for the very first time. Before he even lays eyes on her. Somewhere in the ether you must have known it, in your bones, deep down. He was yours first. You loved him first.

A fire blazes through you at this revelation, taking your breath with it. It’s all starting to makes sense and it frightens you to your core. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You’re not supposed to love Elvis Presley, not like this. He isn’t supposed to know you and you’re not supposed to be here. It’s not in the history books, it’s not what happened. You have to leave. Now. You can’t stay any longer and risk messing things up - messing his life up. He’s too important to too many people, you included. He’s staring at you now like you're the only lifeline he has, like you’re the answer to every problem and every question he has. That heart that was being pieced back together earlier, your heart, now shatters apart. It breaks to think about leaving him like this, so entwined with his grief, so overcome with the hand life has dealt him - cruel and kind at the same time. Your tears pool and fall down your cheeks as you reach a hand out to him, needing to feel his touch again, maybe for the last time. He takes your hand, placing it on his cheek, his warm palm covering yours. He nuzzles it, the scratchy hair of his unshaven jaw tickling you lightly, before he gently places a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist, his tender lips branding you, claiming you. You didn’t think it would be this hard, leaving him. You didn’t think you’d be torn, that you’d actually give a thought to staying. Not when you had someone to get back to. And yet…

“Elvis…sweetheart…it’s time. I have to go now,” you say through your tears, surprised when you feel something hot and wet drip onto your hand still holding his cheek. He’s crying now too, as if he knows this moment holds more significance than he can fully grasp. He shakes his head, no, always stubborn, and pulls you to his chest, clutching you there tightly. Your arms encircle his waist as you hang on for dear life, the waves crashing over you both threatening to pull you under.

“No, no, no….please don’t leave me. Please don’t go,” he cries against your hair, your bodies wracked with sobs as you cling to one another, each mourning the loss for a different reason. You know you’ll never be the same after this. You can never again be who you were before you held a broken Elvis Presley in your arms on the day his mother died. Before you realized that you'd gone and truly fucked up the one life you have. Because now you know. Know that you can’t have a life that Elvis isn’t a part of. You’re breaking in two and he is holding you. And everything is exactly as it should be. And everything is all wrong.

Tags (please let me know if you want to be removed): @meladollsims @godlypresley @jelliedonut @butlersxbirdy @precious-little-scoundrel @eliseinmemphis @powerofelvis @elvisabutler @ccab @richardslady121 @isthlsfate @rjmartin11 @thatbanditqueen @prompted-wordsmith @airyx0x0 @baddieandblue

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astridthevalkyrie · 11 months

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chand ko chakor dekhe, tujkho naseebo wala (the bird looks at the moon, a lucky one looks at you) | hawks x reader | chapter 3

“You’ve died twice? From clocks? “I know you’re not blind to the rocks and debris flying literally everywhere! The world would be better off without you in it!” you scream at the villain. The machine is even louder as it breaks and jams into the ground. “Flying building pieces or something, I don’t know—one hit me yesterday. The first day I got knocked into a wall, and then I woke up hugging my body pillow. Same thing the next day. And the next, and the next. Did my number three pro hero partner save me? No, he let me get stuck in a fucking time loop!” Or, you’ll do a lot of things with infinite time on your hands, but falling in love with Keigo Takami isn’t one of them.

a/n: yello

warnings: afab reader with she/her pronouns, contemplations of suicide (with the understanding that she will reset), nudity, more death and more rudeness lol

1 | 2

The fight is never long anymore. You use nearfar! airforce! (who the actual shit let you make these names as a teenager) and bring Mr. Clock to his knees while Hawks jams the machine, feather in one hand and strawberry beverage in the other. He ends it so quickly that his red demon children have time to scoop you up, dumping you straight into his arms.

Bridal. Style.

Oh, he’s full of shit.

You hate to admit it. Hate hate hate hate hate to admit it. But maybe Hawks’ idea of a meal isn’t the worst thing in the world. His sugary, pink, fruity-just-like-him-haha drink is somewhat rejuvenating, particularly for a woman who dies everyday (y’know, a real woman, not any of those fake fucks who just go around living all the time).

And the drink mixed with the best fried chicken ever you have to try them nightingale you have to they’re so good is actually one of the best combinations you’ve had in a long time, plus you have all the days ahead of you to completely indulge until you get sick of the taste and jump off a cliff at just the thought.

For someone who’s adjusted to the idea that this little sitch may last forever, you’re handling it well. Eating fried chicken and sipping pinkity drinkities. Today you’d decided to inform Hawks about the lil time loop situation much earlier, pre Clock Moron. He’d brought you to his favorite fried chicken joint immediately, something he’d never done before—you assume it has to do with the early morning.

“He’s tied up and ready to go, fellas!” With a thumbs up in the cops’ direction (accompanied by your middle finger(s), you didn’t forget the time that moron shot you), Hawks speeds off andhe’sthefastestmaninJapanforareasonholyshit. If you hadn’t been in the air since you were a wee cutesy little gremlin, you’d be scared.

Now does this beg the question of why the number three hero is giving you a romantic flight? Yes, maamsirlord, it certainly does.

“Are we going somewhere in particular?” From this angle, his ratty hair looks a little too gorgeous breezing in the wind. “Or are you planning to take me up into the sun and kill me, Icarus?”

“It’d take at least two hundred days to fly into the sun. Do you wanna be in my arms that long, songbird? I’d do it if you weren’t resetting.” Hawks smirks down at you and your stomach does this disgusting fucking flip that it has no business doing.

When he seats you, you relax at the feel of metal, leaning back against the familiar feeling of your favorite bridge. Hawks perches above you, and you both stare out into the bustling city. Pretty sight, for now. Eventually you’ll get sick of it just like you’ll get sick of everything else except maybe possibly potentially your partner (because he’s a person and people don’t remain static even when they’re repeating, right? right?) so you enjoy it while you can.

“I could just…” You look down, sighing. “Turn off aerial and fall. I’ll wake up again tomorrow hugging my body pillow anyways.”

He doesn’t say anything, but in a flash you feel a hand grab your shoulder, pulling you back. You look up, alarmed, as he stares back at you with almost the exact same expression.

“Don’t—”

“I’m not committing, I’m just, thinking about it, I guess.”

“Don’t think about it.” There’s a strange expression on his face, and you come to terms that no matter the day, you never actually see Hawks’ reaction to your corpse since the deaths are almost always immediate. “Just…float up here, yeah?”

You cock your head, but do as he says. “Jeez, birdie, who d’you think you’re talkin’ to? You don’t need to talk me down. I’m just saying maybe it’s better than waiting for it to happen.”

“Sounds pretty suicidal to me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No.” Once you’re seated on his lap and facing him (shut the fuck up, it’s not the first time it’s happened, colleagues can do this shit with each other ohsorrydidanyonethinkyouwouldFRIENDzonehim? nocolleaguezoningisFARworse) (okay sorry it’s only the second time it’s ever happened and both of you were drunk the first time), the hero pushes your hair away from your face, resting his hand on your forehead. “Just, trust me. I don’t think you should descend into madness yet. What have you tried so far?”

With a sigh, you recount. “Movie, orgasm, charity, prayer, screaming, and a bunch of variations of those.”

“Maybe you need a hobby. Or a goal.” His hand doesn’t move. “Is there anything you really want to do?”

For a second, you think, then your eyes light up. “I could murder all the top pro heroes.”

He snorts. “Jumped to murder a little quick there. And why not murder villains first?”

“I thought about that. But I don’t really know where any of the villains are. Oh, I guess I can murder the clock guy first.”

“Or, you could have fun with this first. Experiment a little.”

“And how do you suggest I do that?”

A pause, then Hawks gives you a boyish grin.

“Wanna make tomorrow me’s life the best one yet?”

—————————————————

When the beat drops and Hawks flies into the air, you do too, but instead of going right while he goes left, you fly to the top of the store and scream.

At the top of your lungs.

Everyone looks, but no one actually glances for more than a second except Hawks, who is looking at you in bewilderment (you didn’t tell him today, for the hell of it, and also because yesterday-Hawks-you-kinda-miss-him told you it would be way funnier this way).

So to make these bitchass people pay attention to you, you unleash your ultimate move.

Hurricane. Kickass, yeah?

In a second, everyone in the immediate area is flying. In your air. Your wind.

(Apparently there’s some wannabe loser at Shiketsu High who can also do this but you’d like to see if he could. Uh. Die. And stop being a copycat.)

You toss all the kids in the area to the sides THEY’RE FINE RELAX except maybe THAT SEXIST KID who you dropped slightly harder. Once, they’re all out of the view, and the machine is broken, and everyone is actually looking at you in awe—

You take a hold of the dress you’re wearing instead of your uniform, and with a hard tug and full knowledge that you have nothing under it, rip it right off yourself.

Someone screams. That’s dramatic.

Hawks’ feathers all look sharper than normal, and his face is an adorable shade of crimson. “Ah, Nightingale, you…uh…”

Now, you do love to leave him speechless. There’s this tiny little fluttering in your (bare) chest as he stares, mouth opening and closing.

But you don’t feel the same about the cops who arrest you three minutes after that.

Welp.

Murder it is.

—————————————————

“Hello, Gang Orca.” Flashing a wicked smile just like all your least favorite criminals do, you ascend in front of him, holding out your hands in a grand display of villainy. “I’m here to—”

Before you can even finish the sentence, he’s on top of you, jumping much higher than you anticipated, grabbing your head, and smashing your head into the hard cement.

—————————————————

“STUPID FUCKING SHARK!” you scream into your pillow, kicking. “DIDN'T EVEN SAY I WAS THERE TO KILL HIM, DOES HE JUST DO THAT TO ANYONE WHO LOOKS AT HIM THE WRONG WAY? THAT HURT, GODDAMMIT, FUCK SHARKS, WE’RE GONNA NEED A BIGGER BOAT, I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM—”

A quick search online shows you that orcas are actually whales.

Whatever. You’ll kill him either way. This time for sure.

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x you #takami keigo x you #my hero academia x reader #keigo x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x you #boku no hero academia x you #ckc fic #valkyrie stories

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autumnbell32 · 3 months

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1/15/24 at 1225: I'm Scared, and I Want to Remember This Feeling

There are ugly sides to this chronic, severe mental illness- things that happen in dark, isolated rooms amongst body odor and empty food cartons- that I'm not going to avoid sharing because that doesn't help anyone. This disease puts its sufferers in a damp, lonely, sticky place. Friends, this is the most unhealthy I have ever been, regardless of the fact that my therapist says I'm still making progress. I'm on three medications- one an antipsychotic (never wanted to deal with the neurological and metabolic side effects of those again) and I'm still about 60 pounds heavier than my normal weight. I binge to numb the emotional pain and feelings of loss (I've only had rare instances of depression actually decreasing my appetite and causing weight loss). I'm 38, diabetes, high blood pressure and heart disease run in my family, and my health just isn't going to hold up against this illness anymore (I'm really worried the damage is already done). I have a past history of being somewhat fit and active, but now I feel as if I have betrayed my body more than it is willing to accept. I'm scared and I want to remember this feeling.

I see a gynecologist who treats PMDD tomorrow morning and am begging the universe for some relief because I really can't keep weathering these cycles on my own anymore- my sails are full of holes. Remove one stone, protect my health for a little longer, so that I can continue to be strong enough to come out the other side of this. I am determined that my life will be better by the fall. I've already put some plans in place and am just hoping that it isn't too late for me.

Yesterday I left my apartment for a while. I needed cat food and litter, and was starting to feel stir crazy behind these walls (the drywall type and the type that depression builds). It took a bit of time to get the snow and ice off of my car- the temperature was about -20 F with windchill, so I was worried about frostbite since my circulation sucks. It sucks even more after all of the weight gain. I finished my errands but got stuck in the snow at an intersection, though two gentlemen were kind enough to push my car out. Then, when I arrived back home, the smartlock on my apartment door had jammed from the cold. I was locked out of my apartment, cat food and litter and coffee and charger cord in my arms, and had to call maintenance. The poor guy said these type of locks only belong in warmer environments and he had been up since the predawn hours fixing jammed smartlocks in the bitter cold. Even though I waited in my running car, legs hanging down and resting on heels, my feet went numb- specifically the heels. I didn't regain feeling in them for over 30 minutes. In a dumb panic, I kept rubbing them, pressing them into the floor, and rested them on a heating pad. Today they are sore, probably from me constantly pushing on them, but that scares me. The skin looks fine, feeling has completely returned, and I can discern light touch. I hear my body's messages, telling me that my health is fading behind this illness.

#tw ED talk #tw weight talk #tw depression #bipolar type ii #PMDD #I'm not giving up #writer #writing #writeblr #journal entry #I feel lucky that my job provides good insurance

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goatcheeeez · 1 year

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Green NBA Star (Midori Takamine Side Story)

Season: Spring

Location: Takamine Greengrocer

Midori: Another day, another slay.

Morisawa-senpai said he wanted to see me after school and it sounded like an emergency. Is it because I skipped practice yesterday?

I hope he doesn't make me watch another season of None Piece while rambling about Boro for hours again... Just thinking about it makes me want to vanish into nothing...

Location: Schoolyard

Midori: So, uh, how did you find out?

Chiaki: Find out about what?

Midori: ...

Chiaki: ...

Midori: Uhh... April fools...?

Chiaki: HAHAHA! You're always so funny, Takamine! You should be a comedian as a side gig one day!

Midori: I think I'd rather be water boarded.

Chiaki: Anyways, I bear exciting news!

I have drafted you into the NBA!!

Midori: ...

Are you fucking with me again?

Chiaki: Nope! You're gonna be as big as JeLon Brames from Saint Peanutsburg himself, I just know it!

Midori: Who??

Chiaki: JeLon Brames! The basketball player famous for being in the film "Cosmic Jam"!

Midori: Somehow I don't think that's what he's famous for...

Chiaki: It'll be a blast, Takamine! Just have fun! Come on and slam! And welcome to the jam!

Midori: Is drafting me into the NBA without my permission even legal?

Chiaki: Nope! But what are you gonna do, undraft yourself? HAHAHA!

Midori: Cowabummer...

Chiaki: Come on, Takamine, trust me even if it's only a little bit! This will be good experience for you!

Midori: I guess...

Chiaki: I'll get you that Tiger-Bear plush you've been oogling at each time I walk you back home if you go.

Midori: Sign me the fuck up. I'm ready to head in.

Chiaki: That's the spirit!!

Location: New York

After the NBA Game

Midori: That was exhausting as hell...

It never really crossed my mind until I was on the flight to here, but when Morisawa-senpai told me he drafted me to play in the NBA, I didn't think about the fact that people play in teams.

Why was I sent on my own and not with the whole basketball club? I'm not even the captain of the basketball club? Why me? Then again, this could be a comeback for giving him a whole box of eggplants for Christmas.

Yeah, I kinda deserved it then. Can't say it wasn't funny though, shit was funny as fuck. "AHH TAKAMINE MASTER ZANDRED IS HERE FOR MEE!!!" lmao

I got off topic. Anyways, it all made sense when I arrived.

JeLon Brames is, apparently, a big fan of me and wanted to do a meet and greet but was too busy with this NBA stuff to come to Japan and see me there.

Why didn't Morisawa-senpai just say that? Why'd he have to hype it up like that?

Then again, he technically wasn't wrong in the end... After I mentioned I'm in the basketball club I was asked if I could play with his team for a mock-up game tomorrow. He was chill though and I brought my ass all the way here already so I said sure why not.

Ugh, this is kinda annoying... But, I can't say I'm not excited. You know what? I think I can have a bit of fun here. Yeah...

Next Day, After Mock-Up Game

Midori: Phew, that wasn't so bad actually. Playing with the big league basketball players was pretty fun now that I actually went for it. Everyone said I would be a perfect basketball player. I was flattered and all, but I'd rather be with RYUSEITAI if I have to be honest.

Maybe Morisawa-senpai was in the right having me at a chokehold to join his basketball club and RYUSEITAI. I should be more grateful for all of RYUSEITAI... Just thinking about them makes me miss them more than ever...

Location: Takamine Greengrocer

Midori: (groan) Wh– huh??

Oh, it was all a dream...

Well, wonder what Morisawa-senpai is gonna hit me up with after class today. Would be cool if it was something like the dream I had...

Location: Schoolyard

Midori: So, uh, what's up?

Chiaki: We're watching another season of None Piece. You know exactly what you did.

Midori: Mother fu–

#ensemble stars #enstars #midori takamine #THIS IS AN APRIL FOOLS JOKE PLEASE DON'T FALL FOR THIS #THIS IS SO DUMB BUT I NEEDED TO DO SOMETHING LMAO #hope you enjoy #or don't it's your choice #I yoloed all of this #fuck it we ball

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env0writes · 1 year

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May Be Well, 5.5.23 “Never Today"

Tomorrow is coming Whether I wake to find it Calling at the door, bells ringing And with it comes the day To besiege and beseech me Beach me and leech me Anonymously call to reach me Whether I do not look for it Tomorrow will be there Jam packed with parental promises Kept soapmouthed shut, secret Was this ever asked for? Tomorrow? Yet, onward it marches like sorrow’s soldiers In lockstep line to fire into the sunrise Nero would war against the sea So too tomorrow against today In slews of consistency Never yet to be touched How many nights do I sleep in anticipation? For tomorrow to come The scent of yesterday’s deodorant Reminding me there was a before that came Passing with the wind through chimes Chimes I never placed, but always hear I reach towards tomorrow to touch them Silence their waking rattle I only grasp today The chimes do not ring or grasp to silence on this day No deodorant to smell Just tomorrow’s ceaseless trudge

@env0writesC.Buck Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist! Photo by @mynamemeanscloud

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wholegrainbitch · 7 months

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bought myself a jar opener from ikea at the weekend while so unwell i could barely walk, reluctantly using crutches and still barely standing, and it's prompted a new wave in me of

you don't need to wait till it's Bad Enough. you don't need to wait until you're sick enough. no, it doesn't matter that you felt better yesterday, or that you might be more upright tomorrow. if you are bad TODAY, if you are struggling TODAY, or if Doing The Thing Unaided today will mean being worse tomorrow? USE THE MOBILITY AID! BUY THE MOBILITY AID! DO YOURSELF A FUCKING FAVOUR!!!

chances are, if you're living with a chronic illness, your standard for a "fine" or "good" day is most people's definition of just about struggling through a bad day. i recently heard someone compare living with my "good day" symptoms as being on the last day of the flu and deciding whether or not to struggle through the work day or stay home. my day-to-day average symptoms as having the flu. and yet every day i go to work feeling this way and never call in sick, because im used to functioning like this - AND THAT'S NOT HEALTHY! I finally saw a rheumatologist and her foremost prescription was to quit my job. in the absence of that possibility, using mobility aids on my days off will help me immensely.

the romanticisation of suffering that comes with having a disability is so fucking cruel. society has completely brainwashed so many of us into trying to live up to an able-bodied standard that will absolutely kill us in the long run. when i stand up for long periods of time, i am dizzy and unstable, my heart rate spikes, my chest hurts, my legs hurt, and i am overwhelmingly nauseous. and i live through that for ten hours a day anyway, just to keep up with my colleagues.

im saving up for a wheelchair. im doing things the "easy way". and i will quit my job whenever it's at all possible for me to do so and use that wheelchair whenever i fucking can and i will use a jar opening aid that i got from fucking ikea so i don't spend the next six hours in pain from opening a jam jar. and fuck everyone who has ever asked me if i REALLY need that brace or if i REALLY need the crutches today. fuck you and your fucking high horse. fuck capitalism and every fucking boss who has ever expected employees to slave away for barely enough to eat. fuck inspiration porn. fuck suffering for a wage, fuck dying to live, fuck 35-40 hour work weeks with unpaid breaks and fuck going home after shifts and crashing and not moving until the next one. we deserve better. use the fucking mobility aid and rest your bones, dear travellers, because i certainly fucking will be.

#venting #disability #ehlers danlos syndrome #pots #functional neurological disorder #i am so sick and so tired and i need a lie down all the time

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gracefulsunflower · 2 years

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CONTRARY - FINN SHELBY X READER; PART 10

PUBLISHED: 22/05/2022

!!FIRST PART HERE!!

Part 1

MASTERLIST

FINN'S POV

It had been a week since you and I had tied the knot, and you adopted Finn Junior. In that week, you had pulled me closer and pushed me away as you pleased. I was sick of it, and glad that I was going back to work today so I could get away from it. Tommy had called me this morning to tell me to be at Charlie's Yard in an hour.

Tommy had wanted you to come along as well, but I told him that you weren't well enough. Aberama had waxed poetic about your skills with guns, knives and even bow and arrows, and Tommy believed every word. I did too. This morning I had witnessed you stick a fly darting around to the kitchen ceiling with a knife because the buzzing annoyed you.

I didn't need you bothering me though, so you would be heading to Polly's after we went shopping. It was hard enough to try to get anyone older than me to take me seriously, but with you constantly belittling me it was an impossible task. I had no doubt that you would overshadow me too, and that was a big no-go.

I wrote the list out, and called out to you. You walked into the kitchen, Finn Junior hot on your heels, the bell on his little red collar tinkling. He had a little name tag, and our names on it in case he ever got lost, not that he ever would. He'd follow you everywhere, the Garrison, the betting den, Charlie's Yard, around the neighbourhood.

He'd never come near me voluntarily, though. He hates me, and I hate him. I nearly threw him out the window yesterday, because I turned my back on my cup of coffee for five seconds only to find him drinking it. You said that it was my fault for leaving the cup alone, but I'm positive that it's your fault for not training that fucking monster properly. He never ever tried that with your food either, it was always mine. I felt like you two had some sort of secret agreement to drive me mad.

"Let's go, you're reading the list." I instructed, throwing you the folded up piece of paper.

You blanched, but put it into your pocket. I rolled my eyes. I wouldn't have told you to do it if I didn't think you could. It was only four things, anyway. I put my cap on, and threw you your — our — brush, and you fixed your hair. It became our brush after you used mine to brush the knots out of Finn Jr's fur.

We started our walk down the street, to the market, you chewing your gum as usual. Once we entered, I grabbed a basket.

"What's the first thing on the list?" I asked, making you roll your eyes.

"You know damn well what's on the list, you wrote it!" You complained, but fished the list out of your pocket.

"Reading practice, won't hurt you." I replied as you came into step with me.

"I'm not sounding anything out," You warned, looking at the first word. "Erm, bread."

I nodded, and made a beeline for the bread aisle. I grabbed two loaves, knowing we were going to babysit Karl tomorrow and he was obsessed with jam sandwiches at the moment.

"Tea, coffee," You read out the next two items, and I put an arm around you and guided you to the aisle containing tea and coffee as you stared down at the page, trying to figure out the last word.

"What's the first sound you're sure of?" I questioned as I grabbed teabags and a jar of coffee.

"Bis," You answered as I grabbed your shoulder and started guiding you again.

"What do we eat a lot of, starting with 'bis', that we might need to top up on?" I prompted as we walked through the store.

"Oh, um, biscuits?" You replied unsurely, looking up at me, making me nod.

"Biscuits. Good girl," I praised as we reached the biscuits.

You blushed and looked away as I grabbed three packets. I lead us to the checkout and placed the items down. You made small talk with the cashier as she added up the cost of everything. I paid her, then we walked back to home. I could see Tommy, Arthur, and Isiah walking up the street. I looked down at my watch. Oh fuck, they left five minutes early.

"I've got to go with Tommy, I'll see you later, don't leave the Lane." I commanded, handing you the bag holding our groceries.

"Why?" You demanded, adjusting your grip on the brown paper bag.

"Family business," I brushed you off, adjusting my cap.

You stopped, and I turned to look at you.

"What?" I said impatiently.

"I'm part of the family now, so what business are you attending to?" You questioned, "Or are you not telling me because I'm a Gold?"

"It's complicated," I answered, not wanting to start up on the street.

"Fuck you, Shelby." You spat, walking past me and into our house, slamming the door behind you.

I ran to catch up to the other boys, patting Arthur on the back once I caught up.

READER'S POV

"Fuck Finn Shelby and the other Shelby's, and fuck the Peaky Blinders!" I swore as I walked to the kitchen.

"Is that any way to speak about your husband?" I heard a familiar voice speak.

I looked up, and Mum was sat at the kitchen table, stroking Finn Junior.

"If you try anything, I'll kill your cat," She said coolly.

I had no doubt that she would, so I sat across the table from her, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"What are you doing here?" I asked carefully, watching her as she scratched him behind the ears and made him purr.

Little grey traitor. I should've let Finn leave you at the yard.

"I'm doing a favour for some people." She replied, and I heard a car pull up outside, making my blood run cold in my veins.

"Leonardo, now!" Mum commanded, and I heard the floorboards creak behind me.

I quickly got up, and swung the chair that I was sitting on around, hearing it crack and break as it made contact with a man. I felt long nails scratch my scalp as Mum grabbed my hair from behind, yanking me back and making my back hit the table. She kept her hold on me, and no amount of thrashing could free me from her hold.

The man, Leonardo, stood back up and grabbed a wooden pole from the back of the chair. The last thing I felt before I fell unconscious was the pole cracking across my face and Mum letting me go, making my head connect with the kitchen bench, then everything went dark.

•••

FINN'S POV

I aimed at the group of men on the bridge, finger on the trigger, willing myself to pull it. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. If you were here, you'd probably be telling me to grow a pair and pull the trigger before you did it yourself. Then, you'd probably grab the gun off of me and proceed to do it yourself.

"Too late to back out now, mate." One of the men said, making me breathe a sigh of relief as I lowered the rifle.

"It's a fucking decoy!" I heard Tommy yell out, making my eyes widen, "Bring the car around!"

I started running to the apartment that Arthur was in, unloading my rifle and pocketing the bullets.

"Arthur!" I called out as I ran along the pathway in front of the apartments, and opened the door to the apartment that held my eldest brother.

"Arthur, they're not here for you. It must be Michael." I said, panting, eyes flickering from him to the woman.

He took a breath in, then grabbed the tablecloth, shoving it off of the table.

"You fucking bitch!" He roared as everything clattered on the floor.

"You set me up, eh?" He said, pulling out his gun, "you set me up!"

He flipped the table, then stepped closer and grabbed the woman by the shoulders, "I know!"

"Arthur, you need to get to the hospital now." I stated, walking over and grabbing his shoulder.

"Fuck off!" He grunted, tearing himself from my grip, making me stumble.

I walked back over to the door. He looked back at the woman and growled. She was damn near crying.

"If your faith is real," She began shakily, "I've got all the kids!"

Arthur put a hand on her face and pushed her away, heading to the door, but not before kicking a teapot and shattering it, making her gasp.

"If you're here in one hour, I swear to God — I will cover you in tar and fucking feathers." Arthur threatened, pointing at her, then spinning around and pushing past me.

"Come on, Finn, let's go," He commanded, and as we walked away I could hear the woman start to sob.

We piled into Tommy's car, and Tommy began speeding through the streets. The car was silent, the air heavy. When we arrived I nearly tripped as I rushed out of the car, Arthur helping me to find my feet.

Tommy lead us to Michael's room, my heart pounding so hard that I thought it was going to come right out of my chest. Tommy stopped in the corridor just outside of Michael's room, then burst in, followed by Arthur, then me, Isiah and Johnny waiting in the car.

Michael was sitting up peacefully reading the paper.

"What's wrong?" He asked, looking at us in confusion as he lowered the paper.

"The Italians — They had a decoy, they was meant to attack Arthur but they didn't," Tommy explained, making Michael's eyes widen.

I had a funny feeling in my stomach. I didn't like this. I spotted the cup of tea and biscuits next to Michael and my mouth went dry.

"Tommy," I began nervously, "What if they went to Watery Lane; after the girls?"

I watched as all the colour drained from Tommy's face, and he got up from the chair he was sitting on and told us to get our asses back into the car. I didn't waste any time running through the halls. Isiah and Johnny were leaning against the car sharing a smoke. Johnny quickly put it out when he saw us, and hopped into the back, followed by Isiah.

I clambered into the back after passing Isiah the shotgun, Arthur putting the seat up and hopping in, and Tommy getting into the drivers seat, starting the car and speeding to Watery Lane.

I found myself twisting my wedding band around my finger, a habit I picked up when I was nervous. Tommy came to a screeching stop in front of Polly's, and I couldn't get out of the car quick enough, running down the street to our house, and opening the door.

"(Y/N)!" I called out, scanning the room.

Finn Junior was laid on the coffee table, and he got up and strolled over to me, rubbing against my legs, making my stomach drop. Something was definitely wrong.

I ran upstairs, and you weren't there. I stumbled back down the stairs, and into the kitchen. A chair had been broken, and there was blood on the edge of the kitchen bench.

"Fuck!" I hissed, looking around the room. I spotted an envelope on the kitchen table.

I snatched it up, and ran back out to the street.

"Where's your wife?" Tommy asked, looking me up and down.

"She's gone," I snapped, handing him the envelope I found.

He tore it open.

"What does it say?" Polly asked, coming to stand with us.

"That Luca Changretta is keeping her until he kills one of us, and if he can't kill one of us, he'll kill her." Tommy said, his face unreadable.

I suddenly felt nauseous, and doubled over, my breakfast making a reappearance on the cobbled street. Arthur started rubbing my back. This was unfair, you were innocent. You didn't have anything to do with this.

As I heaved for air, I came up with one thought; if I had taken you with me this morning, you would be fine. This was all my fault.

§§§

OOOOH IT FINALLY HAPPENEDDDD

I've been waiting to write the kidnapping for agesss

Love y'all ❤️

- Sunflower x

NEXT PART

Part 11

#finn shelby #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby x y/n #finn shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #x reader #arthur shelby #finn shelby fanfic #tommy shelby

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dirtbag-linecook-kyloren · 1 year

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one more scene and then I can compile act one for my first round edits

I really think I’m gonna finish it tonight but I don’t think it’ll be 10k which will speed up edits thankfully

I haven’t posted a tidbit in a minute so here’s something I wrote today (or yesterday my work on act one has blended together)

The smoothest close of every month is on the last Sunday of the month. Every single person from the back of the house will be on shift, running the line or cleaning something, and the second the last table is cashed out, like maggots they descend upon the line to clean it. After, a few will stay behind, iPads in hand as they weigh every single piece of food in the restaurant. Rey will be up front with Poe, counting the liquor and taking note of how many cases of to-go containers and bar napkins they have. One poor server will be tasked with counting the tea bags and coffee grounds in the alley, but they person gets clocked in at kitchen wage for the hour they spend counting. As he normally does, Hux volunteers. All his classes are jammed into Tuesday and Thursday, so he’s free to stay late on Sunday, knowing that the earliest he’d have to wake up is 10 AM the next morning. This time, he’s lucky to work just dinner, tomorrow, and the luxury to sleep in still hasn’t quite sunk in, yet. He has an essay to finish by the end of the week, and he’s a few pages behind where he wants to be, so that’ll take up most of his morning. Halfway through counting the bags of Earl Grey, his totals written down on a slip of receipt paper, someone shouts from the back of the restaurant, and the back door slams. Hux knows what happened in the abstract, but as always, he’s curious what caused Solo to snap this time. He’s better than a common gossip, though, so he keeps going, finishes with the Earl Grey and moves on to the green tea. And then, when he looks up, Han Solo is standing there, turning the key in the soda machine and getting himself a Sprite, almost too casual. “Everything going all right back there?” he asks, going for rote information about the state of the count, and not any juicy details. Despite his curiosity, he cares little about personal issues in the back of house, so long as Phasma is fine. “I know you have more to count than tea bags.” “Ben’s just getting used to it, is all. He’s been in restaurants all his life, but he’s never had much responsibility at them. It’s a big change. He’ll calm down.” “Has your son ever been calm?” Hux asks, half his mind on the conversation and the other half on how many bags of peach green tea are shoved into a each caddy. It takes a second for his brain to catch up with what his mouth said, and when Hux has processed that he all but called the boss’s kid a prick, his head snaps up. “I just- I mean-“ He’s going to be fired, Hux is certain. Five years building a reputation here, regulars who come back just for him and friends who’ll cover his back on a rough shift, all out the window because he was a tired and a little too loose with his lips. Instead, Han laughs. Do bosses laugh, before they fire people? Hux has never been fired, so he wouldn’t know. “He did,” Han replies. “He was actually a real quiet kid, though I know it’s hard to imagine it, now. Shy, even. Believe it or not, I’m just glad he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s over corrected, sure, but give it a year, I think he’ll have leveled out.” How unfortunate, Hux thinks, that he will have graduated before Solo reaches his stride, as it were. As nice as his time at the Millennium Falcon has been, Hux is excited to leave waiting tables behind and put his degree to work. A few firms in the area have seemed interested in hiring him, after he has his diploma, and soon after he walks the stage, Hux will put in his two weeks, say goodbye to his coworkers, and make empty promises to see most of them. Mitaka and Phasma, he will no doubt see. Everyone else? Hux doubts he’ll notice their absence in his life, save Solo, who’s loss Hux will savor.

#hands off hands out #kylux au

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afr0-thunder · 4 months

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[Poor Chronicles Pt. 38]

Topics: Weed/Work (Hours)/Cellular Service/Photography/Work (Social)/HORNDAWG/Girls/Mail Services

*$200 of my money. I don’t know how much more of my money he can afford to miss out on. I think I’ll just limit the snacks and smoke more weed. I have an unpaid vacation from work.

I was cut today. Quite early. About an hour and a half. I was also given the day off tomorrow. This is ludicrous. That is $100 or so I could use to be high enough to maintain working at this job.

I have paid my next month’s phone bill already, so it’s not necessary (to work more hours). Unsure if the SIM card will be a recurring issue yet or not, but fuck it. I’m willing to take the chance. I will be halfway on monthly expenses through the 3rd month upon my next pay, regardless. These next few weeks should be interesting.

I hadn’t taken the chance to select my outfit for my next photo shoot, so not being able to have my photo shoot exactly one month from my last was successful. Cheers. I was unfortunately asked to work that day. I have gotten around to it. During one of my showers.

We had two days worth of 30 minute breakfasts for our team meeting. Yesterday was various bagels, McDonald’s sausage biscuits with strawberry, no jelly jam packets (against my diet practices now realizing), cereal, cookie cake, juice and milk. Today was some sort of cinnamon cake. My head coach prepared. During our second meeting, I was asking everybody about the holidays (vacations specifically), making jokes, asking people about their secret Santa gifts, etc… and when my head coach asks everyone what we’re doing for the holiday(s), Horndawg says “Maybe applying for colleges…I was thinking maybe UIUC…in Urbana” and a car accident went off in my head. I thought to myself, “There is no way this bitch is in high school. Bitch could be 17. 16 NIGGA!? I’ve been saying this bitch’s ass is so fat for like 40 weeks. Nigga what the fuck!” (No question mark needed (!?) that fuck was loud). You should’ve saw my face. Also, first of all, no she is not going to college out of town, and if I let her, she’s coming back a lot so we can FUCK. The other bitches don’t listen, so we’ll see about this one. I was wondering what side of the city she may be from, but shit clearly the side where they commit felonies. There was no way I just said this is the bitch I imagined in 2016. Her walk is so cute by the way for a 5’9 girl. It’s almost like she doesn’t know her ass is that fat. A new coworker and I left the meeting early. Our managers lied on the bench. One of them’s ass was so fat laying on her stomach. The new coworker asked Horndawg about her college situation and she was like “Oh, I’m 18!” and I came back to life. I figure she took a gap year or some shit. I also realized she works before 3pm, so there’s no way she could be anyway. I was about to say, what kind of bitch has a fat ass, big titties and looks like this in HIGH SCHOOL. I guessed 18-22. I don’t prefer, but yesterday I was just thinking “Damn, maybe I need me a younger bitch”. She also dyed her hair red like Christmas. Never asked her why. I thought I was seeing things through her hairnet. Maybe she was horny. It seems like all the bitches my age are scared, in a relationship or have been emotionally abused enough to not seek a relationship with anyone who actually likes them. I’m not fixing that shit. I’m not a mechanic bitch. Then I started to believe that sounded crazy as fuck and I might be capping. Well here we are. In conclusion, my manager is out to get me.

A sex worker messaged me, then eventually ended up telling me she sells content. I told her I don’t do that, but if she ever wanted to make some with someone. She knows where to find me (we exchanged locations). She didn’t respond. She doesn’t have a very fat ass, but I noticed in one of her posts she had a very fat pussy and that makes up for it, honestly. She has SUPER big titties, but that is insane.

The MILFs (or cougars, but I prefer MILFs, even if they aren’t) are beginning to be seen as regulars again. I forget that some of these women are only, but human and get just as horny and excited as these other girls and sometimes can’t contain themselves either. I never really considered this more than one of those fun escapades because situationally it’s not very realistic (at least in my situation), but now I see having multiple baby mommas quite older than me rather than just around my age as something I can’t just rule out, altogether. Nothing against it, but having a bad bitches quarter finals is insane, so you can see why considering would be outrageous, but one of these thick grandmas got one more time to come in here looking thick and beautiful and I’m going to strike her with this dick. Shit is so crazy.

Overall, this has been an interesting poor week. I was considering getting a PO Box (as I have been for a while, but see no real purpose, and ordering a new jacket, sweater or gaming system). I think I have tortured my thieving neighbors enough with halting all orders after they went through my package once and stole another entirely… but potentially not, as well. I’m content with this lifestyle.

- MH (2023)

[12/21/2023 - 4:44PM]

#personal #poor chronicles #poor #poverty #life #lesson #life lesson #life lessons #guidance #struggle #chicago #2023 #LilMark #PUNKAssMark #afr0-thunder

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the-firebird69 · 1 year

Text

We like all the stuff you say about her son and idiotic expressions and dumb faces ridiculous timing so he started hitting you and taking you in and they're way too many cars out that early you never up that early and we decided something he's been telling the truth and we were listening but you're horrendous but now we know you have to go that's ridiculous You're such stupid f****** I can't believe how dumb you are that was a ridiculous show no wonder Max pissed off you really need to be stopped and it got out of hand. We're coming in there and we're going to take care of business

-we have 200,000 projects you have the final notice to proceed signed yesterday and we're starting them today we're completing 60,000 apartments 35,000 have the co. Anticipate 15,000 more will have the co today and the remaining 10,000 tomorrow. But they said was that's exemplary speed and it's actually faster than we've ever seen it and after a lul it's pretty good.

-there were 1,500 morlock sheriff now there are 500 today starting the day out they intend to fire 250 today and that is going to happen and it needs to happen and you need to stop harassing our son and other people who are worth stuff and that's why they're getting rid of you

-and there were 40 more luck punta Gorda police and they have been firing them steadily and now there are 10 more luck punta Gorda PD employees they plan on firing five today

-there's a giant line of cars trying to get into punta Gorda and Port Charlotte county and is being held even at the 41 and there's a space between Englewood and North Port and it's a small space between Northport and Port Charlotte and there's a space between Venice and Sarasota all those spaces being used to haul people out and to stop traffic and the rest of it is the traffic jam and they have roadways off to the side now and they blocked them with big barriers and then they open them up when they're doing this and they're doing it now intermittently all day long they're going to be doing it.

-huge traffic jam on the highway they are stopping everyone and interviewing them and they are pulling all the vehicles off the road and if it's new and it's working order they have it wait until it impound and you're told not to drive on the road at that time and they do fine people but the others they take their cars and they truck them to the incinerator

-about 10 of you start bad-mouthing your son when he's telling you that's what to do clean the idiot whose trucks are coming for and he's very surprised that we're mentioning it but they will try until they get that thing and he's saying this I'm not afraid of them and things like that so they are getting a big Force together right now they're slaughtering his people and it is Jason

huge numbers of people saw Jason harassing our son yesterday and today and they are going after him he got him some help and some work and then he's an a****** so you can't do it anymore and he doesn't want to it's not worth even looking at the guy and we're putting that forwards too he needs help stopping the idiot

-there was a huge celestial event this morning it was visible from here and he did see it and thought he was losing it or seeing a double image which sometimes reflects in the clouds and it was not and it looked translucent spooky and very odd and scary and a lot of people said it too that's like the weirdest thing I've ever seen and they went home some cried a little and some said thank God it's almost over one way or the other and we don't like you people we despise you for it but it was a wonderful event and we had a great time it's beautiful I've never seen anything like that it looked very weird like a shiny so much onyx and it was shiny and reflecting he looked and said no way LOL and it was beautiful to him and her too he talked to her after he said were you there and she said yes it's just beautiful and she said I know you're watching and I was it's time you contact me you fool okay and he was trying to take pictures of it around the clouds the trunks it was chaotic and people are buzzing him the truck or places emptying I mean you people are couldn't be more clueless if someone paid you it's a huge event to him it's his namesake some of you going by screaming his name in your vehicle and you can't hear it cuz you're stupid but people are saying you're done and it's just Insanity you're all sick so we have to pull people in

-we have about 50% of our job done now overall it's not close to that yet but we are making progress like we never have before and we did delineate that and then we showed way of delinquencies and we're filling in those holes one of the ways to do work and to get them jobs and to have things roll and we are doing it with construction and motorcycles and sales groceries water safety and military and more just tons of tons and tons of stuff we have huge numbers of jobs that are ancillary and we need to get on it now we need personal and we need hours to sign on

-besides the police and the sheriff, there are several other things that are being affected today but the next program and that would be government workers we listed a huge number of them were fired from agencies that are duplicates unnecessary and even illegal and those numbers were inaccurate the max took a lot of flack and they said the responses are varied for a group but not much and said they have a united front so they have to approach it carefully and try and make it not United so it started on different groups and they said it's impossible they're all kind of doing the same thing and find out why nobody's going to their hospitals or the parks and they're wandering around trying to rest people for dumb s*** and they've been doing it for years to our friend here they say years over this impossible talk. So they're going after him and they're sending in troops and they're pulling them out of areas and specifically them today and they're going after devices at the same time and there's huge units going in actual military because it needs it and there's huge piece of equipment going around and they're pulling out devices today here in Southwest Florida and Florida and I'll spread to other parts shortly

-you found all sorts of stuff my messages you're sending us most of which we ignored and lots of it we react to and all of it we act on. We're coming after you here to teach you manners and respect shortly and we know you need it

-the area is building up those five points for your invasion again and today it's appears to be mild but it's not there's preliminary groups that usually don't get sent and they're investigating and testing sensing and sending information back things going on for 2 hours approach. These fleet is being assembled and it is a morlock fleet overseas and from the south and it is gigantic they start making wooden chips and they're making steel chips and they suck in their garbage but they hold missiles and ordinance and the numbers of those it's very high and they've been holding on to it in order to use it all at once and it seems like this round to me they may be sending it they don't have very much left and they're going to make mostly wooden ships right now they have like 300 million one mile ships are around that size your gigantic it is huge. Have to distract all those ships the whole time just won't happen

-there's a lot of people here who think that they're distracting our son and they are always very mad I'm working on a lot of projects because of him and we're doing a lot of military things because of him and that's the way it is

-we're in receipt of the first shipment of Chinese motorcycles and other that are similar and we have about 700 trillion each area already retrofitted and we're getting orders

-We're going to take over Bayliner and he had an idea to have the Chinese make the whole and it's not a bad idea and they can make the whole really cheap and the top side is kind of important area you want to look nice and we can do it with other boats anyway thinking about it and they want to do it. So they have a meeting about that.

is a few more things to list but we're going to come back to it shortly

Thor Freya

It says it's a good day so far you had a good time seeing it and he has to get rest and we agree and it will be back shortly with an update

Hera

The man is going to prison and I'm going to make sure it happens and requested demanded put him through the mail everywhere. He is the biggest a****** you've ever met. And I see if I was in the same I can't stand him hit him and we're going to once everybody who's had a hard time with him and it was assigned to him to come out of the woodwork and help me burn this piece of crap and we mean Trump of course in those like him. So I'm getting some help and more movies coming short shortly. So we're going to court today and Trump has a 11:00 or so 12:00 or something Cherry cheeseman is the one dinner at 3:00 and it's the whole bunch it's going to be over soon they're going to be done

Bitol and goddess wife

Olympus

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autumn2may · 2 years

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fruit-in-jars 101 by stacynguyen

"What is jam? What makes something authentically jam? Can bacon really be made into jam?

It was all very Existentialist.

The answer to those questions is a bit complicated and non-definitive. The U.S. FDA has defined jam and jelly in very specific and mathematical terms (such-and-such percentage of juice to fruit to water to sugar = jam/jelly); it also uses jam and preserve interchangeably, for the most part. While interesting, the FDA’s definitions did not matter much to me because the FDA wasn’t really using the terms in the way that we usually use the terms. Also, the FDA wasn’t comprehensive in its definitions. It didn’t tackle other fruit spreads like marmalades or curds, for instance.

The more I looked into, the more I thought, dude, this information would make a good infographic."

#jam #jelly #infographic #foodie #foodlr #cooking tips #food info #jam tomorrow jam yesterday but never ever jam today #cottagecore #farmpunk #food #canning #preserving

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person.

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve.

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun.

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings.

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll.

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections.

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to.

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail.

but you weren’t as lucky today.

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin.

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you.

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing.

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too.

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale.

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you.

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn.

she reminds you of yourself.

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck.

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job.

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again.

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you.

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine.

you look over your shoulder.

no one’s there.

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way.

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding.

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night.

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea.

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government.

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted.

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes.

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin.

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight.

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force.

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud.

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green.

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak.

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer.

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them.

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?”

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape.

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent.

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries?

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life.

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake.

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls.

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault.

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house.

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day.

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless.

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate.

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can.

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside.

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again.

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice.

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there.

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with.

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan.

you almost collapse against the brick wall.

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose.

until you saw who it was.

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday.

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try.

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma.

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down.

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times.

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left.

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes.

three times you’ve cheated death.

but time is up and your luck has run out.

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch.

naeun is nowhere to be seen.

good.

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare.

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience.

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it.

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket.

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances.

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper.

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you.

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder.

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you.

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings.

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you.

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke.

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone.

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath.

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase.

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium).

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin.

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them.

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory.

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball.

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

taglist !!

@hoeartchoke @donghyukcore @stopknot @greenish-taro @zhongriot @lmaoskz @zephyr-abyss @anonymous-stuff @josuke8 @jaemotel @winwiniee @dundun-baby @nakamotocore @hcwurld @alaeddis @recs-for-later @jaehyunssslut

wanna be added to my taglist? click here!

‎

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #renhyuck scenarios #renhyuck imagines #haechan imagines #renjun imagines #yandere haechan #yandere renjun #purge au #purge au nct dream #tw bullying #tw violence #tw purge au

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strawberryerwin · 2 years

Photo

erwin smith x reader bakery/library au + non-canon, post-war - part 3

cw: slight angst bc nightmare, fluff other than that / afab!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

as you locked the door behind you, Erwin waited patiently at the sidewalk. as you walked side by side, you felt the need to eliminate the silence in the air.

"how long have you lived here?", you asked intently. you wanted to confirm what you already knew.

"since the war ended.", he stated. just like everyone else here, you thought. "i was a commander in the survey corps.", he went on.

this did not take you by surprise. the tall, blond man, though quiet in his interactions, looked as though he had the ability to command not only the attention of a room but an entire city if he pleased. "ah, i see. I'm sorry.", you spoke quietly. you weren't sure what to say.

"thanks."

"you probably got to see some beautiful land outside the walls before many other people did.", you replied, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "i couldn't believe all of the foliage around when i came here. i had never seen bright colors of flowers like here before, inside the walls."

"indeed, i did.", Erwin hummed. "i never gave it much thought until people started telling me things of similar sentiment. do you have a garden?"

"oh, no. i live in a loft above the newspaper printer's office.", you shrugged. "maybe one day. i'd like to supply some of my own produce for the bakery. i do have some heirloom tomatoes planted on my windowsill, though." you pointed up ahead. "there is my stop."

"i’m better with animals than plants.", he said. "i have a horse in the stables across town." he didn't want to leave you, but you had just met. it would be rude to invite myself in, he thought. how can i see her again, and soon? "do you have plans tomorrow? would you like to join me in a walk to the stables, then we could have lunch?" was that too much?

"oh, umm... sure! that works. just come up to my door, whenever you're ready." you brushed your hair behind your ears in a nervous attempt to keep your hands busy.

he smiled and nodded. "i'll see you tomorrow, Miss Y/N."

"be safe on your way, Erwin. see you tomorrow."

a knock on your door, just as you spread jam onto your bagel. you didn't think he would be here this early. you quickly pulled out another plate with a bagel before running to the door.

"good morning!", you exclaimed as you gestured for Erwin to come in. "i have a bagel for you, if you'd like."

"did you make it?", he pried as he followed you down the small hallway into the kitchen nook. he felt like a giant in your small living quarters.

"i did.", you laughed, looking back at him over your shoulder. "i even made the jam."

"oh! then I must. What a wonderful morning.", he jested.

your black kitty crept around the corner of the living room where he could catch a glimpse of your guest. "you have a friend?", Erwin asked.

"oh! Pepper, yes. he's a fine companion. i couldn't stand to live alone." you didn't think about what you said.

"it's not so bad...", Erwin trailed. "he is pretty, though. it does tempt me. my horse doesn't fit in my apartment, unfortunately."

you smirked at his little joke. "i've never ridden a horse before. i'm not sure I've ever even touched one."

"well, we shall change that soon enough.", he said, followed by the last bite of your offering.

you kept closer to Erwin's side today than you did on your walk home yesterday. it was about a half hour leisurely walk to the stables. he made small talk about the library, apologizing more than once about how he came into the bakery so often but never introduced himself. you could tell he was a lonely man who needed someone to be around rather than just a character in his everyday life. he needed a relationship with a solid foundation, something he could come back to, whether it be platonic or romantic. it seemed as if he had no one.

until, he mentioned someone as you neared the stable. "My friend, from the survey corps, has a horse here as well. i spoke to him early this morning. if you want to learn to ride, he doesn't mind if you ride his horse."

"you must have spoke very highly of me to this friend.", you teased.

for the first time, Erwin laughed heartily. it was a deep, loud laugh. heartwarming, in fact. "you know, maybe i did. he knows of you. he has come to your shop before. short, dark headed. big scar on his face?" you noticed Erwin's speech become less formal and more causal the longer you talked.

"oh! i know him. he likes my scones.", you realized, remembering the somber man coming into your store a few times. "short? he's taller than me!"

"Y/N, he may be taller than you, but imagine a man his size fighting in the war. i don't know if any other scouts that were of his stature." Erwin shook his head at the memory as he pushed the door of the stable open and allowed you to walk through in front of him.

the manure smell was borderline overwhelming. Erwin chuckled as the sudden neighing of a horse caused you to jump a little. "the white one is mine. the black one next door is yours for the day. mine is named Sugar. Levi's horse is named Ember." you thought it was cute that Erwin's horse was named Sugar. "here," he said as he handed you a bristle brush. "brush him to get him used to you.", he instructed, gesturing to Ember.

the horse snorted and shook its mane as you brushed its coat. You were amazed at the way it's skin rippled at your touch. "hello, Ember.", you spoke softly to the gentle giant. "i am no horse expert, but i suspect you and your friend are well taken care of."

"i come every day either before or after i leave the library. but Levi, he spends a lot of time with Ember. he probably takes care of most of these horses here more than their owners do."

"whose horses are these?", you asked.

"mostly people who had military affiliation, or something similar, like myself.", Erwin answered.

you watched intently as Erwin saddled Sugar, and then Ember. he pulled a step stool over from the outside of the stable door to help you get on the horse. "let's see here... step up here, hold onto me as you get on. i'll help you up." You weren't sure if you should feel uncomfortable or not touching his armless shoulder for support, but he didn't seem to mind so you didn't give it much thought. his hand on your back kept you steady as you swung your leg over the horse.

beside you, Erwin mounted his horse with ease. "just gently hold the reigns. Ember will know the follow me."

Erwin and Sugar guided you out in to a small pasture behind the stables, edging on the border of town. "what's say an hour or so of some light riding, then we can put them up? nothing too wild for your first time." you nodded in agreement. Sugar and Ember enjoyed munching on grass and hay, trotting lightly beside one another as Erwin guided them around the pasture. he told you about how Ember's owner, Levi, had worked with Erwin in the survey corps and now lived across the hall from him. however, they didn't hang out, per say. Erwin said there wasn't anything nice for them to talk about, but sometimes they enjoyed each other's company. "Unlike most people, he doesn't seem to want or care for having a friend.", Erwin spoke of Levi. "It worries me to some extent."

you hummed in response. "i think everyone needs a friend. i guess you are his friend, but he doesn't utilize you as he should, because what's the use in venting to someone who was there for all the bad stuff?"

"i suppose that may be the case. anyhow, i can't force anything upon him. i hope one day he comes out of his shell. maybe one day you'll have your own horse and he can come with us.", Erwin winked.

"you wouldn't let me ride with you and Sugar?", you asked teasingly.

Erwin scoffed. "that is for Sugar to decide." the snow white horse snorted, earning a giggle from both you and Erwin.

Erwin lead you into a familiar, quaint bistro style restaurant for lunch. you had met the owner a few times, as you had met most of the other food establishment owners through a social held at the market when the town was still new and blossoming. everyone had discussed how owning a restaurant or shop would be difficult in the first year or so of living in Harmon, as the economy had to build itself up. it was in fact rough, but you all had managed to survive the first stride as everyone found a place for themselves in this new society. the owner was a peculiar woman, with an upbeat and loud personality. you knew she ran a tight ship at her restaurant. she had high expectations of her cooks and servers.

Erwin waved at the woman as she spotted him from across the room. she excitedly came over to the table you had been seated at.

"Erwin!", she exclaimed. "and Y/N! Y/N, it's been so long since i last saw you. we need to organize another get together soon!" then she looked at Erwin. "how do you know each other?" it sounded like more of a demand than a question.

Erwin cleared his throat to speak, but you spoke before he could. "he's my most loyal customer." you smiled cheekily at Hange as she raised her eyebrows.

"oh my! well, of course! the man has always had a sweet tooth, for as long as I can remember!" she threw her hands up. "any time we came back from a mission, he always wanted to have a treat before he could have some rest. do you know how many pans of sweet bread I have made for him?"

"yes, Hange, quite a few. but, they didn't compete with anything at Honey Bear's.", Erwin raised his brows at her. "stick to the savories."

"that's why I am the best sandwich shop in Harmon." she crossed her arms. "bring basket of muffins over next week and your meals are on the house."

"you got it. If you have time, we can discuss getting together with some of the other owners soon." as Hange left your table after taking your orders, you looked to Erwin for some explanation.

"she was a captain under me in survey corps, and i named her as my successor when i lost my arm. despite her quirkiness, she is quite intelligent. Hange actually performed many of the experiments and studies that led to what we know about titans today."

"oh, wow. i had no idea. i met her just after i opened Honey Bear's. she was actually the one who invited me to the owner's guild. when the market first started running, she and i would host a table together, until i decided to stop working on mondays."

before meeting you, Erwin came and went as he pleased. he didn't have any set schedule or routine to follow. the more time he spent around you, he wanted to arrange his day-to-day life to maximize the time he had to spend with you. he started coming to the bakery in the morning, as you opened. you gave him whatever you had made first, telling him that now he was your "sampler." some mornings, he came into the kitchen and watched as you and your employees mixed up the first batches of the day. on one particular morning, Madeline tried to teach both of you how to pour the perfect crepe into the pan. you couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy as Erwin was instantly better at it than yourself. other days, he sat in the dining room with a book. Erwin worked at the library as you ran the bakery, and at the end of your work day, he pulled your chalkboard inside for you and watched as you wrote out tomorrow's menu before the two of you went to the stables to check on Sugar. Levi typically took Sugar and Ember out to graze earlier in the day while Erwin was at work, so every other day, you and Erwin would take Sugar out for a ride. every evening, he fell asleep thinking about the feeling of your arms around his waist, your head resting on his back as you discussed your day with one another.

Erwin knew he was in love when, after about 2 months of this routine, he awoke in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, his chest heaving. it wasn't uncommon for Erwin to suffer from nightmares inspired by the events of the war. images of titans grabbing ahold of him, teasingly licking at his flesh before devouring him, the scenes of the limbs of his soldiers everywhere he turned.

but this one was different. he walked into the bakery, but no one was there. he called your name. the door was unlocked, so you must be here, somewhere. he walked behind the counter and into the kitchen, to find a 3 meter titan crouched over your already lifeless body, slowing consuming you. it wasn't like the other dreams where Erwin couldn't defeat the titans. he quickly slashed the nape of its neck, but it didn't matter. you were gone. he was too late. he watched as your blood continued to puddle underneath his shoes, steam bathing his skin.

it was all he could think about. he couldn't go back to sleep. he knew you were fine. after all, it was just a dream. he wanted to go to your apartment right then, in the middle of the night, to see for himself. to see that you were peacefully asleep in your bed with Pepper curled at your feet.

later that morning, when Erwin met you at the bakery, you could tell he was tired. you sat with him as he ate one of the giant chocolate muffins you had made. "you look sleepy."

"i didn't sleep well last night."

"is something on your mind?", you asked.

"there's a reunion of sorts coming up, for former members of the scout regimen. it's going to be at the banquet hall next month. former scouts living on other islands have been invited as well, so i suspect it is going to be a big deal and i should make an appearance. i'd like for you to go with me." you looked up at Erwin, your mouth slightly open in surprise. "will you? i'll take you to buy a gown next week."

you shook your head. "yes, i'll go. but there's no need for you to buy a dress for me. i'm sure i have something to wear..."

"but I want to.", he smiled softly.

"okay, then... i guess it's a date."

Erwin smiled, showing you his perfect teeth. "thank you. we can go to the boutiques next monday when you're off. i'm going to have my suit tailored to be a little more one-armed man friendly."

you giggled at him. "that's what you were losing sleep over?"

#attack on titan fic #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith #aot erwin #aot fic #aot fanfic #aot series #attack on titan fanfic

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migilini · 3 years

Note

Can I request an imagine with Charlie and like a typical day in their lives? Like they show their YouTube viewers their casual (Charlie chaos included) day? 💕

Typical - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: Sorry it took me a bit, had to take my wisdom teeth out... Anyways, I hope you like it :)) - Momo

words: 1.3k

warnings: fluffy like the clouds

requests are open :)

My MASTERLIST

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

“Hello hello and welcome back!” you told the camera propped up on one of your kitchen counters. The shot showing your tired face and loose pyjamas. A yawn escaped your slightly chapped lips as you tried to stretch the sleep away. Your eyes were heavy, your hair standing up in every possible direction, your body not fully awake yet.

“A lot of people asked for a little day to day vlog with the Gillespies,” you muttered as you made yourself a cup of coffee, the sparkling ring on your left ring finger very prominent in the shot.

“So we try to deliver! I just woke up a couple of minutes ago so excuse the light grogginess and don't know where my fiance is. Seems like you guys have to put up with only me for a bit.” you chuckled and poured milk into the steaming hot beverage.

“Sadly, we really don't have a lot to do today, well not much is planned…” you referred to the normal chaos a day with Charlie entailed. “We just need to run some errands, but I have a gut feeling that today will be a good one.”

You ended the clip and moved into your living room to turn up the radio. Ever since you were little, there was always some sort of music softly playing and therefore you hated a quiet house. It wasn't like you paid attention to the songs dancing through the air but the constant rumbling of background noise calms you down.

A little yellow piece of paper on the coffee table catches your eye. With furrowed eyebrows, you made your way over. Your eyes grew as you recognized Charlie's messy handwriting. Once again, you started a clip on your camera.

“I just found a secret message from Charlie on our coffee table.” you cleared your throat and started reading the note dramatically “‘Good morning Toots! I’m on a run and didn't want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful. I'll bring coffee from Allie’s. I love you, C Swizzle’” you grinned at the note, your heart beating faster with the love you have for him. “Hereby I declare the mystery where C Swizzle aka Char is as solved! I’m so hyped for the coffee. Allie’s is our favourite place in the whole city! Seriously if you're close by go and try it. So worth it. Now, until he’s back I’m gonna answer some emails and do our dishes from yesterday evening. You’re welcome to join me while I jam out to music.”

You propped the camera up on a shelf, filming yourself working for a bit. Then you went to the kitchen and turned up the music blaring out of the speakers you set up mere moments before. “Whenever I walk in the room. All the focus on me. The way I talk, the way I move. They all want on my team. Not tryin' to brag, brag, but I'm flawless.” screaming on the top of your lungs, you swayed your hips while the water from your tap filled the sink, the soap starting to bubble up.

“I'm taking over your playlist. Ain't perfect, but I can't miss, yeah. The party don't start 'til I walk in. I'm stealing all the attention. Don't get me started on mentions, yeah” A poor spoon had to be a placeholder microphone as you jumped through the small kitchen. Genuinely engulfed in the music, you didn't even hear the front door open and close. You didn't hear the footsteps walking towards you or the light chuckle that escaped the person's lips.

Sweaty arms wrapped themselves around your waist, making you scream and drop the cup you’ve been washing. The ceramic dish exploded on the floor, covering it in tiny splinters and shards. Charlie laughed at your reaction and pressed a loving kiss to your shoulder. “Sorry, Toots didn't want to scare you. I thought you heard me come in. Good morning by the way.” At the sound of his voice, you immediately relaxed. You weren't being murdered by an intruder. Turning around in his arms, you faced your boyfriend, your back pressed against the sink.

“I thought this was my last minute on earth. You really want to kill me before you even have the chance to marry me.” you chuckled and kissed his nose. “Where would be the fun in that? I do want to inherit some of your stuff.”

You lightly shoved him away but his arms stayed looking around your smaller frame. Looking down at the cup you frowned. “That was my favourite.”

“I'll get you another one. One that's even better than this one. Again I’m sorry.”

“I'll remember that. How was the run?” absentmindedly your hand brushed away some stray hairs that flew into Charlie's face. “Good.” he murmured “I don't like running with a mask on but it was all worth it because…” he turned around and got a little bag from the counter behind him. “I got us some coffee and that cream bagel you like so much.” you beamed up at him.

“Really?”

The next time you vlogged was at the grocery store several hours later. Charlie was pushing the shopping cart, while still holding your hand as you tried to deceiver your own grocery list. The camera sat comfortably at the front of the cart, framing you perfectly.

“Why did you think it was funny to write most of this in french?” you asked the boy next to you. He gave your hand a squeeze “Because you sometimes write stuff in german as well. It's only fair.”

You only rolled your eyes at that. “Yeah because I forgot the English word.” you huffed “Okay so we need d'oeufs. Eggs? And some milk. Right?”

“Mais oui mademoiselle.” He said amused.

“If you continue I will start to speak german,” you warned your boyfriend and you could bet that he was smiling under that mask.

“Threatening me in the grocery store? That's mean but the game is on honey.”

“You're gonna lose my dear. I had some french at school.” you let go of his hand and crossed your arms, raising one of your eyebrows at him while both of you grabbed some items you needed.

It wasn't the first time that the two of you suddenly challenged each other. One time, a couple of months ago, Charlie just randomly started to run and yelled back at you “Whoever is the last at the restaurant has to pay!” and with these words, he triggered your ambition. You struggled to get rid of your heels, hoping for the majority of the way as the two of you raced, reaching the restaurant sweaty and out of breath, earning some stares from other couples. Or another time where you suddenly claimed that you would be able to eat more pizza than him. A bet that you lost terribly.

Situations like this were normal for you, both really competitive and hardheaded. It was one of the things that spiced up daily life.

He raised both of his eyebrows, sparking a fire behind his eyes. “Essaie-moi, baby (Try me, baby)”

“In Ordnung, ab jetzt werde ich nur noch deutsch mit dir sprechen. (Alright, from now on I will only talk in german to you)”

Let’s just say the grocery shopping was a huge mess and took twice as long. You told Charlie to go and get the toothpaste and he came back with some pears which earned a laugh from you. Charlie tried to explain to you what he wanted to cook for you tomorrow evening, ingredients and everything but you only stared at him confused, occasionally nodding your head so he knew you were still listening. The dinner was gonna be a full surprise.

The two of you kept the act up all the way back to your apartment. You unpacked the food and had a camera recording somewhere. For the second time that day, arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzled in the crook of the neck.

“Do you have anything else planned for today?” he mumbled into your skin, his hot breath on your skin giving you goosebumps. A smile spread over your face. Wiggling out of his grip you sat on the tabletop and Charlie immediately stood between your legs, his arms around your neck. He leaned in to kiss you but before his lips touched yours you whispered “I won.”

His eyes grew wide and he pulled away slightly. He huffed and shook his head “Man I totally forgot about that. What is your prize, my lady?”

You traced his jaw with your index finger whilst your eyes never left his. “I demand… a thousand kisses!”

“A thousand?!” he exclaimed “My lady that's too many. You're going to starve the whole town.”

“Well then the town shouldn't have lost.” you teased back.

A smile was prominent on his face as he leaned in closer again “I must say you're a demanding ruler. But it seems like I must comply…”

The two of you stayed in bed for the rest of the day, only moving over to the couch to zap through Netflix. Naturally one of you already placed the camera on the shelf next to you.

Charlie tapped you on the shoulder, looking up from his spot half between your legs and on top of you.

“Yes, bubbs?”

“Play with my hair please.” he nearly whispered and made himself comfortable once again. Tiny hands finding their place in his dark hair.

At first, it was really weird to vlog all the time especially on a day where you and Charlie were just fooling around and being lovey-dovey. Luckily, you could still decide how much you wanted to cut out for the final video.

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

Taglist: @alluringworld

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fluff #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie fanfic

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queenoftheworldisdead · 3 years

Text

Lane close

Note: Inspired by @sapphirescrolls https://sapphirescrolls.tumblr.com/post/633710107595767808/i-had-an-obnoxious-encounter-whilst-driving-so-ya

Summary: Going home there is always traffic.

Warning: bondage, forced sex, non consent, kidnapping

Dark Thor x reader

It felt like you had been stuck in the car for over an hour. It was so infuriating that one lane could clog up traffic so badly.Throwing your head back on the seat you start to stare aimlessly at the taillights in front of you.

Incoming traffic rushed by, but out going was yet again a drag. You could've sworn the construction workers were just fucking about instead of working. If there were any other options as a home route you would have taken it, but unfortunately there wasn't one.

Since the weather had been unusually fair you decide to roll the windows down.

"Hey Siri, play my rush hour playlist" you call out to your cell.

The robotic voice came alive on your command, changing from the radio to your music. Tapping your finger on the steering wheel in time with the beat you sing to yourself while sitting through this slow torture.

"HEY!" Someone called out. Checking your rear-view you scanned to see if someone behind you was trying to get your attention. From what you saw the driver behind you seemed to be on his phone so maybe you were just hearing things.

"HEY!" Even with the music blaring that voice pierced through.

Scanning all around this time your eyes land on a giant of a man in an orange safety vest and hard hat. One of the road workers was waving his hands in the air trying to signal you. Scrunching your brow you look at him curiously. His bright smile was certainly infectious as he began dancing when your attention was focused on him. He was surprisingly on beat, but the sight of it was so goofy you had to laugh and the more you watched goaded him to do more.

*HONK HONK HONK

"Okay, okay" you say to the car behind you even though they couldn't hear you. Turning your focus back on the road and get in gear. He had distracted you so much that you hadn't noticed traffic move on a bit. Without giving him another glance you drive onward to home.

The construction on the road had been going on for over a month and you truly couldn't tell what they were working on out there. At least it never hindered you going into work. As you passed the closed lane in the morning you would glance over at the abandoned equipment while you wait at the light to change colors again.

When you were in the office your days were filled with meeting after meeting. The first one was just about to start and you were the only one in the conference room. Walking over to the window you watched the construction workers start their day along the outstretched roadway.

"Hey Y/N, you coming to lunch with us tomorrow?" Cathy's voice broke you from your trance at the window.

"What's going on tomorrow?"

"Tiffany is having a going away lunch. It's going to be at Zoe's kitchen since it's just right across the street"

"Ugh I hate that place, but I will go."

Moving from the window you take the seat next to her at the conference table. "Do you take Woodway avenue to go home?" You ask the curly haired accountant as she opens her laptop.

"I used to, but the traffic has been so bad." She answered. "I normally go over to Sam's since it's the other way. By the time I leave there traffic is normally cleared out."

"Oh, wow. How long has this been going on?" You integrate her.

"I had been dropping hints to him for a while, then one late night a few weeks ago"Cathy's mysterious grin spread on her lip.

"Cathy! In the office" you try and lower your voice after the shock. She only shrugs while you shake your head in disapproval. "Any who I was sitting in traffic yesterday and heard someone shouting. I look over to see this road worker shouting at me then he starts dancing like a fool."

"Was he cute though?"

"That’s besides the point"

"So he was cute then...Next time take a picture I wanna see this construction hottie" she jokingly asked as more people started to file into the conference room.

When you got into your car at the end of the day you were happy to leave, but not excited about what lay ahead. Your gas indicator was dangerously low today and you cursed yourself for not filling up your tank last night. You knew it was enough to get home, but the gas at the station a few blocks from here was cheaper than the one by your apartment.

As the dead lock breaks to allow you to drive more than a few inches you signal so that you can get over in time to reach the station.

Pulling in you parked in front of the pump. The tank was on the passenger side so you walked around, popped the cap and grabbed the hose.

The bell on the gas station door chimed behind you. Spilling from the doors a group of road workers presumably on break or grabbing snacks for their journey home. Your head reflexively turned towards the noise then your eyes locked with the golden haired goofball from yesterday. When he saw you his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Hey!" he shouted and waved at you excitedly dancing his dance making you snort. When your hear the click from the hose you turn away. Pulling out the nozzil you put it away and walk to get back into your car. Glancing up you spot him looking back at you, waving goodbye as he and his group walk over to a large red pickup truck. You wave back then startup reluctantly ready to sit through this traffic jam again.

In the rear-view you spot the massive truck he got into. It trailed a few cars behind, but it wasn't hard to miss.

Even after you broke free of the jam it seemed to be heading in the same direction as you. To ease your mind you drive into McDonald just before your turn off point. It was another late night of coming home and cooking for yourself wasn't going to happen.

After you placed your order through the speaker you see his car pull in too.

You are just being paranoid. He is probably hungry. You're overthinking things.

Paying for your food you then leave and speed on toward your street. Peeking at your rear-view you spot his truck again in the far distance.

Calm down. This is a popular road a lot of people take this route.

Shaking off the paranoia as you spot your street sign. Signaling you pull into the turning lane. As you waited at the light you watch as the truck gets closer, but the light turns green before you can see if he gets into the same lane. Turning on your street you breathe a sigh of relief when you saw it kept going straight instead of turning down your road.

The next day lunch came around before you knew it. Leaving your desk you go and grab Cathy. When you do she's shamelessly flirting with her new office bae, Sam.

"You ready to go or..." You ask leaving enough space for innuendo as you poke your head in through Sam's office.

"Yes, yes" Cathy turns to you pouting. "I'll see you tonight" she pecked him on the cheek before heading to the elevator with you.

Exiting the office you two head out toward Zoe's, chatting about the usual office gossip. The bustling sound of the road work buzzed around your office building. The walk to Zoe's would be brief, but noise and the smell of tar had you regretting the choice to go out for lunch.

"Oh my gawd there he is" you point in the direction of the statuesque blonde currently jack hammering the road. In his bright orange vest you could see pools of sweat seep through. His sleeves clung to his toned arms, his muscles flexed as the machine pounded and you wondered what the rest of him looked like underneath.

"Oh damn" Cathy exclaimed practically drooling at the sight of him. You had to nudge her ribs to stop her from staring.

The pedestrian light turned green as you two approached allowing your little group to cross the street. As your pumps hit pavement you heard his distinct call. Cathy turned her head to look before you did. When your eyes landed on him, he did his little dance this time adding in a crotch grab then blowing you a kiss. The shock of the lewd gesture had you both scrunching your faces in disgust before turning away and continuing on. He shouted at you more but you refused to give him anymore attention.

You checked your traffic app to see if there was anyway to avoid Woodway, but all the road lines were colored red. Signaling that they would be just as bad as going around.

Instead of sitting in traffic again you decided to stay in the office later. Spending an hour in the office sounded better than an hour in traffic.

You passed the time shooting off a few emails, scheduling a few client meetings and reading through some paper work you had put off earlier in the day. Checking your watch after all that done you were satisfied that enough time had passed so you pack up to leave.

Pulling out of the parking garage you were relieved that traffic had indeed cleared up. Though it was late you were tired of fast food. With all the road work you found it easier to get drive through than cook. Breaking from routine you head to the grocery store.

Walking down the various aisles while you load up your cart. The smell of fabric softener wafted through the air. The fragrant smell reminding you that you were running low on detergent.

Going down the aisle you find your favorite brand and smell the clean scent of the box.

"Hey!" The familiar voice of the construction worker startled you causing you to drop the box of detergent on the floor. "Oh sorry" his accent caught you off guard as well, he had only ever said one word to you before this point. Walking up closer as you bent to pickup the box.

"It's OK." As you rose to straighten. Your eyes roamed his stature you noticed he held a case of beer in one hand and his cell in the other. From the distance in your car you had thought he was tall, but now as he stood so close you had to crane your neck to meet his gaze.

"I just want to say sorry for the other day...I was trying to do that Michael Jackson dance and well..." He trailed off.

"That's what that was?" You cocked a brow at him. "Michael would probably roll over in his grave if he knew." You playfully kid him. He erupted with such laughter you were slightly embarrassed at the volume.

Clutching the detergent close to your chest you take one step back while he took one step forward. He stopped laughing and just smiled down at you.

"My name's Thor"

"I'm Y/N"

There was a thick silence that fell before you spoke again. "Well, I should go" you move your cart and start to push it away.

"You're checking out right me too" his smile was so infectious, but you couldn’t match his energy.

He followed beside you as you made your way to the checkout line. His presence almost suffocating as he walked quietly next to you.

He waited behind you in line and you thanked your lucky stars there wasn't anything embarrassing in your cart this time around. When the cashier finished you waved him goodbye and walked off as fast as you could, but he caught up to you before you could exit the automatic doors.

In the dim light of the parking lot his pickup truck stuck out like a sore thumb in the distance. Luckily it was on the opposite aisle from yours.

"Sooo news on when that road might be fixed?" You try and break the awkward silence.

"Oh I don't know. I just do the work they don't tell me anything" he answered rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, I guess I will see you tomorrow" you say as you approach your car. Waving goodbye you separate and push your cart to the back of your car. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but you had already started on your jaunt to the trunk.

Loading the car you peer over to see Thor in his truck lit by the light of his cellphone through his windshield. After closing the trunk you hop in the car. Starting the car you ready yourself to back out.

*POP

"What the fuck?" You exclaimed as your car gyrated in a peculiar manner. A worried crinkle rested on your forehead as you contemplated the obvious.

Putting the car back in park you take your phone and get out to examine the tires. The front driver side was fine, but when you walked to the rear the back was tattered and flat. Bending down you look for what could have caused such damage.

"You okay?” Thor boomed from behind you. His branch of an arm resting on his open window as he watches you bent over examining the flattened wheel. His truck now parked beside yours.

"Yeah, just a flat." You reassured him. You unlock your phone and lookup triple A while Thor hops out of his truck. "I have someone coming it's fine Thor" you try and wave him off, but he doesn't leave. Thor's arm wraps around your waist pulling you flush to his chest. Your phone drops from the surprise embrace. "What the hell are you doing?" You shout at him while digging your nails into his arm as you try and pry free.

He didn't answer you and the more you struggled the tighter his hold seemed to be as he inched closer to his vehicle. Thor opened the back door of his truck with one hand as you fought to get out of his other. Your feet lifted from the ground as he brought you up and tossed you in. When your back hit the leather of the seat you rise on your elbow and scurry backwards until your back hit the opposite window. Turning to open that door Thor yanks your ankle so hard that your entire body lays flat along the cushion again.

You somehow free your ankle and kick over a tool box behind the passenger seat in the process. The contents spilling in and out of the truck. The next kick landed in the center of his chest, but he catches it right before its impact.

"This isn't funny Thor let me go!" You demand. Thor ignored you and proceeded to pull off your shoe. Once removed he then tosses it over his shoulder.

His eyes stayed laser focused on you while he placed kisses on the top of your foot then trailed them gently down your leg. You try freeing yourself from his clutches again until Thor stopped. You watched on as he opened his mouth wide on your thigh then sinking his teeth into your meaty flesh. You whale loudly from the pain then shoot forward to grab a fist full of hair. Pulling it as hard as you can until his hands encircle your wrist. Pushing them together he holds them with one hand while the other digs through the mess of tools on the floor.

"You know you were always the highlight of my day?"

Your eyes grew wide at the sight of the thick white plastic strips. Twisting and thrashing under him he only scoffs at your attempts. Looping the zip tie around your wrists then around the handle of the back door. The tightness of the restraints only increased as you struggled, your fingers starting to tingle at the loss of circulation.

"Construction was actually supposed to be finished a long time ago, but I made sure to get the project delayed."

Hovering over you once he locked you in place his once infectious smile turned sinister. Lowering himself back down his meaty palm glided up and down your exposed thigh. Pushing your skirt past your waist he starts to pull your panties down as your legs continue to flail. Catching your knees with his hands he forces your knees to bend so that he could comfortably wedge himself in-between.

"You don't have to do this. You don't have to do this" your words were filled with panic and fear. There was nowhere to move as his head lowered down.

"Wait, wait. I have money. Just in my purse" you sob. "Thor your a nice guy please, donnnnnnnnnnn't" your whiny sobs did nothing to stop his assault.

He flung your panties out of the door and stared at your folds before lowering himself further. His hot breath sending shivers up your spine.

He hummed as he flattened his tongue on your folds. Your hips bucked involuntarily when he sunk his tongue inside you.

Dipping it in and out causing a moan to spring from your lips. No matter how hard you begged he did not relent it was as if your protests urged him on. Holding your legs apart you felt his fingers dig into you. The pain of his grasp and the overwhelming sensation of his tongue drove you mad.

"Oh sweetheart you taste so sweet." He said pulling back from your panting form.

Your shirt was still tucked in your skirt so Thor haphazardly pushed it up and out. Moving the fabric halfway up your neck to expose your breast. When he pulled down on your bra a strap broke.

"Sorry about that" Thor chuckled as he took both breast in his hand, pushing them together then began kneading them like dough. He hissed as he played with you as your protest fell on deaf ear.

Moving his head down to your chest Thor rubbed his course beard harshly over your breast. Inhaling each deeply before trailing kisses all around the top. His hands released your breast and you watched on in horror as he tossed his shirt, pushed his pants down his waist along with his boxers.

"No no no" you cry out as Thor pushed up almost level with you. The weight of him almost crushing your chest. His hand clasped your chin and forced your head forward to face him when you tried looking away.

"I am going to make you so happy Sweetheart"

The back door remained open as he pressed the head of his cock into your mound. Feeling the pressure of him pushing into you Thor devoured your lips before you could let out another cry for help.

Thor took his time as he eased into you. His tongue invading your mouth as you felt him stretch you. He smelled of sweat and tar. His hair cascaded over you while his hands roamed your body. Squeezing and pinching on your fatty flesh so hard that your body jerked and jolted.

Thor's speed increased as time went on and you felt your pussy grip and hold him. Betraying you to take pleasure from his forceful violation. His cock plunged deeper and deeper as your cries turned to heavy mewls. He pulled away from your lips with a deep groan.

"That's it Sweetheart" he praised as your cunt gripped his cock repeatedly. "Mmmmmmm Fuck shit!" You came around his cock unwantedly while he continued to praise you for being such a good girl for him.

Your pussy grew wetter as you stayed at the mercy of his control. Thor moved to plant one hand on the window and snuck the other under your ass. When he gripped your cheek hard your back arched and the move allowed him to sink deeper into you. The truck rocked as he fucked harder into you. "Hear how wet you are for me." His cock ravished you, stretching you beyond your limits.

"MMMm shit!" You exclaimed as you came again around his pounding cock. As your cunt squeezed his dick you felt his cock begin to twitch inside of you. Then a warmth overflowed inside your convulsing pussy. Thor's hold would surely leave bruises as he dug into you. As a warmness bloomed in your core he stilled himself and as it leaked out he plopped down on top of you, crushing you under his weight, you felt his seed seep out of you.

After another few minutes he got up and off you. Putting on his discarded shirt and pulling up his pants. He slid out of the back seat closing the door leaving you still bound.

You heard him pop the trunk of your car and the familiar sound of plastic bags. It took a while before he reappeared at the drivers door and got in.

"All right I moved your groceries! Let's go home we both have work tomorrow." He said then started the trucks engine and set off out of the parking lot.

#dark thor x reader #black writer #dark!thor x reader #smut #dark smut #dark!thor x black!reader #dark thor x black reader #Dark!Thor x black reader #Dark Thor x black!reader

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tkc-info · 3 years

Text

Confession At Night

OCtober 2021 day 2 - glass

2018

“Did you know that glass is made out of sand?” Oliver asked.

Cal hummed. She wasn’t paying much attention to him, but rather was laying on her back —heedless of how her scalp would be itching with sand for days— with her eyes trained on the sky. Tonight, like most nights, it was almost devoid of stars; yet Cal insisted, like most nights, on checking for her ‘second star to the right’.

“It’s molten at a very high temperature to create a whole new material.” Oliver continued. He was rambling, and knew it.

“Lovely.” Cal murmured noncommittally “That means that if we set this place on— ah, there!”

She clutched his shoulder (not his hoodie; she was wearing that) and yanked him down to the sand. Then, she pointed up at two stars in particular. “‘Second to the right, and straight on till morning’. That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to Neverland.” she slapped his pectoral “I told you today was the day I’d find it.”

Oliver snorted. His parents had decided to bring them to a beach outing so that they would destress from school. Oliver, of course, knew the trip was but a plan to get him to see whether Cal was Saz, but Cal had proudly declared today would be her lucky day because ‘beaches weren’t all that polluted and shit’.

“I thought the place was called Wonderland.” he said as he propped himself up on his shoulders. Just to annoy Cal.

And indeed, Cal was close to enraged. “Neverland, asshole.” she lightly kicked him “Don’t compare a piece of art to such bloody rubbish.” she groaned, then sat up “Really, I don’t know what kind of crack Lewis Carroll was on when he wrote those books. I finished Alice Through The Looking Glass last week, and it’s all nonsensical. She goes through a mirror and ends up in a world similar to her own, but where giant insects take the train and laws are impossibly alien? Oliver, dude, what does jam tomorrow and jam yesterday but not jam today mean?”

Oliver shrugged. “As if I knew.”

But Cal’s words secretly bothered him. In his current state of tension, he couldn’t help but think of his homeland. Her homeland.

Mirror was a reflection of the only world Cal had ever known. In a metaphorical sense, a thin coat of glass separated her reality and the life she should have lived as Saz. The Kinship was much like the literary world she found so nonsensical: a united nation hidden in the depths of the Earth, twisted conservatism, beings who could pretty much become talking insects, people who could bend reality in unimaginable ways…

Cal stood up and walked to the freezing sea as a familiar guilt enveloped Oliver. There was also a wall of glass standing between his best friend and him. A one-way mirror that showed him everything about her, and her only what he was allowed to show Aboveground.

Heck, Oliver knew more about Cal than Cal herself. He knew what her parents were —had been— the position her aunts and uncles had in The Kinship, the friends that so fervently wished for her safety… and a dozen other secrets she should’ve been entitled to knowing.

Oliver looked at the sand, hesitating momentarily before deciding to go for it.

‘I’m sorry’, he wrote. In Sazla; Oliver may have grown up in Aboveground London, but Sazla still was his native tongue and the one he felt the most comfortable in.

The guilt over lying to Cal had began gnawing at him when he was around eight. At the time, he’d promised himself never to keep non-Saz secrets from her. He’d succeeded. At least for the most part. Recently he’d realised something about himself he needed to tell someone —Cal— but whenever the opportunity to tell his secret to her arose, Oliver always backed down.

Cal came back to him with her legs freezing wet; on her hands, the bottle of iced tea she’d buried underwater a few minutes ago. She plopped down on the sand, opened the bottle and chugged down half its contents. “Tea?” she offered Oliver, who took the bottle but didn’t move to drink from it.

This morning he’d promised himself he’d tell Cal that secret of his. No matter what. Oliver knew he had to tell her or else he’d explode.

“Oliver, what’s wrong?” Cal’s laidback demeanour promptly disappeared as she noticed the change in Oliver. Gingerly, her hand moved to grab his —Oliver noticed she’d began doing that when she wanted to comfort but didn’t have the necessary words.

Oliver squeezed her hand gratefully; closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “I want to tell you something.” he opened his eyes and turned to her “Mind you, I’m irrationally scared of telling you this.”

Cal tensed. Oliver wasn’t allowed to do this, but he reached out to her and willed her shoulders to relax ever so slightly. Using his insignia helped release some of his own tension, and when he next spoke, his voice didn’t sound as scared as he’d feared. “I’m bisexual.”

He studied Cal’s face to see her reaction. At first, she only blinked at him —processing the information— but a second after his confession, she exhaled as if tremendously relieved. She used her free hand to also take Oliver’s, and pressed her forehead to his arm. Oliver could feel her silent laughter.

“Cal?” Oliver asked “Did you hear me? I’m bi.”

“Yes, yes. I did.” Cal drew back and met his eyes, a small smile grazed her lips “I just— Oliver I thought you were going to tell me you’d been diagnosed with something, or were moving to —I don’t know— Gloucestershire.” she smiled at him “But you’re bi. That’s amazing, dude.”

“Really?”

It was as if a part of the weigh he’d been carrying since childhood had been lifted off his shoulders; and if Oliver couldn’t quite walk straight, he now could at least walk on lighter feet.

“Of course it’s amazing.”

It wasn’t only that keeping unnecessary secrets from Cal hurt him. He had needed to tell someone, and to be reassured that his bisexuality was valid. No Saz would ever care about him not being straight, but Oliver lived at the other side of the wall of glass.

He’d heard his classmates say horrible things about queer people, and was terrified of what their reaction to him would be. Clara and Carter Whitaker always told their son not to care about his inferior’s ‘senseless bigotry’, but Oliver had to care. Otherwise he’d become the target of their hatefulness.

“Are you going to come out to everyone?” Cal eventually asked.

A breeze of salty air pulled her hair backwards, allowing Oliver to fully see her face: Cal’s eyes shone with fondness, and something else. Was it…? But no.

“I have to, don’t I?” Oliver shrugged; half achieving the confident tone he’d been going for.

“No.” Cal snorted, but wiggled closer to him “Your bisexuality is yours to share. No one’s entitled to knowing your secrets.”

“I know that. But I want to be out —or at least reach a point where if people don’t know I’m bi, then that’s on them— and talk about boys comfortably.”

Oliver didn’t ask for anything too extravagant, just to be recognised and respected. That wasn’t too hard, was it? His classmates and teachers would surely understand him.

But Cal frowned at him. Oliver thought she’d say something, but the only thing she did was lean against his shoulder silently. “I’ll kill whoever’s homophobic or biphobic to you.” she eventually said.

Oliver snorted. “You’re the best, CC.” he thanked, putting his arm around her shoulders and briefly kissing the top of her head.

“Oh, come on, don’t cover my hair in saliva.” Cal protested, but didn’t move.

“It’s already full of sand. How are you even going to get it off?”

Cal rolled her eyes. “You. I’m helping you dye your hair, you’re helping me wash mine.”

“Hm.”

The two sat in silence, then. Oliver allowed himself a contented smile as he basked in his first moments of being out. This was good, he thought. Just the feeling of being accepted and loved unquestioningly. And Cal had said it was amazing that he was bi. Oliver felt on top of the world.

“Oliver?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her. “Prepare to hear it many more times. ‘I am bisexual’; it sounds good, doesn’t it?”

@oc-growth-and-development @wagnerthedragon @iloveallmyocs @littleturtle95

#the kinship chronicles #oc-tober

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