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mconsent · 1 month

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7 Low Cost Marketing Tips to Grow your Dental Practice | mConsent

Opening a new dental practice is tremendously exciting. Finally, your vision and expertise can directly serve patients on your terms.

However, patient acquisition requires effort, especially with increasingly crowded dental markets. Simply opening your doors is no longer enough. You must strategically introduce your new practice to stand out and thrive long-term.

Community connection offers an invaluable yet overlooked opportunity to organically establish your practice as a recognized neighborhood pillar quickly.

The most successful new dentists invest in localized brand-building from day one. And the ROI is immense - engaged community members become loyal patients.

Follow this 7-step checklist to establish your new practice into the fabric of your community:

1. Ribbon-Cutting Ceremonies

Ribbon-cutting ceremonies require extensive preparation but maximally announce your practice. Identify key local dignitaries to attend like the mayor, chamber of commerce president, county representatives, fire and police department, EMS, etc.

Send engraved invites and call to secure their RSVP. Hire a professional photographer to capture images for press releases, your website, print ads, and social channels - this event launches your visual branding and marketing assets.

Order banner signage with your logo and practice name to display.

Provide exam coupon booklets and branded giveaways for attendees as they network and enjoy catered refreshments. Overall, a ribbon-cutting ceremony driving early patient acquisition and referral partnerships with invested community VIPs.

Don’t forget to send appreciation gift baskets to the police department, fire department and EMS, and to show your community that you care by thanking them for their service every six months.

2. Local Business Co-Marketing Partnerships

Beyond ribbon-cuttings, maintain chamber relationships to identify possible email marketing opportunities, and co-marketing community partners like spas, gyms, and hair salons.

Offer trial size dental kits and exam discounts to their clients in exchange for marketing materials showcasing your practice in their locations. For example, provide new client whitening coupons and your business cards to an upscale hair salon.

Their stylists then refer clients to redeem the promotional deals.

This achieves expanded exposure to your localized target demographic. Consulting with local businesses about collaborating in social community events is also critical.

Remember to also drop off your business cards and referral forms to local ERs and urgent centers since they receive many dental emergencies that need to be referred.

3. Patient Appreciation Events

Hosting patient appreciation events quarterly at your office itself builds loyal advocates.

Hire a professional caterer and event organizer to manage invitations and decor. Greet patients with a red carpet, welcome banners, balloons, and music to achieve a VIP experience.

Provide passed hors d'oeuvres, mocktails, gift bags and station activities like a photo booth. Also have games, raffles, prizes and discounted dental packages that incentivize bringing friends who turn into new patients.

Send follow-up thank you notes after events along with clinic newsletters to maintain connections.

4. Non-Profit Dental Service Volunteering

Contact local non-profits like children’s hospitals, veteran support groups, homeless shelters and health clinics about providing complimentary dental services 1-2 days per month such as oral cancer screenings and basic cleanings.

Bring plenty of your branded supplies. Not only do you educate those in need while showcasing your compassion but these organizations refer clients long-term who need more complex dental care services that nonprofit events cannot provide.

5. Local Sports Team and School Program Sponsorships

Contact youth sports leagues, high school athletic directors and fine arts departments about annual sponsorship packages. For example, provide funding for new uniforms and equipment in exchange for prominent placement of your practice's name/logo on jerseys, fields, banners and programs.

Families will constantly associate your brand with supporting their children's passions. Also donate raffle baskets to their annual fundraiser galas and buy ad space in event programs.

6. Elementary School Oral Health Education

Make oral health fun for kids! Bring puppets, oversized toothbrushes, tooth fairy costumes and prizes when providing classroom education multiple times per year.

Also give each child trial size dental products to bring home along with newsletters, your contact info and coupons for parents. Position your practice as both informative and family friendly while laying the foundation for a lifetime of preventative care from elementary to adulthood! Thank each school for having you, with a gift basket and continuous support.

7. Targeted Local Social Media Campaigns

Widen your reach across additional community touchpoints through social media by running paid ads spotlighting your grand opening, and letting the community see your fun side.

Be sure to join charity efforts every 6 months, donating regularly and displaying a big check of your donation for the community to see that you give back to the community.

Monthly social media giveaways are a great way to encourage social media followers to become loyal patients, in addition to engaging them in healthy, fun discussions.

A smile makeover giveaway would be a catchy way to start, allowing followers to nominate a deserving individual.

This not only increases your audience, but also makes you the dentist who did the nice thing that the dentist down the street never did.

By joining local dental, and non-dental groups on social media, you’ll be able to spread the word about your giveaways, and increase your following by requiring applicants to follow your account, and tag 2 people. You can also benefit from partnering with area influencers and bloggers to feature sponsored dental health content, in addition to posting videos online.

It would also be beneficial to give audiences an inside look at your state-of-the-art practice and friendly team through virtual tours and day-in-the-life footage.

In addition to marketing via social media, a great way to market through email is via monthly newsletters to clients, in which you can provide monthly updates, engagement opportunities, and ways to get involved. They’ll love it.

Learn How To Use Social Media To Market Your Dental Practice

Conclusion

Strategic dental practice marketing through consistent community engagement and outreach is key for new practices to stand out and acquire loyal patients in crowded dental markets.

This not only benefits your practice, but also strengthens neighborhood connections. Approach dental practice marketing as a marathon, not a sprint - persistently plant seeds through events, sponsorships, volunteering and social media.

Over time, you will organically grow an invested patient base that fuels referrals and retention. Now get out there and immerse your practice in the fabric of community life!

#Dental Practice

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thxnews · 6 months

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BAE Systems Showcases Cutting-Edge Innovations at I/ITSEC

BAE Systems Showcases Next-Gen Solutions at Prestigious Conference

In a bid to sustain global military force capabilities in a rapidly evolving digital world, BAE Systems is set to make a significant mark at the National Training & Simulation Association’s Interservice/Industry Training, Simulation, and Education Conference (I/ITSEC) from Nov. 27 to Dec. 1, 2023. Peder Jungck, the Vice President, and General Manager of BAE Systems Intelligence Solutions, emphasizes the commitment to elevate global defense and security through cutting-edge training and simulation solutions.

Shaping the Future of Military Readiness

Unveiling Differentiating Capabilities At I/ITSEC 2023, BAE Systems, in collaboration with industry-leading partners, will unveil groundbreaking capabilities, pushing the boundaries of military readiness. Key highlights include: Wargaming Solutions Introducing Pioneer™, a strategic decision-making system that revolutionizes planning processes. Simulation & Training Solutions Showcasing advancements in next-gen training tools like Project OdySSEy and the Helicopter Door Gunner Digital Training System, supported by subsidiary Pitch Technologies. ADAPT (Advanced Digital Analysis & Prototyping Testbed) A revolutionary system designed to transform data, enhancing preparedness and empowering decision-makers to predict, adapt, and succeed. Date Time Topic Location Monday, Nov. 27 5 p.m. ET Matt Crozier, director of Advanced Technology Prototyping, will highlight how BAE Systems’ ADAPT technology is advancing customers’ mission outcomes. Booth #2588 Monday, Nov. 27 10:30 a.m. ET Pitch Technologies to present at Tutorial Session 2: Live, Virtual, and Constructive (LVC) Interoperability 101. W305AB Monday, Nov. 27 10:30 a.m. ET Pitch Technologies to present at Tutorial Session 4: Introduction to HLA 4. W306AB Tuesday, Nov. 28 12 p.m. ET Kyle Draisey, director, of cyber and intelligence, and Don Widener, chief technology officer, will participate in a supply chain panel. Booth #2870 Wednesday, Nov. 29 10 a.m. ET Draisey will host a discussion entitled, “The Digital Quiver: Harnessing Cyber Effects Modeling to Transform Military Planning.” Booth #2870

Beyond Exhibits: Engaging Briefings

Premier Sponsorship at the Cyber Pavilion In addition to the exhibit, BAE Systems will play a pivotal role in large-scale briefings at the Innovation Showcase and as a premier sponsor at the NTSA’s Cyber Pavilion. The company actively collaborates throughout I/ITSEC 2023, exemplified by Bohemia Interactive Solutions (BISim), a subsidiary, supporting the I/ITSEC 5k Run/Walk/Roll, benefiting the Tunnel to Towers foundation.

Forging Connections and Unveiling Innovations

Visit Booth #871 for a Glimpse into the Future BAE Systems is dedicated to fostering new connections, sharing expertise, and unveiling the latest in defense and security technology at I/ITSEC 2023. Attendees can experience the future of military readiness and innovation firsthand by visiting booth #871. The commitment to advancing global defense and security is not just a statement but a tangible reality at BAE Systems. Connect with us at I/ITSEC 2023, booth #871, to witness the future of military readiness and innovation. Sources: THX News & BAE Systems. Read the full article

#ADAPTsystemformilitarypreparedness #BAESystemsdefensetechadvancements #BAESystemsI/ITSECshowcase #BAESystemssponsorsCyberPavilion #BohemiaInteractiveSolutionscollaboration #Cutting-edgesimulationtoolspresentation #Futureofmilitaryreadinessdisplay #Militaryreadinessinnovationsdisplay #Next-gentrainingsolutionsbyBAE #Pioneer™technologyfordecision-making

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skomedia · 10 months

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Joe Sko's Homeless Journey For Gifted & Cursed - Up To Tuesday July 11th

Joes journey for gifted and cursed On February 18, 2022 I attempted suicide by stabbing myself in the throat and trying to cut the carotid artery. When I woke up in the hospital I was upset and that because not only because I survived because I would be homeless, I was scared to death of being homeless. I spent seven days in the hospital recovering from my wounds in an additional 14 days in a psych ward, behavioral health unit where I found out I was bipolar manic depressive. Again, my biggest fear at this time was me being homeless after getting out. And the subsequent time I’ve had several manic episodes, one of which had me move to Southern California where I’m living right now. While going through a manic depressive state after being fired from a job where I was sexually assaulted, I watched a video of Joe Rogan and ari sharif chatting about his depression. This is where I decided to create giftedandcursed to educate people on what the mentally ill actually go through After recording a few podcast episodes with the fellow Bipolar friend Maraya. I decided to go a little crazy with the idea and actually to go Homeless myself. On June 18 exactly 16 months after I attempted suicide I donated everything I owned to the church soup kitchen I volunteer at save for one bag of clothes and my computer hardware so I can record and upload. The date was completely random. I did not choose it. I figured I’d last a month or two but I only lasted nine days sleeping in my car where my head or my brain started really messing with me. I started to get desperate. I needed to get some type of income in as soon as possible because I realized I was starting to behave like the homeless around me. Very complacent. I was looking for an search engine optimization gig on craigslist and found Eddie Barber an Academy award winning camera person. He has apparently the inventor of the gimbal and lots of other camera equipment stuff, so I figured I hit the jackpot. After a great conversation and meeting with Eddie, he asked me to set up a nonprofit foundation, called the Eddie Barber foundation for him. I did so, putting together all the paperwork, and was signed as his executive Director/secretary of the foundation I was allowed to use one of Eddie’s vehicles to go pick up a Wallet, but during this time I enter a Manic stage where I got very desperate and was trying to sell his 360 camera booth. My cell phone has been shut off at this time and my car has been towed for nonpayment. This is Monday, July 10. I drove to the church using Eddie’s car to confront the upper staff about someone stolen mail as well as stolen money that I have been reported to about. I told them that the production company really wanted to know more about the stolen mail, as well as the list of broken employment laws they have broken. This really scared them and they asked if they can opt out which I said no. This made them pretty upset. Several hors later I confronted the church security guard at which point he head butted me before I could finish my sentence. I defended myself, held him down and his girlfriend Jeanine run out and kicked me in the throat. Bleeding profusely from my nose and face immediately jumped into Eddies car, because I had no idea how many people were actually attacking me and I left the church property I started getting woozy and lightheaded and parked at an apartment complex and called 911 at which point they came within a few minutes and took me to the hospital leaving Eddie’s car at the apartment complex. The hospital fixed me up and gave me a ride back to my car through an Uber at 2 in the morning at which point I had to wait around 6 hours because Eddie Eddie’s car died and I wasn’t able to start it. I need a jumpstart. At around seven or 8 AM I was arrested by police officers because Eddie had called the car in stolen. At this point, I am still unable to speak well because of my throat injury and my eye is blackened. I called Eddie threatened to sue him if he didn’t drop the charges and I think that’s why I was released without having to sit bail or see a judge but I still have to go back to court on August 10 I got out of jail at 11:30 PM with only my cell phone. I was so furious and irritated that I created a video for Eddie that was very malicious but after watching it, I decided to delete it and I went to the nearest hospital and told them that I’m having a manic episode and that I’m gonna hurt somebody if I don’t I’m hurt myself if I’m not admitted. This was Tuesday the 11th and I was admitted to bhu on Wednesday the 12th. Staying seven days at the behavioral health unit I was released on the 18th and I’m now living in the sober living house with only my cell phone and Eddie still refuses to let me come by and pick up my stuff. Please refer to the pages below for the Content. I have been uploading during my Homeless research.. Gifted and Cursed FB page https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100093618002028&mibextid=LQQJ4d Sko media fb page https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100092877542288&mibextid=LQQJ4d Joe sko personal fb page https://www.facebook.com/joeskotheone?mibextid=LQQJ4d Read the full article

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nice-games · 10 months

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Security Booth: Director's Cut

Woooaaaaahhh One of the endings totally got me holy smokes that was dope as heck Security Booth: Director's Cut $

#paid #scary #dope

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fancooking · 1 year

Link

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tannimrose · 2 years

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#gameplay #horror games #scary #scary games #security booth #indie games

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mindminetv · 2 years

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Security Booth: Director's Cut | Playthrough & Review (3/7 Endings + Achievements) | MindMine

Let's jump into Security Booth: Director's Cut for the first time! There are 3 of 7 endings to experience in this video as well as a few achievements too! Learn about some of the lore of the game, experience some of the well-timed frights, and enjoy my stupid memes. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XU6d8u8oyVI

#youtube

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writefightandflightclub · 3 years

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Return to Sender: (Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN reader)

What is this? This is 4/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. I’m not gonna share the prompt as it’s spoilery, but it was requested by @sergeantkane who is a genius for picking this combo! It’s a prompt about LOVE LETTERS! Omg! And thus, it matches perfectly with Richard (trust me, I had NOT made that connection when I made the prompt list :P). Thank you so much for requesting, Clarke, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m excited about this one!

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Oh, I really quite like this one. Hope it makes you feel as soft as I did for Richard while writing it! Also- it’s my first bash at writing him, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who helped with film details too: those not already tagged in the post- @prurientpuddlejumper @witchyavenger @veuliee2 @waatermelon-sugaar @pascal-isaac

Word count: 4.5 k. So not a blurb, then? :P

Rating: Mature, for light steam (not explicit, but 18+ or out, please!)

Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Mild angst (but it ends well), Steamy. Kissing, brief non-explicit mention of erection. Implied coitus (cut scene). Richard works in a “correctional facility”. Small mention of attempted break-in. If I missed any let me know.

Tagging: @anetteaneta @isvvc-pvscvl @nowritingonthewall @supernovafeather (ONLY READ IF 18+)

GIF by @nathan-bateman

“Have you ever received a love letter?” Richard wonders shyly, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, his long eyelashes fanned out as his gaze dances over the monochrome squares.

Meanwhile, your eyes snap up immediately from your magazine, which you are idly leafing through, a breath catching in your chest.

You bristle at the question, and yet Richard seems either entirely oblivious, or entirely determined not to look-up at you. Perhaps both. So, instead of looking, he simply slurps the dregs of his milkshake, and pushes his plate of waffle remnants further toward the far end of the diner booth.

When he finally raises his gaze – a gentle prompt for you to answer him- his eyes are large and shining under the fluorescent lights as he peers at you over his glass, dabbing at his thick moustache with a paper napkin shortly after.

“No, never,” you state sadly, heeding his prompt with a small smile and a shake of your head. Not even a love e-mail.

“I’m surprised,” he flatters with a cautious smile. And, if you’re not mistaken, his eyes light-up with the faintest trace of desire. The barest undercurrent of passion, which is enough to have your heart beating like a drum. You notice it sometimes; this dull heat emanating off of him. It is a spark which never ignites, however - to your endless disappointment; you would fan that flame if only you knew how.

You swallow. He’s surprised? He can’t be that surprised, you think, a stone sinking through your stomach as you dwell too long on the topic of love letters, and meanwhile, Richard’s attention seamlessly diverts back to 3 across.

“You deserve one,” he says, still looking at the page, but a smile animating his wiry moustache. “A letter.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a spiralling sadness catching hold of you. Does he not understand what this is doing to you? This painful reminder? “Can we drop it, Richard?” you say tensely, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are even more soft and cautious than usual, causing you to admonish yourself for the bite in your tone.

“Yes,” he says. “Of course,” he smiles thinly, apologetically.

It’s simply the new job, you think. Director of Communications. The man has letters on the brain. Richard is so considerate, that you realise he must not intend to hurt you in dredging up the past; he would never. In a way though, you think, it’s even worse that he brings it up so… casually. You can only conclude he has forgotten that you sent your letter to him at all. Had your heartfelt words, declaring your love, had so little impact on him?

Maybe that’s it. After all, they seemed to have so little impact upon him at the time. What could you expect years later? On the other hand, you -apparently- remain rather sore about the topic, all this time later. It’s natural to be sensitive though, isn’t it? You’d written him a love letter and he didn’t write you back. He didn’t say it back. Didn’t feel it back.

And, perhaps it still stings so much, even all these years later, because you never did stop loving him, even if he never started loving you.

Feeling a sudden, overwhelming haste to leave, you thumb through the pages of your magazine so furiously that the next table turn their heads to look at you, until you find what you were searching for.

“Here, Richard. The article I mentioned. Dramatherapy for people who are incarcerated.”

You fold the magazine back on itself, fobbing it off on him with an unprecedented urgency, hurriedly signalling to the waitress that you’d like the check. The roomy diner booth suddenly feels suffocating, and you want to get out. Meanwhile, oblivious, Richard chuckles at the title of the article -some kind of pun, you recall- as you try to push down the unpleasant emotions surfacing within you.

“Thank you for this,” he smiles, looking up at you earnestly. Looking concerned as he reads the expression on your face. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes fix on the table, where his fingertips inch hesitantly across the surface, hovering moments from yours as he debates whether to extend comfort. You make the decision for him, snatching your hand back from his reach.

“Yes. I’m Fine,” you say, unconvincingly. “Can we please go? I need some fresh air.”

“Alright,” Richard agrees gently. He looks a little flustered, but, now sensing your urgency, he begins to sweep up his papers and to shrug on his jacket. He pulls out a small comb to fix his neat curls in place, and offers you a soft smile. “Maybe we can go to the park next?” he suggests.

As much as you want to run, you nod, some of your agitation dissipating now that the prior topic seems to be forgotten. “Okay. Yeah. That would be nice.” You school your expression into something calm, and you offer him a reassuring smile as his soulful eyes dance over you, a lingering but unobtrusive concern there.

As you split the check, you tell yourself for the millionth time that being his friend is enough; but even after the millionth time, you can’t quite believe it.

Still, today -Sunday- is your one day with him this week. And, no matter what you can’t have; you’ll take anything you can get.

He’s too dear to you to settle for anything less.

************

One month later:

You crouch in amongst the boxes on Richard’s front lawn. He is having a clear-out, setting out some items for goodwill, and some for a neighbourhood yard sale happening next weekend.

You are having fun assisting him in sifting through various items, occasionally bursting into a fit of laughter when he reveals yet another ill-informed, late night shopping channel “bargain” – usually some new-fangled, scarcely-used exercise contraption, which he proceeds to demonstrate in good-humour, making you fold over clutching your stomach in mirth. Occasionally, as you rifle through the boxes, you’ll be overcome by a pang of sentimentality when he uncovers an item with a memory attached; and -no matter how useless- he usually sneaks said item into his ever-growing “to-keep” pile.

“But this is the picnic hamper we took to Bound Beach Island! For your birthday, remember?”

“Yeah, Richard, but it’s battered! It has holes! It needs to go.”

“It was a beautiful day. The light and the dunes were beautiful… and… and y-“

“-Oh my goodness, what is this?! Please for the love of God tell me you never actually wore this!”

You work through the midday sun until you come to a tired, dead halt on the grass, finally parking your ass down and wiping your brow. Richard looks warm too, a “v” of sweat soaking his old, oversized “Save the Turtles” t-shirt. No - he really doesn’t throw anything away. You smile fondly, though, remembering his sea turtle phase. Of course, he’d read some article. He always was looking for a cause.

“I’ll make us some iced tea,” Richard announces with a tired puff of breath, looking more spent than he probably wants to admit after shuttling the various boxes. Still, the way his grizzled curls have fallen away from his harsh side-part appeals to you, sitting disobedient and undone on his forehead.

Thinking of him undone, you hear a faint beating of drums sound in your chest.

You ignore the music though, like always, instead smiling gratefully as he heads inside, and you take a second to collect yourself before dragging the nearest box towards you, deciding you may as well continue. This next box is taped securely shut, and you chuckle quietly to yourself when you notice it’s labelled “workout-gear”.

You peel the packing tape away and open it up, scooping out the pile of miscellaneous papers sitting right on top. Beginning to leaf through, you surmise it’s mainly unopened junk mail; mainly garishly printed promotional flyers - from a pizzeria which closed down years ago, you recognise. Probably hastily stuffed in before his last move and never dealt with. Absent-mindedly, you begin to bundle it up for the recycling pile, when a smaller, more humble envelope drops out on to your lap, a hand-scrawled address on the front. The stationary is resoundingly familiar.

In fact, everything about it is familiar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as it immediately dawns on you.

It’s your letter.

The letter you sent him, all those years ago. You’d needed to be apart from him- needed to go away to take care of family, and you simply couldn’t go without letting him know. Letting him know you were in love with him.

The memory is like a slow knife sinking into your chest as you idly turn it over in your hands.

But… It can’t be…?

It’s… unopened.

All the air leaves you lungs.

No. No. It doesn’t make a shred of sense.

You’d spoken to him right afterward, on the phone. The first time he’d called after you left town he’d almost pleaded with you, giving you an unequivocally clear, and endlessly painful answer that he didn’t want what you wanted. What you’d written about. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he simply wanted to be friends. “I- I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay exactly like it is between us – please? Can we still talk every day?”

But if he didn’t read it…?

You heart pounds so hard that you hear blood rushing in your ears.

He doesn’t know.

His words didn’t mean what you…

Oh my god. All this time.

You shoot abruptly to standing when you see him approach, as if you’ve been caught red-handed, guiltily stuffing the letter into your back pocket before he can ask you what it is, an abundance of thoughts screaming in your head.

He hands you the glass of tea, ice tinkling gently, and you take it from him, the coolness shocking your palms.

Assessing what you’ve been up to in his absence, and noting the carcass of another box, Richard glances down at the pile of papers strewn at your feet. He looks suddenly worried for a moment, as if you might have found an old porn stash or something – and he looks just as suddenly relieved when he sees they are more innocent papers, scooping them up from the grass.

“Richard?” you say, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and the letter burning a hole in your pocket as he drops the items into the recycling. He hums for you to go on. “Do you... You know when I moved away...?” your voice is strained, and you gulp hard. “Just before, do you remember getting any unusual letters or... weird post from me?”

“Like what kind of thing?” he asks curiously, turning back to you.

“I don’t know exactly,” you lie, nervously. “I have a feeling I sent you something? A sappy goodbye thing?”

You see him mull it over, combing his impressive moustache with his fingers. “I don’t remember, sorry. But apparently I was drowning in junk mail at that apartment. Maybe it got lost, or returned to sender?”

Despite everything, you exhale a small laugh. In a roundabout way, you suppose it had been returned to sender after all. You look at the ground.

“Was it important?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looks at you.

Biding time, you take a sip of your tea while you search for an answer. It’s refreshing.

“It… Uh. It was a long, long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” you muse, masking your sadness, and he nods, looking at least half-satisfied with your answer.

Except, it does matter. It matters more than anything. And, with a sudden, overwhelming need to grab on to the past, you track to the “to go” box, rescuing the battered picnic basket from the pile of junk.

“You shouldn’t get rid of this,” you state, your back to Richard, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice falters. You tense as you feel him settle by your side, his hand hovering tentatively at the small of your back but never quite touching. “It was a beautiful day.”

“No,” he insists. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hang on to it.”

His words are like a punch in the gut. You turn your head to your side, where Richard is, your eyes and heart almost overflowing.

Noting your sadness, and connecting it to the picnic basket, he does everything he can to smooth things over, like always. “We can get a new one,” he says, his brown eyes sweet and hopeful and bright.

You love him. You love him still and you can’t help but turn towards him and reach out your arms, dragging him in for a hug.

“No! No, I’m sweaty,” he protests self-consciously, but you don’t care. You just need to hold him, even only for a moment – and, for a moment he stills as you loop around him, never quite clutching you back.

When you pull away though, you could swear that dim spark of passion is present in his eyes again. That spark that never catches, no matter how much or how often or how hard you wish it would. Oh, how you wish.

“Don’t ever change, Richard,” you say sincerely, your voice imbued with fondness. “Okay? You’re a sweet, wonderful man.”

His eyes are immediately soft and bashful again, the colour of his cheeks deepening a little, a crimson undertone blooming under his brown skin.

“Yes. Okay,” he offers, with a nod, his eyes creasing at the corners, and his posture even bolstered by the compliment, you could swear, his chest puffing out proudly.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ignore the unread words in the back of your pocket; but for the life of you, you can’t ignore those drums.

************

One month later:

You bundle the yapping, happy little white dog into your arms, relieved that she’s okay as her little tail happily beats against your arm.

“Are you okay, Lady?” you coo as she nuzzles her snoot into your face, eagerly lapping little kisses on to your cheek. “Thanks goodness, sweet little floof,” you baby-talk as your eyes quickly scan around Richard’s place, setting his spare key down on the kitchen counter.

You’d barrelled across town to get here, after receiving a call about an attempted break-in. His neighbour to the left had your contact details in case of an emergency -it’s not very easy to reach him at work, of course- so here you are. You came to give things a quick checking over, assured that no-one suspicious had continued to loiter. Richard won’t be much longer -his shift has nearly ended, and you’d left him a voicemail so you’re sure he’ll hurry- but you still thought you’d go on ahead of him, especially so that he wouldn’t worry about Lady.

Looking around, thankfully all seems well, and you don’t think anyone made it inside after all. Slowly then, you allow your nerves to calm and your heart to settle, bouncing the little bundle of fur in your arms, and feeding her a treat from the packet on top of the microwave, just in case she’d been stressed out.

Calming, you can’t help but smile as you look around, absorbing all the little details of Richard. You do hang out in his apartment a fair amount, but most often you will meet or sit outdoors, when the weather allows. After all, he loves to feel the sun and fresh air on his face, especially after spending all day cooped-up in windowless rooms. To you though, this Richard-ness is like a breath of fresh air, and you let it all wash over you, drinking in the details of his simple daily routine. The discarded half-plate of frijoles and rice by the sink. The ironing-board piled with identical uniform-issue shirts, pants, and plain white t-shirts. The photos on the fridge door – some of you and him too.

Doing a lap of the living space, you further note the dining-for-one TV table, evidence of his relatively solitary existence, and you can almost see him sitting there. Can almost hear his soft voice relating the far-fetched storylines of his favourite telenovelas. You imagine him chuckling warmly - perhaps shedding a tear sometimes too.

You decide you should pop your head into the bedroom and bathroom to check there too, for good measure, and you set Lady down, the dog trotting along at your heels. Once you’ve done a loop, you sigh, seeking out a fresh task, and you circle back to the sink, scraping his discarded plate and rinsing it, stacking it in the dishrack. Then, you move towards the TV chair, intending simply to sit yourself down and wait for Richard to come home. After all, you’re here now - you may as well say hello; or, maybe you can even prepare him dinner after his long shift, you muse.

As you revisit the small, rickety table, however, your eyes more keenly notice that a bunch of papers are strewn over it, all identical- a series of pastel pink leaves of paper and envelopes.

Letters.

Handwritten, in his familiar scrawl.

Letters addressed to you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, as you wonder what they could be. You don’t want to invade his privacy, of course, but perhaps this is something that’s meant for you? After all, sometimes he leaves you notes when you come over to feed or walk Lady.

Still, this feels different, and, with a lump in your throat that you don’t quite understand, you pick up one of the leaves at random, skimming the first line, yet feeling only more confused than you did before.

You see your name at the head of the paper, followed by the words “my dearest love,”, and underneath, some other half-formed paragraphs, scribbled over and crossed out.

No, you shake your head, your stomach flipping over. That can’t be right, you think, even as your fingers scramble for another leaf - for leaf upon leaf, until you piece together what’s going on. Until, with every line you read, fragments of both English and Spanish, you feel as though you are piecing together his heart.

Could it be true? Is this really true?

Your fingers dive for a sheet more developed that the rest, where you see paragraphs of writing, and you devour the words like you are starved of love; for you are, aren’t you? Starved? And yet, you suddenly feel so full. Brimming.

My darling,

There are infinite ways to fall in love. Some are elemental, like a raging fire. A shock of lightning on first sight. Some are slow-burning and constant, the heat of friendship warming your hearth, defrosting your iced fingertips when you come in from the cold.

There are infinite ways to fall in love, and I should know, my heart, as I have experienced every one of them with you.

You can barely read the rest as tears blur your eyes, and your hand comes to clamp over your mouth as realisation sinks through to the pit of you, the page quaking -like a leaf- in your fingers.

You make my heart beat like a drum. When I look at you, I am music, without being played. When you’re with me I am dancing, without movement. If only you would touch my skin, I feel like I would sing. If only you would-

“-Are you safe? Are you alright?” Richard asks from behind you, and you tear your eyes away from the page with a start. You were so absorbed by this swell of beating music that you didn’t hear the scrape of his key in the lock. You didn’t hear his hurried footsteps coming up behind you.

“Richard,” you suspire, and for once his touch is on you without hesitation, his hands clasped around each of your shoulders, slowly running down your arms, and you nod quickly to reassure him, your mouth opening wordlessly. You’re safe.

His touch is warm through your clothes, and you think he is right- your skin would sing for him too if he touched you. Your love rattles you, like drums beating musically in your chest, pulsing through your body.

Then, Richard clocks your sideward, guilty glance at the pile of letters, and you see his panic instantly surface at the thought of all his unsent and unspoken words laid bare before you. All the pieces of his heart exposed.

At first, he looks apologetic, but then you step forwards a little more, into the circle of his arms. Arms which suddenly fall, unsure, at his sides once again. And, achingly slow, endlessly sure, you lift up you hand and you place it on his chest, over his heart, smoothing over his shirt and over the cool metal of the shield he wears there. You feel his heart really is beating like a drum. His chest is rising and falling beneath your hand, his breath quickened – eyes nervous.

You step a little closer, and your fingers continue their slow crawl, dancing up around his collar, inching further up until your fingers finally brush the bare skin at the nape of his neck, pushing up into the curls behind his ears, your thumb skimming his sideburn. You touch him, with your fingertips, and he does sing for you, a half-choked moan leaving his mouth at your tender caress.

“Richard,” you say breathily, searching his face, eyes openly appraising his beauty. “Don’t worry, sweet man. I love you too.” And, when you next meet his eyes there is no nervousness there. Not any longer. Instead, you find his dark, expressive eyes brewing with adoration, and that gentle but ever ascending note of passion.

“Darling, can I kiss you?” he pleads, his voice dogged by desire, his brow knitting together and his hands slipping bravely to your waist, circling you as you arch into him.

“Yes. Yes,” you say, and his mouth meets yours in a desperate, tumultuous crush. You sing too, your skin thrumming as you finally know the feeling of his thick moustache brushing against you. As you taste the sweet flavour of cherry sucker on his kiss. As you finally feel the texture of his slicked curls beneath your fingertips.

You kiss, urgently, until you are each smiling too broadly to continue, and instead Richard beams and presses sweet, intermittent kisses all over – your cheeks, your forehead, your hair, your neck- his moustache tickling wherever it touches. His hands are everywhere they can be politely, roaming over your back and your arms and your hair, and it feels so good to finally be held like this.

Eventually, he pulls back, his smile no longer tugging at his lips so keenly -lips now kiss flushed with deep colour- but shining in his liquid eyes. “How long have you loved me back?” he asks in a still choked, disbelieving voice.

You bite your lip, but then allow your face to split in a radiant, unrestrained grin.

Always. Always. I loved you first, you think.

You reach for your bag, reluctant to break from him so trailing your love’s hand in yours- and you fish out the letter. The one you’ve carried around since it was returned to you. “Take a look, Richard,” you encourage.

He looks from you to the small envelope, turning it in his spare hand as you pass it to him. “What is this?”

His brows rise in confusion as you tap the stamped postmark with your index finger. Years. Years ago.

“I sent you a letter,” you explain. “Telling you I loved you. That I love you,” you correct, squeezing his hand tightly in yours, amazed at how natural it feels already, to touch him.

He audibly gasps in air, looking pained. Devastated. “I never got it. I would’ve-“, he fumbles for words, but he can’t finish them, the magnitude of all those years lost to yearning too big to wrap his lips around. “I never got it,” he repeats sorrowfully.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that now,” you soothe. “I got your letter.” And, as you engulf him with your arms a soft smile takes over his features once again. He can’t help it.

“I’m so glad you did,” he beams, drawing you to him for another kiss, which you eagerly accept, opening your mouth to him.

God, he’s a good kisser, his tongue in you deep and eager, and the heat generated is quick to catch, a fire lit in the pit of you. That moustache is a divine thing too, his lips soft and full beneath, his mild-mannered tongue positively sinful as it works against yours.

Letting the kiss grow, you grab hold of him by the belt to draw his body closer to yours, arching your hips into his, and you feel an impressive bulge greet you as you do so.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers bashfully, angling his hips away from you, in case you’re not ready for… that yet. “You’re perfection. So perfect, I… I’m a little bit, uh, excited.”

You don’t blame him. You’re a little bit excited too. There’s a drum beating in your chest. Music in your heart. A song everywhere. A dance in your body.

“W-would you like to take me to the bedroom, Richard?” you purr, softly. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

You wish you could capture the bliss which sparks in his eyes then, and keep stoking it forever more. His whole being glows as if you are the sun shining down on him. He loves the sun on his face. He loves you.

He loves you.

*******

Later that night:

At some point after round three, Richard is ravenous, and so you head to the kitchen to grab some snacks. One of Richard’s plaid shirts wards off the slight chill, settled over your otherwise naked body. As you microwave something quick, you can barely keep the smile from your face – even more so as you glance over at the table full of half-finished letters. As the microwave pings and you grab out the plate, another idea occurs to you, and you simply can’t help yourself.

So, you pad mysteriously back towards the bedroom, where Richard is waiting. The blanket is slung low over his hips, skimming the dark trail of hair which draws your gaze down beyond his abdomen. He is covered, and yet you bloom blissfully with heat at your new-found knowledge of what lays beneath. He’s laying with one hand folded behind his head, and one hand rested on the soft, roundness of his stomach, which you had laid your head on only moments ago.

Richard’s eyes shine with unadulterated admiration as you enter, and you flash him a mischievous smile as you transfer the plate to his hands, and subsequently tip a cascade of his letters into the middle of the bed.

“What’s all this?” he asks, with a contented laugh as you bounce eagerly into bed by his side, humming in equal contentment as you slot yourself under his arm.

“I want you to read them to me. Will you?” you ask, sweetly, and he looks bashful all over again. “No-one has ever sent me a love letter.”

“Me neither,” he chuckles. “Or I thought so…”

He hesitates, perhaps feeling shy, but he wraps his arm around you securely, nuzzling you into his side as he picks up the closest leaf of paper.

He hums gratefully as you begin to stroke his smooth chest. He really does sing whenever you touch him.

“They’re not finished,” he caveats. “I wanted to find the perfect words and I… I couldn’t.”

“The words don’t have to be perfect. It’s more important that they’re delivered,” you say, your voice soft as you sink into him, and so, he gently clears his throat and he begins to read, his words and his rich, soothing voice filtering over you like warm sunshine.

After a moment listening, and letting his love and his letters envelop you, you interrupt him gently. “My sweet man. Promise me you’ll never write me another love letter?”

“Are they that awful?!” Richard exclaims.

“No!” you laugh, into his chest, tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just… I think I hate love letters, Richard. They’ve only ever kept me from you.”

His expression becomes wistful, lost in thought until a smile finally captures him. Then, with a finger curling gently under your chin, he dips down to plant a small kiss to the very tip of your nose.

“No more letters then,” he promises softly. “Let’s always promise to say it out loud from now on. Let’s talk every day.”

You heart full, you bring your hand up to caress his cheek, before planting a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips; and, despite what you’d just suggested, you plead for him to keep reading to you, his voice and his love lulling you to sleep in his arms.

With the love letters as kindling, your dim spark finally catches, your fire now blazing. You set it in a hearth in your chest, and you vow to keep it stoked for always.

THE END

Bonus:

#richard alonso muñoz x reader #Richard Alonso Muñoz #the letter room #richard alonso munoz x reader #oscar isaac #richard alonso-munoz x reader #luna's tumblrversary

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wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Photo

The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1

Or on FF

Tagging: @kmomof4 @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

Summary:

When Emma Swan’s boss & co-workers decided they are tired of waiting for her to start dating again, they reluctantly convince her to join them on The Love Cruise, a new experience where singles go to meet and flirt their cares away in the middle of the ocean. Dragging her brother, David along for the ride, she embarked on a two-week adventure that was about to change her life.

Killian Jones, former Navy Lieutenant and widower, swore off dating for the rest of his life. Which is why when his best friend Robin convinced him to take a job as the Captain of the newest ship in the fleet, a floating dating cesspool of horny men and women, it seemed a cruel twist of fate. Little did he know, one of the guests about to board his ship, would alter his own course in life forever.

Chapter 1: The Adventure of a Lifetime

“First he runs off and gets married and then he goes and gets himself a promotion. I guess you would say the world is his oyster.”

“Or he’s having his cake and eating it to.” The man at the back of the bar shouts.

“Aye, so today as we celebrate, I want everyone to raise your glass to our newest Lieutenant, and my little brother, Killian Jones. I’m so proud of you.”

“To Killian Jones.” The crowd roared.

5 years later

“That’s not how I remember it at all, I’m pretty sure you were the one who walked in on them.”

“I would have remembered that.”

“I doubt that, you were drunk as a skunk and before you left the room, you yelled to the poor girl, and I quote, I'm no weatherman but I know you're going to get 3 inches tonight.”

“God, I thought you said that.”

“That was all you man, I thought the Captain was gonna throw you in the brig.”

“I’m pretty sure Liam saved my ass that night.” Killian laughed, remembering how many times his brother kept him out of trouble in his years in the Navy.

“I think Liam saved your ass most nights.”

“Aye.” He nodded sadly and Robin held up his glass.

“To Liam, gone too soon.”

“To Liam.” He swallowed the warm liquid, gulping it down and putting his glass back on the table in front of him. “I can’t believe it’s been two years.” He added solemnly, memories of his brother’s urn as he was released out to sea, being presented with the flag, the sound of each pop of the as the rifles went off, staring out to sea to the sound of the bugle.

“Sometimes it feels like yesterday.” Robin responded and Killian closed his eyes, pinched his nose, before shaking off the memories and waiving the waitress over for another order. “So, what’s your next move?”

Killian sighed. “I don’t know yet, I’ve got a few interviews this week.”

Robin cut him off, “Cancel them.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to cancel all my interviews?”

“Yes, cancel them, I have a great opportunity for both of us.”

“Working together?”

“Yes, I told you that I got a job last week, right? Well, they need a Captain and I put in a good word for you.” Killian knew he had gotten some amazing opportunity the last time they spoke on the phone, but he didn’t provide many details on what exactly that opportunity was.

“What’s the catch?” Killian regarded him suspiciously.

“Why does there have to be a catch?” He smiled innocently.

“Because you would have told me about it sooner unless you’ve been trying to figure out the best way to bring it up. And you conveniently chose a night when we have been drinking heavily, so that tells me there is a catch, Rob. So, spit it out.”

“Ok, so there’s a catch, but hear me out first.” Killian groaned but put his hand to his lips with a locking motion and gestured for him to continue. “She’s the newest ship in the fleet, top of the line technology, she would be any Captain’s wet dream to sail.” Killian chuckled, sitting up on his stool. “3600 passengers, 1300 crew members, including the best purser any ship could ask for.” He grinned widely pointing to himself.

“Get to the part where you tell me this ship sails to the Underworld and has an excursion to visit Hades himself or some other ungodly reason to explain why you waited til I was piss drunk to ask me.”

“Ok, but I haven’t even told you about the size of the Captain’s quarters yet…” Robin frowned as he shifted impatiently in his seat. “Alright, it’s the maiden voyage of…” He covered his mouth, “The wurv ruse.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Fine, it’s a Love Cruise.” He shouted louder than he meant to. “One of those singles cruises where people go to meet each other.”

He tossed a brochure down onto the table and Killian flipped through it, his groan vibrating as he read the tag line out loud. “The Love Cruise, where singles meet on the adventure of a lifetime. Don’t you deserve a little TLC.” He tossed the brochure onto the table. “Oh, bloody hell.” He cursed. “Ma’am…” He gestured for the waitress. “I’m not fucking drunk enough to listen to this man anymore, if you could please bring a few more of those shots as quick as possible and make them doubles.” He added before turning back to Robin. “Are you out of your mind? What would give you the foggiest reason to think I would be interested in this?”

“It’s not like you would be signing up to be part of the singles cruise, you would just Captain her.”

“Why are you doing this?” He asked suspiciously. “You and Marian have been divorced for years and it’s not like you’re desperate for women.” His friend glanced to the table and Killian knew there was more he wasn’t telling him. “Out with it.”

“You know that woman I met last year?”

Killian chuckled, “How long do I have to answer, mate. You’re going to have to be more specific than that?”

“You’re hilarious. No, remember that entertainer I met when we took that cruise to Mexico last year, Regina Mills.”

“The lass we met who threw her drink in your face and told you to get lost? How can I forget, she’s given me months of pleasure just thinking about that moment.”

“Anyway, they hired her as the Cruise Director for this sailing, and it’s my opportunity to actually get to know her. You know because she won’t have anywhere else to go to continue avoiding me.”

“So, your selling point is that if I Captain this ship, I might get to see this woman destroy you on a daily basis?”

“Would it convince you to say yes?”

“I don’t know.”

“Killian it’s been three years. If you want to be celibate for the rest of your life, that’s your business, but you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket and slid it across the table. On it was a six-figure dollar amount, Killian grabbed the paper and pulled it closer to his face.

“How many years is the contract for this amount?”

“That’s per year, Killian.”

“Bloody hell.”

“It’s a lot more than the Navy paid us, and no one is going to be trying to sink our ship.”

He pushed the paper back across the table to Robin. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea, I have responsibilities here.”

“Brother, Milah wouldn’t want you hiding out on that damn houseboat, rotting away in your own depression. She’d kick you in the ass and tell you that you were being a bloody prat for walking away from this kind of opportunity.”

“Don’t invoke my dead wife, Mate.” He said angrily. Robin raised his hands in defeat and Killian knew he meant no harm. He sighed and looked over at the paper again. It was more money than he had seen in his entire life, and it was a real ship. He’d been working as Skipper on a fishing skiff for the last year, and while he enjoyed the security of being out on the water, it sure didn’t pay much.

“You know there’s no rule that says the Captain has to date the passengers, in fact, I’m pretty sure they frown on that type of behavior?”

“I get that, but I don’t particularly want to watch all the debauchery either.”

“I told you the Captain’s quarters are huge, right?”

“And they know about my hand?” He looked down at his scarred hand, he had lost the full use of it on one of the worst nights of his life, the night he lost his brother.

“They don’t care, you are a skilled Captain, trust me, they are very interested in you, Killian. All you have to do is be at the interview tomorrow, and the job is yours.”

Killian groaned, “I’ll sleep on it.” Judging by the smile his friend was displaying on the other end of the table, he already knew that Killian was going to show up to that interview.

~*~

“Have you seen that guy before?” Ruby walked over to Emma’s spot by the front door.

Emma glanced to the end of the bar. She hadn’t noticed the man until Ruby pointed him out. He wasn’t familiar to her, he was very nice looking, but also very intoxicated. “Don’t recognize him, but Will needs to cut him off.”

“That’s what you’re focused on, instead of how hot he is or the fact he’s new in town?”

“He’s ok, I guess. But honestly, I’m going to go tell Will to stop serving him. I don’t want to have to throw him out later.”

“Boo, you’re so boring, Emma.”

Emma turned and flashed her friend the middle finger before approaching the bar. “Hey, brown suede jacket.” She pointed to the man at the end of the bar. “How many has he had?”

“Oi, I was thinking of cutting him off. He’s been nursing that beer for an hour, but the three shots he drank with them seem to have accelerated his inebriation.”

“Yeah, cut him off, he’s swaying in his seat, let me know if he gives you any trouble.”

Emma walked back toward the door, surveying the tables as she walked past. She’d been working at The Wooden Nickle since moving back to Boston from New York almost seven years ago. Working nights as a bouncer wasn’t the most prestigious job in the world, but it allowed her to spend her days with her 6-year-old son, Henry.

“Everything good down here?”

Emma turned to see her boss; August Booth walking down the stairs from the above office. “Yeah, got a live one at the bar, Will’s already cut him off. I had to break up the two over at the pool table a few times.” She gestured to the man and woman currently making out against the wall. “I’m gonna head back there in a minute, before they start losing clothes.”

“I can always count on you, Emma.” August gave her a light tap on the shoulder and then headed back upstairs. “Tell everyone I want to talk to them before we shut down tonight.”

“Everything alright, boss?” He nodded with a mischievous smile and then bounded up the stairs.

She loved working for August. When she moved back to Boston, she hadn’t maintained a relationship with anyone except her brother, David, and her high school friends, Ruby and Will. Moving to a small town meant her skills as a bail bond agent wasn’t exactly needed, but August found room for her as a bouncer at his tiny but very busy bar. He’d treated her like family ever since.

She passed through the room, pausing at the couple in the back, to break up their make out session and then stopped at the bar. “Aug wants to talk to all of us after we close up.”

“Oi, did he seem upset? Shit, I bet he knows I was nipping at the whiskey last week.”

“What are we talking about?” Ruby approached and sat down her tray on the bar top. “Are we drinking whiskey?”

Emma laughed. “Aug wants to talk to all of us tonight, so I would probably say no, right?”

“That was a question, not a demand, so I say one shot can’t hurt us. If we’re all about to be canned, I want to take the news with some liquid courage.”

“You’ll use any excuse to drink whiskey.” Ruby mocked as he lined up the shots and poured. They each tossed back the glass and slammed it down on the bar.

“Ok get back to work.” She demanded with a smirk and headed back to the door to prepare for the close of shift. It was her favorite part of work, watching as the patrons exited the bar, some joyfully laughing, others grumbling with complaints of the upcoming next day, but mostly it was the time when they were alone, simply cleaning the bar and laughing together that she cherished the most. This was her family, and she loved them dearly.

“All clear.” She hollered an hour later as she finished helping the tipsy customer to a cab and reminded the overly zealous couple to remember condoms.

Ruby turned up the volume on the music and they spent the next hour cleaning the bar, Ruby dancing with her broomstick, Will singing loudly into the beer tap, and Emma watching them all with a smile as she wiped down the tables. She could hardly believe how much her life had changed in the last seven years. Ruby referred to these last few years as the years AN.

After Neal.

She had been devastated when Neal took off, draining their savings account of the money she had earned, leaving her alone and pregnant in New York City. Two months later, she came home with her tail between her legs, everything she owned in her tiny yellow beetle, and was left to explain to her brother David, that things with her and Neal had gone exactly how he had predicted they would.

She had been mortified to venture out of the home she shared with David for fear of judgement from their small town. Instead, she was embraced by old friends who came out of the woodwork to donate baby clothes, feed her, and offer emotional support.

“When did I start paying you lot to have a good time?” August boomed from across the room before breaking out into a smile and pulling Emma into his arms to dance across the room. He spun her around as they reached Ruby, switching to dance with the brunette until the song ended.

“The place looks great as usual.” He remarked to the three of them as he hopped onto one of the bar stools. “Come on, lets all chat.” Will gulped and August laughed. “This isn’t about the whiskey, Will.”

“What whiskey?” Will mimed. “I haven’t the foggiest idea…”

“I’m closing the bar.” Emma’s heart dropped. August sat solemnly looking down at his hands. He looked up peering around the room as a smile grew on his mouth. “For two weeks,” he added, “and before you all freak out on me, I’m still paying you.”

Emma breathed out a sigh of relief. Losing two weeks of pay would have killed her. She lived paycheck to paycheck trying to raise her son, missing a single day was enough to give her anxiety.

“On one condition.” He added and everyone in the group exchanged cautious glances. “We’ve all been working really hard and I wouldn’t have any of this if you all didn’t come to work every single day, even with William drinking my whiskey.” Will ducked his head. “However as much as I love you guys, I’m really tired of being alone.”

Emma was surprised to hear how sad August’s voice sounded; she knew he had been alone at home after his father Marco had passed. Emma had never heard of August going on any dates, or ever being involved with anyone romantically. But Emma wasn’t one to talk about putting yourself out there, she hadn’t dated or wanted to date anyone since Neal ran out on her.

“And let’s be honest,” August continued, “you lot don’t get out much either.”

“Hey, I’m just waiting until Ana comes around.” Will argued and she snorted to herself. Ana was Will’s ex-girlfriend. She had packed up and left town a year ago, leaving only a note stating it was over and she was moving to England with a guy she met online. Everyone knew it was over, except for Will. He still had his Facebook relationship status as “It’s complicated.”

“She’s gone man, it’s time to move on.” August said seriously. “And Ruby, I mean no offense when I say this, but you’ve practically dated everyone in town, present company excluded.”

“Speak for yourself, we went on a date once.” Will announced.

“That was a field trip you idiot, and the rest of the school was with us.”

“Ok but my point is, no one in town has been worthy of your affection.” August interrupted and then turned to her, “And Emma.”

“Don’t even go there, I have a six-year-old kid, I don’t have time for another child in my life.”

“Well, here it is, I’m going on a cruise for two weeks. And I’m willing to pay you each your two-week salary, as long as you come with me.”

“Oi, do you think you pay us enough money to afford to go on some fancy cruise ship?”

“Nope, that’s why I’m paying for that too.” He stared at Emma. “But it has to be all or nothing. Either you all come, or you all get a two-week unpaid vacation.”

“That’s hardly fair.” Emma complained. “I can’t just walk away for two weeks, Henry needs me.”

“First off, I already know that he’s about to head to summer camp for four weeks, so your excuse doesn’t exactly work.” Emma crossed her arms against her chest, she hadn’t expected him to know about that. “Ok, one excuse down, who’s next?”

“You aren’t going to get one from me. If you want to pay me to go on a cruise, I’m down.” Ruby hopped up on the bar.

“What’s the catch, Mate? Two weeks pay, a cruise vacation, something’s not adding up here.” Emma had to agree with Will, he wasn’t telling them the entire truth.

“Fine, it’s a singles cruise.”

“No way, I’m out.” Emma grunted, as she furiously wiped down the table in front of her for the second time that evening.

“Oh, come on Emma, who cares? There is nothing that says you have to hook up with anyone there.” Ruby pleaded, “I really want to try out my new bikini I bought last week. It would look so much better on a cruise ship than it would on our stupid beach.”

“I can’t go on a single’s cruise, I’m not single.” Will argued.

“She dumped you.” The three of them all shouted in unison.

“Come on you guys, we can all be there together, and just have fun.” Ruby continued to plead her case.

“Did I mention the alcohol is all paid for up front?” August announced with a wink.

“Bloody hell, I’m in.”

Suddenly all eyes were on here. “Please Emma.” Ruby whined.

“Free Alcohol, lass. We can just sit at the damn bar and drink all day. I’ll be your date.” Will flirted from the back of the bar.

“Brining a date would defeat the singles part, don’t you think?”

“Emma, you’re out of excuses.” August shrugged.

“Fine. But I have one condition.” She said angrily, coming up with a fool proof plan to get out of going. “If I’m going to be forced to go on this trip, then I’m not going without David.”

August laughed and surprisingly shook his head. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Dammit.

#TLC #The love cruise #stacy's fics #my fic #captainswan #captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fics #captain swan modern au #emma x killian #killian jones #emma x hook #emma swan

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

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Some warnings: Implied violence then some magical violence. Just covering my bases.

This chapter is long and it gets weird. Continuing on with a very slow burn. I hope you are all still enjoying this fic. Comments ❤️❤️ and reblogging all encouraged and appreciated. Please don’t pass this off as your own writing. I’ll find out and laugh at you.

Small Time Witch (5)

When you got back to the compound Steve’s phone rang. He walked several feet away from you to speak to whomever was on the other end. When he came back he looked flustered. “Everything ok?”

“Yeah. I’m actually going to have to run. I had a lot of fun with you today. I’d like to do it again. Maybe without stabbing?”

Before you had a chance to answer he kissed you on the cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You felt like he rushed out of there really quick and that made you nervous. You walked back towards the building from the garage and tried to call Loki. No answer. You tried Wanda but the call kept dropping. No texts from either of them. You pressed then elevator button several times. It was taking forever. You decided to take the stairs. All of the hair on the back of your neck stood up. You looked around and saw nothing. When you opened the door to the stairwell something (or someone) clocked you hard on the back of the head. You blacked out.

STEVE

Steve hated everything that was about to happen. He got the call on the way into the building that he needed to leave you there. It was time. Two masked agents would be waiting for you in the stairwell. They would blindfold you and take you to a small dark room. There, you would remain bound and blindfolded while someone would repeatedly ask you about sensitive information while you were being “tortured”. No one was going to physicality hurt you. Loki would use his methods to trick your mind into thinking you were being hurt. All SHIELD agents with high level security clearance went through this training.

Everyone was waiting in the upstairs viewing area. Steve sat down with a huff and prepared to watch. “You said this was to test her endurance under pressure. This is torture. For the record I hate this.” he said to Loki.

“Duly noted, Captain. I’ll have an ear piece and Dr. Banner will be able to monitor her vital signs. This is ultimately for her safety.”

“It’s cruel.”

“As a habit I do not deal in cruelty. I will keep her as safe as possible. I assure you no physical harm will come to her.” Loki felt guilty. He’s never experienced the emotion before but now, with a pit in his stomach, he had to betray your trust.

Nat tried reassuring Steve the best she could, “Look, Steve, we’ve all been through the real thing at some point in our careers. No one likes this. Better that she experience it now so she knows what she’s up against.”

He wasn’t convinced. Bucky sat next to him and patted his thigh. “She’s tough. She whooped your ass earlier. She can handle this.”

“How can you of all people believe that?”

“Because I have to or else I couldn’t bare it. If things get too dicey we’ll stop it ok?”

The room they were in was sound proof. They had mics to be able to hear you. It was all two way glass so, even if your blindfold came off, you wouldn’t know they were there. The agents brought you in. You were awake and fighting hard. They were instructed not to hit you or fight back but to secure you. They both looked extremely frustrated. One of them had a cut above his eye. They tossed you in the chair and slammed the door. When they went in the room with the rest of the team everyone stared.

“What the hell happened?” Steve asked

“She threw an elbow, sir. She almost got away. Had to taze her.”

Steve bounded across the room pinning the agent to the wall, “You were told not to hurt her.”

“Yes, sir. We were also told not to let her get away. We didn’t want to hit her again.” His nostrils flared and the back of his neck was red a splotchy. Nat put her hands on his shoulders and directed him away.

“Good job, guys. You can go.” They couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“See? She did exactly what I taught her. She’s going to be ok.” He shook his head and went back to his seat. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

They removed your gag but kept the canvas hood on your head. You struggled against the bindings trying to free your hands. They bit at your wrists. You called out demanding to speak to someone in charge.

Sam laughed, “Damn. Is she asking to see the manager?” Mostly everyone laughed. Steve’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t understand how anyone could make jokes right now.

“She’s remembering her one day of training so shut the fuck up, Sam.”

“Sorry, Cap.”

“Does anyone else feel disgusted that we’re having a public viewing of our colleague being tortured?” No one would look at him.

Bucky was the only one who was quiet. He was remembering himself in this very situation. He knew your mind was racing which is why you couldn’t magick your way out of this. If he could only get you to calm down. That’s when he saw Wanda pressing her face to the glass. She looked distraught. He went to sit next to her. Neither of them spoke for several seconds. They held hands and wallowed in their shared trauma. “She’s screaming for me, Bucky. I can hear her.” She wiped a few tears from her eyes, “She’s so scared.”

“You can’t tell her what’s happening? Can’t she hear you?”

“Loki put up a barrier. She’s alone.”

“How can he do this to her?” Bucky was furious with Loki.

“He is doing as he was ordered. You know what that’s like.”

“Ordered by who?!” he said in a harsh whisper.

“Director Fury. The Security Council. They won’t give her clearance for this or any future missions unless she undergoes the same training as any other agent. It was Loki who convinced them to do it this way. He takes no pleasure in this.”

“Then why did he agree?”

“Because if he didn’t do it SHIELD would have. She would be in the middle of nowhere being tortured for real.” Bucky was seething. Surely Steve didn’t know any of this. He went to tell him when you let out a blood curdling scream.

Everyone was silent. All that could be heard was Wanda sobbing. Nat tried to comfort her to no avail. The interrogator asked you another question. You played dumb. You screamed again.

“I hope Loki is enjoying himself.” Steve grumbled

“He’s not. How dare you say that?! This is hurting him too.” Wanda was pushing against Steve. Her eyes glowed red. He couldn’t think of anything else to do so he hugged her.

“Nat, call down to the booth. Tell them stop. Tell them now.” She grabbed the receiver to call the booth when the line went dead. “It’s dead. Somethings wrong. I’m going down there.”

Bucky was already out of the door running to where you were.

The whole place was plunged into darkness. Wanda smiled knowing that you were fighting back. A brilliant white light emitted from the room. You were floating above the chair with your hands out. You lifted the interrogator from the ground and flung him against the wall knocking him unconscious. Steve and Wanda ran down the ramp leading to the booth to stop you. Loki was already in the room.

“Y/N! Stop this! Listen to my voice. You are safe.” You lifted your hand again slamming the door behind him. The two way mirror shattered. All of the shards of glass were pointed at Loki.

“Y/N! Please. I’m not going to hurt you.” Wanda was behind him now and tried to use her magic to subdue you. You whipped your head in her direction and pointed a shard at her throat.

“We will not be trifled with any longer.” Your voice was calm and steady. Behind it echoed many more voices. “We are the daughters of the moon. Daughters of Diana. Daughters of Hekate. You seek our power. You will receive it in abundance.”

“Enough!” Loki shouted, “I know you can hear me, Y/N. Fight this.”

“Loki?” you whimpered.

“Yes, pet. I’m here. Please. You’re safe now.” The glass dropped to the floor and so did you.

He was at your side at once brushing your hair from your eyes whispering your name. Begging you to wake up. His eyes were wide. He looked at Wanda pleading, “What have I done? What have I done?”

“Bruce! Someone get Bruce! We need help.” Bruce rushed in and instructed Loki to put you on a gurney. They rushed you into a room and started examining you. He and Tony hooked you up to electrodes to measure your brain waves and monitor your heart.

“Tony I can’t find anything medically that would be causing her to be unconscious. But look at her brain waves.” There were several lines spiking indicating that there was more than one brain essentially.

“I’ll call Strange.” Tony went pale when he looked at the monitor.

Loki and Wanda refused to leave your bedside. Steve paced the hall outside of your room. Fury walked in looking actually worried for once. “How is she?” he asked Nat. Before she could answer Bucky was lunging for him. Fury regarded him unfazed. “You wanna take your hands off me, Sergeant?” Steve pulled him away.

“Come on, Buck.”

“She didn’t deserve this.” He walked away to get some air.

“Is this how you do it? You pit them against each other under the guise of ‘security’ so you can break them down? Are you so afraid of someone else having power...” Fury raised his voice to interrupt Steve.

“Yes, Captain Rogers, I am. I am especially afraid of the one in the bed who is basically a nuclear bomb. I’m afraid of her teaming up with the other one to become a formidable force. If a demigod joins them they become unstoppable. It is my job to squash that before Loki gets the bright idea to take over the world again. Those two can be more powerful than the entire Chitauri army of they wanted to be.”

“She’s just a kid, Nick.”

“A kid with a lot of power.”

“Yep. And we just pissed her off.”

Wanda was asleep on the couch in your room. Thor patted Loki on the shoulder, “Brother, why don’t you rest? I’ll stand watch for a while.” Loki didn’t take his attention away from you.

“I’m not leaving her. What if she wakes up and I’m not here?”

“Loki? What’s come over you? I’ve never seen you worry over someone like this.”

A smile ghosted over his face, “Only over you, Brother.”

“Is this love or guilt?”

“Perhaps a little of both. No matter. She has feelings for the soldier. And, when she wakes up and realizes what I’ve done, I’m sure she’ll hate me.”

Thor’s brow furrowed, “Tell her the truth. She’ll understand your position.”

“I should have crushed their skulls. That should have been my position. I’ve hurt her. Who can blame her if she never wants to see me again?”

Thor returned to the common room where the rest of the team was sitting.

“Any change?” Sam asked

“No. I’ve never seen Loki like this.”

“Like what? Remorseful?” added Tony

“This is on all of us, Tony. We should have put a stop to it. We watched it happen. Given Loki’s criminal status with SHIELD he wasn’t really left with a choice. He did what he thought was right.” Steve scolded

They all looked up when they heard faint footsteps. “Were you defending me, Captain?” he didn’t give Steve a chance answer, “The wizard’s here.”

They all went into your room where Doctor Stephen Strange was ruminating over your chart. Dr. Cho was already there talking to him. “Dr. Banner join us won’t you?” Strange adjusted hung your films from your MRI. “What were the results of her CT?”

“Her brain was functioning at an extreme rate mostly around the hippocampus.”

“That’s her memory center” Bruce explained to Wanda who was still sitting vigil by your bedside.

“Well team medically, with the exception of the heightened brain activity, she’s healthy. Magically speaking, it looks like the spell she cast had a built in safety feature.”

“Can you fix her?”

“I can. I need everyone out. Not you.” He pointed at Wanda, “You stay.”

“I’m not leaving.” Loki said sternly

“You’ve done enough. Bye.” He waved his hand and Loki went flying through a portal into the next room. Strange waved his hand, “Let’s have some privacy. This should keep out the riff raff.”

“Can you fix her?” Wanda was hopeful

“Oh yeah” he waved a hand over you “She’s good.”

“That easy?”

“Yes. You know you could have done this?”

“I wouldn’t know how or where to even begin.”

“Yes, you do. I know you know that you are more powerful even than me. You are so afraid of disappointing those fools out there. You shouldn’t be.”

“They are my family.”

“Your family fears you so you think you have to muzzle yourself. You don’t.”

You opened your eyes and sucked in your breath, “Where am I?!”

“There she is. Y/N it’s very nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Stephen Strange. You gave them quite the scare.”

“Loki! Is he ok?”

“He’s fine. He’s the one who put you here.”

“I need to see him.” You started pulling out wires and ripping off electrodes.

“Honey let me go find him. You need to stay in bed.” Wanda was trying to stop you.

“The newest Avenger. How does that feel?”

“I’m not an Avenger. I’m helping out. I work for SHIELD.”

“Either way you’re backing the wrong team. I know what the Kale’s did to your coven. If you ever want real answers here’s where you find me.” He handed you a card with an address on it embossed in gold. He winked at you and excused himself when Loki appeared in the doorway.

“Wizard” “Sabrina” Loki cocked an eyebrow but Strange kept walking.

“Darling. Are you ok? I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” You knew of only one other time that Loki looked this wrecked and that’s when his mother was killed. Poor guy.

“You didn’t. I mean not really. The spell has a fail safe. Only meant to scare my attacker.” He sighed with relief.

“Are you very angry with me?”

“No. I couldn’t hear your thoughts but I could feel you. I knew you were there.”

“So you knew I was hurting you.”

You put your hands on the sides of his face, “I thought you were trying to protect me.” You stared at each other for a moment. His heart was racing. He placed his hands over yours. You brushed an errant hair out of his eyes. “Darling I...”

Steve burst in the room wrapping you in a hug, “I’m so sorry I left you. Are you ok? Are you hurt?” Loki stood watching what was unfolding. You looked back at him. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. He left the room to give you and Steve a minute.

“Steve. Shhh. I’m ok. I swear.” For reasons neither of you could explain he grabbed your face and crashed his lips into yours. Your eyes went wide then you acquiesced. Your tongue massaged his. He leaned his weight into you. When he broke the kiss he said quietly, “I’m staying with you tonight.”

“You really don’t need to. Loki will be there. I’m ok. I promise. I’m much stronger than I look.”

“I would feel better:”

LOKI

Loki sat alone on the big fluffy couch in the common room. He toyed with the frayed edge of a throw pillow. It was silent but he could hear your heartbeat quicken. Your breath catching in your chest. Your racing thoughts. He felt your butterflies when Steve came into the room. You liked Steve. He supposed the captain was a decent enough guy. That didn’t mean he had to like him.

For a moment when you were touching his face he felt something. He wasn’t sure if the feelings were yours or his. It felt deeper than just a crush. The way you looked at him. Almost like you were committing his face to memory. Your eyes studied him. For a moment he felt seen.

Thor sat next to him and pulled him in for a very firm embrace. “Get off of me you oaf”

“You’re staying with me tonight. It’ll be fun. We’ll bunk together just like when we were children.”

“Do you still snore?”

“That depends. Do you still talk in your sleep.”

“I wasn’t talking in my sleep. I was whispering spells to silence you.”

Thor smiled, “I hope you remember them.”

#steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #mcu x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki x you #loki x reader #loki of asgard #steve Rogers slow burn #marvel witches #marvel #slow burn #mcu witches #witchyvibes #witchythings #wanda maximov #bucky reader insert

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itbe-jess · 3 years

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Masklophobia: Chapter 7

October 18th, 1992. Just one day after the Tam Studios massacre took place. There still remain some footage.

All the corpses were cut into pieces, and they crammed those pieces into every fridge in the studio. The ones that couldn't fit were cooked well done. Nobody alive in the studio but the Paradise Critters, and King Karl himself. He was the only human alive. Just like in the show. Since that feast yesterday, all the Critters did after that was sleep off their meals. They did that again after dinner. And after that day, they passed out during breakfast as well. They seem to sleep long as cats.

All Karl did was play around the studio. He never did eat one bite of anything. Don't know why. The man seems to be pulling strong without food. Every often, he would go over to the security room, possibly to check if there's any survivors hiding in the studio. Then, that day, some uninvited guests dropped by at Tam. Some tough looking guys with black uniforms, guns, and vests burst in through the front entrance. It was the police squad. Even though all the phones and electronics were destroyed, one crew member managed to contact the authorities on their final living hours. Better late than never.

There was nobody in sight. The squad hollered for the perpetrator to come out. With the blood stains visible, that was proof that a murder did take place in the studio. Suddenly, the door slammed shut. One of the officers attempted to open the door, by violently yanking the handle. Other officers joined in, hoping a little more strength will force the door open. Suddenly, they stopped as a disturbance carried through the studios. The ambience of children's music.

🎵Heyyyyyyyyy!

Wouldn't you like to go far away?

To a wonderful place, you say?

Where all your friends are here everyday!

Karl's Paradise is where to stay!🎵

The squad decided to worry about the door problem later, and went their seperate ways to find the homicide. Clutching their guns, they prepared themselves for whatever was awaiting them. When the survivor called the police, they didn't have time to mention how many were there, or what the homicides looked like.

The first cop entered the central appartatus room, where a sleepy Junior was taking a nap against the racks, with a ball besides him. Pointing his gun, the cop gave the mammoth a rude awakening. Junior opened his eyes, and began to pick himself up. He also picked up his ball. The cop demanded the Critter to take off his mask and put his hands up. Junior bounced his ball, not feeling intimidated by the officer. The cop continued to yell as the mammoth gave a sly look in his eyes.

Catching the man off guard, he quickly threw the ball at his face, then rammed him down to the floor. After that, Junior stepped on top of the cop's gut, and merrily hopped on him. He was as heavy as three full grown men put together. The choking cop tried shooting at the Critter, but the bullets didn't effect him a bit. For that, Junior then started to hop all over him, putting in his full weight, and practically crushing the man beneath him.

A pair of two came into the sound station, looking around carefully with ease, then pressed back to back in case somebody was with them. All of a sudden, LabRat, who was in the recording booth, stood up and waved to the cops. As both spotted the oversized rodent, they held their guns up, and demanded him to step out. LabRat taunted the officers, by communicating in body language that he wanted them to come in the booth.

With caution, they took their weapons, and entered the booth. Both stood at a different side of LabRat. Feeling surrounded, or at least that's what he wanted them to think, the rat put his hands on his head. Just as they were about to slip on the cuffs, LabRat grasped them by the necks, bringing them into a choking hold. But choking them wasn't his procedure to finishing them off. He gave the boys a lift, and impaled their heads into the hanging microphones. Then, he decided to do something for fun. He exited the booth, closed the door, turned on the panel mic, set the volume up high, and screamed until both of their heads exploded.

The fourth cop decided to check both of the restrooms. First he went into the men's room. It took about three minutes. Nothing much goes on in that footage. All you can hear were the cop's shouting, and the stall doors slamming open. When he came out, he planned to check the ladies' room next, while joking that he may face "a killer with tits." Just as he pushed the door open, Fins' head stuck out, and she took half of the man into her mouth. Then she violently jerked off his torso, like a rabid dog.

At the crew lounge, Yum-Yum was just making herself comfortable, watching TV with a glass of orange juice. The fifth cop barged in, aiming her gun towards Yum-Yum. The annoyed bear casually placed her juice down, and stood. Before asking her to put her hands up, the cop ordered her to "take off that damn mask first." Yum-Yum hesitated for a moment, before deciding to give the officer what she asked for. The bear firmly grabbed hold of her own head, while sinking her claws in, then hauled upwards.

She hauled with all her might, and pulled the head from her neck. Blood oozed, and the meaty particles split. When the head was fully off, she dropped it at her feet. The vertebrae was still attached. The disturbed and traumatized cop slowly approached the "mask" to examine it better. When she saw there were only muscles and tissues instead of a human head inside, her heart raced. Yum-Yum seized the opportunity by grabbing the cop, and enclosed her in her arms. As soon as Yum-Yum regained her sight, from her new head growing in, she morbidly tore the cop in half with her "bear" hands.

The sixth cop walked into the Director's office, where he found Van Goose taking a nap on the couch. Unlike the other cops, instead of rudely awakening the Critter, the officer decided to pull off the mask while she were asleep. He gave a few gentle tugs, but he had no luck. He put his gun away, and decided to use both hands. The cop pulled a little harder, but the mask still wouldn't come off. He tugged harder and harder, then eventually went into a struggle, but he still couldn't get the mask off.

You know what happened next? Van Goose woke up. Letting out an angry snarl, she threw the cop over her shoulder, and into the wall with a hard bump. She then picked up the cop, and scrapped his head against the wall like a crayon. She drew herself a simple little self-portrait, but was careful not to use up most of the body.

The seventh cop was patrolling the second floor, cautiously checking in all directions. When suddenly, he began to hear clattering sounds in the air ventilation. He stood in one place, and waited for whatever the hell was crawling around to come out. The vent cover hit the floor, and the cop turned his head to the sound. Mama Longlegs popped out of the vent, from the waist up, and let out a shriek. Startled, he shot her five times, then LongLegs plopped down dead like a rag doll.

Thinking he had killed her, he kneeled down to see if he could remove the mask. He shouldn't have gotten close, because then Mama LongLegs snapped out of playing dead, and bit the man on the cheek. When the cop tried to pull away, she flayed the skin off of the man's face using her teeth. The cop wanted to shoot her again, but she grabbed him by the arm, and ripped it from its socket. The cop, still alive, collapsed while moaning in pain. Mama LongLegs' crawled over to the man on eights, then helped herself to a raw snack by sinking her teeth into his chest.

The eighth cop rushed into the dressing room, where a door was left wide open. The room looked empty, but she wasn't too sure of it. In the mirror, she caught Barkstone coming out of hiding, from behind the door. The giant dog slowly walked up to the cop, while holding a beer bottle. She told him to halt, but he ignored her orders. She tried shooting at him, but the Critter was immune to the bullets. Just as she was about to call for backup, Barkstone grabbed for her hand, crushing both it and the radio she was holding. He broke the bottle over her head, and stabbed the glass into her face.

In the main stage area, Saxxo was busy drawing attention to himself, playing the saxophone and letting his music lure in the rest of the police squad, which were only three left. When he had them right where he wanted them, he put his sax away and accepted arrest, pressing both of his paws together as a gesture to take the cuffs. The female cop handcuffed him from the front, while the two males watched. Little did they know, this was all part of a diversion. Slouch descended from the power grids on a rope, and he happened to be holding an ax.

The orangutan didn't hesitate to slash the two cops across the torsos, then chopped them into pieces. When the female cop took notice, Saxxo immediately placed his cuffed hands around her neck, and choked her by the chain link. He not only choked her, but he pulled back and let the chain cut its way through, decapitating her. When all was said and done, Saxxo gestured Slouch to help remove his bloody cuffs. Except instead of slashing the chain, Slouch chopped off Saxxo's hands. But the tiger didn't seem to mind, for he could grow a new set of hands.

Nobody is matched for the Paradise Critters. No matter who you are, they will get you dead. You cannot escape Tam Studios, aka Karl's Paradise. All you can do is run, hide, and be sure to stay in a locked room with no vent. There must be one way to stop them, but that yet remains a secret.

A few days later, more cops were sent to Tam Studios. And after they haven't came out like the first squad, a SWAT team had persued Tam. They weren't heard from either. Tired of facing so many disappearances of authorities, the homicide case was then dismissed, and nobody was aware of what happened behind the doors of Tam Studios. Not one soul alive could make it out to report any news.

#The Banana Splits Movie #Remake #horror #Masklophobia #blood tw #gore tw #This chapter was in excuse to have cops die 😈

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

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Found Family

When your real family seems to ignore you, Chris becomes a father figure.

“Oh, and did you hear?” Your sister said over the phone. You gritted your teeth, sighing as you handed your ID to security to let you onto the stage.

“What?” You asked dryly, looking around to see if anyone was already there. Luckily, you were one of the first people ready for the scene. You walked over to your chair and sat down, watching a camera guy start to get ready.

“I got into Harvard. And Yale! And I think NYU is sending acceptances out next week, so I expect that too. Dad’s so proud of me, he’s taking me this weekend to see…” You rolled your eyes at your sister. She was such a goody two-shoes. It was always about her. Her academic achievements, her cheerleading achievements, her debate team, her everything. Ever since your mom who had been your best friend, died a few years ago, your father just… ignored you. He only paid attention to your sister. He took you to auditions, sure, but there was no guarantee you would ever have a ride home. Home, even. The man barely came to visit you when you were shooting, ever, unless he happened to be near the studio. Your solution was simple. Your dad hated you and blamed you for everything.

“That’s great,” you said as you watched the director and one of the producers start walking onto the stage, along with the lead prop head.

“Dad said he’s never been prouder of anybody in his life.” You could tell she was excited, but that was the wrong thing to say. “How’s that acting thing going?”

“Well, I actually have a scene with Chris coming up, so…”

“Oh, he’s hot.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“You are such a loser, you can’t even agree with me on that. I have to go start pyramid, so…”

“Fine by me.” You hung up the phone and put it under your thigh. If you weren’t wearing makeup, you probably would’ve started crying. It wasn’t a particularly harsh exchange like some of them were. It wasn’t even really harsh at all. But it meant she had more bragging rights. Dad had one more excuse not to call you and tell you all about what she was doing. It was starting to get to you that maybe your sister was right. Maybe you should be doing something other than what you’d wanted to do since you were a kid. Acting was the only thing you knew you could do well. Your sister, though? She could do anything. And you were starting to think that maybe Dad liked her more because she was better at everything.

“Hey!” Chris said as he walked over to where you were sitting. His chair was right next to yours. “You wanna get lunch after this scene? Next scene’s going to take them a couple hours so we don’t have to rush. We can go to that ramen place you like.” You nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” Chris cocked his head like his dog would. He could tell something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what. You two were close. Very close. But he was more like a father or a brother than anything else. He was like the father you dearly wished you had. He was the one who would drop you back by the apartment at the end of the day. He was the one who took you to get your tonsils out when you had tonsillitis three months in a row at the beginning of shooting.

“Something wrong?” He asked curiously. “You’re quieter than usual. We can have a few extra minutes if you wanna talk.” He sipped at his coffee. He was in a good mood. The last thing you wanted to do was bring him down. And he was right. Usually you were talking all the time, too much, even. But you were stunned into silence. You were thinking.

“I’m fine,” you just responded.

“For someone who’s such a great actor, you’re a terrible liar.” You sighed, getting ready to tell him that you talked to your sister again, but the red light came over the stage and it was time to work the scene. It was the scene in the movie where Chris’s character finally recognized your character as his daughter, because of course it was.

You got it done in five takes. A record, because usually you and Chris would laugh too much or someone would break and send the other into a giggling fit. Chris knew something was wrong, though, bless him, and he did the scene. And as soon as the director called cut on the final shot they needed, you were done for the next couple of hours. You set your phone for your call time, and forgetting all about lunch, you started walking back to your trailer.

“Hey! Kid!” Chris called halfway across the trailer-filled parking lot. You had your hand on the handle of your trailer, but you didn’t take it. You turned back to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied.

“Again. Terrible liar. Go get changed and meet back here in ten minutes.” You nodded, and after texting your assigned costume assistant that your things would be in your trailer, you changed into real-person clothes and stripped off the fake dirt on your face.

Chris already had his car parked outside of your trailer when you emerged, and he was listening to some bad 80’s music. You couldn’t help but smile a little bit. He was such an idiot. But he understood how much you loved bad 80’s music.

“Why are you so quiet today?” He asked as you sat down in his car and buckled your seatbelt, because God help you if you got in an accident and your dad had to come. “Come on. Tell Dr. Evans and he’ll buy you ice cream. And beat up the boy making you sad.”

“It’s not Ashton,” you said. Ashton was a guy you’d been talking to who was shooting another movie across the lot.

“If you say so.” Chris just drove to your favorite restaurant in the area, thankful that he had enough time to break you down. You didn’t even look at your phone, which was even weirder to him. It kept lighting up with texts from your family group chat where your dad and sister were talking about another acceptance she’d got. How many schools did this girl apply to, you thought? And why did that seem to reflect on you so badly?

Come to think of it, why did it say anything about you in the first place? It shouldn’t. She was your sister, she was a polar opposite of you. Her college acceptances didn’t have anything to do with the lack of yours. It was you, you decided. Just you. Something was wrong with you, to the core. Why else would your father act the way he was acting? Why would he act like you were making the worst decisions of your life every time you spoke to him? Why was he so angry that he didn’t even want any of the money you offered to send to him even though he and your sister were very comfortable. Why didn’t he care one single bit when you texted him the other day that you’d gotten into a summer acting program?

“Hey. Kid,” Chris elbowed you as you sat on the bench outside the restaurant, where he’d put your names in five minutes ago. You hadn’t said a word since you got in the car, and that was what worried him. Sometimes you were just quiet, yeah, but this was a different kind of quiet. Your eyes were blank. It was like you were in another world that he’d never seen you go into before. It occurred to you that he’d never even seen you cry before unless it was for a scene.

“What?” You asked. He had stood up in the few seconds it took you to answer.

“Are you high?” You shook your head. “Then what is going on with you? You’re being super quiet. You’re never quiet. You didn’t even yell at me for my bad parking job. Don’t just tell me nothing’s wrong because something’s wrong.” You followed the waiter to the table and took a seat, watching Chris as he ordered water for the both of you. He was always saying you looked dehydrated.

“I talked to my sister earlier,” you finally said. “She keeps getting into all of these schools and doing all of these things and bragging about them.”

“That’s what siblings do,” Chris responded. “I’m sure she’s not trying to.” You wanted to tell him that no, she was for sure trying to, but maybe you were just being paranoid. Maybe he was right and it was just a sibling rivalry thing.

“Yeah,” you muttered. You took a sip of water and gave him a weak smile.

“And that’s her problem if she doesn’t see how talented you are. You don’t need to go to college or be on debate teams or any of that bullshit.” The waiter came back and took your orders, but you were still thinking.

“It’s not just her.” Chris looked up at you, blinking a few times.

“What?”

“It’s my dad, too,” you sighed, putting your head on your elbows. You were trying to hide the cloud of tears that was trying to fall, but you knew you weren’t doing well. “What’s wrong with me, Chris? Why am I not good enough for either of them?”

“Honey,” Chris responded. You hated that you were crying in public about something so trivial, but you were. Chris, without hesitation, called the waiter over. “I’m sorry, can we possibly get those to go?”

“No problem, just a minute,” the waiter said. He obviously saw you crying. Chris stood up from where he was sitting and slid into the booth beside you, gripping onto your shoulders.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he assured you. “Why would you even think, for a second, that something is?” His hand started rubbing up and down your back before you could start truly blubbering. You did your best to breathe deeply. It felt good to let everything out, but you hated that it was a public place and that you were unloading everything on Chris. He didn’t deserve that.

“It feels like there is. Neither of them care, at all. My dad doesn’t even call me anymore. All he cares about is my sister. I told him I landed that role for the movie in the fall and all he told me was that I was making a bad decision. I told him I got into that program over summer and he just said I should be going to fucking cheerleading camp like my sister. He doesn’t care, neither of them do.”

“Yeah?” Chris started. You looked up at him. His eyes were red-rimmed like he was doing his best not to cry, too. “I had no idea, kid. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just… I feel like something’s wrong with me. Because ever since my mom died, it’s like my sister is the only thing that matters.” The food was set in front of you in to-go boxes, but Chris wasn’t leaving just yet. He slapped his phone on the table, open to Apple Pay, and watched the waiter take it away.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he repeated softly, pulling your hair into a ponytail at the back of your head. “You are gorgeous. And talented. And smart. And funny. And anyone that can’t see that, even if they’re family, is blind and stupid and they’re not worth your time.”

“It’s not like I can just cut them off,” you said.

“No. But you can distance yourself.” He hesitated before saying something else. “Why don’t you stay with me for awhile, okay? When shooting finishes up, you can stay with me until you can find your own place back home.”

“I can’t just de-rail your life because you feel bad for me.”

“I don’t feel bad for you. I care about you. A lot. And if I can help you with this, I want to. Because clearly your family isn’t.” You took in a deep breath and sniffled, nodding as he rubbed your shoulders.

“Thank you.” He smiled at your teary eyes and ruffled your hair in his hands.

“Alright. Let’s go back to the trailer and we can start apartment hunting. I have some very specific requirements.” You rolled your eyes and sniffled again, standing up to help him carry the food back to the car.

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he quipped as he took his phone from the waiter and fished his car keys out of his pocket.

A/N: I hope the person who requested this enjoys ❤️

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine

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