Tumgik
#and people are like “nope. plastic dolls please”
silver-horse · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
lol
59 notes · View notes
lightofraye · 2 months
Text
I decided to torture myself.
I don't know why.
Her voice is just awful. Dear Danneel, please get vocal lessons. Bring it down an octave or something because fucking yikes.
A follower sent me this and asked if I had seen it. I had not. It was, after all, a fan compilation of various interviews of Danneel, videos, whatever. And...
How the hell do people stan her?
She's vapid, uneducated. Ugh.
Anyway... points of interest.
Throughout the whole video: WHO CARES ABOUT THE DAMNED HAIR TWIRLING?!
0:54: During a photo shoot I guess at a premier. ZERO chemistry between Danneel and Jensen. Jensen is smiling politely and wanting to get away as fast as possible.
1:00: Yes Danneel. We can see that it's a hallway. GOD. How insipid. Even Jensen was like "OMG, what?"
1:54: Uh. Danneel, honey, why would anyone else play Dean Winchester besides Jensen Ackles? He did not like that one bit.
4:14: Uh huh. If Jensen had witnessed some of it, why was nothing done then? I'm super-dubious about this claim. I really am. And how could he have witnessed it when he was likely filming Supernatural during that? Hmm.
5:55: Yeahhh.... had the family, but the steady career? Hahaha. Nope.
6:35: Danneel, honey, neither do you. If you expect me to believe you do any of the cleaning, I'm gonna call you a liar. You do nothing. Also, Jensen looked annoyed at the idea of so many bathrooms.
6:43: You are also not nice. I came across some old rumors about you, honey. You were awful, vicious, and the reason you got fired from One Tree Hill was because of your *whispers* drug habits.
6:55: WHAT IS SHE WEARING?!
7:35: The ever-changing face, proving that she lies about her plastic surgery. (Supposedly she claims she doesn't that many and I died laughing.) Also: "beautiful men with big egos"--bullshit, honey. You're the one who has the massive ego with zero to back it up. Plus she sounds as insincere as fuck.
8:22: "It's good. I love him. He's great." Insincere.
8:33: I'm cringing on Jensen's behalf. "Where the magic happens". And bypassed Jensen's wishes and insisted it not be cut--and guess what? It wasn't cut. As if they've shared a bed in years.
8:44: Ohhhh my gods. The brewery interview. Pay attention to Jensen's face as the interviewer talks about working together, living together--Jensen's done. And actually says "yes" to being tired of being with her. Danneel looked pissed. Ah honey...
11:43: Uh huh. The ring, huh? Gold digger.
12:04: The so-called flight anxiety. Whatever, Danneel. If you're able to fly without supposed help or therapy...? (No, getting drunk is not legitimate help.) You fly a lot, more than most "average" people. You take your kids. You go to conventions. You supposedly saw your husband a lot when he was filming Supernatural. You flew for your tidbits of roles. Then you're fine.
14:34: "Jensen's first time being in here." For the kitchen? Oh please! As if he never went in for a snack, beer, or anything. SHUT UP, DANNEEL.
14:38: "Nothing can happen to me, not for me, but for my kids." Excuse me, I need to shake some sense into her. Babe, honey, you do jackshit for your kids. They'll be fine.
Also that's not how panic attacks work. You literally aren't able to talk yourself out of it. Please stop.
15:36: "We're having another baby." That look your husband gave you? A deserved death glare because you knew he wouldn't like it. Stop emotionally torturing him, god!
16:41: I love that Jensen called her out on her lie about her name. I don't think she liked that either.
17:24: Ah. The insult about him smelling bad. God, can't she ever say anything nice about him? See the way he took a deep breath, braced himself? That's not a normal reaction to a "joke".
17:43: How can he not know women put perfume on their wrists and elsewhere? Translation: he never sees Danneel do it. Because they don't share a bedroom after all.
18:11: HOW CAN HE NOT KNOW THAT CHAIR MOVES?! Did the man not live there at all?!
19:34: Oh god. The doll. Honestly, Jensen should dump it. Stop torturing him with it! It's not funny!
19:53: Couldn't let him have the closet joy, huh? Bitch.
20:18: No. You're not nice. Nope. Not at all.
God. My eardrums. I'm crying now.
Danneel, babe, vocal coach. Please!
youtube
16 notes · View notes
rezzyromance · 3 years
Note
Imagine reader having a bad day. She just rants and raves and doesn’t shut the hell up.
Karl is busy trying to work and reader is starting to get on his nerves because he can’t concentrate (while finding her rants low-key cute).
In a moment of madness + frustration, he pushes back his chair, storms over to her and kisses her. He’ll say he did it to shut you up but the really he’s been wanting to do that for a long time.
Need me a guy like this.
You had been ranting for who knows how long. Today, it felt like everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong. And, sadly, the only person who was available for you to vent to was Karl. Beloved Karl. It wasn't often he let you interrupt his work so you can talk, let alone complain about things he found rather silly. He felt bad for you due to the frustrated state you were in which is why he agreed in the first place. Now, he's barely gotten any work done as you both sat in his office space.
"And then, this lady at the village looked at me weird. She just kept staring and she scrunched her nose at me as if she was looking at something revolting!", you had been pacing back in forth during the whole rant. Karl was trying to draw out some blueprints, but seeing you pace around back and forth in the corner of his eye kept interrupting. It wasn't as distracting as your words though. You were so flustered and aggravated. While he was growing aggravated as well, he began to find your anger cute.
"And guess what? When I went to the Duke today, HE DIDN'T HAVE WHAT I WAS LOOKING FOR! CAN YOU BEIEVE IT?", you threw your arms up in disbelief. "Nope.", he responds with a sigh as he made a tiny adjustment to his barely progressed work. "I was looking for some specific berries. Luckily, the book Donna gave me about the local wildlife said I could find them on bushes. I found the bushes, but there weren't any berries! They're out of season!", you continued to complain, not even checking to see if he was a actively listening. You just kept on until it was all finally of your chest.
"And after that, I tried to fix that chair with the broken leg in the bedroom, and I broke it more! How did I even do that!?', your pacing began to pick up speed. "No clue.", he says bluntly. The pencil he was holding in his hand was about to snap under the pressure he was gripping it with. His other hand was place on his head, propping it up as he rested his elbow on his desk with a growing pissed expression.
"And one of the lycans had a bad cut, so I tried to give it some bandages and the damn thing nearly bit my hand off! I thought you trained those things!", the image of you trying to help an injured lycan and failing drifted around in his head. It was almost as funny as it was distracting. He was fighting a smile that was creeping up on his face. While he found your efforts to help the creature cute, he was still frustrated that his time was seemingly being wasted.
He sat up straight and took a good hard look at the blueprint in front of him. The first picture was barely sketched out. It was covered in eraser shavings from the amount of times he messed up. And, upon further inspection, he could see where he was writing a description for something and accidentally began to write down things that you were saying as he struggled to multitask. The sight of this made his brow furrow and his jaw clench. All of his efforts for his work for the past unknown amount of time were useless.
"And Donna invited me to another tea party, but I can't deal with Angie. I mean I know Donna loves her, but that piece of plastic is fucking nuts and it makes me so uncomfortable.", you continued to rant about the doll. He didn't know if he wanted to correct you and tell you that she's porcelain and not plastic. All he knew is how much he missed the silence of his office now. Although, there was something about you running around in circles while wildly throwing your hands up in frustrated fits of rage that he found adorable.
Finally, he knew he had enough. He knew he had to do something if he wanted to finish his work. He sighed and put down the pencil he was using to draw out some blueprints. He looks over, preparing to tell you to shut up, but he couldn't help but get distracted. You were talking with your hands. And, you kept running your hands through your hair, making messier and messier as your pointless ranting went on and on.
He didn't even notice he was staring until you made eye contact with him and stopped. 'Are you listening to me?" "Yes.", he lies. And with that, your pacing continues as you spout more and more bullshit. His feelings confused him. You were keeping him from being productive and nothing you were upset about had any real long term meaning, but you just looked so cute when you're all riled up. His work laid on his desk, practically screaming to be finished.
"Oh right...", he turned back to his work in hopes to finish it. "And Alcina said I need to think more about what I wear because I care more about how comfortable my clothes are compared to how they look. Isn't that just bitchy?" "Mhm." The mentioning of her caused his eyes to roll. "Please just stop please just stop please just stop please just stop", repeated through his head as he wished for peace and quiet. He accidentally broke his pencil in his tense and clutched hands.
Finally, he had had enough. He threw the broken pencil pieces to the ground and stood up, shoving his chair to the side before marching over towards you. You didn't even notice until his fingers were tangled in your hair, turning your face towards his. He then pulls you into a kiss that lasts a couple of seconds. Enough for him to release some of his energy in a not so aggressive way while also getting you to be quiet for a bit.
You were speechless when he pulled away and he was thankful. "What was that for?', you ask as you smile and grab him by the coat sleeve, tugging on it. He pulls it out of your grasp, but not too aggressively. "Just wanted to shut you up for a goddamn second." "Oh yeah? Well what if I keep talking?" A mischievous smile spreads on your face as he looks back at you with a growing frustrated expression, but you could spot a small smile curling upwards from the corners of his mouth. "Nope.", he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you out the door. Once you're out the door, he puts you down. "Don't interrupt my works again. And, for the love of god, stop caring so much about what other people think. " You open your mouth to object to his decision on kicking you out, but he kisses you again. This time, you can feel him smile into it. He truly just wanted to kiss you again. "Now, leave me alone for a second. When I'm finished, you can tell me about all the other pointless bullshit from your day." And with that, he closes the door. While having you away is less distracting, he still can't help but think of you as he works, the taste of you still lingering on his lips. "Better get this done fast."
160 notes · View notes
ariparri · 3 years
Text
This drawing was inspired by a story my friend cursedautumn wrote for me as her part of our usual story for art trade.
It's been so long since I've drawn something in this style, I was scared I was going to give up half way through the entire thing. But nope, I was quite ambitious and pulled through 9 hours to finish this piece!
Tumblr media
Look at that! It's absolutely beautiful 😭 I can stare at this and be so damn proud of it all day!
Speaking of the story, you can read it here under the cut. Flowers may be my absolute favorite from autumn's stories, but this was just too cute. I just adore the father/daughter dynamic Veruca and Elroy have.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His Princess
"Alrighty, I'm leaving." Wilhelmina kissed Elroy on the cheek and took the bag. “I'll be there in the evening, don't wait for me early. I left a list of products that Vera needs to be fed. Are you sure you can handle it?"
"You underestimate me," Elroy growled, jokingly offended. "Veruca will be fine, I'm a fully capable father, Wil. Go and have a good rest, you'll see when you come back, the house will shine, and the child will have the tenth dream." Wilhelmina smiled dryly and rolled her eyes. "You're the same as always. Well, I'm off."
With that, she opened the door and went out. Elroy watched her go for a while until she disappeared behind the fence, then closed the door and took a deep breath. Elroy McQuaid was a father of two children, but, frankly, he had already forgotten what it was like to stay all day with a small child. Coby had grown up a long time ago, now he was at Hogwarts (where, by the way, he recently received an indignant letter from Minerva McGonagall about his son's behavior), and little Veruca did not want to sit still and quickly came up with entertainment for herself: she rolled away from her father, turning over from her back to her stomach, then, on the contrary, crawled up to him and began pulling his hair or stubble. Elroy didn't mind, but he couldn't let his daughter roll around on the floor all day and pinch him! He had to think of something to do. So he picked up Veruca in his arms and spoke,  "What should we do? We're going to play with toys, aren't we, baby?"
"Yes!" Veruca said glibly. She didn't know how to speak yet, but she already knew words like "yes", "not", "ma", "pa" and "Co-i" (that is, Coby). Elroy was infinitely proud of his daughter; Wilhelmina took it much more calmly and even laughed at his constant delight. Elroy was slightly offended: "How can you, Wil? She talks great for her age!", but there were no big quarrels because of this, and he understood that his wife showed love for her daughter in a slightly different way.
As soon as she was in her room, Veruca clung tightly to a wooden box filled to the brim with toys. There were dolls, plush toys, a plastic tea set, with which the baby sometimes gently beat her older brother, several suits with bat wings and many other means of entertainment. Elroy watched in silence as she turned over the wooden box, and sighed to himself: later he would have to take a long and painstaking time to clean up the mess that his daughter had made. But he obediently waited until all the contents of the box were on the floor, and smiled, "Come on, Vera, choose what we will play."
Veruca thought for a while and a soft bat colored so bright it was slowly eating out Elroy's eyes. This bat was given to the McQuaid family by friends a few years ago, and at first Coby played with it, and then it was taken away from him by his younger sister. Veruca took it out at every opportunity and forced the first family member she met to entertain her, holding her in their hands and "butting" the girl with a toy. Elroy didn't have much choice right now. He asked, "Are we going to play this?"
"Yes!" Veruca nodded. She had the same light green eyes as Elroy, like clear, transparent water.
"All right," he agreed. "I'll butt you. Come on…" Suddenly, he quickly grabbed the toy and began to gently poke his daughter in the face. Veruca burst into a ringing childish laugh, trying to grab a bat, and randomly waved her plump hands in the air. Elroy poked the toy first on her cheek, then in her stomach, then in her shoulder, and she laughed and made futile attempts to outwit dad and catch her pet. At that moment, Veruca strangely reminded Elroy of a young Wilhelmina, just as cheerful, laughing happily, not yet so strict and upset by the behavior of her growing son. Actually, Veruca was much more like her father, but there was already something about her that made her obviously the daughter of Wilhelmina McQuaid.
After playing with the bat, Veruca lost interest in it and took up a book of fairy tales written by the bard Beadle. Of course, it was still too early for her to read them, but the bright pictures on the glossy paper attracted the eye, and the baby ran her finger along the pages with genuine interest, looking questioningly at Elroy, as if asking what was depicted here. Most of all, she was interested in pictures of beautiful queens, princesses and sorceresses, women with long hair, dressed in dresses, robes and heavy jewelry. The girl especially liked the drawing of Morgan Le Fay, a tall red-haired woman with light green eyes, in a white dress. Veruca poked at it with her finger and hooted. 
"This, baby, is Morgan Le Fay. She was a very outstanding sorceress, healer and fortune-teller. The sorcerers bewitched people, Vera, they are also wizards, it's just that their magic was different. And Morgan was both a sorceress and a witch. It's complicated, isn't it?" Elroy explained, to which Veruca frowned and turned away, indicating that she was not interested in this topic. She always did this when she did not understand what was being said to her, but she did not want to show her ignorance — it hurts her pride so much!
And even though Veruca was still a very little girl, she had pride. This pleased Elroy: if self-confidence and healthy pride are inherent in a person from childhood, nothing will knock them out of there. So let his daughter be proud. It was better to have pride than not to have it, his sister had once told him, and Elroy completely agreed with her.
Suddenly, his daughter turned over on her stomach and, starting to turn over slowly, rolled in the opposite direction from him. Elroy was so surprised that he didn't even understand what was happening, and he stared at Veruсa with his mouth open for a few seconds, and then he realized that the typical willfulness of the McQuaids had awakened in her, and she decided to try to move herself. Attempts to "escape" have occurred before, but Wilhelmina, with the air of a connoisseur, assured that this is normal and there is no need to interfere with the child's self-development.
"Veruca!" Elroy called out to his daughter.
"Ah!" she answered him and giggled, once again turning over on her stomach. "Vera," the man said more quietly. "Where are you going?" Veruca smiled with an almost toothless mouth and giggled louder. Elroy sighed loudly and got to his feet to put the mischievous girl back in her place.
Suddenly, Veruca reached out with a tiny hand and grabbed the leg of a chair. She tensed, slightly lifting the body and pulling her legs under her.
And then she began to get up — in the literal sense, to get to her feet, holding tightly to the leg of the chair, as if for a handrail, and finally straightened up and stood up, swaying slightly. Elroy froze in mute amazement, joy and disbelief, watching his little daughter, his princess, stand on her feet for the first time, and was afraid to even sigh and break the great moment. This feeling was even brighter than what he had experienced when Coby first got on his feet, much, much brighter, although Elroy did not want to admit it to himself.
It seems that Veruca was afraid of her own independence and the next second fell on the carpet and began to cry. Elroy was at his daughter's side in the blink of an eye and hastily picked her up in his arms, saying affectionately:
"Don't cry, Vera, don't cry, my princess, everything will be fine, you're a good girl. Look, you got up for the first time today, can you imagine?" and he kissed the top of her head, stroking her back. Veruca's crying wasn't caused by pain or anything worse, it's just that she hardly expected such sharp physical progress from herself.
So he patiently calmed her down until the girl stopped crying and wearily buried her face in her father's shirt.
"Do you want to sleep?" Elroy asked gently. "Let's go sit outside. It started raining there, we'll swing in the chair, listen to the weather…"
They did just that. Elroy went out onto the terrace. There he sat down in a wicker rocking chair with Veruca in his arms and was quiet; a summer downpour was really rustling on the green street and in the garden. The storm swelled over the McQuaid estate, rallying in the sky in a dense purple wall, ready to crack and burst into lightning. But while there were no loud noises, Elroy held the sleeping Veruca, wrapped in a plump purple blanket with a bat's face, in his arms and looked at the blooming garden. There was an unusual calmness in his soul, although, in general, there was no cause for alarm; nevertheless, such satisfaction in his soul had not been for a long time-maybe because he was the father of two children, the eldest of whom was now supplying his school with problems, and the youngest was still very small and helpless, like a porcelain doll. They had to look after both of them, and it was difficult for him and Wilhelmina. Very difficult.
Elroy kissed the top of Veruca's head as she dozed off. No, he was grateful to his wife, Providence, and himself a million times for his daughter, because since his youth his dream was to have a daughter, his little princess, just like from fairy tales. As a child, he saw how carefully his father treats his sister, and just dreamed of doing the same.
And now he had Veruca.
His little girl.
His princess.
Elroy wrapped his daughter more tightly in the blanket and began to doze a little himself. The storm did not break out with thunder and lightning, only the rain began to rustle more loudly, and somewhere on the horizon a rainbow began to appear, as if the sky was watching the father and daughter and letting a bright ray through the summer rainy haze.
The rainbow was flaring up. Elroy and Veruca were sleeping peacefully.
25 notes · View notes
infallicide · 3 years
Text
Dirty Laundry
“But what? But you have so you can't atone? But you have so you deserve nothing?” Sero asks, but Denki knows better than to answer. “In here, right now, you're Denki Kaminari, I'm Hanta Sero, and neither of us have ever made a mistake.” “You'll hate me when you do know.” “I don't care,” Sero pulls him closer, “I don't hate you now.”
NSFW -  Minors dni please!  Relationship: Denki Kaminari x Hanta Sero Words: 3,595 Tags: trans! Denki, vague mentions of cheating, light angst, self deprecation. AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31501247
Tonight wasn't supposed to go this way. Denki sips and grimaces before letting whatever vile liquid is allowed to pass for beer dribble back into the cliché red cup. Or is he grimacing because Shinsou is right there? He's happy to convince himself that it's the beer. It's the music. It's the lights. It's anything but the gaping, unhealing wound in his chest at the sight of Shinsou. He looks like he always does; bored. His hoodie is too big, his jeans, tattered, and his boots scuffed. He's leaning against a wall, either blissfully unaware or willfully ignorant of Denki, and Denki doesn't want to consider which it could be. He wonders now if he should have tried harder. His skinny jeans and sneakers are plain enough, but he's not even sure this big white t-shirt is his.
Before Shinsou can catch him, he weaves through the crowd and finds the closest group of friends he can, though on the way, he puts his solo cup on a random counter. The piss taste still in his mouth is enough to remind him not to drink tonight. By his friends, he can ignore everything. He can lean on Jirou, laugh when they do, maybe even actually talk to them. But at every glance around, Shinsou is in his line of sight, and every time, that wound in his chest wrenches open again, and months of memories, of pining, of “goodnights” will rush back. It's not Shinsou's fault; he didn't know he was flirting. At least, Denki thinks he doesn't know. In an effort to seem absorbed in the conversation, and not key them into his faraway mind, Denki stares at Midoriya as he recites some funny work story. He's absorbed enough that he doesn't notice a body beside him, not until he leans back against the wall as he laughs and it's too late.
“Hey.”
Denki swallows a stone.
“Hey,” he replies with a shaky smile.
“Can we...” Shinsou juts his head towards the kitchen. Denki's feet know better than his head that he'll follow this man anywhere. So he does. The kitchen is empty, bright, and best of all, quieter.
Shinsou leans against one counter, hands in his hoodie pocket, one ankle crossed over the other. Denki stands opposite, though without anything for fidgeting, he clings to the counter until his knuckles turn white.
“Are we good?” Shinsou asks, airy and light and perfectly fine.
“Yeah,” Denki replies, breathless. Had he forgotten how to breathe because of this?
“You've just been sorta quiet,” Shinsou shrugs, “I thought maybe I'd done something.”
What, was leading me on not enough?
“No way, man,” Denki smiles bright as a plastic doll, “we're cool.”
And Shinsou believes him.
For a minute, Denki wonders if he could confess. Or if maybe he could just forget it all and they could go back to “goodnights”. But that minute is ruined in a way only Midoriya can manage.
“Hey, guys!” he bobs into the room like he's just run a marathon.
His freckled cheeks are pink, and Denki would say something back, but Midoriya is looking at Shinsou in that way, that same way Denki looks at Shinsou. They share a small smile, one that tells him all he needs to know. When Midoriya takes Shinsou's hand, he really tries to be angry, but in the tiny look Midoriya sends his way, there's only a pleading not to do what Denki did with the last love of Midoriya's life. The two share quiet words with their noses touching and Denki's discomfort is surely obvious. So he does all he can do.
“Gotta pee.”
And he leaves. He runs. Because he's a coward now and he was a coward then and he was a coward then. He takes a shuddering breath and makes for the stairs. Up here, the music still bangs through his feet, but it's not as loud somehow. He glances at the choice of doors and opens one. Bedroom. The next; an office. The third, another bedroom, but- Laughter. Bright bubbling beautiful laughter that makes him freeze. A girl he sort of knows, Mina, and a shock of red hair he definitely knows are on the bed, all with folded legs and a black haired boy he doesn't know. Mina waves, but Kirishima's smile falters when he looks over. Nausea sinks into the pit of his stomach and he waves back at Mina before he steps back.
“Sorry, I was looking for the bathroom,” he squeaks, but Mina stands.
“Nope, me first!” and she runs past him, giggling and smelling of flowers.
The silence in her wake makes Denki's stomach churn further. Kirishima's clenched jaw doesn't help.
“I don't think I know you,” the black haired boy says, seemingly oblivious to the tension.
“M'Denki Kaminari,” he rushes out and the boy lounges onto one elbow
“Sero,” he says simply, but he studies Denki. And Denki knows because he can feel the honey slow dribble of his gaze on every part of him.
He tries to return it, but Denki's never been one for slow and sensual. Sero, however, oozes the idea. He's still laid on his elbow, and the front of his already low buttoned shirt came further apart with the movement. His pants are black and high waisted enough to show off his ankles. In short; he looks good. Denki's throat dries as he takes in the look, and Sero...Sero loves it. His head falls back a little, and his already wide smile widens somehow.
“I'm gonna go get a drink,” Kirishima's voice is devoid of emotion, and the shoulder check as he leaves says everything he does.
As he rubs his shoulder, nausea comes back.
“He's not a fan?” Sero's voice calls him out of his spiral.
“Heh, not really,” Denki laughs as if he doesn't know Sero would hate him too.
“C'mere,” Sero pats the bed beside him, “I don't bite.”
Denki sits on the edge of the bed, his side to Sero, and Sero regards him with another curious look.
“You've got secrets, huh?”
“I mean,” Denki snorts a laugh, a more genuine one, “doesn't everyone?”
Sero shrugs.
“Probably.”
“Don't you?”
“Probably,” he says again and shuffles himself so his chin is in his palm and his side is pressed into the bed fully, “does it matter?”
The bile of his own secret's rise in Denki's throat and he swallows it.
“If they're bad, maybe they shouldn't be secrets,” Denki swallows again, “if we're bad, if we've done awful things, shouldn't we warn people?”
“Are you going to do it again?”
“No.”
“You seem certain you won't make the same mistake,” Sero's head tilts, as if he knows something, as if he knows more about Denki.
“Once was enough,” Denki's voice is quiet.
“Here, you haven't made any,” Sero is brave. He trails his fingertips up Denki's arm like he's done it a million times.
“But-”
“But what? But you have so you can't atone? But you have so you deserve nothing?” Sero asks, but Denki knows better than to answer.
“In here, right now, you're Denki Kaminari, I'm Hanta Sero, and neither of us have ever made a mistake.”
“You'll hate me when you do know.”
“I don't care,” Sero pulls him closer, “I don't hate you now.”
“You will,” Denki gasps as his legs tangle with Sero's.
“Then let me enjoy you while I don't,” Sero kisses his neck first in soft lines that tickle. Each one steals Denki's breath a little more until he lets out a tiny moan. And that little moan reminds him of all the reasons he shouldn't be here.
He shouldn't be leaning on Sero. He shouldn't be enjoying himself. He shouldn't be-
“I can hear your brain over thinking it,” Sero mumbles before he presses another kiss to Denki's jaw.
“I shouldn't...”
“Is there someone waiting for you?” the words make Denki shudder.
“No,” it's one word but it shakes like a speech.
Sero pushes him but follows the motion, now hovering over Denki. The length of his hair is more obvious here as it hangs down past his cheeks.
“Then we're not breaking any rules,” Sero leans in close, maneuvers his hips so they're slotted between Denki's, and with his forearms against the bed at either side of Denki's head, brushes the blonde back from his forehead, “be mine for a while.”
Sero's lips are soft on his, and Denki's hands card through those silky tresses. It's innocent, really, but the bite in Sero's teeth when he nips at Denki's bottom lip, the slightest grip of his hair, the smallest roll of his hips, it turns it to something else, something lewd. And Denki loses himself in it. For the first time in 6 months, he's not thinking about anything; not his faults, his mistakes, his treachery. But the world around him is not so forgiving.
“Is Kaminari still-”
Kirishima's words die off, and the pair look toward him. His eyebrow raises and he snorts.
“Never takes long, does it?” the bite behind his words is venomous.
“Do you need him for something?” Sero asks, still chest to chest with Denki.
“No, I need to talk to you.”
Denki knows what that means.
“Wait for me outside,” Sero whispers before he pulls away and helps Denki sit up. He shuffles out the door, avoids Kirishima's gaze, and tries to swallow the self hatred when he hears Sero say: “So, what's up?”
That's enough. He walks through the house with his head down, prays for peace, but the moment of reprieve from his self-made torture was too much in the world's eyes.
“The fuck are you doing here?” the snarl in Bakugou's voice makes Denki jump but he just keeps walking, desperate to be away from the noise, the anger, the hate of it all. But Bakugou is only getting started.
“I asked you a question, dunceface,” Bakugou's arm lands across his vision and Denki ducks.
“What, you're still being a pussy about it? Should have fuckin' known,” Bakugou jolts back and suddenly is surrounded by friends who laugh, not at Bakugou, but at Denki. He should hold his tongue, he knows he should.
“It took two, Bakugou.”
Their laughter dies and Denki walks away before he can suffer the consequences of his loud mouth. Somewhere behind him, he hears the shuffle of Bakugou's boots and the hushed words of one of his friends; “he's not worth it.”
No. He's not. The night air is cold enough to sting his throat. It brings tears to his eyes, but they're cast aside with a wipe of his sleeve. He doesn't deserve to cry. He could go now. He could go to his own place, ignore Sero's offer, and instead, cry in bed. It would be better than this constant, sickening reminder.
“Ready?”
Sero's voice breaks him out of his pity party.
“For what?”
“We're going to my place, it's like five minutes away,” Sero shrugs, “we don't have to do anything you don't want to, and I promise, I'll get you a cab home. But I still want you to be mine for a little while longer.”
*
Sero's home is bright and very...green. The walls are pale and the decor natural and it suits him. Sero guides him through with a hand on his lower back, and it's only as the door opens that Denki realises where Sero is leading him.
“You can say “no” any time,” Sero says with a small kiss to Denki's shoulder. In the same breath, he lays on the low bed and holds a hand out to Denki to join him. Denki's mind races with what Kirishima could have admitted on his behalf as he takes Sero's hand.
Would he really be inviting him to bed if he knew? Sero pulls him down until they're tangled and rolls so they're side by side.
“Denki,” Sero breathes out, like he's discovered the name of a mystery song, a beautiful one that plagued him.
He kisses Denki again, softer this time, but without the background noise of the houseparty, his thoughts are so much harder to ignore. At the same time, Sero's curious hands are just as hard to ignore. The rough pads of his fingers tickle the skin of Denki's stomach and he laughs.
“Oh?” Sero smiles, “is that a real laugh?”
His fingers creep higher and now, the tickles are intentional. They shriek and laugh and wiggle around the bed together, until Denki pleads “no more” with tears on his cheeks. They fall beside each other, panting, and for the second time today, Denki's mind is empty. It's pleasant. With his eyes still on the ceiling, he reaches out, shy, as if he hadn't already tasted Sero's lips. He finds Sero's hand and from the corner of his eye, he sees the smile on Sero's face. He fixes his stare on the ceiling again and wills himself to stay here, like this, where it's safe and quiet. The bed moves beside him and Sero's chest presses to his shoulder. He sneaks an arm under Denki's head as his other hand lands on Denki's stomach. The mood shifts; the playfulness turns sultry and thick. Sero's hands are so busy; one toys with Denki's hair, the other dances over his stomach, well past his belly button. His lips press to Denki's ear and he nips at the lobe before he kisses his way down, a little lower, until their lips meet at the same moment his hand cups Denki's crotch. Out of shock and pleasure, Denki gasps, and his hips buck up against Sero's hand, but their kiss steals every sound. It takes a moment for Denki to realise how hard he's clinging to Sero's shirt, hard enough that he's stretching the fabric to the point of bumping it, but Sero says nothing, only traces circles that make Denki moan. Sero pulls back the barest inch.
“You're just the prettiest thing,” he murmurs as his fingers card through Denki's messy hair, “is that okay to say?”
Denki nods, terrified that his words have been stolen in favour of moans and pleas. Sero kisses his cheek as his fingertips press just a little harder and pure pleasure blossoms through Denki's abdomen. Sero kisses where he can, tugs his hair, bites marks that'll bloom by morning, and with every pass of his fingers, steals the breath right from him. He whines when Sero's touch leaves but he's soothed with a quiet “shh, it's just for a second,” as Sero undoes his jeans. With some wiggling and pushing, they're just low enough for Sero's middle finger to slip between Denki's folds.
“Wow,” he whispers – more to himself than to Denki – as he pulls his finger away. A string of glittering slick connects Sero's finger to Denki and if it didn't make Denki's mouth water, he'd die of embarrassment.
“Wow,” he mirrors instead.
Sero's nose against his cheek draws his attention and he turns back toward him. The kiss that meets him is harsh and sloppy as two fingers slip into Denki's cunt.
“M'gonna eat you out until you cry sometime,” Sero growls against his lips between kisses.
Sometime.
Sero is enjoying him. Sero doesn't hate him. And every vile emotion that was quelled by kisses crashes back into Denki's gut.
“Ser-”
“Hanta,” he says, breathless, “call me Hanta.”
“Hanta, you...didn't Kirishima tell you?”
Hanta's fingers slip from him and he stands from the bed. But he's not leaving; instead he pulls Denki's shoes off and tugs his jeans and underwear off the rest of the way.
“He didn't tell me anything because I didn't want to know,” he undoes his own jeans and pushes them down, slow enough that it aches.
“I don't care about what you've done,” he steps from the pool of his trousers and nudges Denki's legs wider with his knee, “I only care about what we do.”
Denki watches him with doe eyes, his lungs empty. Until Hanta captures him in another soft kiss.
“Everyone makes mistakes, Denki,” the tip of him presses to Denki's entrance.
“But here, you're a saint,” he presses in, eyes on Denki's.
“And fully intend to worship you,” his elbows rest at either side of Denki's head, they cage him but it's not claustrophobic. It's safe. It's warm and comfortable, and this moment – truly alone and utterly unhindered – is one Denki wants to repeat over and over, until it's all he knows, until his sins are forgotten and his mind is free of them. If Hanta, kind, wonderful, beautiful Hanta, can forgive him, surely he can forgive himself too? The steady rhythm of Hanta's hips and every praise he litters on Denki's skin are enough to make his mind go blank again. And instead of fighting it to confess, he lets his head roll back against the bed and he lets Hanta take him apart, piece by piece, thrust by thrust, until he knows nothing but pleasure. His moans are soft, cutesy almost, and Hanta tells him so.
“You get gruffer during sex, you know,” Denki giggles.
“Oh yeah?” he thrusts hard and Denki's giggles turn to a squeak, “how?”
“You're all growls and all that, before you were just so...restful. Now you're gripping the bedsheets so hard, they'll never sit right again,” Denki giggles again, but it's not genuine. Hanta chuckles, but it's a dark sound, and the tip of his nose tickles the skin of Denki's jaw and along his throat.
“Maybe I should be gripping that pretty throat of yours instead, hmm?” he rumbles and Denki whines.
“You want marks, pretty boy?” Hanta nips at the skin of Denki's throat, and the way his back arches, Hanta takes as a 'yes'. He sucks and bites and savours every piece of skin he can find, though he offers Denki no chance to return it. His whines are louder now and his nails dig into Hanta's shoulders, no doubt leaving marks of their own.
“You're squeezing me so much,” Hanta trails to a groan, “y'gonna cum on me, sunshine? Hmm?”
Denki nods frantically – he just needs that tiny push. And Hanta plays his body as if he's returning to an old passion and grinds his hips in a way that rubs Denki's clit just right. His toes curl and his back arches and he moans Hanta's name as he keeps pressing just where Denki needs until Denki's words die and he gasps for breath behind his arm. At that, Hanta kisses him again.
“I want to see that again,” he pants against Denki's lips, “I want to see that a million times, but God fucking damnit, you looked so good, I can't wait, I'm so close.”
Pretty fingers lace through Hanta's hair as Denki pulls him into another kiss.
“Please, please, please,” he repeats between kisses, “wanna see you cum, you're so good, you're perfect, please.”
It turns to nonsense, and Denki can't believe that it's his incoherent begging that has Hanta pulling out just in time to splash cum up the stomach of Denki's t-shirt with a whine of his name.
They stare at the puddle for a moment before Hanta laughs a little.
“Sorry, got a bit lost in it all,” stands from the bed to move off to Denki's side, and Denki follows on shaking knees.
“S'okay,” the bliss of the moment has passed. Denki can feel the dread of the eventual 'here's your cab fare' in the best case scenario, but as he reaches for his jeans, Hanta's head tilts.
“Do you sleep with jeans on?” he looks like a confused pup.
“No?”
“Then why are you getting them?”
“T-to leave.”
“You think I don't have intentions of having you for breakfast too?” he grabs Denki's waist and pulls him until the stain of cum before his eyes, “only if you want, that is. I'll give you actual breakfast too!”
He sounds like he's bargaining and Denki laughs. Really, this time.
“I-I don't want to get in the way or assume,” he says quietly with a kiss to Hanta's hair.
“Then let me be clear,” Hanta stands and pulls Denki's shirt up as he does, edges it higher and higher until he's free of it and casts it across the room somewhere, “get into bed with me,” he takes off his own shirt and presses it into Denki's hands, “and in the morning, I'll either make you breakfast, or make you breakfast. Or both.”
He kisses Denki's nose and skirts around him before disappearing out the door. The shirt in his hands is still warm. Denki sheds his binder over to where his jeans should be, and when he slips on the shirt, it smells like Hanta. Not like any cologne or specific scent, just him. He turns in the mirror and admires the way it dances over his thighs. It isn't until Hanta's hands land on his hips that he's taken from the moment.
“Looks good on you,” Hanta kisses the side of his neck and their eyes meet in the mirror.
The gaze is a hungry one first, but in those eyes, Denki can see understanding, kindness, and forgiveness. Hanta pulls him into bed, wraps an arm around him, and kisses the back of his neck for good measure. Hanta would know his secrets. But Denki doesn't doubt that he'll understand them. In the quiet snores, Denki finds himself comfortable and at peace for the first time in a while. All he can do is pray that it lasts.
14 notes · View notes
asphalt-cocktail · 5 years
Text
For the Sake of Content- Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Live Music is Boring
Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.
A/N: Hi lil cuties! Back at it again with a new chapter for FSC. I know I said a new chapter was coming tomorrow, but I wanted to post it tonight because I can. Anyways, it’s starting to pick up from here on out! I’m hoping to build a lot of sexual tension over the next few chapters for what I have planned. Like always I really appreciate all of your lovely comments, likes, and reblogs! Seeing your interest is what helps motivate me to write! Also if you would like to be tagged please send me an ask, the comments get lost and then I feel bad when i cant find everyone :/
Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader
Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, masturbation, sexual tension, some friendly banter between roger and reader, really corny dirty talk, it makes sense when you read it, not proof read, short chapter but don’t worry it gets better.
Word Count: 1.9k
18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.
Tumblr media
Roger sat in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal, dressed only in a tasseled vest and leather straight legged pants while you shuffled out in your old worn college sweatshirt and a pair of sleep shorts, “Are those my Golden Grahams?” You asked, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen.
Roger glanced up at you, his under eyes were always slightly droopy and puffy, a stark contrast to his surprisingly wide blue eyes that glared up at you, “Yeah, what about it.” He answered confidently.
“Stop eating my shit, I barely have enough money to support myself let alone you.” You said grabbing the box from the counter and shoving it into the cupboard that held your food.
Roger shrugged, loudly slurping up his spoonful of milk, “Maybe you should get a job then.” He leaned back in his chair “How do you even afford rent anyways?”
You froze, your back still facing Roger. For the last few weeks you had made a decent sum of money camming and selling photos, not that you would tell Roger of all people. “It’s none of your business.” You reminded him while you walked over and pulled out your leftovers from your dinner with Freddie and popped them into the microwave.
“How did you even meet Fred,” He asked suspicious that his friend, Freddie, would dare to have other friends.
You turned towards Roger and leaned against the counter, “College,” you answered pointedly, “We had a digital design class together and he liked the shirt I was wearing.” You answered, you might still have that shirt buried in your closet somewhere, “Where did you meet him?”
Roger continued eating your cereal, “We used to live together, went to different universities, but he needed a roommate.” You had been to Freddie’s home during college, but never met Roger. It was a nice place, but always a cluttered mess, “Now we run the shop and play together.” That’s right, Roger helped sell clothes at the second-hand store.
“What do you play? The guitar?” You scoffed momentarily, “God, I hope you can play something other than Wonderwall.” You joked.
A small smile graced Roger’s features, if you hadn’t had been looking you wouldn’t have seen it, “No, I’m a drummer.” He gave you a confident smirk, the kind that would have caused a girl’s knees to go weak, “But I do play guitar,” He quickly followed with.
You nodded your head, “Ah, a drummer,” You said pulling your food out from the microwave and stabbed your fork into the left-over chicken breast.
“You’ve never been to any of our shows, have you?” Roger pressed.
You shrugged your shoulders, “Nope,” you answered, popping the ‘p’ at the end of your short statement.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, I don’t really like bar concerts I guess.”
Roger scoffed and made a skeptic face, “Where do you see concerts then? The back room of a coffee shop? Some of the best concerts I’ve been to have been in the back of shoddy bars.” He sounded defensive now.
“I just don’t get the point of concerts, I can listen to music on vinyl or Spotify so why should I go to a concert!” You answered back, just as defensive.
“I’m going to call Fred and tell him that you think our music is too boring to see live.” He said reaching for his phone.
You felt your blood run cold, Christ Fred would have your head on a stick if he heard you said that; which you didn’t. You lurched forward, gripping Roger’s wrist, “No!” You shouted, “Don’t call, Fred.” You struggled against his grip
Roger used his free hand to jab his finger into your side, causing you to squeal with laughter and jerk against him “Let go!” He couldn’t hide his own laughter.
You clutched his hand against your chest with your back to him “Promise you won’t tell Fred?” You said, not aware that your shorts had been pulled taut against you and hugged your skin while the crease between your ass and thigh threatened to pop from underneath them.
Roger swallowed thickly, maintaining eye contact with your upper thighs, “Promise you’ll come to our show tonight?” He asked, his voice sounded husky and sent an involuntary shudder through your body.
“Fine, I promise.” You said frowning and feeling your stomach clench at his tone. You quickly released his hand and turned to face him.
Roger’s pouty lips hung slightly ajar and his face was lightly dusted pink, you assumed it was from the struggle prior. “Promise.” He agreed, “But I’m going to tell Fred you’re going.” You groaned knowing Fred would want to doll you up for the occasion.
Thankfully you still had several hours before their 10pm show, so with plenty of time to kill you found yourself seated in front of your computer starting your live stream for the day.
You were dressed in a blue baby doll lingerie that had black lace trim, it was simple and not too revealing; just what you liked. Your colored lights lit up your room and the backdrop you had hung up disguised it for the sake of safety and the camera was perfectly positioned to only show your chest on down. By now you were regular professional.
The red light of your camera blinked and your computer screen loaded before you finally went live. Your regulars were alerted of your stream and soon people began to trickle in and soon your room was filled with a generous number of people. The tips flowed as you interacted with your regulars,
Tank3939 tipped you 50 tokens!
You smiled a sickeningly sweet smile “Thank you tank, you know these tips get me nice and wet.” You sensually said, rubbing your breasts and pushing them together. Tank was a regular, often generously tipping you, “If we reach 1,000 tokens in the next hour, I’ll let you watch me fuck myself on this fat cock.” You said holding up a decently sized dildo, you tried to ignore how much the fake sensuality in your tone caused you to cringe. The way you had to act in order to score tips was perhaps the most annoying part of the gig.
Bigboy64: shit baby how much I got to tip u to do that to me
Tank3939: beautiful sugar
Mojo_Man tipped you 1,000 tokens!
You stopped, doing a double take on at the little red mark on the screen, “Th… thank you, Mojo. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.” You gave the camera a wink, “Always nice to see that men know what women want.” You said leaning back and spreading your legs, quickly swiping your fingers through your wet folds and letting out a breathy moan.
The tip bell continued to ring, and your moans threatened to get louder before you stopped, a sultry laugh left your lips “I got to be careful guys, my roommate is in the room next door… wouldn’t want him to hear me,” You gave a naughty giggle, “Or would I?”
Mojo_Man tipped you 500 tokens!
Bigboy64: u ever fuck ur roommate?
Bigboy64: Id fuck u if u were mine
You couldn’t help but grin at the comment, “No, I couldn’t do it, don’t think he likes me very much.” You answered honestly. “Thank you again Mojo, I guess I better get started now that you’ve got me all warmed up. I’ll be right back.” You said, blocking the screen so you could get set up, suctioning the dildo onto the hardwood floor beneath you. You turned around, exposing your ass to the camera and twisted to take the little post-it-note off the camera, “Remember, that little bell makes my tight little pussy wet.” You said once your screen came back into focus.
You sighed, lowering yourself onto the thick cock and sat for a moment allowing it to generously stretch your walls. God, even this fake dick filled you better than Harrison ever could. You leaned forward, sticking your ass out and arching your back and rotated your hips around the dildo, whimpering as you did so.
You readjusted your legs, spreading wider and leaning further forward. Your cheeks spread and put your pussy on display for all 523 people in your live stream. You moaned, pistoning your hips on the plastic cock. Your wet pussy easily glided up and down while your hands reached forward, gripping onto your bed in front of you for balance. Your hips burned while pornographic moans left your lips and your ass bounced with your thrusts. The tip bell rang, one after another, ensuring that you would be able to not only pay rent, but also buy another box of golden grahams for yourself.
Once you finished you gave your signing of speech, “Thank you so much my lovelies!” You said slightly out of breath, “I had so much fun with you all tonight especially my biggest donor for the might Mojo_Man,” you moaned his username out and for good measure kneaded your breasts in your hand before you continued, “Remember to subscribe to my OnlyFans and Snapchat for more content on days I don’t stream! I’ll see you again next Sin Saturday!”
You leaned back against your bed after you sighed off and looked through your stats for the night, 2500 tokens tipped by this Mojo_man, wow he must have really liked your work. You scoffed a bit, poor sap, you thought before you dressed yourself in normal clothes and left to shower and clean yourself off.
A knock on the door alerted you from your shower, your peaceful alone time, “What!” You shouted over the white noise the running water provided.
Without warning, the door opened,“Fred’s going to be over with an outfit for you!” It was Roger.
You rolled your eyes and slicked your hair back and out of your face “Couldn’t you tell me once I got out?” You frowned.
The door quickly shut, “No!” You could hear Roger’s voice growing more distant as he walked further away from the door and sure enough within minutes of your shower ending Freddie was knocking at your bedroom door and soon letting himself in.
“Fred,” You whined, “I look like a slut in this!” You shouted.
“I know!” He countered, “It’s my favorite look on you, you know that!” He straightened out the fabric of your shirt and skirt he had picked out for you.
You looked in the mirror, feeling stupid, “It’s just a bar, Fred. I don’t know why I can’t just go in some jeans!” you protested looking in the mirror.
You could see Roger’s reflection in the mirror, he once again changed his outfit. This time he was wearing an open floral print button down and tight black pants with flared legs, “I think it’s a nice change from that old jumper.” Roger always had to add his own two cents in.
You rolled your eyes, “Why’d you change again? Was your ‘lounge around’ tassel vest not sufficient enough for the show?”
Roger looked at you through narrow eyes, “’Course not, unlike you I care how people see me.”
“All right you two, that’s enough. We have to go over to John’s for the pregame.”
“Wait-” you protested, “You didn’t tell me I was going to meet everyone.”
Freddie scoffed at you, “Of course you have to, you’re a regular Queen groupie now!”
You groaned as Freddie wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you through the apartment, “Why can’t I be a roadie? I can lift stuff.”
“Not dressed like this!” Fred countered, “Enough, come on now we have to get dinner. It’s the most important meal before we go out!”
You tugged the leather miniskirt Freddie had dressed you in down and frowned, reminding yourself that you were only doing this to get a break from your mundane routine.
115 notes · View notes
simsexpo · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Valentina Vargas for @madebycoffee‘s Gianarette!
Blonde. Tiny. Pink.
Three words that describe Valentina Vargas, a girl who almost defies description.
To get started, Val is not smart. She gets by because she’s pretty and has virtually no impulse control, but don’t expect to have an engaging, intellectual conversation with her. I mean, the girl called Gian “John” in her audition tape. It’s safe to say that she doesn’t even fully understand the show she’s auditioning for.
This, however, is not to say that she doesn’t have her moments. She’s unrelentingly peppy, loves children, and will do pretty much anything for attention. She has big dreams, and a bigger heart.
Is she smart? Nope.
Can she hold a cohesive conversation for more than twenty minutes? Typically not.
Does she make for amazing TV? 
Hell yeah she does!
Read more about Val below the cut!
Val is, in a word, an enigma. Not in the sense that she’s trying to conceal a mysterious past, a la Irina, but because she is never not living in the moment, and has few quiet moments of self-reflection. 
She had an unremarkable childhood just outside Del Sol Valley, and left home as soon as she turned 18. She dropped off the face of the earth for a few years, but eventually resurfaced when she was 21 and landed a small role in a local car dealership commercial. And then seven more.
Since, she’s become somewhat of a local ‘celebrity’ in DSV.
She’s always had dreams of becoming famous -- she worships celebrities, derives her life force from reality television, and uploads to her Simstagram religiously. With nearly 200k followers, clearly something’s working for her.
Val is the absolute essence of the color pink; she’s upbeat, naive, a romantic, and generally adores anything cutesy. No matter how masculine or handsome the guy, all she’ll want to do is... squish his cheeks. Sometimes, her extremely extroverted personality can border on irritating, so she’s best taken in small doses -- and remember, she means well.
To a spectator, there is likely no one more entertaining than Val. She’s endearingly-dumb, full of non-sequiturs and botched pronunciations, and a train of thought more convoluted than a maze in a cornfield. One time, outside of a DSV nightclub, a random homeless man was actually able to convince her that he was Adrian Stewart, and she posted a selfie with him; much to the ironic delight of her followers.
She might look like a Barbie doll, but she isn’t plastic. She cares a great deal about the people in her life, like her mother, father, and equally-as-nutty best friend Olivia. She wants to be on the Gianarette because she became positively enamored with Gian during his stint on Big Brother -- and she demands to squish his cheeks!
Some reviews of Val:
Her voice is, like, really high. It got to be a bit much at points. Dog whistle kinda thing.
- ex-boyfriend Connor
OMG, Val is, like, the smartest person I know. Seriously. I remember when we went on vacation to Isla Paradiso and I got bitten by a GIANT spider on the beach. Well, who do you think peed on my bite and saved my life? Love her!
- best friend Olivia
Dumb as rocks, but a fantastic lay.
- talent agent Bryce
Val’s traits are Childish, Cheerful, and Self-Absorbed.
PS: don’t look her up on any X-rated websites, please...
26 notes · View notes
themurphyzone · 5 years
Text
104 Words for 104 Days: Cook
Enjoy!
The roof of Vanessa’s bedroom was ripped off by her overzealous robot brother at six on a Saturday morning. Saturdays were meant for sleeping in, but apparently her dad’s habit of waking up at some forsaken hour to scheme had rubbed off on Norm.
“WAKEY WAKEY CHOCOLATE CAKEY!” Norm cheered, in the closest imitation to cheering that his voice chip would ever produce. “GOOD MORNING, SIS!”
Vanessa rolled over, burying her face into a pillow. If she ignored him, he’d go away once he got bored.
“WHAT A BEAUTIFUL DAY TO MAKE BREAKFAST IN BED FOR OUR DAD!”
She seriously needed to invest in noise-cancelling earmuffs.
“Father’s Day was last month, Norm,” Vanessa mumbled into her pillow. “Or two months ago. I don’t know, the dates all blend in summer and I don’t feel like getting up to find a calendar.”
“WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE MY PUPPY DOG EYES? I’VE BEEN PRACTICING SO I CAN GET DAD TO PLAY CATCH WITH ME!”
Vanessa jolted awake. She’d seen Norm cry motor oil once while trying the puppy dog technique, and it was very messy business. She had no wish to repeat that incident ever again.
“I’m up!” she snapped, leaping out of bed and snatching her hairbrush off the nightstand. “Put the roof back, let me get dressed, don’t leak motor oil into my room, and maybe I’ll consider helping you!”
“I’LL BE OUTSIDE!” Norm chirped.
Vanessa buried her face into her hands. She wondered how Candace managed to survive being an older sister.
                                             O – O – O – O – O
By some stroke of luck, her mom was on an overnight camping trip for the weekend without wifi, saving Vanessa from any awkward explanations.
Apparently Norm had spent the past few days collecting ingredients, since the storage closet was almost bursting with flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder. The refrigerator was full of blueberries and butter.
She wasn’t sure if Heinz was aware that his living space had essentially been converted into a bakery, or if he was taking advantage of the ingredients and scheming to create a recipe for evil blueberry muffins.
“I DID ALL MY CALCULATIONS, AND THE PROJECTED TOTAL IS SIX HUNDRED BLUEBERRY MUFFINS,” Norm said. “PLEASE HELP ME BRING THESE INGREDIENTS TO THE KITCHEN SO WE CAN GET STARTED.”
He handed her a recipe page and chef’s hat, then gathered a shelf’s worth of items before heading to the kitchen. Sighing, Vanessa grabbed a bag of flour and trudged after him.
“Try not to burn down the kitchen,” Vanessa warned as she dumped a cupful of sugar into a mixing bowl. “Explosions are Dad’s thing.”
“DON’T WORRY, SIS. I’VE LEARNED FROM DAD’S MISTAKES. I KNOW EFFECTIVE WAYS TO BRING THE TRI-STATE AREA TO ITS KNEES AND HOW TO APOLOGIZE TO PLATYPI WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY CHEAT ON THEM WITH A PANDA BEAR.”
“I don’t consider that a strange sentence,” Vanessa admitted. “Should I be concerned?”
“NOPE.”
“You’re right. Probably not worth it.”
Norm’s fingers retracted, an assortment of measuring spoons replacing them. He dug the spoons into the baking powder, tossing it into the large bowl that was too high for Vanessa to reach. When he was finished, Vanessa grabbed her own spoon and added the baking powder to her own bowl, which was thankfully sized for a normal human.
“Hey, this thing’s jammed again! That’s it, I’m swearing vengeance against locks! And locksmiths to an extent too, but mostly the locking mechanisms themselves!”
A banging noise persisted in the background, and Vanessa was tempted to keep it there so she didn’t fall asleep on the spot.
“PLEASE IGNORE THAT. THAT WAS…MY…MIXTAPE. I FORGOT TO TURN IT OFF,” Norm said, intently stirring the contents of his bowl.
Vanessa rolled her eyes. “Sure, Dad swearing revenge against an oddly specific object just happens to be on your mixtape. You locked him in his room last night, didn’t you?”
“NOOO?” Norm replied, drawling the syllable for way too long.
“You’re a terrible liar, Norm,” Vanessa said, handing her finished bowl to Norm and starting over with another one. “Do you want me to teach you how to lie properly? You might not have to use that skill around Dad, but it’ll come in handy if you need to lie to anyone else.”
“ALRIGHT. I’LL JUST LIE TO PERRY THE PLATYPUS.”
“No. Do NOT lie to Perry the Platypus. He will give you his ‘I am so disappointed in you’ glare and look like one of those really sad animals on an ASPCA commercial at the same time. I was on the receiving end of that once after I lied about a date, and I felt like I kicked a million puppies for a week afterwards. It’s not a fun experience.”
It took forty minutes to get all the dry ingredients into the bowl and gather the remaining items, but Norm was surprisingly fun to talk to during the monotonous work. It wasn’t like talking with her mom, who was one of the few adults she respected, or her dad, who talked more than he listened. Perry gave good advice, but he could be a brick wall on occasion. She had to project an air of apathy and rebellion with her peer group, and she had to be careful about what she said around Monty.  
Norm was surprisingly insightful, and even witty with his own sarcastic quips. Despite admiring Heinz and wanting his approval, he wasn’t blind to the man’s flaws either. He just didn’t have the experience in handling him yet.
And Vanessa didn’t mind giving a few pointers.
“I know I complain a lot about Dad, but I care about him too,” Vanessa said. “He spent nearly a decade searching for a discontinued doll that I wanted as a kid. He didn’t have to. It was just one of those heavily marketed toys for the holiday season, and I was never upset about not getting it. I moved on after a while. But Dad never forgot that conversation. That’s the thing about him. He might be dense as a rock to what you actually want, but he’ll jump at any opportunity to give you what he thinks you want. Sometimes it works, sometimes it can be infuriating.”
Norm was silent for a while. Then he replaced his spoons with fingers and grabbed several boxes of blueberries from the fridge. “USING YOUR ADVICE, I THINK I’LL SIT HIM DOWN FOR A TALK AND EXPLAIN WHAT I WANT FROM HIM SO HE DOESN’T HAVE TO GUESS.”
“Best idea I’ve heard from you all day,” Vanessa said. “And if he tries to bail out, get Perry to sit on him.”
Norm laughed and moved onto the eggs, preparing to drop the entire carton into the mix.
“Norm, you’d better fold in the blueberries,” Vanessa said, quickly stopping him before anything inedible could ruin the mixture. She grabbed a clean bowl and expertly cracked several eggs, tossing the eggshells into a plastic bag. “I agree with Dad on how humans don’t eat eggshells or cartons.”
“YOU AGREE WITH DAD?”
“Yeah, I know. Put it on the record.”
Fifty eggs and seventy-five boxes of blueberries later, Norm’s built-in mixers made short work of the batter. Soon it was golden and thick, ready to be ladled into the muffin trays for baking. Still, Vanessa felt like they were missing something.
There was an unused container of sugar almost as long as her arm sitting on the counter. With such a large amount of ingredients, it was easy to miss one.
“Norm, we forgot about that sugar container,” Vanessa said.
Norm unscrewed the lid and dumped the white grains into the mix, giving it several quick stirs with his spoons. When he was finished, he started ladling the mix into each hole on the muffin tray. Vanessa hadn’t realized they owned so many muffin trays, or that the oven could hold eight at a time, or that Norm could transfer heat from his systems to make them bake faster.
Norm even understood basic safety and poured his undivided attention on the muffins, making sure none of them burned or set off the smoke detectors. It was good to know someone in the penthouse had enough sense to observe safe electrical practices.
Confident that Norm could take care of the kitchen by himself, Vanessa went to the bathroom to wash the sugar and eggs off her hands. When she came out, she found a very sheepish Perry handing a generous portion of his salary to her dad, who was nursing a black eye and bruised hand.
“-so next time, warn a guy before you knock down their door! The key was literally on the peg! You could’ve just grabbed that!” Heinz scolded, holding a bag of frozen peas to his eye. Then surprise overtook the scowl when he spotted Vanessa, and the toothy grin looked pretty ridiculous with half his face covered by frozen veggies. “Morning, Vanessa. What are you doing here? I thought you’d be sleeping in at Charlene’s like a normal teen.”
Vanessa shrugged. “Normal teens don’t have robot brothers who destroy roofs at six on a Saturday morning. Hey, Perry. I didn’t think you’d be here this early.”
Perry tilted his fedora to her.
“I sent a distress signal to OWCA since I was locked in my bedroom. And then a certain agent who I won’t name decided to knock my door off its hinges while I was leaning against it,” Heinz muttered. “In addition to teaching robots certain bad habits like breaking people’s homes. I told you he’d be influenced by your dynamic entrances!”
Offended, Perry pointed accusingly at Heinz.
“Well, it’s not my side he gets it from!”
Heinz stood up, discarding the frozen peas on the couch. Perry got into a fighting stance, but before either of them could start brawling, Norm strolled into the living room, cheerily humming the Muffin Man song as he set a tray of blueberry muffins on the coffee table.
“GOOD MORNING, DAD! GOOD MORNING, PERRY THE PLATYPUS!” Norm said. “VANESSA AND I MADE BLUEBERRY MUFFINS FOR YOUR ENJOYMENT!”
“I’m not done with you, Perry the Platypus,” Heinz said, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the tray. “But we’ll continue this after muffins.”
He nearly swallowed a blueberry muffin whole, then his eyes widened. He rushed to the kitchen, coughing and sputtering all the way as he hurriedly gulped down a glass of water.
Vanessa and Perry sampled a small piece, grimacing as the saltiness exploded across their tongues. And to think Heinz actually survived after eating a whole muffin.
“ANALYSIS SHOWED THAT THE LAST CONTAINER WAS SALT, NOT SUGAR,” Norm said, projecting a holographic image of a chemical formula.
“You couldn’t have said that before we used it?” Vanessa sighed.
“FORGIVE ME. MY OBSESSION WITH IMPRESSING DAD TENDS TO OVERTAKE MY RATIONAL THOUGHTS.”
“At least you’re self-aware,” Vanessa muttered.
“You made how many of these things?” Heinz asked incredulously, taking note of just how much flour, salt, batter, and leftover muffins coated his kitchen. “Alright, do you know how weird it is that this place is a mess and for once I’m not the culprit behind it? I’ve heard of role reversal, but that’s just weird.”
Vanessa agreed as she broke out the cleaning supplies. “So, clean up and blueberry muffins at the café?”
“DO I GET TO TRY COFFEE?”
“No!” Heinz said, pulling on a pair of gloves. “Your systems are for making good muffins and assisting me in evil, not for caffeine.”
Perry and Vanessa shared a knowing smile when Heinz wasn’t looking. It was progress.
“Dad, you can go scheme or something if you want,” Vanessa said. “Norm and I can clean. It’s our mess.”
Heinz shrugged, continuing to scrub at a stubborn crack where flour had settled. “I know, but you and Norm and Perry the Platypus are always helping me clean my messes. I want to return the favor.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Vanessa smiled.
“Anytime, sweetie.”  
Courtesy of Perry, a new photo was displayed on the mantle within a week. Heinz was covered head to toe in flour after a mishap with a leftover bag, Norm was rebooting after his squirrel escaped from its wheel and wreaked further havoc, and Vanessa was trying to do damage control around the sink area.
It was the best photo she’d ever seen of her family.
24 notes · View notes
miraclesnail · 5 years
Text
Writer’s Month Day 10: Dark AU
Fandom: PJO
Summary: So alternate dimensions exist and guess what! Turns out in one of those dimensions, I am on Kronos’s side. Who woulda guess? 
(Sorry, this is my self-indulgent fic for Kronos-side!Travis and Connor. I actually have a lot more ideas for this and once I’m done with the published wip I have on ao3, I’ll turn this into a multi-chapter! I used this prompt to kick start the first chapter which is always the hardest for me :P)
Content Warning: graphic violence 
Words: 3.7k
When you think of Travis Stoll, what comes to mind?
Powerful? Important? A main character in the grand scheme of things?
Hell no. 
Weak, insignificant, and a side character more like it, right? 
That’s who he is. A minor character, someone who doesn’t get quests, whose contributions barely make a ripple, and only remembered as that one guy who likes to prank. 
So why — why, why, why, why, why — is he being chased by a man in stupid black sweatpants and a stupid black turtleneck in a stupid black motorcycle helmet holding a stupid, blood-stained, 13 inch knife?
This is something Percy gets into. Or Nico. Or Jason.
But not him.
Never him. 
Travis leaps over rubble, feet catching on the granite, and tumbles forward. He curses loudly, but rights himself and continue running. He doesn’t dare look back (he heard the stories. You look back to see where the killer is and you end up tripping and dying), so he keeps his eyes train up ahead to the not quite darkness, but close enough darkness that objects are just a dark fuzz. 
Rain is pouring a thunderous downpour, a drumming so loud it’s like a waterfall. The occasional lightning gives him a clear snapshot of his surroundings and those few milliseconds where he could see the rubble, he engraves in his mind. 
A fallen cabinet, a broken desk, shattered computers, a houseplant, a family portrait, cracked tile floors, a hole-ridden hand hanging over a toppled swivel chair— 
Nope! Nope, nope, nope, nope. He did not saw that. That is not what he thinks it is. That has to be doll or a mannequin. Something fake and plastic. Not real and flesh, because if it is then that means there’s something wrong! Something is killing people! (plague, monsters, aliens) And Travis don’t have time to think about that just yet. 
There’s a turn up ahead. Left? Right? Right is always right so right it is. 
He slows only a little bit, if only to make sure to doesn’t crash into the wall, before running full speed again. He prays to his dad that there’s no rubble in his way. 
And like his prayer is answered, lightning flashes, thunder booms and Travis skids to a stop, sneakers barely gripping the wet tiles that otherwise would have sent him careening over the edge of the crumbled building wall. He clasps his shaking hands together and take a deep breath, commanding his pounding heart to calm down, that no, you did not die. You almost die, but you didn’t. So stop beating so fast.  
He takes in the surrounding, noting the clouds first. They’re dark grey and expands as far as the broken, tilted buildings allow him to see. It blots out the sun and explains the darkness even though just a few minutes ago, it was as sunny as Camp Half Blood could be. His eyes lower to the buildings, all with broken windows, missing sections of bodies, and most tilted too precariously to be considered stable. He lower his eyes even further and gulps when he couldn’t see the bottom. A heavy mist permeates a couple feet down that not even the heavy rain could dissipate. For all he knows, the fall could be 20 feet or 150 feet.
Is there a way to get to the floor below him? Maybe if he just cling to the wall and — nope, the moment his hand touches where the wall meets air, it crumbles. There’s no way he can descend to the floor below. 
Macaroni.
This is a dead end. 
He turns around, fumbling and tripping over his shoulders, but freezes. 
Someone is turning the corner. And the glint of that wicked knife in their hand tells him it’s not Chiron dressed as Santa Clause. 
Cheese sticks, he’s trapped. Maybe he could hide before the man sees him and wait till — the man turns to the aisle to him and walks right in the middle towards him. 
Oh holy sandals. Travis takes a step back and his heel pushes the rubble off the ledge, a grim reminder that there’s no exit behind him. He glances behind him, a who-knows-how-high-drop into the abyss, then back to the front, a cynical man with a loose grip on his knife. 
Which is the better chance? Should he just jump? Does he even know if the man is dangerous? 
He has a knife and it’s stained with blood! Of course he’s dangerous! Travis bites his lips. If Connor was here, he knows what to do. 
The man is drawing scarily close now, close enough for Travis to see the black, tight-fitting sport shirt with long sleeves and collar up to his chin. Close enough for him to see his belt ladles with all sort of pointy objects. Close enough to see the brand of his black pants. Close enough to see black, hiking boots and definitely close enough to see the ocean blue of his eyes past the tinted shield of his Motorcycle helmet.
They’re cold, terrifying cold. 
If Travis wasn’t so scared for his life, he would ask the man where he shops. He’s sure Nico would like to know. 
He glances over his shoulder to the abyss again and stiffens. He can’t survive a high fall. He’s not Percy or Jason. There’s no way he can buffer his fall, but he’s a good talker. He’ll talk his way out of this like he always have with his pranks. So he snaps his eyes back forward and steels himself. 
“H-Hey!” AH NO his voice cracked! “Pal, buddy, amigo, I don’t know if this is your idea of a joke or a prank or just a very elaborate plan to get me to pee my pants, but can you please stop?”
The man didn’t even falter, didn’t even miss a step. 
“Look, I applaud you. Your dedication to your role is amazing, like your costume is some A+ design.” 
Oh gods, he’s still coming. And he’s actually tightening his grip on his knife!
“Unless you really are here to kill me to which I say, please don’t. I don’t even have a weapon to protect myself! That’s not fair, you know?” 
And finally, finally, finally, the man stops walking towards him, only standing two arms length away. He raises his free hand and Travis jerks his body into defense, but the rising hand only rubs the man’s neck. He raises his chin and talks. “Are you done, Connor? I don’t have time for your jokes.” 
The response is automatic, years of being called the wrong name ingrained this reflex in him. It’s natural to him, something he doesn’t even think about. As soon as the man finished his sentence, Travis was already saying, “I’m Travis.” 
The man falters and so did he. 
Most people never hear their voice before, most probably can’t identify their voice. But Travis hears his voice every day and before he left for college, every second of his life. They all said he shares everything with Connor, even in voice. 
“You… have the same voice as me,” Travis says hesitantly. 
The man isn’t advancing, his wide eyes train on Travis. He could see shock, surprise in those eyes. Or maybe it’s mania. It’s easier to differentiate emotions with the mouth in view. He stares for a few more seconds, looking up and down his entire body although his stare linger most on his Camp Half Blood shirt. 
“You’re… Travis?” he whispers.
There’s no mistaking it. That’s definitely his voice and there’s only one person Travis knows who shares the same voice as his. 
“Connor, you donkey. This isn’t funny. You really scared me!” The man freezes at his words, but Travis didn’t really pay much attention to it. Serves Connor right. He should have realize his older brother isn’t that stupid he can’t figure out this whole situation is a prank. 
He kicks the rubble, all tension leaving him. “I have to admit though that this is so cool. Who did you bribe to make this? Hazel? Lou Ellen? Annabeth? Wow, this place is so realistic.”
He saunters over to Connor. “And your costume is so cool. Did you got it from Nico?” 
He’s standing in front of Connor now, but his grins falter. Something is off. There’s fear in his eyes. Connor fears nothing. 
“Connor?” he asks, worry creeping into his voice. “What’s wrong?”
He raises a hand to take the gloved hand into his.
It happen then.
Travis is falling backwards, feet kicked in from below him. As he falls, he sees the fear melds into panic, rage as his back hit the tile and an arm raising a dagger that is definitely not celestial bronze and he watches as the dagger comes closer, closer, and closer to his face. 
It stops an inch from his eye. 
He didn't move. 
The hand holding the dagger looming dangerously over his face is shaking. Shaking rather badly. He wonders if he could ask Connor if he could just move that dagger out of way a bit.
“Why.” 
He spoke again. That’s definitely Connor’s voice. 
“Why didn’t you run? What are you doing? What game are you playing, Connor?” The voice is shaking so badly, more bad than his hand that is holding the dagger too close to his face. His instincts kicks in. He’s not playing along anymore. 
He grabs the hand with the weapon and tugs it off to the side. He stands up and picks up Connor with him too. “Let’s stop with the pranks for the moment. Are you okay?” he asks. 
Connor shakes his head, backing away.
Now Travis is really worried. “What’s the matter then?”
He doesn’t get an answer. Instead Connor rubs his neck. He takes a shuddering breath. “Oh gods. Oh gods. Oh gods.” 
Travis takes a step forward. “Connor, come on. You’re really sca—”
“I’m not Connor,” ‘Connor’ snaps. “I’m — I’m not who you — I’m just a dream. You’re dreaming. Now you’re gonna wake up. 
Not-Connor shoves his hand through his plumber’s belt and takes out a clover leaf the size of his palm. He holds it by the stem, twirls it once and let if fall. The air ripples as it descend, shimmering and and waving until the gray canvas that was the wall became a patch of beautiful yellow and grass.
“You’re dreaming,” Not-Connor repeats. 
Travis didn’t say anything, because really, this burn in his side? This heart pounding from his near fall off the ledge? This pain in his chest from the worry? It all feels so real to him.
Maybe this is how lucid dreaming is. It doesn’t matter. The man in front of him is in pain. The man shares his and Connor’s voice. Dream or no dream, he can’t let his brother imposter suffer. So he lingers. He looks to the side. He opens his mouth. “Hey, are you really—” 
Then Travis is falling for the second time that day. The man grunts and shoves him to the side with a hand. His other hand raises a shield, Athena’s Aegis shield, the shield with Medusa’s face that could with one look turn anything to stone. No sooner did he realize that and tries to avert his eyes (Annabeth’s lecturing voice always coming to haunt him with Greek lessons), did he sees  an arrow fly past him. It hits the shield with a thunk and Travis looks back to see the man recoiling from the impact. He’s falling back, falling right into the shimmering canvas with the pretty grass and sunkissed trees. 
That moment, their eyes met. One in shock, the other with fear.
Their hand reaches out, grasping at nothing, the blue in their eyes gleaming with despair and he was gone. The shimmering canvas is gone. The man is gone. Travis is all alone sans the crunch, crunch of boots stepping on broken tile. 
Travis turns his head sharply to see who’s coming and winces at the sudden voice from the end of the aisle shrouded in dark. “Listen to my orders or I’ll shoot again.” 
He listens, head down and a sick feeling in his stomach. This isn’t a prank, is it? This is real. This situation is real. “Hands up, all the way up.” 
As Travis complies, he could see leather boots in his peripheral vision. Even though he’s scared shitless and just as clueless, his curiosity beats over every emotion he has. And with his brother’s voice yelling in his voice about how he’s stupid and dumb and reckless, he raises his head up slowly. 
Past the brown, leather boots.
Past the tears-riddled jeans.
Past the cloth-covered arm and the crossbow in that arm, arrow notched and pointed at his face.
And to the scrunched up face that’s really familiar. 
He didn’t change much at all. He’s still short. His hair is still black. He’s still scowling. His face is still scrunched up like he stared down the shaft of his arrow for too long. The only thing that’s different is the bow — he always justs a traditional bow, not a crossbow — and the hostility. 
His friend never looked at him like that. 
Michael Yew glares at him like he’s Kronos himself and says with hate Travis didn’t know Michael has, “Travis. I swear on my left arm that if you move one more time, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to walk.” 
////////////
He’s tumbling back. It strikes him that the portal site is behind him. 
But it’s too late. 
He can’t plant his feet in time. [no.] 
He’s falling. [no.]
His eyes meet the boy’s with the painful orange shirt and they’re wide, clueless, still bright with life, not dead like his are. 
He’s passing. [no.]
Not the kid in front of him. 
Not the kid. 
And he’s out there. 
And shit. Fuck. shit shit shit. [do something!]
He reaches out, praying, hoping, that his fingers snag on his.
But it didn’t. 
And he’s falling.
.
falling 
.
falling.
.
The ground comes faster than he expected. 
He groans, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head, and opens his eyes.
Blinding yellow, that’s the first thing he notices.
Speckled blue and swaying green are the next. 
Colors. Real colors. He’s seeing real colors. 
[what is this? what’s going on?]
He leans forward, hands crunching — no, something crunching when he uses his hands as leverage to stand. Green, he sees, and brown. Soft green, hard brown. 
He stares at it, knowing what they are, but the names… their names aren’t coming to him. None of this are. It’s been so long since he saw them, or even uses their words.
But he eventually recalls what they are. Leaves and sticks and the sun, the sky, the trees, the — 
[we shouldn’t have these]
He bolts to his feet, stumbling heavily. It’s too hot. It’s too warm. It’s suffocating. He rips the helmet off and tosses it aside. But it isn’t better. He can see more, could hear more, could smell more.  (The clouds, the wind, the birds, the chirping, the trees, the swaying )
Someone’s breathing heavily and he spins around out of instinct, expecting a stumbler but only seeing more trees (pine trees, birch trees, willow trees) 
[calm down you need to calm down]
It’s him. He’s breathing too loud and he stops gulping air, holding it in. And then letting it go. He can’t panic here. He needs to find a way back over. He’s in danger. He’s out there. He saw him, saw them running. He knows they’re there. He needs to get back now.
He fumbles with his thigh pouch (the ground, it’s so dry) his hands won’t stop shaking (he could see the the sky) he could see the inklings of the green leaf among the black inside of his pouch (the sun feels so warm) and he grasps it in his gloved hand. 
They crumble into pieces that the wind blew away.
He stares at the crumbled pieces, not comprehending, not understanding.
This is a dream. It has to be a dream. There’s no possible explanation.
His neck twinges and he cups it. 
It hurts. 
It hurts. This isn’t a dream. It can’t be a dream. It hurts.
So this is real? [it’s real] Is all this real? [it’s real] Or is it just another twisted image the Gods are giving him? [i can’t believe this is real.]
He starts when a branch cracks behind him and before he could turn around, a man’s voice rings out,
“Travis! There you are!” 
It’s familiar. But also not. 
“Where you been? We’ve been looking for you for over an hour.” 
A remnant of a memory from so long ago floats to the surface. 
“Come on, I have arts and crafts with your cabin. Tyson is stoked for it.” 
And he turns around to see him. The one that haunts his dreams. That terrorizes his sleep and stalks his conscious.  The one with black hair (caked with blood) that hangs over sea-green eyes (fill with bloodlust) and a grin (a glower) on his face with a 6 (6?) beaded necklace over a sickening bright, orange T-shirt.
Son of Poseidon, Perseus Jackson.
His blood freezes.
His heart stops. 
His throat closes. 
[kill him.]
And a hazy, belligerent red washes over him. 
[don’t. you need to run. you’re in danger] [no. you should kill him]
[get out of there. he’ll kill you] [kill him. end this life]
[run away now][get your revenge]
“Travis? What’s the matter?” Perseus asks, his voice infuriatingly friendly, light-hearted.
Perseus takes one step towards him [run] [attack] and another and one more till he’s within arms reach.
[within stabbing reach. do it. do it now.] 
[don’t. run. please. just run.]
[aim for his torso. let his organs trail.]
[stop it.]
[you’re going to run like a coward? after everything he did to you?] 
[don’t listen to him. run away.]
[don’t be a coward.]
[you need to survive.]
“Travis? You okay? You look like you’re out of it.” And a hand touches his shoulder. 
He made his decision then. 
He pulls the knife from his thigh and lunges forward with every intention of stabbing the face clean of skin, muscle, and bone. 
Perseus leaps back, stuttering, “Hey! What are doing?”
He shot forward. The chest is just as good as the face. Probably more painful too. 
“Travis! What the heck! What’s wrong? Hey!”
He didn’t answer. All that matters is getting his dagger into (unmarred?) flesh and twisting it free and thrusting it back in. Again and again and again. Till he’s dead as much as the others. 
Perseus turns tail and runs. 
He follows. 
“Crap, crap, crap!” 
He catches up in seconds, kicking his feet out under him so he’ll tumble to the ground. He’s on him the next second, pulling the arm behind Percy’s back and across to rest against his hips. He pushes down at the wrist. The yelp that follows didn’t quench the red haze. Maybe if he sees actual red, actual blood. He raises his knife. Perseus bucks and tries to throw him off  and he nearly did, but he locks down more. A knife in the spine should stop his struggling. He tightens his hold on his handle, lift it higher and — 
someone rips it from his hand.
Another pulls him back by the shoulder till he’s off completely and on his back. 
And a third is trying to restrain him by digging their knee into the cavity of his throat.
He slips his dagger from behind his back and jabs the knife right above where the kneecap should be. He slices out. Blood splatters across his face and screams break out in multiple directions. One in pain. Several in terror. Zombies don’t scream. Zombies don’t bleed. The knees retracts and he rolls out from under the restraint and onto his knees. 
But a hand is already on his upper arm the next second. He grabs the owner’s arm and their ugly orange shirt, sweep his leg out, and tugs down. The fourth person fell. 
But a fifth and sixth person already have hands on him and they shove his face into the dirt and pin his wrists behind his back. 
He struggles for all he’s worth, but there’s more hands and more force and more yelling. So he struggles harder. 
“Shit, what the fuck is wrong with you Travis!” 
He kicks a shin.  
“Clarisse! Clarisse!! Oh my god. Oh my GOD!”
He bites a hand. 
“Get out of my way. I’m going to kick his teeth in!”
He headbutts someone in the balls. 
“Dude, calm down! Piper, charmspeak his ass!”
[Piper?] and he stops struggling. 
Hands are locking his wrist together. But the only thing he can think about is 
[Piper? But Piper is—]
“Forget charmspeaking. Someone get Connor! Wait, I see him. Connor, get over here! Your brother went off the radar.” 
“Travis.”
He raises his head an inch and stare at the monster. At the man. At the horse. A centaur. A familiar face. A face from before the apocalypse. What was his name? 
“Travis, will you please tell us what is ailing you?” 
Gods, what is his name? What is his name? 
[a bastard]
“Travis? Can you understand me?”
What was it? Cylas? Chance? Camdyn? Caelan?  Charon? Chiron? 
“What are you wearing, Travis? ”
Chiron. It was Chiron.
“Travis, can you speak?”
Chiron Chiron Chiron Chiron Chiron. That’s Chiron. But how, why, what?
“Tra… vis?”
And he trace it to the source, eyes landing on the face he sees everyday. The ocean blue eyes he etchs down to memory. The unruly, unbrushed brown hair he knows down to the last curl. But the orange shirt. The brown khakis. The 9 beaded necklace. That thin line running across his left brow. The surprise, the worry, the unsureness is all new. 
That isn’t his brother.
The beads don’t match up. The scar don’t add up. Something’s wrong. 
Another man comes up beside Chiron. He looks familiar too. But he recalls his name in an instant. Dionysus.
Dionysus waves a hand and his eyes fall shut without permission. Before passing out, he hears Chiron, in his scold he haven’t heard for so, so long, “Mr. D!” 
21 notes · View notes
Text
Dream's Orders
So this is my tiny for this Fanderside Au! I’m pleased to meet him, and if you wish to play with him, please feel free to ask me about doing a rp or co-story!
I hope you enjoy!!
Warnings- Mentions of abuse towards tiny’s, mentions of suffocation, mentions of starvation, mentions of plans to murder someone. Indication of past psychical and emotional abuse.
I believe that is everything, please tell me if I missed anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You understand what you’re to do?” The man speaks gruffly. He’s dressed in fine clothing, and looking down at a tiny standing before him. The tiny has silver grey hair that reaches his shoulders and pale blue eyes. He’s dressed in ill fitting doll clothing, standing a mere 4 inches high, bruises and scars of all kinds, both old and new, cover his body. He makes no indication that they hurt, he couldn’t afford to show that weakness.
“Yes sir” the tiny says, his voice is faint, hardly a whisper in the air but the man hears it all the same. The man nods and motions for the tiny to get in a box that’s sitting on it’s side near him. He does, limping as he climbs into the box. It’s sealed and dumped in the outgoing mail. Hopefully he’d arrive before he got too bad with lack of food and water, but if he failed there were more that could be sent in his place, they were raised for these kinds of jobs after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The package arrived in the regular mail, one side had been slightly crushed and the plain box was addressed to “Sanders Sanctuary” Thomas hummed as he gathered the box with the other mail, and headed inside.
“Bill, bill, invite to an interview..” He paused looking at who was invite him and wrinkled his nose. Nope, those people had a very bad reputation for spinning anything someone said into some sort of slander. That got ripped in half and tossed in the trash.
“Lets see.. magazine, and this?” He mused looking at the plain box. No return address, and just addressed to the sanctuary? Puzzled Thomas got out a letter opener and sliced open the tape holding the box shut. He opened it and very nearly dropped the box in shock when he saw what was inside.
“Larry!!” He yelped as he bolted for the medical wing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“…though the mail…” the words floated though his head. It was too much effort to actually open his eyes, and the voice wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t his sir speaking, or any of the trainers he knew. He felt weaker the normal and his head was spinning.
“cruel… could have died!” He really wished the voices would be quiet, but they didn’t seem to want to stop. Finally he managed to pry one eye open. The room that greeted him, made both his eyes snap open. He was NOT where he was supposed to be! This was not Sir’s cage! He then remembered what happened, he’d been given orders, and put in a box. Then mailed.. .it had taken.. what a week and a half? Two weeks? He wasn’t sure.. but the heat of the summer in the enclosed box had been almost unbearable, it had been suffocating. Of course it wouldn’t be the first time he’d been suffocated, no being smothered by a pillow and trapped in a plastic bag held tightly around his body was probably worse then the stale, sweltering air inside of the box. He had no idea when he’d finally blacked out from lack of water, food and the heat.
“Woah.. it’s alright..  ” a gentle voice spoke to him. Slowly the pale blue eyes turned and looked at the blurry figure.
“I’m glad you woke up, but don’t try to push yourself. You were pretty dehydrated, and you’re pretty malnourished.” The blurry person said. He nodded, nothing new on those fronts. Being underfed kept him quiet and not with enough energy to try and escape Sir, or fight back.. or well anything. The rest, well he had spent quite a long time taped inside a box in the mail with no food or water.
He was still trying to sort out what was going on though, he hadn’t expected to wake up.. in a hospital? And weirdly enough everything seemed to be his size. Had he been sent to the wrong address? Chapped lips parted as he shifted slightly
“.. where?” his voice was a rasp, worse then when he spoke to Sir, but the person, still blurry darn it, attending him spoke.
“Sanders Sanctuary, you were.. well…” they trailed off as if unsure if they should say how he arrived.
“Mailed.. to us.. ” he said. Again there was a nod, he knew this, he’d gotten his orders and climbed into the box obediently, thank goodness he was in the right place. Still he was very confused, Sir had never mentioned they had a hospital here.
“I’m sure your throat is dry as sand, lets get you something to drink!” Suddenly the blurry figure left his sight and came back, a cool hand lifted his head slightly and something was pressed to his lips. Then the fist brush of liquid graced his chapped lips and he drank willingly. The one supporting him told him to drink slowly and he did so. The liquid felt like heaven and the pounding headache was already starting to lessen a bit. But he was feeling exhausted, not unusual, he was always tired.. sore, hurt, nothing new. But it was odd to have someone gently lay him down and smooth soft covers over him. He noted absently he was no longer in the painful doll clothes, but something softer that fit far better then anything he’d ever had on in his life.
“You get some rest, we’ll talk more later alright?” the blurry person said. He nodded once more and his eyes shut, how strange to be allowed to rest so much.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was the routine for at least four days. Finally though he was sitting up on his own, and able to talk normally. He found out he had on a pair of soft pants, and a t-shirt that opened in the center. He’d had a heart monitor on him, along with an IV, both things were tiny sized, and he was more puzzled then ever. He watched the others his size come and go, and sometimes saw humans come in, and move a part of the roof to gently set tiny people in, or to put supplies into the room. They never stayed long, he honestly was more confused then ever.
“Alright, I have been told you’re clear to leave the hospital!” a nurse tiny said. He nodded his head and would get up off of the bed.
“Now you go see Patton, He will guide you to your new room and help you get settled alright?” He nodded his head in agreement, and though he was still limping, he headed out of the hospital. It didn’t take long for him to locate Paton, or more accurately for Patton to locate him.
“Kiddo! They were able to let you out today!” he said cheerfully  having been heading to to the hospital to check and see if he’d been cleared. He nodded his head again.
“Yes, You must be Patton?” he asked. His voice was still whisper quiet, but Patton nodded beaming at him.
“Yep! nobody has told me yet, so what’s your name kiddo?” He asked curiously.
“Dream” He said simply in response.
“Dream huh? Well that’s a great name! Why don’t we get you settled in alright? Virgil will want to get some measurements on you, right now we just guessed at the clothing size you needed, and he’ll want to know what kind of style you like.. ” Patton rambled on as he led Dream down the walks and halls that were all borrower sized.
None of this made sense to Dream. This Sanctuary was supposedly tied to the Shadow man, and Sir wanted the owner and the Shadow Man dead. Dream had been told to expect torture or experimentation, but to get the job done. And it wasn’t like that would be any different then just going though his daily training. Torture, pain, suffering, conditioning, all of it done to him all the time so he was the perfect little assassin. He could hold up to torture and not crack, he could pretend he had no pain, and he didn’t really care about killing a human or tiny alike. His hands were not clean in the least in that sense. He’d gotten numb to the guilt that it caused him.
Outside of Sir, nobody believed a tiny could do something as complicated as being an assassin.  Still though, this place… was nothing like he had expected. They had been weirdly kind to him, and weirdly accepting of his refusal to speak about, well much of anything, and just… weird.. in general.
“Oh that’s Thomas!! Thomas!!” Patton called out, bringing Dream back from his thoughts.
“Here’s the one who.. this is Dream! He’s finally been released from the hospital! I’m taking him to his room now!” Patton said. Dream looked at the human. He didn’t seem… he simply looked overworked, tired, and perhaps a bit stressed, but the warm smile he sent Dream’s way confused him more.
“I’m so glad you’re recovering so fast Dream. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask alright?” he said. Dream nodded very slowly at the human. And again his expectations were being twisted, this man didn’t seem cruel, or like a mob boss, or any underground owner he’d ever met. Dream’s head was starting to spin from the confusion.
“Good, why not go get some rest. We’ll have dinner in a few hours if you’re up to meeting everyone.” Thomas added and headed down the hall. Dream’s pale blue eyes watched him. This was one of the people he was supposed to kill? That was supposedly someone in league with the Shadow Man? He didn’t look like he could hurt a mosquito. Dream looked back to Patton and frowned. Everything seemed.. complicated. But he wasn’t allowed to survive if he failed. He had been given orders from Sir. Kill them both, or die trying. Dream sighed a little bit, feeling some odd weight settling heavy in his chest.
“Everything alright kiddo?” Patton asked. Dream simply nodded a little, though Patton was sure that there was something turning behind those pale eyes.
“Alright, so here is your room, why don’t you get settled in for a bit, and I’ll see you later alright?” he offered. Dream nodded and then stepped in the room. He could use some down time, and some peace and quiet to shove these weird conflicting emotions to the side. He had a job to do, and he wouldn’t fail Sir.
Thomas Sanders, and the Shadow Man were to die. That was all there was too it. So why did he have an odd tight feeling in his chest at the thought?
Dream sat down on the edge of the bed in the room and looked at the floor.
“.. i .. have to .. right?” he muttered out loud to the empty room.
T: AAAAAAAh, So you have me HOOKED on this idea! What a cool idea, a borrower sent to infiltrate the sanctuary! And oof, I just wanna give poor Dream a hug. But I am so here for him getting his walls slowly chipped away and him finally realizing that everyone here is really good, and him wrestling between that and what he’s been ordered to do...super cool, thank you for writing this!
59 notes · View notes
inyournightmares97 · 6 years
Text
My Youth (Chapter 5)
Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.
Warnings: Mentions of suicide/depression, angst, slow build, maybe some language.(Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)
Word Count: 5.3k+
(Can’t put links to the other parts here, please check my Masterlist/the reblog for the Prologue and Chapters 1, 2, 3 and 4)
Tumblr media
“-thank you so much for taking care of her. I really don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t around. I don’t know how to make it up to you-”
“Sweetheart, don’t worry about it. She’s a perfect angel and she’s never caused the slightest trouble. I know you’re working hard. Are you sure you don’t want me to pack up some dinner for you both?”
“I’m sure, Mrs. Park. I bought some groceries tonight so I can cook. Thank you again-”
“Don’t mention it, darling.”
You combed the hair of your little Barbie doll while you listened to your mother and Mrs. Park converse on the front porch of the Parks’ house. Ever since your father had passed away, Mrs. Park had been the one to pick both you and Jinyoung up from school. Your mother then collected you from the Parks’ house once she got off work at night. You didn’t mind the arrangement too much. It meant that you and Jinyoung could spend all evening playing together, and Mrs. Park always had yummy snacks for both of you.
Jinyoung came running over to you with a big plastic box in his hand. “I found the dominoes!” he told you excitedly. “We can make a huge trail of them and push them over so they topple in a line like in that video we saw!”
You pointed towards the living room. “My Mom is here to pick me up.”
Jinyoung’s shoulders drooped. “Oh. She’s earlier than usual.”
“We can make the trail of dominoes tomorrow?”
Jinyoung nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
You waved goodbye to Jinyoung and went running over to your mother, who smiled softly when she saw you. She looked tired but patted your head gently and then turned you to face Mrs. Park. “Let’s go home, sweetie. Did you thank Mrs. Park for looking after you?”
You turned obediently to Jinyoung’s mother. “Thank you for looking after me, Mrs. Park!”
Mrs. Park smiled at you. “You’re welcome, dear.”
Your mother took your hand and you followed her down the street to the bus stop happily. It had been a while since your mother had come home from work before dinnertime and you were glad to see her. You tugged at her hand eagerly.
“Mom, what are we having for dinner?” you wondered.
“I thought we could make some pasta tonight, and we could even bake some cookies for dessert. How do you like the sound of that?”
You beamed. “Can we save a few cookies for Jinyoung and Mrs. Park? They’re always sharing their cookies with me.”
“Of course we can, sweetie.”
----
Jinyoung was sitting on the curb at the corner of his block, still wearing his awful black hoodie.
You paused in your tracks when you spotted him. It was about 6pm; Mrs. Park’s birthday barbecue was scheduled to begin at 5:30 and the elderly people in this town were never late. You were in charge of making the salad and the side dishes while Mr. Park handled the meat and the drinks. The older man had already called you up twice to check on how long it would take you to arrive. The buses had been running late, causing your delay.
But Jinyoung was sitting out here. Alone.
“Hey,” you greeted him.
Jinyoung looked up. His eyes widened when he saw the number of tupperware boxes and bags you were struggling to carry. A classic gentleman even in his misery, he jumped up and took some of the boxes from you quickly.
“What’s all this? Why are you carrying this alone?” he demanded, groaning as he took some of the load.
“It’s food for your Mom’s party,” you explained.
Jinyoung stared down at the boxes in his arms in disbelief. “You made all this? It must have taken you hours.”
“It’s fine, I do it every year. The cake is still on it’s way, though. I asked someone to deliver it at quarter past six,” you explained lightly. Jinyoung was barely listening to you. He was staring down at the food in his arms with a slightly dazed gaze and you sighed.
No wonder he wasn’t himself. The news of his dismissal had already taken the internet by storm.
“I… uh, I saw the articles online,” you admitted quietly.
Jinyoung let out a dry laugh and shifted his gaze to the ground to avoid your eyes. “You and the rest of this country. Did you know one of the news channels is doing a one-hour special on me tonight? It’s going to be on at the same time as the football game. They seriously think a tv special on my life will convince people to switch over from the football game.”
The pain in Jinyoung’s tired eyes was unmistakable. You could tell that he was struggling to keep himself together. You bit your lip and shifted the boxes to one arm, using the other hand to tug on his sleeve so that he would look at you. “Jinyoung. Did you get a chance to talk to your parents about it? Please don’t tell me you let them hear about it from someone else.”
Jinyoung frowned. “I’m not that stupid.”
“So you told them?”
“I sat them down and told them about it last night,” Jinyoung muttered. His hands were turning white as he clutched your boxes, and he let out a shaky sigh. “Mom started crying. It was a mess. I can’t… I can’t deal with all of this,” he admitted to you. His dark brown eyes pierced into yours with a sense of desperation. “I can’t go to that party. Every single person there has probably seen the news already. They’re all… they’re all going to be talking about it, I can’t…”
“Jinyoung.”
“What?” he snapped.
“Jinyoung, it’s your mother’s birthday.”
“I know, but-”
“But nothing. It’s your mother’s birthday. You’re thirty years old. How many birthdays do you think she has left? Trust me. When the time comes, you’re going to regret not spending every last second you had with her,” you told him firmly. “It’s just the neighbours and a few people from around town. What’s the worst they can do?”
Jinyoung hesitated. “I mean-”
“No, seriously. What’s the worst they can do?” you demanded. “Make snarky comments about how you got fired? Did you reach this age and position in life without knowing how to handle a few mean remarks or loose-tongued old people?”
Jinyoung bit his pink lip and sighed. “You’re making me feel like a child.”
“Then don’t act like one. Toughen up.”
Before Jinyoung had time to react, you stepped up to the front porch and rang the doorbell. You saw him freeze out of the corner of your eye but he didn’t have enough time to run away before the door swung open. Mrs. Park was standing on the other side. Her eyes widened in delight at the sight of you and all the food you were carrying.
“Oh, darling! What’s all this you’ve brought? Why did you make so much?” Mrs. Park asked you kindly, although you could see how pleased she was. She tried to take the tupperware boxes from you but you smiled and held them away from her.
“Nope! No carrying for the birthday girl!” you teased her playfully. “I brought salad, side dishes and your gentleman son to help me carry everything,” you sang. Mrs. Park glanced behind you and her eyes widened at the sight of Jinyoung standing there awkwardly. Her expression suddenly became worried.
“Jinyoung, sweetheart, you don’t have to be here when there are so many people in the house-”
“He wants to be here,” you reassured her firmly. You glanced at Jinyoung and gave him a pointed look. “Come on, help me carry these into the kitchen so I can plate them. There are plenty of hungry people waiting out back and we don’t have a lot of time to waste. Mrs. Park, you should go sit down.”
Mrs. Park hesitated. “But Jinyoung…”
“I’m fine, Mom. Just go ahead and enjoy the party” Jinyoung mumbled. He followed you into the kitchen with his lips pressed together tightly. Once Mrs. Park was out of sight, you grabbed his arm and tugged on it quickly.
“This is a party. Can you please change out of that awful hoodie?” you hissed.
Jinyoung glared at you and yanked his arm out of your grasp. “Fine, relax, I’m not an idiot,” he muttered as he handed you the boxes of food and then turned to go to his room. You couldn’t help but smile as you saw his reluctant figure trudge up the stairs.
All he needed was a little push.
---------------
You wondered why you couldn’t take your eyes off Jinyoung all evening.
Perhaps it was because with the black hoodie finally discarded and in a smart pair of jeans and a dress shirt, Jinyoung looked just like the handsome and eligible bachelor he was. His dark hair flopping carelessly into his eyes and the gentle smile on his plush lips was enough to make any woman swoon.
“Jinyoung! Oh, our dear Jinyoung-ie! Mrs. Park, you must be so glad to finally have your son home!” one of Mrs. Park’s friends cooed as she pinched Jinyoung’s cheeks. Jinyoung froze and stared at the woman helplessly. “Look at this handsome boy! It seems like just yesterday you were in diapers!”
“Uh…. thank you, Mrs. Lee…”
“They must be giving you a hard time in Seoul. Look how thin you are!” another older lady cried, swatting Jinyoung’s arm fondly. “You need to fatten up on your mother’s cooking quickly. You were so much chubbier as a child! How could they treat our dear boy so badly?”
Jinyoung had to struggle to extricate himself from the older women who were fawning over him. He tried to push them away but he noticed the proud look in his mother’s eyes and resigned himself to their pinching and tugging.
You decided to rescue him.
“All right! Time for the birthday girl to cut the cake!” you announced loudly, bringing in the large birthday cake and setting it on the table. Everyone clapped and cheered as Mrs. Park was gently pushed to the front. She smiled at you when you lit the single candle on top of the cake.
“Don’t forget to make a wish, Mrs. Park!”
The woman blushed and leaned closer to the cake. Her eyes briefly flickered towards Jinyoung, standing a few feet away from her, before she gently closed them and blew out the candle.
The entire party began a delighted chorus of Happy Birthday. You joined the loud singing, noticing how Mrs. Park’s soft gaze was locked on her son with a fond smile. There were few moments in your life when you had seen the old woman’s eyes truly light up and this was one of them.
Nothing can make a mother happier than her son.
Mr. Park soon set about grilling the meat and you busied yourself with pouring drinks and making sure everyone’s plates were full. It wasn’t until you were handing a mug of beer to Mr. Kang that you finally heard the elephant in the room mentioned out loud.
“So, what’s wrong with those people in your company, eh?” old Mr. Kang demanded, clapping Jinyoung on the back after his fourth beer. You froze and noticed how Jinyoung stiffened. “Letting you go like that and then saying it was because you weren’t working hard enough? Do those imbeciles even know what they’re talking about?”
Jinyoung cleared his throat nervously and his eyes darted around nervously. “Uhh…”
“What was the phrase they used in that article, Mr. Cha? Oh yeah! Lack of dedication!” Mr. Kang roared with laughter as Jinyoung flinched. “My friend from the next town was asking about it and I said to him-I said listen here Yoon, that’s a pack of dirty lies because there is nobody who’s more dedicated than Park fucking Jinyoung, you hear me?”
Mr. Cha laughed. “If that isn't the truth. You remember the time these kids found a litter of kittens out in the alley? And Mr. Park here told them that they couldn’t keep them all so they’d either have to find homes for them or give them to the animal shelter in the next town?”
Mr. Kang roared with drunken laughter and suddenly, he clapped you on the back as well. You tried to catch Jinyoung’s eye but he was staring at the ground silently. You couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.
“How could I forget? They went around knocking at every single door in this bloody town asking people to adopt the kittens!” Mr. Kang bellowed. He wrapped an arm around Jinyoung’s shoulder heartily. “This one came and knocked on my door five times that day until I finally took the bloody kitten just to be rid of him. And those stuffy white collars are trying to tell me our Jinyoung’s not dedicated?”
Mr. Cha chuckled and handed Jinyoung a glass of beer. Jinyoung took it silently, not even flinching when some of it sloshed over his hands. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down awkwardly.
“Don’t you worry about those stuck-up Seoul men, Jinyoung. There’s plenty of business opportunities here. In fact, I have this smashing investment idea I meant to run by you!”
“You and your stupid ideas, Cha-”
“This friend of mine works for this big construction company, you see, and they’re about to sign a huge deal. Their stock prices are pretty cheap right now so if we buy a bunch of them and then sell them after the prices rise after the announcement of the deal-”
Jinyoung’s eyes widened in alarm. “Mr. Cha, that’s extremely illegal-”
“No, no, it’s just a little tip-off between friends, that’s all!”
“Yes, that’s called insider trading and it’s a criminal offense that could get you and your friend arrested. Please don’t touch any of the stocks in your friend’s company!” Jinyoung cried, looking shocked.
You didn’t have time to listen to Mr. Kang scold Mr. Cha for being an idiot because somebody was calling your name. You whirled around with the tray and spotted Mrs. Park waving at you hopefully.
“Mrs. Park!” you quickly put the empty tray down on a table and smiled at the older woman. “Is everything all right? Are you tired?”
Mrs. Park waved your concerns off with a forced smile. “I’m perfectly fine, dear.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded and then took your arm, gently pulling you aside. She lowered her voice nervously. “Do you think… do you think Jinyoung is all right, dear? He didn’t seem to want to attend the party earlier. He was worried about facing all the neighbours considering, well, considering the news that came out earlier today. It’s all so sensitive.”
You placed your hand over her gently. “Mrs. Park, he’s fine.”
“But are you sure-”
“Yes, I’m sure. I promise you, what Jinyoung needs right now is to be around other people,” you insisted. You both glanced towards Jinyoung on the other side of the backyard. He was squished in between Mr. Kang and Mr. Cha with a slightly alarmed look on his face while the two men talked in obnoxiously loud voices. You turned back to the older woman. “You know better than me that Jinyoung has been living alone in Seoul for a long time. He needs something to take his mind off the old life he lost. Who better than Mr. Kang, who speaks so loudly that you can barely hear yourself think when he’s a few feet away?”
Mrs. Park giggled. “You shouldn’t talk about your elders like that.”
You smiled at her mischievously. “Are you going to tell on me, Mrs. Park?”
“It’ll be our secret,” she promised. You waited as the older woman let out a soft sigh and then turned to look at you, her eyes gentle. “I’ve been so worried about Jinyoung. He doesn’t normally tell me things. You know how he keeps his troubles to himself. My only comfort is that he has you in his life.”
You blinked at her, startled. “Mrs. Park…”
“I thought… he’s been acting so cold towards you since he came back that I thought perhaps something was wrong,” Mrs. Park admitted. You bit your lip. Of course she noticed. She’s a mother, she has eyes like a hawk. “But then he mentioned that you were the first person he told about getting fired. Jinyoung trusts you. He always has. And you’re such a wonderful, caring person that I know simply being around you will help him.”
“Mrs. Park-”
“You’re not angry with him, are you? I know Jinyoung has barely contacted you all these years. But you’re still his only friend here,” she muttered. She squeezed your hand desperately. “I’m sorry, darling. I know that sometimes I ask too much of you. But please, please help me take care of Jinyoung. Please be a friend to him. He needs someone like you to guide him during this difficult time.”
Your throat closed up as you looked down at Mrs. Park. This woman had been like a mother to you for your entire life. She had fed you and taken excellent care of you for years after your father died. She had been a shoulder to cry on and a pillar to help you stand. You had never met anyone with a kinder soul.
You couldn’t say no to a woman like that.
You simply couldn’t.
Whatever Jinyoung had or hadn’t done in the past, you simply owed his mother far too much to refuse such a pure and heartfelt request.
“Of course I’ll be a friend to him,” you promised her, taking her hand. “You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Park. Your son is going to be absolutely fine. And I’ll… I’ll always be there for him.”
Mrs. Park beamed at you. “Thank you, dear.”
“How about another slice of birthday cake?”
--------------
Once everyone had had their fill of the barbecue, they hurried indoors to watch the football game.
You were so busy arranging the seats in the living room to fit everyone in front of the modest television, and finding cushions for the older guests with backaches, that you forgot to keep an eye on Jinyoung. It was only once the match had begun and Mr. Kang was busy speaking with his booming voice over the official commentator that you realized Jinyoung had disappeared.
Where was he?
You slowly snuck out of the living room and checked the backyard. You scanned the dining room and the bathroom before finally retreating to the kitchen, where you found the man in question.
Jinyoung was leaning against the counter, arms folded loosely across his chest. His dress shirt was crumpled and his hair messy. The slightly unfocused manner in which he stared at a tile on the floor tipped you off that he was drunk. Evidently, Mr. Cha had forced Jinyoung to drink a few too many beers.
“Hey,” you greeted him.
Jinyoung stared at the floor silently.
“Not going to watch the football game?” you wondered casually. “South Korea is playing today so even the oldies are excited. Whether we win or lose, Mr. Kang is going to get outrageously drunk for sure.”
Jinyoung didn’t respond. The blank look in his eyes began to scare you and you waved a hand in front of his face to make sure that he was still alive. “Jinyoung? Are you okay? I can make you a cup of coffee to help you sober up, if you want-”
“I don’t understand,” he whispered.
“What don’t you understand?”
Jinyoung finally looked up at you and you were startled by the emotion in his dark and  bloodshot eyes. When he spoke, his voice cracked. “Why are they all so happy to see me? I’ve never done anything for any of them.”
Your hand dropped to your side.
“I haven’t even thought about most of these people in ten years,” Jinyoung continued shakily. You watched him swallow and struggle to continue. “I owned a million-dollar company but I never gave any of them a penny. I never called them on their birthdays or anniversaries. I can barely remember them but they’re all so… so happy to see me. Why? Why should they be glad to see someone like me? Why should they greet me with such open arms? What have I ever done?”
You took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to say. They’re not glad to see you because you’ve done anything for them, Jinyoung. I don’t think they even expect anything. They’re just proud of you.”
Jinyoung closed his eyes. “Why? I’m a failure. Every single person at that party knows I’m a failure.”
“I don’t think they see you that way.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because they watched you grow up. Because their memories of you aren’t of you as a CEO or a rich businessman. Their memories of you are you stealing peaches from their front yards and begging them to adopt kittens,” you replied. “They don’t care about your failures and your successes. They care about you because of who you are.”
Jinyoung frowned. “And who am I?”
“You’re Park Jinyoung,” you told him softly. “Whether you like it or not, whether you want it or not, you’re from this town. You’re one of us. No matter how far you go, you’ll always be one of us. And simply for that reason everybody here will always take pride in your achievements and share the pain of your losses.”
“Shouldn’t they be disappointed in me?” he demanded.
You opened your mouth to respond but you were cut off by a loud and uproarious cheering coming from the living room. By the sound of it, South Korea had scored a goal. You smiled at Jinyoung and gave him a small nudge.
“See that? See how they’re cheering for the national team? If South Korea wins tonight then they’re going to scream and celebrate like they’ve gone mad. If South Korea loses… they’re not going to be angry. A little disappointed, maybe. But that doesn’t mean they stop supporting South Korea and switch to some other country. They’ll just wait and cheer again next time. The next match, the next tournament. Your loyalties don’t change because of one or two losses. They become even stronger.”  
The corner of Jinyoung’s lips turned up in a dry smile. “You’re saying I’m like their national football team?”
“I’m saying these people have been wishing you well all your life,” you told him softly. “They’re not going to stop because you’re facing a setback in your career. Your victories are their victories. Your losses are their losses. There’s no other condition or expectation that you have to meet. That’s what home is, Jinyoung. Where the people always love you.”
Jinyoung was silent. His head hung downwards, messy hair flopping into his dark eyes. You watched as he took a deep and shuddering breath.
“What about you?’ he whispered.
You froze. “Me?”
“Are you still cheering for me? Even after the way I’ve treated you?” his voice became softer as he clenched his fists. “I cut you off for nearly a decade, there’s no point in pretending it didn’t happen. Can you still cheer for me after that?”
You felt your own throat close up. Could you? Could you still cheer for him wholeheartedly and welcome him with open arms, the way all the other neighbours had? Could you look yourself in the eye with complete honesty and tell yourself that Jinyoung was still your best friend?
You couldn’t. Deep down, you didn’t know whether Park Jinyoung was still your friend.
But right now, he needed you to be his.
“Time and distance just weren’t on our side, Jinyoung,” you told him carefully. The words were heavy on your tongue and you felt naked under the sharp look of disbelief in Jinyoung’s eyes. Yet you had to say them. You had to say them because the man in front of you needed you to say them. “But we never stopped being friends. I’ll always be here for you. There’s no point in blaming you for something you couldn’t control.”
Jinyoung’s shoulders relaxed. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do.”
He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we first saw each other, I… I was ashamed. I was afraid you’d find out why I returned and I was afraid you would laugh at me for returning with my tail tucked in between my legs.”
You nodded. “That’s okay, Jinyoung.”
“Is it really?”
“Of course.”
You were shocked when Jinyoung suddenly took a step towards you and wrapped his arms around you in a gentle, yet firm hug. You could feel his warm breath on your shoulder and his messy hair tickled your cheek. Your cheeks flushed in surprise but you forced yourself to wrap your arms around him in return and gently pat his back.
“Jinyoung…” you whispered.
“I don’t feel as alone when I’m here,” he admitted to you softly. He pulled you closer to his chest and you found yourself melting into his embrace. Being in Jinyoung’s arms felt so new, yet so familiar. For a moment you were taken back to the last time you’d hugged Jinyoung like this. The last time you’d hugged him goodbye at the train station as he left for Seoul.
The last time Park Jinyoung had felt like your friend.
“You’re not alone,” you reassured him softly.
Jinyoung reluctantly pulled back and bowed his head. His eyes were shining with tears and he cleared his throat, quickly wiping them away with the back of his sleeve before you could see them clearly.
“Sorry, I uh…”
“You just needed a hug,” you told him softly. So did I. So many times. But you weren’t here for any of them. “It’s no big deal, Jinyoung. I’m glad I can be here for you.”
Jinyoung cleared his throat and when he looked up, for the first time since he had arrived, you saw the soft hint of a genuine smile on his beautiful lips. He bit his lip shyly, just as the sound of more cheering erupted from the living room. He ran his fingers through his hair sheepishly.
“We should probably go see what’s happening with that game.”
You nodded quietly. “Yeah, we should.”
-----------------
You and Jinyoung settled down on the floor of the living room, backs leaning against the sofa where Mr. Cha and Mr. Kang were sitting. Jinyoung had tried to avoid the overly-energetic old men but there had been no other space left in the crowded room.
“You two were an awfully long time in the kitchen,” Mr. Cha pointed out with a smile.
You raised an eyebrow at the older man playfully. “And what is that supposed to mean, Mr. Cha?”
“I was just saying. It’s been a while since we had a nice wedding in town, is all, and we wouldn’t mind some more little kids running around here and there to keep us older people entertained…” he chuckled to himself, before his wife swatted him and shushed him. You grinned as the smile promptly dropped from the old man’s face.
“All right, all right,” he snapped at her. “I was just saying her mother would have liked to see her have grandkids, that’s all…”
Mrs. Cha glared at her husband. “Don’t make things awkward for these poor kids! Jinyoung’s only just come back now, do you want to tell Mrs. Park that you sent her boy running back to Seoul?”
“Now, why would Jinyoung go running back because of some good-natured teasing, eh?”  
The couple began to bicker lightly and you rolled your eyes, making eye contact with Jinyoung. He had a small smile on his face and his dark eyes widened happily. Jinyoung leaned closer to you. “Oh, that’s right! Your mother! How is she doing? Couldn’t she make it to the party tonight?”
Your stomach lurched sharply.
“W-what?”
Jinyoung blinked at you in confusion. “Your mother. I haven’t seen her at the party. Is she working or something?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You suddenly felt dizzy and lightheaded, as though somebody had hit you in the back of the head. The room plunged into a heavy and awkward silence, with the exception of the soft television noises. Jinyoung’s dark eyes were fixed on you with concern.
When someone finally spoke, it was Mr. Cha, his voice hushed. It was a soft whisper but you heard it as loudly as if someone had screamed it in your ear.
“Jinyoung… her mother passed away. It’s been three years now.”
----------
“Jinyoung! Jinyoung, dear, do you have a minute?”
Jinyoung paused and turned around. He had just been leaving your home after a gruelling study-session. Being in your senior year of high school meant a lot of late-night studying and it was often done at your house. Your mother refused to let you stay over at Jinyoung’s too late at night since the walk back home wasn’t very safe, so Jinyoung came over to your place instead.
Jinyoung smiled at your mother as he tied his shoelaces. “Of course.”
Your mother stepped outside and closed the door behind her, casting a furtive glance behind her to make sure you weren’t listening. “You kids have been… discussing your career plans with your teachers these days, haven’t you? Since your college entrance exams are nearing.”
Jinyoung nodded.
“I heard that you’re, uh, you’re applying for Seoul University and a couple of other colleges in Seoul. Your mother was telling me about that,” she began slowly.
Jinyoung straightened up and hitched his bag over his shoulder. “Yeah. I’m applying to a lot of places in Seoul, just in case. It’s kind of a mess trying to balance all the applications and the studying these days. Is everything okay, Mrs. (L/N)?”
Your mother smiled forcefully. “Of course, of course. Have you heard about (Y/N)? And what her plans for college are?”
“She said that she doesn’t want to apply for colleges in Seoul and that she’d much rather apply for local colleges and then study for a professional qualification exam later,” Jinyoung replied in surprise. He had heard you talk about that many times; it had been your plan for the last two or three months now. “Haven’t you discussed this already?”
“I know, it’s just… I want to be sure that’s what she really wants,” your mother admitted. “You’re a smart boy, Jinyoung. You would know if she wasn’t going on the path she really wanted to be going, wouldn’t you? She doesn’t always share her feelings with me honestly. That’s  why I’m asking you…”
Jinyoung smiled. “She’s been pretty adamant about this for a while now.”
“But you would tell me if she was hiding something?”
“Of course… if that’s what you want,” Jinyoung replied, confused. He gave your mother a small but charming smile. “Don’t worry so much, Mrs. (L/N). I promise I’ll make sure she’s doing what she wants to be doing. Isn’t that what friends are for?”
“I suppose so,” your mother looked a little relieved. “Thank you for always being there for her, especially when I couldn’t be, Jinyoung. It gives me a lot of comfort to know she has you.”
“Of course. I promise I’ll always take care of her,” Jinyoung told your mother solemnly. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll always be there.”
--
170 notes · View notes
viridian-angel · 5 years
Text
Black Pearl [Chapter 2]
Series: Original [Sara]
Genre: Thriller
Characters: Original [Rights Reserved] 
Words: 2,606
[ Prologue / Chapter 1 ]
11:37 PM.
Sara quickly made it back to her headquarters, making a beeline to the room Kentaro and the cat was in with her bag full of kitten-related groceries. Kentaro, in all his huge stature, was currently laid out flat on his back as the cat playfully attacked him here and there– its claws too dull and his skin too thick to really hurt in any way.
“Mm. Hey, boss.” he murmured, a small yawn escaping his lips.
“Hey.”
Sara offered him a small smile, sitting down, rifling through her bag. “I got a decent amount of stuff here. Enough to last a few days, at least. If we end up keeping it we can just get more when it’s not pouring and dark out.”
She took out a paper plate and cracked open a can of food, immediately catching the attention of the feline who darted over to watch it slowly plop onto the plate. Sara laughed and used the lid to spread it around a bit, making it shallow so the cat wouldn’t make a mess of its face trying to eat.
Her smile widened watching it lick its chops before hurriedly eating; but, as it went on, her grin began to falter into a more neutral expression. She took a deep breath in, running her fingers through her bangs. Kentaro pushed himself up into a sitting position, hunched over and watching the cat intently.
“I know that face, boss,” he muttered softly. “You know, it ain’t a good idea to go runnin’ all busy like right after a killin’. You oughta just stay inside and try to relax or process it a bit more.”
He offered a huge hand out to the cat, who turned from its food and gave it more curious sniffs.
“At least, that’s what you told me. No one judges you for doin’ it, but it's still a whole lot for one person to take in, right? You may be our boss, but you’re still human.”
“Yeah. Yeah…”
She leaned back against the wall and stared at the ceiling, rubbing the side of her face with a hand. It’s not that she was expecting tonight to go without a hitch, but there was something off about what was happening. Something she wasn’t being told.
Sara absolutely despised being left in the dark.
“I don’t know, Kentaro. I’ve had a pit in my stomach since this morning. Stress pangs running through my arms. A tightness in my chest. I knew it wouldn’t feel good, but something feels wrong. It should be over and done with. I should be able to simply go to sleep tonight, with a worry knocked out of the way. But no matter what, I can’t get over this bad feeling I got about tonight. Something’s not adding up…”
A long silence between the two hung still in the air.
11:45 PM.
She put her hand out, getting the attention of the cat herself. Sara let it get a good sense of her scent, before gently scratching under its chin and around its neck.
Then, her nail suddenly caught on something.
Her eyes widened a bit, taking a closer look.
“What the hell…?”
She carefully ran her finger to where her nail caught, feeling it out– to the cat’s complaints.
“Kentaro.”
“Yeah, boss?”
“I need some scissors.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
He quickly got up and walked out of the room, returning with a pair of small scissors as Sara continued to inspect the cat’s neck. A black zip tie had been blending into the cat’s fur around its neck.
Kentaro handed the scissors down to her, holding the cat’s body down as gently as he could while Sara carefully snipped the zip tie off. With it, a very small thumb drive fell to the floor, illuminated by a dim, flashing red light inside of it.
Both of them stared down at it for a long, quiet moment, before looking back up at each other with dismay.
“That… can’t be good, can it?” Kentaro whispered.
“I can’t say I like the look of it,” Sara whispered back.
“Should we… plug it in and take a look at it?”
Sara reached out a hand, hesitating before slowly picking it up between two fingers. She eyed it cautiously as she tried to think out a confident answer for him. None seemed to come.
Regardless, she was the one in charge. No room for self-doubt and indecisiveness here.
The cat strutted into Kentaro’s lap as Sara slowly stood up to her full height. A stoic, calm, and certain look on her face. She opened the door, a hand on the frame. Her head turned to look back at him, a confident look in her eyes.
“Fuck no.”
She stepped into the main room, slapping the drive down on the table a bunch of her subordinates were playing poker on.
“Eizou."
“Yeah?” one of them asked, a comparably thin, short man.
“Take a look at this. It’s shady as hell. Is it a bug?”
He took it, bringing it to his face and carefully peering at it.
“Mm… yeah, probably so. It definitely looks like a normal flash drive, but there are some weird wiring and circuitry at the top. No reason it should be on there for any standard USB flash drive. Hell, it’d probably do something real nasty if you even tried to plug it in with all this other shit in the way. If I had to guess, it’s probably a live transmitter, and the USB is just a cover for people to pick it up or somethin’. None of the wirings goes into the actual… well, you know. Flash drive part of it. Nothing we’re saying now would be stored, so… if they heard us, they heard us already.”
11:50 PM.
“Cool,” she said shortly, picking it back up and walking over to one her other subordinates who was on a computer near one of the building’s windows.
“Hey, Kenji. You used to do baseball, right?” she asked, opening the window and squinting from the wind suddenly coming in.
“Jesus– yeah, boss, what’s up?” he asked, shielding his face as he turned to look at her.
“Just want to know how my form is.”
Everyone suddenly turned to her, watching as she eyed up her throw, closing one eye and winding up her arm.
“Shit, boss, you’re not even going to plug it in and give it a shot?” one of them laughed, watching with rapt attention.
“No good comes from mysterious flash drives, games bought at shady garage sales, and creepy dolls found in the garbage. Fuck this thing, watch it go.”
She waited for the wind to die down for even a moment, and immediately whipped it outside of the window as hard as she could, watching it go flying over two different rooftops before disappearing from sight into some alley far away. Sara let out a long whistle, quickly shutting the window and pulling down the blinds. It felt like a weight fell off her shoulders alongside them.
“Pretty good, boss.” Kenji laughed, turning back to the computer screen he was watching.
“Ahhhhh.” Sara sighed, closing her eyes and stretching. “You know, I’m feeling a little more like myself, now. Maybe I can get an early night’s rest. Well, early for me, at least…”
“You aren’t worried about it?” one of the others asked skeptically.
“Nope. That thing is a SEP now, no point in worrying about it. If they heard something important while you guys were yelling about poker, I’m sure we’ll hear about it later.”
“SEP, boss?”
“Somebody else’s problem,” she said with a grin, heading back towards the currently designated cat room. “Just be on your toes for tonight at least, we can look into it more tomorrow.”
11:55 PM.
“Wow, look at that,” Sara laughed, watching as the cat happily rolled around on the floor, Kentaro tickling its belly with his large fingers. “Looks like they’re a whole lot happier without some piece of plastic pinned to their neck.”
“Yeah, seems so, boss.”
Sara took a deep breath, squatting down and absentmindedly watching the cat.
Kentaro’s gaze flicked over to her for a moment, before returning to the current subject of his affection. “Some night, huh, boss?” he asked, his voice in a hushed tone.
“Yeah.” Sara murmured, turning her gaze up and staring at the ceiling. “I just want a good night’s sleep. And maybe a month of business as usual, without having to shoot someone.”
Kentaro nodded solemnly. He couldn’t say he understood how he was feeling– so he didn’t. Sara often took the duty of honor killings herself, as opposed to having the rest of them do it. In all their time, her yakuza family had given out beatings, knocked people out cold, sent people to the hospital– but not one of them, besides Sara herself, had taken a life. They knew she had killed a previous family patriarch in her time; long before any of them had joined up with her.
“I’ve already taken that plunge,” she had told them, “You can’t take back killing someone. Once you’ve done it, that’s it. Whether it was justified or not, it’s going to change you… it becomes just a little easier each time, but I can still feel that hollow feeling in the gut of my stomach every time. I’m never going to ask you to kill for me; so please, if you can avoid it– do so. We can earn our place at the top without you having to kill. It may be justified, it may be needed at times, but I’d never have you do it. Come to me. I’ll take that role for all of us. It’s my duty, now.”
Even now, it still affected her– and all the others could tell, even if they didn’t talk about it directly. She had earned their complete loyalty and trust– Sara ended up being a natural born leader. Even in a system where the thought of a female yakuza on its own was laughable to most, she had risen up the rank of a “patriarch” of her own family. They knew how heavy her role weighed on her, and not one of them would dare to add to it by doubting her strength.
So there she sat, eyes closed, trying to sort through her feelings. It was one thing to kill in the heat of the moment, in self-defense, but going out to find someone, for the explicit person of killing them, always made her skin crawl. She didn’t seek to justify it in her head; she never wanting killing to be easier. She wanted it to feel wrong, to hurt her– in her heart, she felt that the moment it stopped bothering her would be the moment she lost who she was… and what she was doing all of this for in the first place.
“I’ll make this city a place to be proud of one day. No matter what it takes, no matter how far I fall. Just a little longer… and the killing can stop…” she thought to herself, sighing deeply.
11:59:30 PM.
She ran her fingers back through her hair, shaking her head.
11:59:45 PM.
The cat’s ears perked up, going still and looking alert.
12:00 AM.
A sharp whistled sounded out through the air outside, loud enough to hear through closed windows– then, a loud crack followed.
“Kentaro, keep the cat inside. Stay here.” she ordered, jumping up and dashing out the door towards the windows. She was immediately greeted by a blinding, scarlet light outside, falling through the air.
“Who the hell is popping flares out in this city?” a family member asked, shielding his eyes.
“That’s stronger than a normal flare…” Sara muttered squinting to try to keep an eye out on what was happening.
There was a period of silence as the light fell back down to the city streets– the rain eerily paused in its loud downpour with it.
Then, the unmistakable, thunderous crack of a gunshot in the distance. Followed by another, and more ahead of it.
“What the hell…?”
Her eyes were open wide, fingers twitching.
“Boss, what’s… what’s going on?” someone nervously asked behind her, unused to seeing her so worked up.
“I… I don’t know,” she said quietly, frozen in place as she saw the streets a couple of blocks away light up with gunshot after gunshot. “There… there hasn’t been a clan feud in months… there shouldn’t be… what’s…?”
She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to shut down. She had people in her care now. If she couldn’t lead in unsure times like this, she was in no shape to have her own family.
“Everyone– we’re locking down for the night,” she stated firmly, balling her hands into fists. “That’s an order. Hit the shades.”
Eizou ran over to one of the computers and hit a command shortcut with the keyboard, a loud rumbling emanating from within the building’s walls. Heavy sheets of metal crawled across the windows, shutting out the chaos outside.
“All of you, stay inside. If the shit outside hits here, leave. I don’t care if we lose everything in this building– money can’t replace your lives. Got it?”
They all nodded in confirmation, the atmosphere dripping with tension as opposed to only a few minutes ago.
“I’m going out.”
“Wait, boss, hold up–” Eizou interrupted, “One of us can go out instead. Get a look around, figure out what’s happening, and come back. You don’t have to…” he trailed off, his voice catching in his throat. “We don’t even know what’s happening out there– what if you get hurt?”
Sara paused in her tracks, everyone’s gaze falling onto her.
“Eizou,” she said calmly, walking over and clapping a strong hand onto his shoulder. “This city has murderers and thieves– but an outright gunfight between people is rare. There are still people out there in the streets, trying to close their shops and go home to their family. Kids who snuck out past their curfew. The homeless, huddled under the cover of alleyways to get away from the freezing rain. I don’t know what’s happening, but if no one comes out to stop it, innocent civvies are going to get hurt. They might be getting hurt right now. And we both know… the cops around here certainly aren’t going to put a stop to it.”
He shook in place, eyes glued to the ground and hissing through his teeth. “Maybe, but it isn’t your job to…”
“Eizou…” she said again, grabbing his face with both of her hands and turning his head to look at her. “I won’t die. I can’t die.”
She let go of him, walking away back towards the stairs– before pausing a gun, turning her head just enough to barely meet all of their gazes.
“As long I’m carrying the hopes and dreams of all of you on my back, not even a hundred bullets could put a stop to me. Be back soon.”
They all watched in rapt silence as she turned back to the staircase, and calmly walked down to the front door– letting herself out and locking it behind her.
She looked up to the sky, flickers of light splashing against the black clouds rolling over. Sara squinted her eyes as the rain starting to fall again, her hands in her pockets as she took one more deep breath.
“An omen, or an old friend…?” she asked rhetorically to the uncaring sky. “I hope you can wash all the blood off these poor streets before the night is over….”
17 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 6 years
Text
Don’t You Love Me? 9- Darling, I Can’t Seem To Quit [Steve Rogers x Reader]
Tumblr media
A.N.: Your feedback makes me so happy and helps me write faster, please keep it coming! <3
Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff.
Warnings: Drinking, mentions of addiction, self destructive behavior, cussing, explicit language, mentions of sex.
Summary: Past never stays in the past.
Word Count: 3659
Read Chapter 1 here!
Read Chapter 2 here!
Read Chapter 3 here!
Read Chapter 4 here!
Read Chapter 5 here!
Read Chapter 6 here!
Read Chapter 7 here!
Read Chapter 8 here! 
The beautiful moodboard is made by fictionwillneverdie
Gif’s not mine!
Tumblr media
How was it that after years on the run, his voice still managed to give you goosebumps and made you fill with an urge to run away?
It didn’t matter where you’d run. Anywhere but there. Anywhere that he couldn’t get in contact with you, anywhere-
Wishful fucking thinking. There was no way you’d ever get somewhere he couldn’t get to you.
You could feel the panic roaring through your system and you clenched your fists, trying to pull yourself together. You felt like you would actually pass out from fear because the room was spinning around you in full pace and your legs felt way too weak, but you managed to open your eyes and blink fast in order to get your vision back before digging your fingernails into your palms.
“Don’t call me that, asshole.”
Thank God your voice was stronger than how you felt.
He tsk tsked. “Denial gets you nowhere, Y/N. I thought I taught you that.”
You bit inside your cheek hard enough to make it bleed, then turned around. He looked just like how you remembered him, even his arrogant smirk hadn’t changed. His hair was shorter but the way his eyes shone with that dangerous light was exactly the same.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Tony spoke for the first time as Steve took a step towards you, as if he wanted to come closer to make you feel better, stronger even. You grabbed your phone, typing in the password, then stole a look at the computer beside you.
“I’m Trent,” he smiled, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark. I heard so much about you,”
“Well that makes it awkward, because I didn’t hear anything about you,” Tony stated, frowning deeply and Natasha walked towards you to stand by your side, as if trying to console you.
“I see that you’re good friends with my wife-”
“I’m not your wife,” You stated, focused on your phone and Trent chuckled.
“We got married-“
“Did we though?” You looked up from the phone and raised your brows, “Show me documentation. It doesn’t exist.”
Trent’s jaw clenched, “Well, that’s because someone hacked into the state’s system and deleted the electronic copy-“
“Yeah, someone…”
“And because of an unfortunate accident on the same day, the hard copies caught fire.”
“Unfortunate accident, yeah. They never found the person, did they?”
Trent looked as if he had tasted something sour for a second, “Nope. Unfortunately.”
“Okay, full offense, you look like a dickhead-”
“Tony!” Pepper whispered and Tony shrugged,
“He does. He got this whole Bond Villain thing going on, do you have a cat too? A spinning leather chair? Why were you trying to steal my files, Trent?”
“You were getting too close,” Trent smiled, “I thought I could introduce myself. After all, we’re both businessmen, aren’t we? We know how business wor- Y/N, it’s rude to be on your phone while we’re talking.”
You ignored him until you punched in the code, then looked up,
“Look at the computer on your right.”
“I’m sorry-?”
“What, did you think you were the only person who has been keeping tabs, fuckhead? Look at the computer on your right.”
Trent turned his head and frowned, “I’m sorry, are you actually pointing a satellite at me?”
“Your office is still in that skyscraper you own, isn’t it?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t try me, you compensating motherfucker.”
“You can hack a satellite?” Tony mumbled and you shrugged, still holding the phone tight.
“You can’t?”
“Speaking of that,” Trent said, “Keeping tabs. I gotta say, I don’t approve your past time activities.”
“There’s a solution for that, you should go and fuck yours-“
“All those people you’ve been sleeping with…” he tsk tsked “And now I find out that you’ve been seeing Captain America.”
And just like that, the room went silent.
"It's nice to finally meet you Cap." 
"Can't say the same, son."  Steve spoke for the first time, and unlike how you felt, his voice was under control, as if everything was okay. 
As if there was nothing wrong.
His calmness had a hint of authority in it, and that was more than enough to send a shiver down your spine. 
Okay, what the fuck? 
You really weren't supposed to be turned on right now. 
Trent's eyebrows rose, "I see," he said "Let's skip the small talk then." 
"Let's."
"Steve, don't-" 
"Sunshine, I am talking here." Trent cut you off and your eyes narrowed, the fury spreading through you. 
"You piece of-" 
"You're looking for trouble, Mr. Rogers." Trent cut you off, "I'd thread carefully." 
Steve smiled calmly and crossed his arms "I'm guessing your understanding of threading carefully means hiding behind a screen."  He stated “Like a coward.”
Trent's smile faded and Natasha shook her head. 
"You need to give me this guy’s address so that I can teach him some manners…" She muttered into your ear and you pursed your lips as Trent gritted his teeth, glaring at Steve before turning to you.
"You wanna know what I think, Y/N?"
You looked up at the screen "Not really Trent, no one fucking cares what you think." 
"I think you're doing it on purpose." Trent said "You went and found the one guy whom you knew I wouldn't stand, because you wanted to get my attention."
"Yeah asshole, because my whole life revolves around getting your attention." 
"You're trying my patience, sunshine. You know what happens when you do that." 
And just like that, all the muscles in your body clenched and the panic started bubbling at the pit of your stomach. The memories flooded your brain so fast that it almost made you wince but you managed to keep your expression as still as you could.
"I'll be in touch with you, Mr. Stark. We're interested in a program your company currently possesses, and I'd like to talk to you about that."
"Sorry, I don't do business with people my friends don't approve, and it’s obvious Y/N doesn’t approve you." 
"You haven't heard of our offer yet."
"Not interested." 
"You will be." Trent said as you felt something cold touching your shoulder and you flinched before you saw Bucky, squeezing your shoulder as if trying to assure you everything was fine. 
"Y/N?"
"Fuck off Trent." 
Trent smiled again "I'll see you really soon. We'll catch up, okay sunshine?" He nodded at Steve "It’ll be over his grave, so wear something nice." 
With that, the screen went dark and the room around you started spinning faster, panic flooding your system.
“Fuck this shit,” You managed to say, then grabbed your bag and stormed out of the room. 
                                         *
"Y/N, I'm serious, you need to stop." Jake said as he sat down across from you. Unlike before, you weren’t by the bar, but this time you had got yourself a table, figuring that less people would disturb you.
No such luck.
"You need to fuck off." You told Jake as you filled yourself another glass and he eyed you up and down.
"I'm cutting you off."
"Do I need to threaten you again?" 
"Threaten me all you want. You downed one full bottle, I'm surprised you can even see straight-"
"Listen, I'm not in the mood," you said, "Go back to work, and leave me alone." 
"What happened?"
You slammed the glass down "Leave me the fuck alone!" You snapped and he looked taken aback for a second before he licked his lips. 
"Don't leave okay? I'll take you home when I’m done."
"I'm not going home."
"To the Avengers Tower then." 
"I'm not going there either. What part of leave me alone don't you get?" 
"Y/N, you can't-"
"Thank you Jake," both you and Jake turned your heads when you heard a voice "I'll take it from here." 
You had no idea whether it was due to whiskey in your system or Steve was actually there, at the sleazy bar. Unlike how you felt, he looked as if everything was under control as he shed his brown leather jacket and rolled up his sleeves while Jake stood up and Steve sat down next to you.
"And a glass please." 
"You don't drink." You mumbled at Steve who shrugged. 
"I don't get drunk, there's a difference." 
You pursed your lips as Jake brought Steve a glass.
“Here, sir.”
“Thank you,” Steve said as he filled it, and Jake walked away. You raised your brows, watching him.
"You drank all of it by yourself?" He asked as he lifted the almost empty bottle and you nodded silently, looking down at the glass. 
"Yeah." 
"We gotta introduce you to Thor." 
"You should leave." You muttered, turning the glass between your hands. You couldn't take it, him being all perfect, not right now. 
"Why's that doll?" 
The sweet nickname made you pause at the warmth spreading through you but only for a second. 
"You know why,” You answered fractiously and he shrugged again,
"Not how it works." 
"I can tell you something that could make you run away."
"Hm, and what is that?" 
You gulped and reached into your pocket to pull the very small bag filled with drugs. You held it up, waiting for him to go away but he only clenched his jaw before his intense gaze fell on you. 
"I didn't… take any." You muttered "I haven’t, yet- I've just... I've been considering it for the last two hours." 
Steve extended his hand silently, motioning for you to give it and you tilted your head. 
"I'm not good with authority, Cap." 
"You would've taken them already if you really wanted to.”
“Yeah well, maybe I’m still considering-”
“Y/N,” his voice was gentle, “That's not the solution, you know that." 
You gritted your teeth and hesitated for a second before you placed the tiny plastic bag into his palm. 
"Where did you even get them?" 
You shrugged "I have a past, so..." You bit on your lip "You should bail." 
"What?" 
"You've heard what he-" you swallowed "He's coming for me, Steve." 
“Let him. We’ll be ready.”
You chuckled bitterly, “We?”
“Yeah, all of us. Me, Bucky- Buck hated him too by the way- and Tony, and have you seen Nat? I mean if I were him, I’d be more terrified of Nat more than all of us combined. She will place his head on a freaking stick, I’m just hoping she will let me watch.”
You wiped at your nose with the back of your hand, “You don’t know him.” You mumbled, “You don’t know what he’s capable of, I just…” Your voice cracked, “I don’t want to be here anymore, I want to go home.”
“Okay, let’s-“
“Not to my apartment. Home.”
Steve paused, “Where’s that?”
You sniffled and twirled the glass around, watching tiny droplets move, “Somewhere he won’t-“ you cleared your throat, “Somewhere safe. There’s no such a thing anymore, is there?”
“Come to the Tower with me.”
You shook your head, “They’ll have questions and I don’t want to talk to anyone. Besides Tower isn’t safe either.”
“I’ll be there, Y/N. Trust me, it’s safe.”
“Yeah well, he could still get me-“
“Over my dead body.”
“Yeah Steve, that was his plan, weren’t you listening?” You put the glass down to see him better but he didn’t look worried at all.
“He’s not gonna kill me.”
You gritted your teeth, “You missed the part where he failed to mention his last name then?”
“What’s his-“
“Besides, I don’t-“ You motioned at him, “I don’t deserve this whole thing. I- I hacked you.”
“Hacked me?”
“Got into your phone, pried into your privacy. I know stuff about you that you don’t think I know- I even went through your google searches – sex on the beach is really a drink by the way, want me to order that or will you leave before that?”
“Y/N, why would I leave?”
“Damn it, Steve-” you shook your head, “I wasn’t supposed to do that, okay? That’s- that’s like really rude and Fury told me not to, and I did it anyway-“
“You know, I got into lots of fights back in forties,” Steve cut you off, “Bucky kept telling me not to. I did it anyway.”
“Nice to know some things don’t change.”
“The point is,” Steve said, “Sometimes you just can’t do what people tell you to do. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person, it just means you have your own rules.”
You stared at the glass for a couple of seconds as you tried to pull yourself together.
“I don’t…” you mumbled, “I don’t want anyone to lay a finger on me. That’s my rule now.”
Steve nodded slowly, “May I help you establish that rule, then?”
You could feel the sob climbing to your throat so you just nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face to his rock hard chest. He held you tight, as if you would disappear if he didn’t, and pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair. You stayed like that for almost a minute, in silence, wrapped in the scent of him before you felt him rubbing your back, shivers coming back with full force.
“Come on doll. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
                                          *
You hugged Steve’s brown leather jacket tighter around your body, trying to inhale his cologne as discreetly as you could while you followed him up the stairs. For some reason, your heart was still slamming against your ribcage as you thought about the possibilities, but you chastised yourself in your head, since when were you getting nervous around guys?
“Steve, Fury called-“ you heard Sharon’s voice and you froze on your tracks, holding the handrail tight, unsure whether you should take those last steps but Sharon, being a well-trained agent immediately sensed your presence and turned her head. She paused only for a second before she looked between you and Steve, her eyebrows raised.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company,” she said, leaning back to her open door, “It’s Y/N, right? I saw you in SHIELD headquarters before.”
You tried to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, but jacket’s sleeves were too long for that so you just ended up brushing the sleeve against your hair, “Yeah. Hi.”
“What did Fury say?” Steve asked as he unlocked his door and you climbed up the last two steps, still feeling like you were intruding in a way. Sharon stole a look at you before she smiled at Steve.
“Nothing that can’t wait,” she said calmly, “Have a nice night. Nice to meet you, Y/N.”
“Um- yeah totally, you too.”
Awkward…
She closed the door behind her as you approached Steve, then stepped inside his apartment, looking around. He followed you suit and closed the door before switching on the light, and you bit on your lip.
“What would the neighbors think just got much more serious.” You mumbled, making him chuckle.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You sure she’ll be fine with it? I don’t wanna-“ You shrugged slightly, “Fuck shit up.”
That seemed to make him smile while you followed him deeper into his apartment. It was a nice and cozy apartment, Steve’s characteristics reflecting on objects here and there. There were couple of framed black and white photos on the walls –who even framed photos anymore?-  and his shield was leaned against the wall, as if he had just remembered not to take it with him on his way out. A few books about World War II were scattered on the coffee table and on the corner, he had a phonograph.
“There’s nothing going on.”
“Hm?” You turned your head “What?”
“With- uh…With Sharon. There’s nothing like that.”
You scoffed, “She wants to jump on you.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, as if taken back by your outspokenness, “I’m sure you’re wrong.”
“Women can sense that shit, Rogers.” You muttered as you looked out the window. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. When was the last time you ate something?”
“I drank whiskey,”
Steve shot you a reprimanding look, “As in actual food?”
You thought for a second, “Can we make popcorn?”
“...That’s- Y/N, that’s not actual food.”
“It’s my comfort food,” You shrugged, and he looked like he would say no, then shook his head slightly, as if annoyed at himself for giving in. He made his way to the open kitchen and you shamelessly eyed him up and down, and leaned to the kitchen island.
“Sorry about tonight.”
Steve looked at you over his shoulder for a second before he spilled some popcorn into the pot, “What’re you talking about?”
“You know what,” You muttered, dragging your fingernails on the smooth surface, “Everything. I’m sure- I’m sure you have questions-“
“I don’t.”
You frowned, “What?”
“I don’t have any questions. Whenever you want to tell me, you’ll tell me.”
For some reason, that was more than enough to make tears fill your eyes and yet, you found yourself smiling before you took a shaky breath, pulling your phone out of your pocket.
“You know, I made my research. A little.”
“Hm?”
“About how dates worked in 1940s.” You touched the phone and the music filled the room, making him turn his attention to you.
“…And you’re supposed to dance on a date.” You held out your hand and he shot you a look, then shook his head, as if he was embarrassed all of a sudden.
“I’m not a good dancer.”
“And I’m drunk as fuck Steve, we make the perfect pair.”
“I don’t even know this song.”
“It’s my sex song- I’m joking!” You pulled at his hand, “Come on. It’s not very gentleman like to turn down a girl’s dance request, you know. What would forties’ etiquette say?”
He heaved a sigh but let you pull him closer and his arm sneaked around your waist, making you giggle. The soft popping sounds of popcorn filled the air along with the music and you bit on your lip as he swayed you, then you looked up at him as he entwined his fingers with yours.
“What?” he asked gently and you shrugged,
“You’re really pretty, Rogers.”
A faint pinkness adorned his cheekbones, making you smile but he played it cool,
“I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”
“Sucks to be you.” You muttered, “Why aren’t you running for the hills, Cap?”
“Never been the type.” he said silently, as if the minute he talked louder, the magic would disappear. You couldn’t help to smile.
“But you know I’m trouble, right?”
“Oh definitely.”
“That doesn’t scare you?”
“Nah,” he shrugged, “Buck says I have a thing for trouble anyway. Why bother proving him wrong? I’d never hear the end of it.”
You could barely feel him pulling your body closer to his as your heartbeat got faster, and for a second it worried you that he could hear it. You didn’t know why, but you were much, much more nervous around him than any other person, and yet it didn’t make you uncomfortable. It was the same feeling as you had riding a rollercoaster, excitement filled with glee.
“You should check the popcorn.” You muttered and the corners of his lips turned upwards.
“It can wait,” he muttered, his breath warm on your lips and you closed your eyes as you saw him leaning in, excitement washing over you, making your heartbeat go crazy but you were snapped out of your bliss before his lips could even touch yours.
“Rogers!” Natasha’s voice was accompanied by the pounding on the door, “You came back home? Seriously?”
You opened your eyes when you heard Steve’s impatient sigh, as if he was as annoyed as you were.
“What is this music?” You heard Bucky’s voice and a small laugh escaped your lips.
“Is it normal to hate your friends sometimes?” You wondered out loud as Steve pulled back.
“Sorry about this,” he said and made his way to door, then opened it. From the sounds of it, Bucky had just walked in and Natasha was on the phone, following him.
“Guys…”
“Yeah, me neither Pepper.” She said and Bucky heaved a sigh.
“I thought you were outside looking for-“
“Hey there Barnes.” You walked to hall and waved at him, while Steve looked between you,
“Y/N?” Natasha said as soon as she saw you, still on the phone, “No- Pepper, she’s fine, we’re at Steve’s place. No no- you don’t have to-” She stopped talking as Pepper probably hung up and Bucky cleared his throat, as if he didn’t know what to say.
“Your ex husband is a prick.”
Steve shut his eyes for a second, as if praying for patience and you pursed your lips, then nodded and threw up a peace sign.
“Word, man.”
“Potts is coming by to see if you’re okay,” Natasha held up her phone, as if now realizing she had interrupted something, her expression full of regret. “So Tony is probably coming too, to drop her off. Sorry.”
“O- oh? Good-”
“Did we…interrupt something?”
You exchanged glances with Steve, who looked as lost as you were,
“Nah you didn’t,” You waved a hand in the air dismissively and Steve seemed to get the clue because he shook his head fervently.
“No, not really.”
“Yeah nothing was happening.”
“Sure, just… you know. Nothing.”
A silence fell upon all of you and you could tell that neither Bucky nor Natasha bought your lies, but in the end, Bucky heaved a sigh.
“Well since we ruined something, we might as well eat the popcorn.” Bucky said as he and Natasha walked past you and you leaned your back to the wall, huffing out a curt laughter.
“Come on then Cap,” You pushed yourself off the wall as Steve let out an impatient whine, throwing his head back “Good things come to those who wait.”
Chapter 10 is here! 
A.N: Now repeat after me: I’ll leave feedback because Dream loves feedback! ❤️ 😂  
Special thanks go to:  @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @astanwehave @girlwhoisfearless @fictionwillneverdie @lilywoood @marss-anonymous @icameforthefanfiction @pandalandalopalis @barnesrogersvstheworld @evolutionofkatep  @lostkizzy @reallyconfusednow @miss-jen-winter @fandomcrazie @latibulemark @aikeji @dans-les-details  @evanstar @thatprofessionalfangirl  @minuialeth75 @optimisticheartyouth @laffers18@kiwngsoo  @myrabbitholetoneverland @itsyaboyo @avengemebuckyy @freightcarcap @stargeek727 aestheticimagines @kerishet @fangirlbookworm @samwinchxtr @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked  @marauderskeeper  @whogaveuspermission  @thewhinersoldier @iamthemaskhewears @sasunarushiita @whatiswrongwithpeople @mischievous-fairy @agent-smoak @allison-rosewood-maximoff @petrashappyplace @swtltlmrvlgrl @imalittlebean @hey-garrett-shut-up @ruffdog921 @hogwarts-and-houseplants @go-crybaby @danielhowellstolemycamera @zabeth716 @imaginecrushes @miss-jen-winter @attorneyl @missmidnightxo @renesmeeharelds , @sippinpeachtea@skeletoresinthebasement @birdandrose @dark-princesse @local-space-ace  @bva14 @broken-pieces yourwittywitch @yasssssvictoria @dreamsofcaliforniaadventure @hista-girl @im-only-slightly-psycho @meashy-moo@themessthatismymind soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @nininstinct@charlie1987me @imyxtay @owhatshername1  @raiymaj  and lovely anons! Without you, I wouldn’t be able to write this, you’re amazing! <3
1K notes · View notes
deamstellarus · 6 years
Text
Of Twinkling Lights and Mistletoe
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: The best Christmas ever.
Word Count: 3994
Warnings: The fluff...may kill you. (Also there’s a slight sad part at the beginning and some minor implied smut mixed in.)
A/N: This is probably my favorite part/chapter in this entire series. I REALLY hope you enjoy it! ❤
Series Masterlist | Of Apple Pie and Family
◾◽◾◽◾◽◾
December 2018
“Hey, Doll. I, uh, I know it’s been a while since I’ve talked to you, but things have been developing and I’m needing a bit of guidance… It’s Y/N, she’s come to see you before. You know, beautiful eyes, soft hair, about this tall,” he held his hand up to about your height. “She’s, well...I didn’t think I would find someone after you, I never wanted to find someone after you. But she stumbled into our lives, mine and Noah’s. Well, Noah’s first - I swear he inherited your outgoing personality. She makes me happy and she fits in so well. And with Noah, Doll, you would be so happy with how she treats our son. Like he’s her own. She’s not replacing you, I don’t want that and neither does she, I know her. But she loves him too, and me, and I just…” 
He sighed, his breath visible in the cold December air. He toed the snow around his boots, not sure what he expected out of this.
“I guess I just wanted your approval, to know it’s okay to be happy with her. I’m, uh, I have this,” he pulled out the little box from the jewelry store in Michigan that’s been burning a hole in his pocket for a little over a month. “I’d planned on doing it in a few days, on Christmas. Cliche, I know, but I just thought it would make it special… I’ll always love you, Dot. But I love her too, and I think… I think maybe it’s time I take the next step. Is that alright?” He paused and looked around, waiting for an unknown sign. After a minute, he shook his head, lightly chuckling at himself. 
“Rest easy, Doll, I’ll be seeing you again.”
Bucky kneeled in the snow and placed the long-stemmed red rose at the foot of the headstone. Gently, he rubbed his thumb over the top of the smooth stone, before standing up and turning on his heel. He was three steps away when a sudden gust of wind swept up behind him and his hat blew off his head and landed several feet away. When he went to retrieve it, there was a rose petal underneath it. He held it between his fingers and looked up at the sky, deciding that was the sign from her that she approved.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Steve opened his door at the insistent knocking, and all but jumped out of the way as Bucky barged inside with Noah following behind.
“Well hello to you too, Buck.” Steve rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to Noah. “What’s up, little man?”
“Hi Uncle Steve. Does Aunt Peggy have anymore brownies left?”
“That’s some sweet tooth you’ve got there. I think there are some on a plate on the counter. Why don’t you go check it out and I’ll join you after I talk to your dad?”
“Mkay!” He raced to the kitchen.
“Don’t eat them all!” Steve yelled after him, only to be met with giggles.
His head turned back to where his best friend lay on the couch.
“Alright, Bucky, talk.”
“I don’t know how to propose. I thought I did, I got the ring like I told you I would.” Bucky fished said ring out of his pocket and held it up for Steve to see. It was beautiful and elegant and a little bit quirky, and so very you, that Steve knew he had help.
“Did her mom help you?”
“Her sister, Liz. I asked her dad for her hand- out of courtesy, I know how much her family means to her. Then her dad, brother-in-law, and I went to a store in town and browsed. I texted Liz several pictures and she helped me decide,” Bucky said, all while staring at the ceiling, looking like a mess of emotions.
“Smart, not getting it here. Tony’s a great guy but he’s definitely the biggest gossip in this town, and he wouldn’t have held back if you walked into his jewelry store.”
“Yeah, but how do I ask? I wanted to ask on Christmas. Is that too cliche though? She’s not really the cliche type? Oh hell, what if she doesn’t say yes and I’ve put her on the spot in front of all of our friends?” Bucky groaned. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”
“Bucky, get a grip. When you think about proposing, where do you imagine you are?” Bucky took so long to reply Steve thought he’d fallen asleep.
“I can’t picture a place, or any of the surroundings. I just see her.” Steve smiled at his friend.
“Well then, pal, I don’t think it matters how or when you tell her, you just have to do it.”
“I think...I think I’m going to stick to Christmas, with all of our friends. It’s not the whole town, but it’s the important people.” Bucky turned his head to look at Steve. “What do you think?”
“I think that sounds great.” Steve stood up. “I’m going to go stop your son from eating all of Pegs’ brownies.”
“Please do, I’m taking him to his friend Peter’s house in an hour and his aunt would kill me if I sent him over on a sugar high.”
Steve laughed as he walked into the kitchen but stopped abruptly when he ran into Noah by the entryway.
“What’s up, Little Man?”
“How does someone propose to someone else?” Noah said. Steve was taken aback. Did he know Bucky was going to propose to you? He was ninety percent sure he’d just eavesdropped on their conversation.
“Well… when two people love each other, one person will usually buy a ring and they tell them all of the things they love about them and ask them an important question.”
“Oh, okay.” That’s it? Steve thought that was too easy.
“Why do you ask? You thinkin’ about proposing to someone?” Steve teased.
“Yep!”
“Wait, really?” This was definitely news to Steve. “Who is the lucky lady? Or fellow?”
“I can’t tell you, Uncle Steve. It’s a secret!”
“Okay, Buddy. Anything, I can, uh, do to help?” Because he was nosier than he would ever admit aloud and it would be great to tell Bucky all about Noah’s little friend… if he could ever get the details out of him that is.
“Nope!” He said, sipping on a glass of milk. “Well actually, can you help me wrap it?”
Bingo!
“Sure thing, buddy. When do you want me to help you?”
“Can we do it now?” That brought Steve’s eyebrows to his hairline.
“You have a ring with you?”
“Yeah,” Noah said, pulling something out of his jacket pocket. In his hand was a little clear plastic ball with a purple plastic ring inside. It was the cutest thing Steve had ever seen, if he were being honest. He coughed back a chuckle.
“Where did you get that, Noah?”
“From Mr. Tony’s diner.”
“Ah, I see. Alright, well I’m going to go grab some wrapping paper from my room. Be right back, Little Man!”
Steve sped past where Bucky laid on the couch.
“Hey, hey, hey. Where are you going?” Bucky called out, then followed Steve to his room when he didn’t get a response. “What are you doing?”
“Getting some wrapping paper.”
“Okay, I’ll bite… Why?”
“Because, Noah’s got a girlfriend! Or boyfriend. I don’t know. Either way, you’re not the only one proposing this holiday season!” Steve beamed, visions of a miniature kid wedding danced through his head.
“Wait, what?!”
“That was...” Bucky started, as he laid back in bed, trying to catch his breath.
“Incredible,” you finished, sighing happily.
“Yeah,” he smiled back at you, holding your hand. “I’m so glad Becs wanted him to spend the night last night.” You nodded in agreement.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Casanova.” You rolled onto your side, grinning as the blush rose to his cheeks. “Dinner, Christmas lights, that mistletoe…”
“Oh, that mistletoe. Best holiday tradition yet.” Bucky smiled fondly at the memory.
“You look amazing, Doll.” You turned around to see Bucky watching you from the bathroom doorway as you fastened your earring to your ear. You were wore a forest green A-line dress with black tights and planned on wearing your black ankle boots to give you a bit more height.
“Thanks, Buck,” you said as your eyes ran over his form. He wore a deep red sweater and dark jeans that made his ass look even better. He gave you a lopsided smile when he caught you staring.
“We should get going if we want to make our reservations.”
“You’re right sorry. Just about done here.” You swiped on your go-to red lipstick and grabbed your purse. “Ready dear.”
You slipped on your shoes and he helped you into your coat after shrugging into his own leather jacket, and you were out the door. It had been a while since you two were out together, just the two of you. It felt nice, romantic, and you were giddy with the attention.
Dinner was wonderful, Bucky having taken you to an Italian restaurant in Portage. You split dessert, a tiramisu you wished was available in Aster Falls. Afterward, you walked down several streets, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s company and the twinkling lights that now lined the city’s streets. Later, you drove back to Aster Falls, your hand in his as he drove through the snowy landscape.
Bucky pulled into the parking lot for your apartment building. You headed inside, Bucky’s arm around your shoulder. The second you stepped into the elevator, his lips were on your neck. You looked up and laughed.
“What’s so funny, Doll,” he mumbled into your skin.
“Mistletoe.” Bucky pulled back, looking up, and sure enough there was a mistletoe taped to the ceiling.
“Well, what do you know. Who are we to disagree with tradition.” His lips met yours, all the way up to your door, through your apartment, and into your bedroom. For the rest of the evening, your body was his, and his was yours. And you were tangled in the sheets for the remainder of the night, curled together afterwards when you were both blissed out. Which brought you to this morning, when you woke to kisses down your spine in the soft morning light.
“We should probably get ready and give your sister a break. It’s Christmas Eve after all, and I’m sure Noah has been bouncing off the walls since we dropped him off yesterday,” you said, your fingers grazing through the short scruff on his face.
“Do we have to?” He pouted, poking his bottom lip out, looking oh so adorable. “Five more minutes?”
“Yeah, I think we can do that.” You scooted closer to him, resting your head on his chest. His arms went around you and you settled into the comfortable silence once more, knowing ‘five more minutes’ would turn out to be much longer.
“Wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas!”
“What time is it?” Bucky said, rolling over in bed. His voice was gravelly from sleep. His hand around your waist tightened its hold. You cracked an eye open and looked around, remembering you were not at home in the cozy apartment but, in fact, in a guest room at the Barnes’ house. You peeked at the clock, softly groaning when you read the numbers.
“Too early.” You snuggled closer to him, your back to his front, trying to leach his warmth.
“I’d say we have about three minutes before he drags us out of here, Doll.” His breath tickled your neck.
“Mmm, alright. Three minutes, I can do that.”
That hope was quickly diminished when not thirty seconds later, Noah crashed landed on the two of you, breaking the sleepy spell you were under.
“Daddy! Y/N! It’s Christmas!” Noah shouted excitedly. Bucky chuckled quietly.
“It sure is, bud. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Noah Bear,” you said, sitting up.
“Can we go open presents now?”
“No, no, no. You know the rules, you can open one present this morning, but you have to wait until this afternoon with everyone else to open up the rest,” Bucky said.
“Fine,” Noah pouted.
“Hey, now, no grumpy faces. That’s not very jolly,” you said, smoothing the hair on his head.
“Sorry.”
“It’s alright, bud. Why don’t you go watch cartoons in the living room and we’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“Okay.” You watched as he climbed off the bed and shut the door behind him.
“What are you still doing up there?” Bucky said. You glanced down at his relaxed form.
“Hm?”
“Come here.” He rolled over, his arm returning to your waist, and pulled you down to meet your lips to his. You felt him smile after a moment.
“Merry Christmas, Doll.”
“Merry Christmas James.”
“James, dear, your friends are here!” Bucky’s mom called out as the doorbell chimed.
She opened the door and in stepped the whole group with arms full of presents. Steve had his arm around Peggy, newly wed and happy. Sam carrying a pie with a smiling Mrs. Wilson on his arm. Wanda and Natasha had their arms linked together while a sleep-walking Clint trailed behind them. An excited Thor and an unimpressed Loki brought up the rear of the group. Everyone important in Bucky’s life was here today and he couldn’t be more excited...or nervous.
“It’s about time you got here. Noah’s been bouncing off the walls waiting to open presents,” Bucky said, giving hugs to everyone as they stepped in from the cold.
“You can blame this one for holding us up,” Nat said, jerking her thumb at Clint. “It seemed to be his mission not to wake up this morning.”
“Where’s Y/N?” Wanda piped up.
“In the kitchen with Noah and Becca, frosting cookies.”
“Yumm!” Wanda and Nat headed straight to the kitchen with Mrs. Barnes and Mrs. Wilson in tow. The rest of the group spread out between the kitchen to sneak treats or settling in on the couches in the living room.
Steve slapped a hand onto Bucky’s shoulder as he shut the door.
“So, are you ready?” Steve said lowly, so that only Bucky could hear.
“Yes. No… Yes.” Bucky sighed. “I’ve done this before… I really don’t remember being this nervous.”
“Well it was a given before. You and Dot had been together for years. Everyone knew you were going to get married sooner or later.”
“Do you think it’s too soon? It’s too soon, isn’t it?” Bucky struggled to look normal while the panic started to set in.
“Hey, no. Stop. You’re fine.” Steve had both hands on Bucky’s shoulder now. “Sure you haven’t been with Y/N for years, but anyone alive could tell you that you’re perfect together. You know it, I know it… I’m sure even Dot’s even agreeing as we speak. Take a deep breath, relax. You’ve still got some time to figure out what you’re going to say. It’s gonna be fine, you’ll see.”
With that, he patted Bucky on the back and headed toward the fireplace, where Peggy was looking at the Christmas cards on the mantle. Steve was right. He was right a lot, not that Bucky would ever tell him. But he was right, and Bucky was stressing out for no reason.
However he asked today, he knew in his heart, at least he hoped, that you would say yes.
“We’ve only got two more presents and then I think that wraps up Christmas 2018!” Mr. Barnes said.
Bucky pecked you on the forehead before he abruptly stood up and headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” you asked.
“Forgot a gift upstairs, I’ll be right back!” You watched as Bucky disappeared up the stairs, shaking your head at his forgetfulness.
“Looks like this one is for Loki,” Becca said, as she crawled underneath the tree, “and this one is for Y/N.” She plopped Loki’s present into his lap and lightly tossed your gift to you.
“You can open yours first, I don’t mind,” you said, your interest taking over at what could possibly be underneath the mass of colorful wrapping paper. He nodded and tore at the paper, cracking a small smile when a kids’ magic set was revealed.
“You’re an absolute child.” Loki playfully glared at his brother across the room.
“Come now, brother, I’m not the one with a kids’ toy with my name on it,” Thor laughed, the smile reached his eyes.
You hid your giggle behind your hand, while others (ahem, Sam and Clint) were practically in tears.
“You’re next, Bunny.”
You stuck your tongue out at Sam then turned your attention to the gift in your hand. You took a moment to examine it, the red and green paper wrapped so nicely around such a tiny thing. You were supposed to guess who it was from but with the bouncing seven-year old next to you, it wasn’t hard to assume.
“This is from you, huh?” He nodded excitedly. “Did you wrap it all by yourself?”
“No, Uncle Steve helped me!”
You held the small gift in your palm, weighing it to guess the contents. It was fairly light, and rattled a bit when your hand shook. Honestly, you couldn’t have guessed in that moment when was beneath the paper, but whatever it was, the anticipation was clearly getting to Noah as he bounced on the sofa beside you. You took care not rip the paper too much as you unwrapped it. As you tore the final bit of paper away, you smiled. It was a small purple plastic ring inside transparent plastic bauble. You’d seen this before, at the little 50-cent machines by the front door of Tony’s. You popped open the container and slid the ring on your pinky finger, where it barely fit.
“Thank you so much, Noah!” you said as you pulled him into your arms for a hug.
“You’re wearing it wrong!” You jerked back.
“What do you mean?” He sighed in exasperation and gently pulled the ring from your finger.
“You’re supposed to wear it on this finger.” You gasped as he slid the plastic ring as far as it would go down the fourth finger of your left hand. “Will you be my new mommy?”
The room was absolutely silent, waiting for your response. Here you were, being proposed to in a way you had never expected, but instead, you had hoped he would come to think of you in that way. But this wasn’t entirely a decision for you to make. You nodded, hesitantly.
“Noah, honey, I love you. I would love to be your new mom. But that decision isn’t up to me.” You glanced behind him and met the eyes of Steve, who looked at you nervously with wide eyes. Then his gaze focused to something behind you.
“Well then, whose decision is it?” You looked down into Noah’s big blue eyes, and opened your mouth to respond when you were cut off.
“It’s mine, bud.”
You turned around at the voice and your hand flew to your mouth, once more. Bucky was down on one knee, his own ring in a little black velvet box in his hand.
“Y/N, this wasn’t quite what I had planned, I guess Noah beat me to it. I never thought I’d find someone after Dot, but the moment you stepped into our lives, you changed it for the better. You bring light and joy and love to our lives, something that’s been missing for so long. Seeing you with Noah makes me happier than you can imagine and knowing how strongly he feels about you, well…” He took a shuddering breath. “Y/N, you are strong and beautiful and have the patience of a saint, I swear. You are so smart and so supportive, and I’m so glad you decided to take a chance on little ol’ Aster Falls, and take a chance with me. Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”
You were sure you looked a complete mess. Tears were streaming down your face and your hands were shaking. You couldn’t imagine a life without Bucky and Noah, and you didn’t want to. You nodded your head furiously, hardly able to get the words out fast enough.
“Yes! Oh my gosh, yes! Of course!”
Bucky pulled the plastic ring off your finger and slid the real ring in its place. Then he pulled you up into a kiss and it seemed like the room exploded into applause and cheers all around you. When you finally broke away, you looked down to find Noah, pouting slightly. You crouched down to be eye level with him.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“You aren’t wearing my ring.” He had tears in his eyes and your heart broke at his expression.
“Oh, Noah, here, let’s do this instead.” You unclasped the necklace you were wearing - the simple sterling silver heart pendant Bucky got you for your birthday two months ago - and slipped the ring through the chain. When you fastened the clasp back behind your neck, the heart dangled just below your clavicle and right beside it, laid Noah’s purple plastic ring.
“I think this is better Noah, that way I won’t lose it since it doesn’t quite fit on my finger.” You picked him up off the couch and onto your lap instead. “Whether or not you gave me a ring, honey, doesn’t change how much I want to be your mom.”
“Really?” He asked, his blue eyes peeked through his dark lashes.
“Really really. I love you so much, Noah Bear.”
With that, he threw his arms around your neck and cried into your sweater. Bucky sat beside you and placed his hand on your waist, pulling you and Noah closer. He pressed a kiss to your temple. You looked around at the faces of your friends and family, their faces all with soft smiles and teary eyes. You smiled back, but soon felt the heat rushing to your face with all the attention and emotion from the past few minutes.
“I hate to interrupt this touching moment, but some of us have been waiting for sweet potato pie all month so can we please move on to dinner so I can get some dessert?” Sam said. There was a chorus of groans and chuckles breaking the emotional spell, and Sam sent you a wink before heading toward the kitchen. After all these years, he still knew how to read you like a book, and knew when to save you from embarrassment.
After everyone moved more or less to the kitchen and dining room, you gently pushed Noah away to see his face.
“Are you okay, bud?” Bucky asked. Noah nodded, playing with the ring around your neck.
“Where did you learn to propose like that, sweetheart?” you asked.
“I heard Daddy and Uncle Steve talking about proposing, and I asked Uncle Steve how someone proposes and he told me how.”
“Steve thought he was gonna ask a classmate to marry him.” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.
“Can I call you ‘Mommy’?”
Bucky and you stopped laughing abruptly, and you felt the tears return to your eyes. So far, it felt as if you’d spent the entire day as a faucet. You looked at Bucky for confirmation, and he nodded.
“Of course, Noah. If you’re comfortable with calling me that, then you can,” you said.
“Okay, Mommy.” He climbed off of your lap and headed toward the kitchen toward everyone else. “I’m going to get a cookie before Uncle Steve eats them all.” With that, he disappeared.
“Can you believe what happened today?” You asked Bucky, turning to face him.
“Actually, I can, Doll.” He kissed your lips, then leaned away a bit as he cupped your cheek with his warm hand. “This was the best Christmas ever.”
[Of Champagne Flutes and Wedding Vows]
A/N: I may have planned the entirety of A Touch of Ink based off the idea of Noah’s proposal, and I’ve been waiting to share this for so long. I’m a sucker for a child proposal. Hopefully you all liked it too!
335 notes · View notes
makknays · 6 years
Text
what is love?
Tumblr media
genre: angst? fluff and uh smut // college!au
word count: 9.3k this is the most ive ever written and i finished it in under a week when i should be revising
Everyone knew university exams were some one of the most stressful things but having to work on an assignment with a frat boy was even worse. Like yeah, you’d seen them around at their parties but you mainly went to get wasted and forget about school. “I want your assignment on what love is to be around 3000 words long, it’s not due for three months because you’ll need to carry out your own research for this assignment.” “I don’t understand why we’re doing an assignment on love for English, and we have to do research too; what are we; science majors?” some guy complained in the back. “That is because half of you write about love and romance but don’t actually seem to know what it’s all about.” the lecturer replied. “Oh.” “Anyway, everyone pair up and get to it!” You panicked, none of your friends took English with you and 90% of the class has already paired up, leaving you with Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin or Kim Taehyung. Jungkook seemed like the lesser of the three evils so you made your way towards him. “Have you got a partner?” you awkwardly asked him. “Nope, you wanna be mine?” he nonchalantly replied, despite never having spoken to you. “Yeah, uh, here’s my number in case you need me for the assignment. I’ll do my half and you do your half.” “We should really figure out what those halves are.” “Oh yeah, sorry. I have another class to get to but just text me when you’re free, I guess.” you told him before leaving the lecture theatre.
“Yo Jungkook got that hot girl as his partner!” Jimin teased. “Not the point. I actually wanna do well, this is like 50% of our final grade.” he muttered as he was packing his bags. “Yeah, but hot girl? You could get laid!” Taehyung laughed. “Dude, I get laid anyway. Have you met me?” he smirked. “True, I see all those girls he brings back; there’s a new one every weekend!” Jimin stated. “Anyway, let’s get back we have a party tonight!” he added.
[3:26pm] (Unknown) Hey, about that assignment; do you wanna do half research half essay each?
[3:28pm] You: that sounds good
[3:28pm] (Jungkook) btw there’s a party at my frat house tonight so come if you wanna forget about school
[3:29pm] You: am i allowed to bring people? i usually do
[3:29pm] (Jungkook) go for it, i’ll see you tonight ;)
What was with the winky face? Seriously, having a frat boy as your partner was gonna be something you regretted. “Lexi, frat party tonight.” “Which frat?” “Uh, maybe, the only frat whose parties we go to?” you sarcastically replied. “Okay, okay. Just making sure. Are you gonna doll up for once? You haven’t since freshman year.” “It’s a frat party. There’s no one I plan on trying to impress. I just wanna get pissed.” you replied. “___, you haven’t gotten laid since like six months ago.” “Yeah? And?” “Get back out there!” “I don’t want to have a one night stand, if that’s what you mean.” “It was just a suggestion.” she laughed as she turned her attention back to the lecturer.
“Hot girl from English is coming?” Jimin yelled. “Her name’s  ___. You’d know if you paid attention when we all had to introduce ourselves.” Jungkook replied whilst rolling his eyes. “Yeah, but who would pay attention with all these girls in English?” “You’re such a frat boy.” Yoongi chuckled. “Isn’t that what we all are?” he mumbled. “Yeah, but we’re not as fratty as you.” Namjoon teased. “Jungkook is!” “No, Jungkook just gets around.” Namjoon stated. “Guys, why are we even talking about this?” Jungkook whined. “Because hot girl is coming!” “___ is her name but yeah, what’s the big deal? She always comes.” “How do you know that?” Taehyung asked him. “I’ve seen her at all our parties with her little circle of friends which Yoongi seems close to too.” “Oh, yeah, ___’s a good friend of mine. We kinda grew up together.” “You never told me you knew hot girl!” Jimin complained. “Jimin, I had no idea who you meant by hot girl. Besides, not like I’d want you to get into her pants. She’s like a sister to me so none of you fuck about with her, okay?” “Why not me? I’m a nice guy!” “Yeah, but not boyfriend nice. You’re fuckboy nice.” “Your compliments hurt me.” “That’s what I’m here for!”
“___, help me zip up my dress?” Lexi shouted from the bathroom. “Girl, who are you trying to impress?” “Remember that really pretty girl we saw last week? She’s gay, I’m gay?” “How can you be so sure she’s gay?” “I found out through people!” “You’re such a creep sometimes.” you joked after stepping away after zipping up the dress. “___, a girl has needs. Also, is that what you’re wearing?” “Yeah? Are my sweater and jeans making you uncomfortable?” you laughed as you walked away. “Can’t you wear something a bit more fun? For me?” “You’re the one tryna get that girl, not me!” “Please? I wanna look cute with my best friend!” “Ugh, fine. But this is for you and not for a frat boy to get into my pants.” “Of course.” You went rummaging through your closet to find something that would fit the vibe that Lexi was going for and settled on a two piece outfit, consisting of a bandeau top and matching pencil skirt. “Ooh, now we’re talking! Man, if I saw you as a girl I’d be trying to impress you instead of this other girl.” “Thanks?” “Seriously. You look good.” “Let’s go then.”
[8:34pm] (Jungkook) you here?
[8:35pm] You: yeah, with Yoongi and co
[8:35pm] (Jungkook) i can’t find you guys with all these people here
[8:36pm] You: why so keen on finding me?
[8:36pm] (Jungkook): just wanna get to know you a bit better since we’ll be working together for three months
[8:37pm] You: okay, we’re on the sofas
“___, who the hell are you texting?” Yoongi teased. “Why do you care?” you joked. “Suspicious.” Lexi stated. “Go impress that girl!” you told her. “I will! Just when she’s free…” “That’s not how you slide.” “How do you slide then, Yoongi?” “Just interrupt.” “Yeah, Yoongi, that’s actually rude.” you teased. “Works for me.” he shrugged as he took a sip from his plastic red cup. “___!” a voice called, causing your little group to turn their heads. “Heya.” you smiled as you shuffled over to make space for Jungkook, consequently squishing Yoongi slightly. “Is this who you were texting? One of my frat bros?” “Don’t call them that ever again.” Lexi complained. “Okay, okay. But was it?” he whispered into your ear to which you nodded. “Anyway, do you know everyone who’s sat here?” you asked Jungkook; the alcohol in your system was given you so much more confidence. “Yeah, I know everyone. I don’t run around calling people hot girl or anything.” Jungkook joked, causing Yoongi to chuckle slightly. “Okay, I need another drink. Anyone else?” to your surprise almost all six of your friends nodded. “Uh, can someone held me get the drinks?” “I’ll help.” Jungkook offered.
“You know, I’ve heard a lot about you.” you told Jungkook as you entered the kitchen. “Good or bad?” “Bit of both, but you’re different to most frat guys I know. You get around but you’re not like fratty.” you laughed. “Doesn’t everyone get around?” “I don’t, it’s not my thing.” “Ah, so like, when did you last get laid?” he asked as he mixed the last drink. “Good six months ago but yeah.” “Are you the type that has to be in love or something?” “Not in love, but dating.” you smiled as you grabbed four cups and walked out of the door. “Hey, Jungkook!” someone called before he could follow you with the remaining cups. “What’s up, Tae?” “How’s trying to get into hot girl’ pants?” he teased as he poked at Jungkook’s side. “I’m not trying to get into her pants.” he sighed as he walked out of the kitchen. “Sure, you’re not!” Taehyung screamed afterwards but his voice wasn’t audible above the music.
“Sorry, I got held back a bit.” Jungkook smiled as he passed around the drinks. “With what?” you asked as you took a sip of the coke and vodka mix. “Taehyung.” he said after sitting to your left. “He bugging you about that thing from before? Hot girl?” Yoongi asked, his left arm was on the back of the sofa; welcoming everyone but also protecting you. It was a subconscious thing he did, since he was a year older and decided if anyone fucked you oher he’d fuck them up. “Yeah, I mean, hot girl or not? I’m not trying to get into anyone’s pants!” he complained, giving no context. “Okay, uh, I don’t know who you mean by “hot girl” but just, uh, don’t fuck her over?” you told him as you turned to make conversation with someone else. Whilst you weren’t paying attention Jungkook and Yoongi has a conversation of their own about hot girl, whoever she was. The seemed so interested in her.
Hours later, the party was starting to die down and you were about to pass out. Lexi had left with the pretty girl she wanted to get with; Yoongi had gone to his room and everyone else had spread out elsewhere, leaving you and Jungkook. “___, let’s get you back to your room.” Jungkook said as he struggled to get your attention but you shook your head. “___, you can’t stay here. There’s still people around. Let me take you home.” he said but you had your head on his shoulder and we’re about to fall asleep. “Fuck. ___.” he muttered under his breath; he was trying to figure out what to do with you. “Help me, please, you can stay in my room. C’mon babe, stand up.” he spoke as he helped you up. “This is hopeless.” he muttered. “Okay, uh, I’m gonna carry you.” he told you before he lifted your body - bridal style - and carried you into his bedroom. He took off your shoes and considered changing you but thought that he better not, you weren’t that close or dating. He covered you with his duvet and closed the door behind him when left to go back to the party.
The next morning you woke up with a banging headache, in the same clothes you were in the night before, and in a foreign room. “Did I...sleep with someone? No, I wouldn’t be in these...right?” you asked yourself as you looked around for a sign of life. Sadly, there was none; so you sat up and looked around for a while. Afterwards you grabbed your shoes and looked around for you phone but failing to find it you opened the door and realised where you were. “Why am I still here?” you muttered before walking down the stairs of the frat house. “Where is that phone?” you mumbled as you stumbled around looking for it. “This phone?” Yoongi chuckled as he handed you your phone. “Why am I still here?” “I don’t know.” he shrugged before he went back to cleaning up the remains of last night. “You really don’t know? I woke up in some random room and was so confused.” you told him as you helped him clean up. “Which room?” “The one at the top of the stairs.” “That’s Jungkook’s room. Wait, nothing happened, right?” “I don’t think so, I mean I woke up with these still on so I don’t dont think anything happened.” “Where is that boy anyway?” “I know as much as you do.”
“Hey, Jimin, where’s Kook?” Yoongi asked when he entered the kitchen. “Kook? Last time I checked he was asleep in the couch.” “Jimin, he’s not there.” “Well, go find him then. I don’t know where that kid is either.” he mumbled. “You’re annoying when you’re hungover and horny. You didn’t get laid, did you?” he teased before making his way back to you. “No sign of the fucker.” “Call him?” you suggested. “You call him! You have his number.” “Don’t you?” “Not saved.” “Fine.”
“Hello?” Jungkook asked. “Hi, Jungkook. Where are you? Everyone here’s kinda wondering where you’ve disappeared to.” “Oh, I just popped into the store. I’ll be back soon.”
“He went to the store.” you told Yoongi who seemed indifferent about the knowledge. “I just wanna know what you were doing in his bed. I swear I’ll fuck him up if he did anything to you.” “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” you chuckled before making your way into the kitchen to grab something to eat. “Wow, your fridge has been emptied. No wonder he went to the store.” you spoke to yourself. “___!” Jimin cheered. “Can I help you?” “Nope, I just can’t believe you fucked Jungkook.” “Here’s the thing, I didn’t. Did he tell you that?” “Nah, I just assumed since I saw that you were in his room last night.” “You’re the frattiest out of them all.” “You barely even know me.” Jimin pouted. “Exactly.” you smiled before jumping on the island in the kitchen to sit on it. “Are you interested in him? I mean, you did ask him to be your partner.” “For the assignment, yeah. It’s not that deep, Jimin.” “You came to the party?” “I come to every party.” “Okay, okay. But if you get together you owe me like 10 bucks.” he was pushing your competitive side but you didn’t want to step down and imply that you were weak. “Okay, and if we don’t, you owe me 10 bucks.” “How long?” “Three months, today, so like June 4.” “Deal.” It was quite strange how comfortable you felt around everyone in the fraternity; you realised most rumours weren’t true and they were just genuinely sweet people who just kind of got around. But it probably helped that you were interacting with people whilst drunk last night.
“Hey, guys. I have food!” Jungkook smiled as he entered the kitchen; he was surprised when he noticed you on the island. “Food!” you squealed as you pulled the bag he placed on the island towards yourself. “Yeah, I picked some up on the way ‘cuz I figured no one would wanna cook.” he told. “This is my favourite kind of breakfast.” you smiled as you held the pancakes close to you. “Jesus, ___, why don’t you date them?” Yoongi chuckled when he entered the kitchen, presumably for a coffee. “Maybe I will.” you pouted as you hopped down. Breakfast was filled with a lot of joking and reminiscing the night before, different frat boys would make their way in and out of the kitchen but yourself, Jungkook, Yoongi and Jimin stayed the whole time. “Oh, by the way, what was ___ doing in your room last night?” Yoongi asked. “Oh, uh, well, she started to seem really sleepy and I wanted to take her to her room but she wouldn’t budged and I remembered that I don’t even know where her room is so I let her stay in my bed while I slept downstairs after the party died.” “What a gentleman!” Jimin smirked as sent looks your way. “Thanks Jungkook.” “Don’t worry about it.” “___ is off limits one night stand wise! Do not fuck with her! Or you fuck with me!” Yoongi suddenly but jokingly said. “What if one of us fell in love with her?” Jimin joked but you knew he was trying to push something. “That’s okay but don’t hurt her.” “Wow, you’d just give me over to one of your frat bros like that?” “Hey, if you both love each other who am I to stop you?” he chuckled before taking the last sip of his black coffee. “He’s got a point.” Jimin laughed. “Wait, isn’t our assignment on what love is? We really should do research on that, like what people think it is.” you told Jungkook. “It’s due in three months, don’t sweat it, babe.” he chuckled. “You want a good grade as well, right?” “Of course! Well start next week then.”
It was around 4pm when you finally made it back to your dorm room, where Lexi had been waiting for you since 12pm. “Where have you been?” she complained when you entered the room. “I was at the frat house.” you told her. “What? Did you fuck someone?” “Nope, I passed out there.” “Until now?” “Well, I woke up and chilled with them and then I came here.” you explained as you looked for clothes to change into. “Okay? Anyway, that girl wow, we had such a good time. We didn’t fuck but like we had such a good time. Her name is Skyla and we just spoke all night long in the corner of the party and we exchanged numbers so I think we’ll be going on a date soon!” she squealed as she held her phone close to her chest. “Damn, look at my best friend go!” you smiled before going to shower and change into something that you hadn’t been wearing for longer than necessary. Whilst you were in the shower there was a sudden knock on the door. “Who the fuck?” Lexi muttered to herself before lazily making her way towards the door. There was another knock before she opened the door. “Can I help y- Jungkook?” “Lexi! Is ___ here?” “She’s in the shower.” “Oh, well give her this. She forgot it at ours.” “Her phone? She forgot her phone? What did she do on the way home…?” “She was talking to us, we walked her over. I only noticed her phone when we got back. Anyway, I’ll get going.” he smiled before leaving. When you reappeared in front of Lexi she yelled “___, your boyfriend dropped off your phone.” “I don’t have a boyfriend?” “Okay, Jungkook.” “What makes you think I’m interested in him or vise versa?” you chuckled. “Well, you were kind of all over that guy last night. Yoongi disappeared and you two just started talking and seemed really intimate. I don’t know what else happened because I went and got myself a Jungkook. Oh, also, he came back just to give you your phone so.” “Lexi, it’s a phone. What else was I going to do if he didn’t come and give me it?” “Hey, you’re not denying what happened last night!” “That’s because I barely remember that.” you sighed as you laid down.
[4:58pm] You: thx for dropping off my phone
[5:00pm] (Jungkook) No problem sweetheart
[5:03pm] You: we still need to start that assignment…
[5:03pm] (Jungkook) you said Monday so until then don’t even mention it :D
[5:04pm] You: make me :)
[5:05pm] (Jungkook) is that an invitation?
[5:05pm] You: up to your interpretation
“You’re texting your boyfriend, aren’t you?” Lexi teased. “Don’t you have Skyla to talk to?” you retaliated. “She’s at work.” she pouted, making you laugh slightly. “Is my misfortune funny to you?” “Somewhat.” “Whatever, just talk to your boyfriend!” “He’s not my boyfriend!” It wasn’t a lie that Jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend but everyone had come up with this idea of you liking Jungkook or the other way round and you had no idea where it stemmed from. Yeah, Jungkook was attractive, there was no denying that, and you got along but dating him? It just didn’t seem realistic.
“Okay, we need to get this started!” you told Jungkook as you opened up your laptop. “Let’s start off with stating our personal perceptions of love.” you added afterwards. “Love? Does it have to be romantic?” Jungkook asked before taking the laptop from you. “Up to you.” you told him. “Okay, just don’t read what I say yet.” “No, I won’t. I wanna write these and compare it to what we write in three months time.” you told him before diverting your attention elsewhere. Jungkook spent about thirty minutes writing on your laptop, getting stuck and not being able to find the right words every now and then but he got there in the end. “I’m done.” he smiled. “Cool. Let’s get some other opinions up in here.” you laughed. “We’ll do it another day. Let’s just hang out for the rest of the day, ___.” Jungkook pouted. “What would that include?” you asked, intrigued by his idea. “Let’s go on a drive. We’ll blast some old songs and just see where the road takes us.” he smiled. “Okay, as long as I’m back by midnight. I like my sleep.” “I gotcha, babe.” His pet names never went unnoticed by you but you chose to not acknowledge them or give them any unnecessary meaning but they were seriously growing on you. But still, the two of you dating? You weren’t so sure. “You know, you only did half an hour of work today?” you laughed as you got into Jungkook’s car. “I went to the lecture, ___.” “So did I but you were sleeping.” “How did you know…” “Jungkook, we sit on the same row.” you blankly replied. “Fine, I’ll just do more tomorrow. Also just connect your phone to the bluetooth. Play whatever, I don’t mind.” “Okay, I’ll play All Star.” “Wow, you’re perfect.” he muttered. “What?” “Nothing, I said it’s perfect.” It was safe to say that Jungkook had a crush on you, he had one since before he even knew you properly. He was so shocked when you asked to be his assignment partner, this was finally his chance. He had been flirting with you, well calling you pet names, but you seemed unfazed by it all, he was losing hope.
Your drive led you to the prettiest little places where the two of you took a bunch of photos of the scenery and well, each other. This may have been platonic but it sure as hell felt like a date to the both of you. “It’s nice out here.” Jungkook sighed. “Agreed. We should come back here some time.” you suggested. “Not a bad idea, but you told me you wanna be back before midnight so let me take you home, babe.” “Is it seriously already 11?” you whined. “I’m afraid so.” he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and walked you back to his car. “I really don’t wanna go back.” you told him before running back to the spot you to were in before, he ran after you without a thought and because he was much faster and stronger, as soon as he caught you he lifted you over his shoulder and took you to his car. “Don’t make me do that again. I’ve known you properly for like four days and I’ve carried you twice.” “Twice?” you asked when he placed you down. “How do you think you got to my room when you slept there?” he chuckled. “Get in, sweetheart.” How you got to Jungkook’s room was never something you questioned, yeah, you questioned why you were there but never how. You had assumed you were walked up by someone; you didn’t realise Jungkook, who had only known you for a few hours, had carried you up there. “Something on your mine?” Jungkook asked when he noticed you in some sort of trance. “No, just hungry.” “Let’s go grab a bite then, we’re basically by your room anyway.” he suggested. “Yeah, that sounds good.” you smiled.
“Two hamburgers and fries, please. You want a drink?” Jungkook asked. “Yeah, please.” you told him without sparing him a glance. You were updating Lexi on your whereabouts since she had started to get worried, you were never out past 9 on a Monday and it was almost 12 now. “To go?” the worker asked. “Yeah, please.” “Here’s the money, Jungkook.” you said as you handed him the sum of your half of the bill. “I’ll pay, don’t worry.” “Okay, but I’m paying next time.” “If you say so, but that means I’m gonna eat as much as possible.” “You’re the worst.” A few minutes later, Jungkook and you walked back towards his car and he drove you back to your room. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. 2pm.” Jungkook smiled when he got out of the car. “You got it!”
“Dude, why were you out so late?” Lexi whined when you entered. “It starting to feel like every time I enter this room you complain to me.” you laughed. “You’re never out late on a Monday though.” “I was with Jungkook.” you told her before eating some of the fries in your bag. “Oh, you were with your man, I see.” she smirked. “It was nothing like that.” “So, you weren’t laid?” “Nah, we just hung out.” “Oh, okay. Boring.” she joked. “Yeah, but have you been laid yet?” “Nope, but I have a date at 7pm tomorrow.” “Lucky.” you muttered. “Why don’t you go on one?” “Who the hell would go on a date with me?” you laughed. “Jungkook.” she genuinely replied. “No way, the guy who’s in a frat?” you laughed but you were starting to consider it. “Yes way. You’re clearly into each other, well, that’s the vibe I got from the party.” Lexi said as she grabbed some fries. “Um, excuse me?” “Yeah, you were so flirty and basically eye fucking each other.” “I was talking about my stolen fries.” “Oh, well, they’re gone now. But seriously, do you have a thing for your frat boy assignment partner?” “I mean, he has a nice face.” “___.” “I don’t know, man. I’ve known him for a few days. Ask me again in a month.”
And just like that a month had passed. Jungkook and you had met very frequently, every other day actually; you both also saw each other at the frat parties every Friday night and tonight was no different. “___, where’s my really cute dress?” Lexi asked. “Which one? You have so many.” “Uh, the red- You’re wearing it!” she complained. “I can’t even be mad though because you look really cute in it.” “Well, you can wear it instead; I’m sure I’ll find something.” “No, it’s fine. You need to get Jungkook’s attention, I already have a partner secured so.” “I do not need to get his attention. Especially like this!” you told her. “Okay, so why else are you wearing my cute dress when last week you appeared in sweats.” “I just wanna doll up a little bit.” you mumbled. “Oh, by the way, he still seemed really into you when you were wearing the sweats.” “He was?” “Ha! You do want his attention!” “Okay, yeah, keep it down. Isn’t a bit of flirting allowed?” you retaliated. “___, he’s so into you; just get on that!” “No, I wanna figure my feelings out. I wanna make sure it’s not just lust like 90% of the girls who try to hope on him.” “It’s been a month.” “What’s your point?” “Okay, take things at your pace then.” she chuckled before rummaging through her closet for a nice dress.
“Wow, you dressed up! What’s the occasion, babe?” Jungkook chuckled when you made your appearance. “I just wanted to look nice this week; it’s been a long one.” you replied as you took Yoongi’s drink from him. “My drink!” he whined. “You owe me this, I had to cover your ass this week.” “What happened?” Jungkook calmly asked, leaning back into the sofa that you two were sat on. “His parents called to check on him and stuff and I had to say that their youngest son was doing very well and totally not skipping classes and spending his most money on booze.” “But what else made you so bleh about this week?” “Oh, it’s just been long because of some deadlines that I have, but that’s what this party’s here for.” “True.” “How was your week?” “It was okay, I guess. Nothing much happened.” “Sorry, I couldn’t manage to see you this week, by the way.” you told him, feeling slightly guilty because you had been so absorbed in meeting deadlines. “It’s fine. We can hang out now.” he smiled. “Can I take this seat?” a random girl asked before she sat on Jungkook who was evidently uncomfortable with the situation. “No, can you actually get off me?” he told her as he looked over at you for help. “But Kookie.” she mewled. “Can you leave?” you suddenly asked her. “Why? So you can have him all to yourself?” “No, he’s clearly uncomfortable with you sitting on him so like go find someone else to harass.” you nonchalantly replied. “Fine. I didn’t want your dick anyway.” she told Jungkook as she left. “Thanks. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do to make her leave.” “Hey, what are friends for?” you laughed before taking another sip of Yoongi’s poison. “Here, take it back. It’s like straight up vodka; I’m getting my own drink.” you complained before heading towards the kitchen. You hadn’t realised Jungkook had followed you until you saw his hand reaching for the same bottle. “You first.” he smiled. “Thanks.” “It’s always so quiet in here.” “I know, right? But it’s probably because it’s not the best place to do anything.” you replied as you handed him the bottle. “Where’s the coke?” you asked. “Oh, there should be some here.” Jungkook replied as he opened a cabinet filled with mixers including coke. “Thank you, my saviour. Imagine having the ratio Yoongi has. I’d be out in no time.” “Yoongi is unnecessarily intolerant to alcohol.” Jungkook muttered. “Anyways, I’ll be heading back.” he added before leaving.
When you returned there was no space for you to sit. Your first choice would be Yoongi but he seemed occupied by someone’s lips. Yes, modern day romance. Lexi was nowhere to be seen and so you just awkwardly stood there with your red cup. “Come over here, sweetheart.” Jungkook told you. “I have nowhere to sit.” “Here.” “Your lap?” you would’ve spat out your drink if it were in your mouth at this point but instead your eyes just widened. “Yeah, c’mon.” “You’re not trying to get into my pants, are you?” you joked when you sat down on Jungkook’s lap. “I would never try to do so so blatantly.” he chuckled as one arm wrapped around your waist. After a few shots of vodka that Lexi had kindly presented it was safe to say you were in that territory where you would say whatever was on your mind, no filter whatsoever. “You have a good face.” you smiled as you caressed Jungkook’s face. “I would hope so.” he chuckled. You leaned your body into his and quietly stayed there, letting time pass. “Wait for me.” you muttered. “What?” “Wait for me to figure out my feelings.” “___, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Lexi said I like you but I just want to be sure.” you pouted, eyes half open and you were falling sleepy. “Of course I’ll wait for you, babygirl.” Although you were drunk and sleepy, your words reassured him. Obviously you probably wouldn’t remember telling him this but it boosted his confidence in his chances with you. Moments later you were sleeping on top of Jungkook but he seemed completely unbothered; in fact, he probably was enjoying being so close to you. “You might wanna bring her to your room.” Yoongi muttered, seeming much sober than a few hours ago. “Again?” “Where else will she sleep? Not my room. There’s someone in there.” “Okay, I’ll wait til the stairs are more cleared though; this party is still quite alive.”
In reality he was just finding an excuse to stay in this position for as long as possible but he had to admit it was almost 2am and he probably should take you to his bed. When he placed you down on his bed, you refused to let go. “No, don’t go. Stay here.” you whined as you reached for his arms. “Baby, you should get some rest.” “Why do you always call me that? Always babe, babygirl, sweetheart or baby. Hmm.” you asked. “Do you like me?” you whispered. “Get some sleep, ___.” “No pet name.” you pouted, turning away from him. “Why do I like you?” Jungkook quietly muttered before leaving the room and kicking the majority of the party out so he could catch some sleep himself. “___’s in your room, right?” Lexi asked before she left the party. “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring her home tomorrow.”
“Why am I here again?” you muttered as you stumbled out of Jungkook’s bed. “Jungkook?” you called when you left the room. “Yeah?” he replied from the kitchen. “Why am I still here?” you tiredly asked before hopping onto the island. “You fell asleep around 1am so I just took you to my room at the end of the party.” “Thanks, again.” you chuckled. “It’s no problem.” “Did I say anything stupid?” “Nothing stupid.” he smiled. “Pancakes?” he added afterwards. “Always.” Suddenly the door burst open and Taehyung appeared, “Oh, am I interrupting?” he smirked before leaving. “Why did he even come when he didn’t get anything?” you asked. “You know what he’s like.” Jungkook chuckled. Jimin came in a few minutes after the two of you started to tuck into your pancakes. “Mr and Mrs Jeon.” he teased. “What?” the two of you replied, clearly in shock. “You are so gonna owe me those 10 bucks.” Jimin whispered into your ear before saying something to Jungkook. When Jimin left, the two of you awkwardly sat in silence. “So, what did he say to you?” Jungkook asked you. “I’ll owe him 10 bucks.” “Why?” “Well, um, this will sound bad but he said that if we get together by June 4 I owe him the 10 and if we don’t he owes me it.” “Well, will we?” Jungkook nonchalantly asked. “I don’t know. Would I get with my frat boy assignment partner?” “Who knows what the future holds?” he shrugged before leaving the room, but you figured it was because of what you told him.
[2:32pm] You: i just thought id let you know that im home
[2:58pm] (Jungkook) cool
[2:58pm] You: whats wrong :(
[3:56pm] (Jungkook) nothing :)
[3:57pm] You: you dont need to lie to me, did i do smth???
[3:58pm] (Jungkook) i mean not much you can do anyway so just leave it
“He frustrating you?” Lexi asked, you must have been quite obviously displaying your annoyance. “Yep. He won’t tell me what’s wrong. Do you know what I might have said last night?” you asked. “I have no idea what it could be, sorry.” “Ugh, what if I told him I liked him?” “So, you like him?” “Well, I’m still not that sure.” “You two sound like you’re dating already most of the time but you should probably try to get him to talk because there’s only so much I can do.” “I guess. I’ll try calling him later.”
[6:08pm] You: can i call you?
[6:08pm] (Jungkook) sure
“Hello?” “Jungkook, why are you sad?” “I told you, you can’t do anything about it, so don’t worry about it, ___.” “Was it the thing about Jimin and the 10 bucks because I can call that off-” “No, it wasn't that. In fact, I kind of want that 10 bucks but that’s not it.” he told you. “Then what is it?” “I’ve just been thinking a lot, ever since last night.” he confessed. “Is it something I said? Because I was drunk.” “That’s the thing though, you’re more honest when you’re drunk, ___.” “What did I say?” you awkwardly asked. “Well, you kind of told me to wait for you and that you were sorting your feelings out and then you asked me not to leave you when I placed you on my bed.” “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I said that.” “No, it wasn’t that. It was when you just called me a frat boy assignment partner, like, is that all you see me as despite the fact that you had told me those things the night before?” “Jungkook-” “I just can’t understand what the hell you mean, ____.” “Jungkook, do you like me?” There was a long silence and it was awkward on both ends. “Yes.” and then he hung up.
“Seriously, he hung up after admitting that he liked you?” Lexi asked. “Yeah…” you sighed. “What else did he say to you?” “Something about stuff I said when I was drunk and sober. I think he thinks I’m messing with him but really I have no idea what’s going on.” you pouted, leaning back against the headboard. “Well, just give him some time. It’s the best thing you can probably do right now.” “I don’t think I have a choice.” “Hey, how about we go treat you?” “I don’t feel like it.” “___, I am taking you out that’s final.” Lexi said as she pulled you off your bed. “Fine, fine. Where are even gonna take me?” “Only your favourite cafe which also happens to be the most expensive place to buy a cup of coffee.” “You’re paying?” “Yep.” The next week was quiet and slow; you were praying that the class would be over soon so you could go home and then go to the weekly frat party. You needed an escape more than ever.
“___, you’re not wearing that. You just want his attention.” Lexi told you when she saw you pull out the shortest and most revealing dress you owned. “Funny. Last week you said I should be trying to get his attention.” you sarcastically replied. “Haha. Funny. The circumstances are different this time.” “I’m wearing it.” “Fine, but if he doesn’t talk to you this time, don’t come complaining to me.” “I won’t.” you muttered before changing into the dress.
“Hey, idiot.” Yoongi called when he entered the kitchen. “What do you want?” you mumbled as you poured yourself a drink. “Nothing. Can’t I check up on my best friend?” “I’m sorry. It’s been a long week and this time I mean really long.” “Is this about Jungkook and you not talking?” “How do you know?” “___, I’m literally in the same frat as him.” “Ugh, I just don’t really know what I did for him to be this way.” “Go talk to him.” “No.” “Then stay frustrated.” “I hate when you make good points.” you said before leaving the room and heading towards Jungkook. To your surprise he was surrounded by all types of people that you had never seen before. “Of course.” you muttered before sitting down in your usual spot on the sofa. Yoongi came over not too long later. “You haven’t spoken to him have you?” “Nope, he seems occupied.” you mumbled. “Here.” Yoongi said as he handed you a much needed spliff. “You’re giving me this?” “You need it, ___. Just relax a little.” he chuckled as he lit his own. It was about an hour later than your initial appearance at the party and for once, you were mingling and speaking to new people. Suddenly arms wrapped around your waist, you had no idea who it was but you had an idea and didn’t push them off you. “Hey, sweetheart.” You turned your head to face Jungkook who seemed very much drunk; it took a lot for him to be drunk so to see him in this state shocked you. He pressed his hips against your own and you could feel his very evident hard on against you. “Who allowed you to wear such a revealing dress? Thinking I wouldn’t notice? Or was that what you wanted?” he whispered into your ear. “Jungkook, let me get you some water.” “No, I’m okay, babygirl.” he lowly told you as placed kisses along your neck. “Jungkook, you’re barely standing upright.” you told him. “That’s why I’m holding onto you, baby.” he chuckled before taking him to the sofa. It was weird being the more sober one for once but your main priority was to make sure Jungkook was okay. After you placed him on the sofa, you went to grab a cup of water.
“Jungkook, please drink this.” you told him when you returned to him. You sat down beside him to make sure he would be okay. How much exactly did he have to drink? “___, you know it sucks that you play with me like this?” “Jungkook, you’re drunk. Let’s talk when you’re sober.” you stated before his head softly met your shoulder. “I may be drunk and very honry because of you but you mean so much to me. Why am I just a frat boy to you?” he pouted. “Jungkook, I’ll talk about this when you’ll be able to remember.” The boy’s head fell softly onto your lap before he seemed to fall asleep, he looked so peaceful, as if there was not a care in the world. You lightly caressed his face before Lexi made an appearance. “Woah, what happened here?” “He’s drunk and knocked out.” you told her, moving your hand away from Jungkook’s face. “Did you get to talk to him?” Yoongi asked as he sat down beside Lexi. “Okay, where did you come from? Also, no. By the time I saw him he was piss drunk.” you replied. “You guys are so frustrating, I mean, you’re clearly into each other.” Lexi whined. “Not so simple.” “___, face it. You like him. I’ve never seen you like someone this much during your lifetime.” Yoongi teased. “Okay, even if I did. What’s it to you guys?” “Well, if you two actually got your shit together, we’d be stress free.” Lexi smiled. “Look, I’ll talk to him when he’s sober. I haven’t seen him all week and the time I do he’s knocked out on my lap.” “Is that why you’ve been so pissy all week? Because you hadn’t seen him?” Lexi asked. “Did you only just realise?” Yoongi laughed. “Can you guys help me take him upstairs? I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of the night.” “You mean you don’t want the love of your life to stay so close to you?” Lexi joked. “Guys, please.” “Okay, fine.” Yoongi said before coming to move Jungkook with you. The three of you helped him get to his bedroom, where you took off his shoes and tucked him into bed. “Thanks guy, you can go back to the party, I’ll be down in a second.” you said before turning your attention back to Jungkook who seemed to have fallen back to sleep. When you turned away and started to make your way to the door you heard Jungkook say “___, stay.”
“Honey, you’re drunk and sleepy. Get some rest.” “No, ___, come here.” “Jungkook.” “Call me honey again.” he mumbled. “I like it.” he added. “Jungkook, get some sleep. I’ll talk to you later.” “No, please, at least give me a hug?” he whined so you gave in and made your way back towards him. His strong arms pulled you into his embrace, almost causing you to lose balance and collapse onto him. “Thank you.” he muttered when you pulled away but he grabbed you again and placed a kiss on your lips, but you quickly pulled away from him. “Jungkook, stop. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re doing. I want you to sleep.” “Okay, but only because you want me to. Goodnight, sweetheart.” “You’re such a handful sometimes.” you mumbled as you closed the door behind you. “What took you so long?” Yoongi asked you when you sat down beside him. “I just wanted to make sure he was good.” “That’s it?” “Yeah.” The party was finally dying down, people were leaving and falling asleep but you remained more awake than ever. “___, are you coming home?” Lexi asked. “I think I’ll stay here.” “Okay, I’ll see you later.” Since you couldn’t sleep you decided to clean up the mess that remained. It’s not like it would clean itself, right? Three hours later, you were still wide awake and most of the mess was gone. You just couldn’t get Jungkook off your mind; he hadn’t spoken to you all week and then he went and did what he did. Is this how he was feeling? You ignored your thoughts and carried on cleaning until you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, you turned your attention towards the figure walking down and it was no other than a very tired Jungkook. “What are you doing up?” you asked him. “I got thirsty.” he quickly replied, walking straight past you and into the kitchen. “Okay.” you muttered before resuming to cleaning. Thanks to you the place was now spotless.
“Why are you awake?” Jungkook asked when he reappeared with a glass of water. “I couldn’t sleep. For once, I didn’t end up asleep in your room.” you chuckled. “Yeah, uh, thanks for bringing me up.” “How did you know I did?” “___, I was drunk but I wasn’t as drunk as you normally get.” he smiled before placing the glass on the coffee table and taking a seat on the sofa. He signed for you to take a seat beside him. “So, you remember everything you did?” you asked to which he nodded. “Are you still upset at me?” “Nope. Just kinda upset that I went to bed with a hard on.” he joked, leaning back into the sofa. “You were drunk, I wasn’t gonna let you do anything like that. And why aren’t you upset anymore?” you curiously asked. “I heard your conversation with Lexi and Yoongi. You. Like. Me. And! You were pissy because we didn’t speak all week.” he smirked. “What’s your point?” “There is such a big chance of us happening, baby.” “Jungkook, you got upset over me calling you a frat boy and you didn’t talk to me for a week. What makes you think anything will happen?” “Simple. We like each other. Oh, and you know your deal with Jimin? I told him I was disappointed in him and that if he won he’d have to give me the money so either way we get the money.” “We?” “Well yeah, after I ask you to be my girlfriend but I should take you on a date first.” “You’re serious?” “As serious as my hard on.” “You’re wha-” you stopped your sentence midway when you looked down and noticed the obvious tent in his jeans. “Okay, how? I didn’t even say anything provocative.” “You’re still in that dress, sweetheart. You’re driving me crazy.” he growled as he moved closer to you, placing short but sweet kisses along your collarbone and neck. “Say something, baby.” he muttered against your neck. “Let me kiss you.” you replied. Jungkook pulled you onto his lap and grabbed your ass roughly as the two of you made out. Neither of you holding back any of the sexual frustration that had obviously built up. “You’re so hot, baby.” Jungkook said to which you moaned in response. Somewhere along the way you had started to grind against Jungkook, causing him to moan in response. “Fuck, I want you so bad.” he muttered before lifting your dress up to place two fingers against your clothed heat. “Wow, so wet already. All for me?” “All for you.” you managed to respond in between breaths. “Do you want my fingers inside you, babygirl?” “Yes, please.” you mewled before you left hickies on his neck. Jungkook kissed you as he moved your panties so that his fingers could enter, you causing you to moan into the kiss. “You like that, babygirl?” Jungkook asked as he used to thumb to rub your clit as he fingered you. You placed your head on his shoulder, unable to respond due to the stimulation. “Answer me, baby.” he replied as he spare hand squeezed your ass. “I love it.” you managed to say in between breaths. “Good girl.” He curled his fingers inside of you every so often, eliciting moans from you. Not long later the heat built up in your stomach and you knew you were close. “Jungkook, I-” “I know, baby. Cum for me.” He told you as his hands sped up causing you to scream out of pleasure. “Too loud. There are people sleeping, princess.” he chuckled before placing his two fingers into his mouth, cleaning up the mess you had made on him. “Tastes so good, but let’s get to the best part.”
Jungkook placed you down so that you were laying on your back with him hovering above you. “I’ll have to see your tits another time I just need to be inside you right now.” he smirked. “Be my guest.” “Where did my submissive babygirl go?” “She got impatient.” you told him as you pulled him down to kiss you. Afterwards Jungkook impatiently removed his jeans and briefly touched himself, using the precum as lube, before aligning his cock with you, whilst you removed your panties and pulled up your dress. He had barely placed the head inside you when you let out a moan. “Wow, I haven’t even done anything yet.” he chuckled. “Just, fuck me.” “Your wish is my command.” he said before shoving himself into and waiting for you to become adjusted to his size. Based on the look you gave him he knew he could finally move, starting off slow so that he wouldn’t hurt you by accident. “Please, faster.” you whined. “Baby, you have no idea how tight you feel.” he moaned as he thrust in and out of you. He sped up and ended up hitting just the spot over and over again, causing you to whine and moan over and over. Due to all the pleasure from your last orgasm and from Jungkook fucking you like there was no tomorrow you could feel your second orgasm beginning to make an appearance. “Jungkook.” you whined as he thrust into you. “Baby, I’m close.” you moaned, causing him to speed up his thrusts, making them become sloppy. “Me too, babygirl.” He moved closer to you, placing a kiss on your lips as he continued to fuck you senselessly and there it was. You were about to scream out his name before he kissed you to silence you, so that no one would catch the two of you. “I’m so close, baby.” he moaned and with one more thrust his cum painted your insides and he collapsed on top of you. He slowly pulled out of you, causing you to whine. “Sorry, baby, we can’t stay like that forever.” he chuckled before retrieving his clothes. “Wait, are you on birth control?” he said, panic evident in his voice. “Yeah.” “Thank fuck, I completely forgot to ask before I fucked you.” “Well, I’m on it. You know, for future reference.” “Okay, okay, c’mon let’s get you to my room.” “I need to pee first.” “Okay, let me help you to the bathroom, then to my room. Let’s get some rest.”
A few hours later the two of you woke up, you were still wrapped in Jungkook’s arms and it felt so right. “Hi.” he smiled. “Hey.” “I like this.” he chuckled. “Yeah, me too. I wouldn’t mind waking up to you again.” “I should still take you on a date before I ask you to be my girl.” “So do you usually fuck before the first date?” you teased. “You’re the only exception. I’ve been crushing on you since like the start of this year so when you wanted to be assignment partners I knew it was my time to get you.” “You’re cute.” you laughed as you placed a kiss on his lips. “Do you wanna change out of that?” Jungkook asked, realising you were still in the dress from last night. “You have anything that’ll fit?” “You could wear something as a dress but like something loose.” he replied as he left the bed to find you something better to wear. “Here you go, sweetie.” “Thanks.” Jungkook and you then walked down the stairs together and headed towards the kitchen. “You guys were loud.” Jimin smirked. “You’re a pervert.” you responded. “So are you together?” “Nope.” Jungkook replied as he grabbed ingredients for breakfast with you. “You fucked but you’re not together?” Yoongi replied. “I need to take her on a date first.” “YOU CAN FUCK BEFORE CALLING HER YOUR GIRLFRIEND BUT NOT BEFORE A DATE?” Yoongi screamed, probably causing anyone who was asleep to wake up. “Yeah.” Jungkook shrugged. “Y’all are weird.” Jimin muttered before leaving the kitchen with Yoongi. “How about I take you on that date after breakfast?” “I’m down for that.”
“Are we going on another drive?” you asked him when you got into his car. “How did you know?” he sarcastically replied. The two of you had been driving for an hour before Jungkook came to a stop. “We’ve been here before.” “Yes, we have. Jungkook chuckled. “Why did you take me back here?” “You found it really pretty. I thought why not come back as our first date?” he told you as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “You’re cheesy.” “You like me. Are we playing state the obvious?” he joked. “You’re the worst.” “Well, now you’re just lying.” he pouted. “Maybe, I am.” you responded, pulling away from his embrace to be face to face with him. “You’re the best.” he told you. “I know.” you smirked before he placed a delicate kiss on your forehead. “Be my girlfriend?”
Two months later it was time to write your new opinions on love and compare it to what you had written last time. You had already written your part and now it was Jungkook’s turn. “Jungkook, you want that A, right? Do your part!” you told him as you passed him the laptop that was on your lap. “Okay, okay. You can’t rush art, baby.” “Just write it, please.”
I am not quite sure what romantic love feels like; I’ve had girlfriends before but I never felt strong emotions towards them and thought “Can I feel love?” but love isn’t just romantic, it comes in all shapes and sizes. The beauty is that you could love anyone you want to, no matter gender, race, sexuality, it doesn’t matter, love is love. Love is being able to hear my mother laugh after the stressful life she had while raising my brother and I; love is seeing my father crack a joke and enlightening the mood even further; love is seeing my friends laugh with each other. In fact, I think I’m falling in love with someone right now and because of her, I’m also falling in love with the world that surrounds her. Maybe I will experience romantic love one day but even if I don’t that’s okay. I have all these amazing people who love me, regardless. Love is the most beautiful thing we do and without it we’d be nowhere.
It’s been three months since I wrote my last paragraph on what love meant in my eyes and since then I’ve fallen deeper in love with one of the most amazing people in this world. When you love someone romantically, they become your everything, they become the most beautiful person to you, they become the best thing about your life. This is my first time feeling something so real for someone and I don’t plan on letting go. Love is different for everyone but for me love makes me a better person and is something everyone deserves to feel.
714 notes · View notes
Text
JUNO STEEL AND THE DRAGON’S DEN (PART TWO)
SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.
CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.
MUSIC: STARTS.
SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.
The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you’ll allow me just a moment.
SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.
(CHUCKLES) Well, next stop? Hyperion City.
SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.
A dragon that doesn’t spit fire; lions with mechanical skeletons; a security chief who makes her own staff decidedly insecure. At Polaris Park, nothing is as it seems – which makes things difficult when your job is to find out what’s true. If Detective Steel wants to survive, he’ll have to do just that: look past the holograms and the robotics and the lies to prove a killer is close by.
SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.
Our next stop: Juno Steel and the Dragon’s Den.
ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.
***
MUSIC: STARTS.
JUNO (NARRATOR): Ask any kid on Mars who the greatest hero of all time is and they’ll give you the same answer without blinking: Andromeda the Chainmail Warrior, the hero without a home, the lady on all the best lunchboxes. Every kid goes through a phase where they like Andromeda… and some even go through a phase where they want to be Andromeda.
One of those little saps grew up to be Juno Steel, private eye. Back when I was a kid, I used to put a colander on my head and wrestle my brother for hours while he roared like a dragon and spat all over my face. I always felt invincible back then, like nobody’d ever take me down, like I could do no wrong.
So you can tell I wasn’t a very smart kid, either.
SWIFT: This is the way out of the mountain. Watch your footing – this is supposed to be a drop, but, for us, it’s just going to be a nasty slope.
RITA: I guess this ride’s f-full’a nasty things, huh?
SWIFT: What was that, doll?
RITA: Nothin’!
JUNO (NARRATOR): Rita and I were at the home of the homeless hero right now: Polaris Park, a Northstar joint way out in the Martian desert. My employer, Ramses O’Flaherty, got most of his campaign funds from this place, and word on the street was someone was going to hit him right in the investors.
SWIFT: Careful you don’t trip, there. Try to hold onto something if you can – and that’s an offer, sweetheart.
JUNO (NARRATOR): That’s the ‘someone.’ Yasmin Swift, security chief of Polaris Park… the same park it seemed like she was trying to take down by sabotaging its star attraction. Sasha always told me I should get more interested in politics. Turns out all it took was some corporate warfare and a triple-homicide.
MUSIC: ENDS.
NARRATOR: Andromeda raced down the peak, feeling Draco’s hot breath on her neck!
RITA: I– I don’t know if I can ‘race,’ really! Feels like I can barely walk without breakin’ my little ankles…
SWIFT: You need to take a breather? I can scout ahead and—
JUNO: Nope, she’s good, thanks!
(QUIETLY) Come on, Rita, we can’t let her get too far ahead of us.
RITA: I’m tryin’, Mista Steel! But my heart’s goin’ ka-bum-bum-bum, and not in the fun way, more in the my-doctor’s-gonna-be-upset way, and our relationship is already rocky and—
SWIFT: It’s really no problem, Juno, I don’t mind.
JUNO: Just… stay within eyeshot, okay? I don’t want Rita to get lost again.
SWIFT: Alright, alright. I’ll be waiting down here.
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.
RITA: Oh, boss, I’m so scared, hold me!
JUNO: Oof!
RITA: I just… it’s too scary! How can we keep walkin’ through this ride with her when she just roasted three people?
JUNO: Don’t really have a choice, Rita. We haven’t found any evidence yet. If the roasting didn’t happen in the dragon’s lair, we need her to show us where it did. So we’ve got to get her off guard – get her to talk about something she wasn’t planning on. Hopefully if we stay on her long enough, she’ll make some kind of mistake.
RITA: But… what if we make the mistake first?
JUNO: Oh, then she’ll definitely kill us.
RITA: Oh! Is that all?
NARRATOR (IN BACKGROUND): Andromeda raced down the peak, feeling Draco’s hot breath on her neck!
JUNO: Look. You said you wanted to come along, and I don’t know how to operate the terminals that control this stupid funhouse, so I need you to keep it together. Okay, Rita?
RITA: I know, and I do wanna help, it’s just… sometimes I look at her face and it’s just so pretty I forget she’s the bad guy.
JUNO: Bad people come in all kinds of packages.
RITA: Yeah, but it just seems like a waste when the package is so beauuuuuuutiful…
SOUND: SLAP.
Snap out of it, Rita!
JUNO: Hey, uh… you don’t have to hit yourself so hard—
RITA: ‘Course I do! You’re relyin’ on me, boss! Polaris Park’s relyin’ on me! That means every little kid on Mars– no! Every little kid in the galaxy is relyin’ on Rita! And I ain’t gonna let ‘em down. Now come on, time’s a-wastin’!
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.
JUNO: …Huh.
SWIFT: Feeling better? We’re almost there.
NARRATOR: Andromeda raced down the peak, feeling Draco’s hot breath on her neck!
SWIFT: And that’s the last time you’ll have to hear that line, at least. Here’s the door.
SOUND: HEAVY DOOR SLIDES OPEN.
NARRATOR: The lions– lions– lions– village! Andromeda cheered as the– returned to the village! Liiiooooons—
SOUND: STATIC, ELECTRONIC GLITCHES.
RITA: Whoaaa. This room looks like it got kinda sick, boss!
SWIFT: Audio’s glitching out like crazy… can’t be good.
JUNO: Audio’s not the only thing that’s messed up – take a look at that cart. Banged-up and stuck in the side of one of these lions… looks like this thing flipped straight off the tracks.
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.
SWIFT: This must have been from when the engineers were running empty carts before their test ride. (WHISTLES) Well, we should probably keep moving. Ride’s almost over, and there aren’t too many other places it could’ve killed them. And if we don’t find anything, I guess that dragon spits real fire after all.
RITA: But… it doesn’t. We just saw that it didn’t spit fire.
SWIFT: Did you? I don’t remember that. I remember a whole lot of fire, in fact. Don’t you?
RITA: B– but…
JUNO: Right, fire. That’s what dragons do, isn’t it?
SWIFT: Hey, uh… what are you up to over there, Juno?
SOUND: CLANKING.
JUNO: What P.I.s do: poke around. There’s all kinds of debris in this cart. Fur and plastic and… huh. Whaddaya know.
RITA: Is that a license?
JUNO: Torn ID tag. Looks like it belongs to Marina Ricci, Polaris Park Engineer. And there’s blood on it.
SWIFT: That’s… weird.
Ricci, huh? She left a month ago. Fired after I caught her stealing from the supply rooms. No clue why her tag would be all the way up here… huh.
JUNO: A month ago? That’s interesting – blood looks fresher than that. Like, sometime-today-fresh. What were the names of the engineers that the ride killed again?
SWIFT: I don’t know. I have a hard enough time managing my team without worrying about Vega’s, too. …You don’t think Ricci could’ve been behind this, do you?
JUNO (NARRATOR): While Swift was busy cooking up a piping hot conspiracy theory, I did her job for her.
SWIFT (IN BACKGROUND): She seemed pretty ticked off when I fired her, and… she did have a history of aggressive behavior—
THEIA: Topographical analysis complete.
SWIFT (IN BACKGROUND): —plus, she’d definitely know the Dragon’s Peak well enough to break it in all the right places.
JUNO (NARRATOR): And just like that, I had the answers.
SWIFT: Uh, Juno? You in there?
JUNO: If Marina Ricci is in here, it looks like she went that way.
RITA: But… there’s nothin’ over there, boss. The tracks go this way.
SWIFT: You need a doctor, Juno? You’re talking nonsense and your eye is, uh… a whole mess of colors.
JUNO: Cybernetic eye, Swift. All the worst investigators have ‘em. It’s what gives us the leg up we need to stay in this business. Without it I wouldn’t be able to tell you that there are four pretty clear sets of footprints in the grass walking from the cart to that patch of sky right over there.
RITA: But… they just disappear into the sky? Where do they go?
JUNO: It’s not the sky, Rita. Remember what our resident expert Yasmin Swift said: everything in here’s holograms or robotics or practical effects. Which means if it looks like the sky, there’s one thing we know about it: it isn’t the sky.
SWIFT: (SNORTS) Oh, come on. I saw someone on the tracks up by the peak. That must have been Ricci! Are we really going to let her keep running while you walk in circles because your eye’s glitching out?
JUNO: I don’t think it’s a glitch, Swift.
SOUND: TWO METAL TAPS.
Bingo.
SOUND: DOOR CREAKS OPEN.
A door hidden in the holograms… says ‘Maintenance’ on the inside. This must be a service hallway of some kind. You know about this, Swift?
SWIFT: Like I said, I haven’t been through here in years.
JUNO (NARRATOR): It was the first time I hadn’t seen even a hint of a smile on Swift’s face. Northstar trains ‘em good, but I had nearly thirty-nine years of experience pissing people off, so really, my win was inevitable.
But more importantly: I didn’t need a top-of-the-line cyber-eye to tell me she didn’t want us in there… and that meant I wanted to go in there as soon as possible.
RITA: I don’t know, Mista Steel, it’s pretty dark and cramped in there…
JUNO: Still, seems worth checking out, doesn’t it? Bloody ID badge, four sets of footprints… oh, hey, that’s enough for all three victims and the saboteur, isn’t it, Swift? Think we should check it out?
SWIFT: Hmph.
JUNO (NARRATOR): And that’s when I knew I’d rolled the dice one too many times. Because then the old Northstar smile came back, genuine as ever… and I saw a plan flickering in Yasmin Swift’s eyes.
SWIFT: Yeah. We should check it out. It’s narrow, though; we’ll have to walk single-file. I’ll go first, Juno’ll take up the rear. We can protect this pretty little number easier that way.
JUNO (NARRATOR): I couldn’t let her win, I thought. And that thought’s exactly why she won.
RITA: Boss?
JUNO: How about I go first? I’ve got the gun, and we don’t know who’s in there.
SWIFT: That’s a great idea, Juno! Go on in. Then you, doll.
JUNO (NARRATOR): So we were stuck.
I knew she was suspicious of us by this point, but she didn’t know for sure that we’d caught her. Until she was positive, she still had a thin hope of getting out of here looking innocent… and even if that hope was getting thinner by the second, it still gave her enough of a reason to keep up that friendly park cop act.
I wanted that act to stay on stage as long as possible. Security Chief Yasmin Swift at least had to pretend to want us alive. Triple-murderer Yasmin Swift? Not so much.
So we walked down the hall: me, then Rita, then Swift.
SOUND: ECHOEY BANGS & CLANKS. METAL CREAKING.
RITA: I don’t like those noises, Mista Steel… I swear, if I hear one more boom or bang or pop I’m gonna boom-bang-pop right outta my skiiiiiin!
SOUND: ROARS.
OH NO OH PLEEEEEEASE NO!
JUNO: Rita, it’s just the stupid ride. We can hear it through the walls.
NARRATOR: (MUFFLED) “You have done it!” roared Chief Leo. “My, this crown truly befits the Chief of the Kings of the Jungle! Now, Andromeda, I shall show you your portal home!”
RITA: Boss, that wasn’t what I—
SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.
(GASPS)
JUNO: Damn it, are you gonna yell every time this ride sneezes?
NARRATOR: (MUFFLED) But even as Leo brought her to the portal, Andromeda felt guilt bubbling in her stomach.
RITA: That ain’t it, boss! It’s a kn-n-n—
SOUND: LOW ELECTRIC HUM.
(GASPS)
SWIFT: No need to jump, sweetheart. That was just me getting my stun knife ready. Thought I saw something in the shadows – I wanted to be… prepared.
RITA: (WHISPERING) Mista… Steel…!
JUNO: (GROWLS)
SWIFT: Door’s just ahead. Mind letting us in, Juno? The sooner we get out of here, the better – I don’t like not having a clear line of sight.
JUNO (NARRATOR): If I wanted to catch Swift red-handed, it’d have to be soon… and I’d have to use one of the Theia’s functions that I’d never touched before.
So I touched it.
THEIA: Rec Mode activated.
JUNO: (QUIETLY) Yes!
THEIA: Fifteen minutes. Remaining.
JUNO: (QUIETLY) No!
SWIFT: What was that, Juno?
JUNO: Uh… nothing. The door’s just… jammed.
SOUND: DOORKNOB RATTLING.
THEIA: Error. Cannot deactivate Rec Mode. Please wait for time. Out.
JUNO: (MUTTERING) I’ll give you a time out, you lousy eyeball!
SWIFT: Have you tried the doorknob?
JUNO: Ohhhhh.
SOUND: DOOR OPENS.
Look at that! It was pretty stupid of me, I guess.
SWIFT: Day’s still young. Plenty of time to act stupider. Not that I’d recommend it. Now move. Please.
JUNO: I’m goin’!
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.
JUNO (NARRATOR): Through the door was what looked like a central control room: a big, imposing terminal stood on one side, gathering dust, and there were two carts lined up on a track that snaked out the room through a tunnel in one side. Backups or maintenance carts, I guessed.
A control room in a ride that controls itself; a maintenance room the maintainers never checked. Not a bad place to lay a trap you didn’t want anyone to see.
JUNO: You sure you never heard about this before, Swift? Seems like a pretty major part of Andromeda and the Dragon’s Peak.
SWIFT: A major part of its maintenance, from the look of it. But, I’m not maintenance.
JUNO: Seems like a pretty big security risk to have all of your surveillance footage centralized for anyone to access.
SWIFT: This doesn’t have to get ugly, you know.
RITA: Wh-what?
SWIFT: I mean I’m a patient woman, but I’m not gonna stand for insults. I said I didn’t know about this room, that means I didn’t know about this room. I don’t want this to get ugly. But if you want a fight, Juno—
RITA: Oww!
SWIFT: —there’s a way this shakes out that looks bad for everyone.
JUNO: Alright, alright. Point taken. So… how do we make this look better?
SWIFT: That’s… a good question.
You made an interesting point. This system is pretty insecure, isn’t it? Think it’s so insecure you could crack it?
RITA: Oh, no, no no no, not him. Mista Steel can barely enter his PIN number, which is 33332, so forget about a two-hundred-digit password—
SWIFT: Just a flimsy password? That’s no good. Hey, if that’s all that’s keeping this ride from turning into a murder weapon, it really is dangerous. So, why don’t you head over to the terminal, and enter the password like Rita tells you. And if it works, I’m gonna have some stern words with Vega later.
RITA: I-I could just enter it myself, Yasmin—
SWIFT: Nope, I think you’re gonna stay right here with me. Go ahead, Juno. Enter the password. Or else this might get ugly.
JUNO (NARRATOR): So I walked up to the terminal and Rita started reciting the password.
RITA: Three, five, A, X, omega, twelve—
SOUND: SLOW BEEPS.
JUNO (NARRATOR): For five minutes.
RITA: —W, backwards-W, C-with-a-little-tail-thingy, five, six, seven, eight, umlaut-with-no-u, zero, and that’s it.
JUNO: Finally.
SOUND: ERROR BEEP.
What the hell? You sure zero was the end of it, Rita?
RITA: What? Zero wasn’t the end. I said ‘that’s it,’ didn’t I? You were supposed to type ‘that’s it.’
JUNO: You’re kidding me.
Alright. From the top. One more time.
JUNO (NARRATOR): So we burned another five minutes. And all the while, Swift stayed silent, smiling, and Theia ticked down.
THEIA: Rec Mode has. Five minutes. Remaining.
JUNO: (MUTTERING) I know, I know…
SOUND: BEEPS.
RITA: …seven, eight, umlaut-with-no-u, zero, and T… H… A… T—
JUNO: Yep, yep, got it, thanks.
SOUND: SUCCESS BEEP.
(SIGHS) Finally.
SWIFT: You’re in. Good. So let’s try to think like the saboteurs… what would they meddle with first?
I’m guessing… the controls to the different power lines are at the bottom left-corner of the screen. Seems like it’d be good for everyone if you checked those out, Juno.
JUNO (NARRATOR): And then I knew why she wanted me to use the damn terminal. Because if she did it, her back would have to be to us for the time it took her to enter the password… whereas if Rita did it, she might actually be able to cause some damage. Me, on the other hand – looking at those flashing buttons and switches and numbers and lights made me feel like my cyber-eye was gonna spin right out of its socket.
But I had to act. And if I was gonna convict Swift for this, well…
THEIA: Rec Mode has. Three minutes. Remaining.
JUNO (NARRATOR): …I had to act now.
Luckily, I still had something up my sleeve. Because Juno Steel doesn’t know a hell of a lot about computers, but he did pass all of his computer classes, which means there’s one thing he does know how to do: bluff.
SWIFT: Well?
JUNO: Yeah, don’t know how to break it to you, Swift, but I’m not seeing any “power” options. Just a lot of stuff about backup security footage… d’you know anything about this?
SWIFT: Backup what?
JUNO: Yeah, it says it was all recovered from drive wipes within the past twenty-four hours. Weird, huh? Should I play one?
SWIFT: Don’t touch that screen.
JUNO: But this is what we’re looking for, isn’t it? Let’s see what happened to that weird upturned cart earlier today.
SWIFT: Hands off the screen or your very pretty secretary gets it!
SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING, LOW HUM.
RITA: (SCREAMS)
SOUND: GUN COCKING.
JUNO: Drop the knife, Swift. The game’s up.
SWIFT: I told you it didn’t have to go this way, Juno. I don’t want to do this.
JUNO: Then don’t.
SWIFT: You’re not really in a position to be making demands. You messed up. It didn’t have to go this way. Now, slide that gun over to me, and then delete the footage like a good little lady.
JUNO: But—
SWIFT: Now!
RITA: Ow, ow, ow!
JUNO: Fine.
SOUND: CLUNK. SLIDE.
There. Happy?
SWIFT: It’s been a bad day, but at least it’s almost over. Now, delete the footage.
JUNO: What’s it show that you’re so scared of, Swift? The part where you waited for the engingeers who rode through earlier and flipped their cart? Or the part where you led them down the hallway at knifepoint?
SWIFT: Sure, I dragged the engineers in here. And sure, somewhere between here and the end of the track I… I mean, they got roasted. But knowing that isn’t gonna do you any good anymore, Juno, because you’re gonna wipe that evidence, and then you’ll have nothing. At. All.
JUNO (NARRATOR): And right on cue, my time ran out.
SOUND: BEEP.
THEIA: Rec Mode. Complete. The last fifteen minutes of video recording have been sent to. Ramses O’Flaherty. For analysis.
JUNO: Sure, Swift. Nothing. You want me to hit delete, here?
SWIFT: I do.
JUNO: There. Done.
SWIFT: …No it isn’t.
JUNO: What?
SWIFT: The terminal didn’t beep when you deleted it.
JUNO: Uh… “beep.”
SWIFT: I can see your mouth moving.
JUNO: No you can’t.
RITA: Ow! Boss!! Stop goofin’ around!!
JUNO: Alright, alright, I admit it. There were never any backups. I was bluffing, alright? I’ll go to your stupid power menu.
SOUND: BEEP.
There.
SWIFT: It’s about time. Now, play nice for three steps and we can be done with this nightmare, alright?
JUNO: Whatever you say.
SWIFT: Good. Activate Emergency Cart B.
JUNO (NARRATOR): There were five power lines on the screen. One: ‘Lighting and Audio’; two: ‘Carts and Robotics’; three through five: ‘Emergency Carts A, B, and C’. Only ‘Lighting and Audio’ was on. I tapped ‘Emergency Cart B.’
SOUND: BEEP.
And the first of the two carts in line started rolling away.
SOUND: WHEELS CLACKING ON TRACKS.
SWIFT: Good. Now, step two: catch.
JUNO: Huh?
SWIFT: (GRUNTS)
SOUND: QUICK FOOTSTEPS.
RITA: Whooaaa!
JUNO: Rita!
Oof!
SWIFT: And as for step three…
Hup!
SOUND: THUMP.
You stay here, and I catch my ride!
JUNO: Damn it, Swift! Get back here!
I gotta go after her, Rita.
RITA: Boss, I ain’t gonna let you run off again.
JUNO: No, you’re not. You’re gonna help me run off again, from here. I need you to.
SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.
Hup!
SOUND: THUMP.
RITA: Mista Steel! Get outta that cart!
JUNO: No can do. Think you can find a way to make this cart go faster than that one?
RITA: I… I mean, sure, it’d be as easy as activating Emergency Cart C – that’s your cart – and then, well I couldn’t do it all at once but if I got through the security protocol, I should be able to write a quick little virus that’ll sap power slowly from Cart B, and put it into your cart, so you keep goin’ faster, and it keeps goin’ slower, and—
JUNO: Sure, cool, whatever. Just do it.
RITA: But Mista—
JUNO: Now!
RITA: Oh, alright!
SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING. BEEP. WHEELS CLACKING.
Have fun on the ride without me, boss.
JUNO: I won’t. Watch me on the cameras, will ya?
RITA: Mista Steel, I am not just gonna watch you have fun.
JUNO (NARRATOR): Way off in the tunnel I could see Swift’s cart, and beyond her the green plains of Lion Village all over again. In the distance I heard the ride’s next room:
NARRATOR: (MUFFLED) But just as Andromeda was about to enter the portal back home, she heard the beating of terrible wings. “Draco!” the lions screamed. “The dragon is attacking!”
JUNO (NARRATOR): And then I had a really unpleasant thought. Swift knew Rita could operate the terminal, so she must have expected I’d come after her, and she must have had a plan. And then there were the engineers, who she’d dragged to this track before she roasted them – which explained where the missing Emergency Cart A went.
Then my own eye caught it an instant before Theia did: up there ahead, two little sparks, snapping on the walls of the tunnel.
I hit the deck just in time.
SOUND: FLAMES WHOOSHING.
Jets of fire screamed over me. I managed to duck the main blast, but sparks spilled over the side of the cart and caught on my coat. I flapped it out as best I could, and then the sunlight poured in. It was a relief to be out in Andromeda and the Dragon’s Peak again, where the fire was just hot air and nothing was what it appeared to be. Not even Security Chief Yasmin Swift, whose cart I was getting closer to every second, and who had my gun aimed at my head.
SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.
JUNO: Whoa!
SOUND: THUD.
SWIFT: (CALLING) Come out of there, Juno! You are not gonna make it to the end of this ride!
JUNO: (SHOUTING) Good. Isn’t there a big drop at the end? I hate drops.
SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.
SWIFT: (CALLING) Cart’s not thick enough to deflect laser fire! All I have to do is keep shooting holes in it, and one of them has to hit you!
SOUND: BLASTER FIRE.
NARRATOR: “You warned me, Andromeda, but I did not listen,” said Chief Leo. “Go on! Go through your portal home! The dragon will rage, and the lions will pay for my greed.”
JUNO: (SHOUTING) No, but seriously, how long do we have until the drop? I-I hate that sick feeling in your stomach when—
SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.
Well, guess you’re bored of that joke, huh?
NARRATOR: Andromeda looked at her portal. Home was within reach. Polaris at last. But a hero heeds the call.
SWIFT: (CALLING) Damn it! Sit still!
JUNO (NARRATOR): Swift’s cart banged into the doors to the next room and she lost her footing for a second—
SOUND: BANGS.
JUNO (NARRATOR): —just long enough for me to see what was comin’ next. A raging storm – leaves and lions tumbling in the wind. Carts ahead of us stretching up, and up, and up, and a robotic dragon looming overhead. Swift’s cart was slowing down, and mine was speeding up. In just a few seconds, it would be within reach.
SOUND: WIND BLOWING.
NARRATOR: And so Andromeda stepped out into the storm, and she shouted:
ANDROMEDA: I stole your treasure, Draco! Now fight me!
NARRATOR: And the dragon’s winds whisked her into the air.
SWIFT: Alright, Juno: stand up, and give up! …How the hell did you get so close?
JUNO: Your cart’s slowing down, Yasmin! Hup!
SOUND: THUD.
Ow!
SWIFT: Real graceful.
JUNO: Yeah, not my best, I’m a little distracted. Did I mention I don’t like big drops?
SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.
Whoa!
SOUND: LOW ELECTRIC HUM.
SWIFT: This could still end easily. Stand still, and I’ll make sure you don’t have to feel anything.
JUNO (NARRATOR): Luckily I’d learned a thing or two from watching someone better than Swift work his way around a knife. She cut a good gash into my shoulder—
SOUND: SLASH.
JUNO: Agghh!!
JUNO (NARRATOR): —but it was nothing twenty stitches and a month of physical therapy couldn’t fix. Besides, she only took fifty percent of my shoulders, and in the brawl, I managed to get one hundred percent of her weapons.
JUNO: Hah!
SOUND: METALLIC CLATTER.
SWIFT: Damn it! My knife! I’ll get you—
JUNO: Hah!
SOUND: THUNK.
SWIFT: Damn it! Your gun!
JUNO: I basically only got the one move but it’s working out okay so far. Wanna punch it out?
SWIFT: Love to.
SOUND: GRUNTS, PUNCHES.
NARRATOR: Andromeda and the dragon wrestled through the storm, trading blow for blow!
JUNO: Wow, I have had enough Andromeda for today!
SWIFT: God, Juno, she’s the galaxy’s favorite hero! What is wrong with you?!
JUNO: Let’s not get into that. Speaking of heroes: what the hell?
SWIFT: What the hell what?
JUNO: You, the murders, the whole everything. Like, what?! You work putting smiles on kids’ faces at The Place That Fun Calls Home TM for a decade, and then one day you decide, “Actually, screw this, let’s burn it and a few engineers to the ground?”
SWIFT: You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!
NARRATOR (IN BACKGROUND): Andromeda and the dragon wrestled through the storm, trading blow for blow!
Hahh! JUNO: Yeah, you’re right. I probably don’t.
(GRUNTS) But I’m willing to listen.
SWIFT: You don’t know a goddamn thing. This all could’ve worked out, but you don’t know a god! Damn! Thing!
SOUND: GRUNTS, PUNCHES.
NARRATOR: Andromeda and the dragon wrestled through the storm, trading blow for blow!
SWIFT: It’s about priorities! It’s about doing what you have to do, no matter how much you’ll hate doing it! I’d do anything for her!
JUNO: Her… you mean your kid?
SWIFT: Don’t talk about her. (GRUNTS)
JUNO: Agh!
MUSIC: STARTS.
JUNO (NARRATOR): Swift rang my church bell hard enough to make the angels nervous and I fell back against the corner of the cart. She was about to follow it up with a hit to send me really flying, too, until she noticed what Rita had been up to.
SOUND: CLANG. BRAKES SCREECH.
SWIFT: Why did the cart stop? What did you do?
JUNO (NARRATOR): Rita’s plan to sap the power from her cart to mine worked… a little too well.
We were frozen in place, now, at the crest of the ride’s biggest drop. The cart in front was stalled, no power at all, and the cart in back didn’t have the thrust to push both of them over the hill. A big, frozen robo-dragon hung over us, teeth still as stalactites and twice as sharp.
And below us lay Polaris Park, stretching out for mile after technicolor mile.
NARRATOR: And just before Andromeda killed the beast, she looked out… and saw through the distant portal. Polaris. The home she’d given up. Again.
SWIFT: Hah!
SOUND: PUNCH.
JUNO: Oof!
SWIFT: I’ve got you cornered, Steel. I don’t like to do this, you know. I’m not a killer at heart. Not really.
JUNO: (CHOKING) Funny way of showing it.
SWIFT: I didn’t like killing them, either. And I really, really don’t like killing this park. It’s worth more than all of you put together.
But you could never understand. I have to do this. A mother will do anything for her kid. You could never understand that.
JUNO: (CHOKING) Then why the hell are you doing it? Your kid doesn’t want this!
SWIFT: I don’t owe you anything! (GRUNTS)
JUNO: (CHOKING)
JUNO (NARRATOR): Above us, the metal dragon creaked to life. And there was no fire, not here, not this time, either. But…
Look, I didn’t mean to do it, alright? Because even if she was a killer, there aren’t enough people like Yasmin Swift. Everyone says they’d do anything for their kid, but the ones who mean it…
I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me.
SOUND: DISTANT WHEELS ON TRACKS.
SWIFT: The hell is that noise?
JUNO (NARRATOR): She looked away from me for just a second. And– I didn’t mean to do it. But… I guess, sometimes, no matter what the mouth says, the body wants to keep living.
So, without thinking… right before the cart Rita sent after us crashed into ours, I kicked Swift just enough to get her off-balance.
SOUND: THUMP. CLANK.
SWIFT (FADING OUT): Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!
JUNO: Swift!
Swiiiiiiiift!!
NARRATOR: And just before Andromeda killed the beast, she looked out… and saw through the distant portal. Polaris. The home she’d given up. Again.
ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.
***
JUNO (NARRATOR): When I got off the ride I found Rita there waiting for me.
RITA: Mista Steel! I’m so glad you’re alright!
SOUND: SOFT THUD.
JUNO: Ah!
RITA: I was so worried! I saw you on the video cameras and that mean beautiful Yasmin lady had her fingers around your neck, and I thought oh gosh! But then I thought what if I activate the line with the robots and the carts on it, and then one of them saved you, just like I planned, boss!
JUNO: I knew you’d do it, Rita. That’s why I asked you to stay behind, remember?
RITA: And it makes me sad ‘cause she did go splat, but… you were in danger, Mista Steel, and I had to save you. You can count on me, boss. You can always count on me.
SOUND: MECHANICAL, RHYTHMIC NOISES.
VEGA: Ahem.
JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked up, and there was Lorenzo Vega, on two rusty legs. He still wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry anymore. Now he just looked sad.
VEGA: Detective Steel. Meet me in my office. And Miss… Whoever-you-are, I don’t know how to repay you, but, this is a free park pass for you, if you want it, but if you’re tired of Polaris Park now I could under—
RITA: A free pass?! That’s mine, thank you! See you later, Mista Steel! Have fun at work—
SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.
(FADING OUT) —I’m gonna go eat my weight in popcorn and your weight in cotton candy and Frannie’s weight in glazed Saturn pops and the whole P.I. Registry’s weight in tiny pizzas!
VEGA: One of my engineers will show you to my office, Detective Steel. Don’t get lost.
JUNO (NARRATOR): Vega’s office was in the park’s back lot – behind the bright faces of the stores, in the dusty alleys where robo-puppets lay with their clockwork guts out and underpaid interns stood around with a cigarette in one hand and their cartoon costume’s head in the other.
The office itself was even more of a mess. Unfinished schematics on the wall, a three-foot-tall stack of work orders on the ground next to a chair, a pile of old Northstar merchandise on his desk – t-shirts and plastic mugs and action figures.
I poked through the toys for a minute, and before I knew it, one of them was in my hand.
SOUND: TOY SQUEAKS.
VOICE (FROM TOY SPEAKER): Here comes Turbo – the man of the future!
(AT THE SAME TIME) JUNO: Turbo’s here with turbo speed. TOY: Turbo’s here with turbo speed!
JUNO (NARRATOR): The voice nearly made me drop the damn thing. I used to have one of these. Hell, I used to have eight.
SOUND: TOY SQUEAK.
TOY: Stop right there, evil! The good guys always win!
JUNO: (QUIETLY) The good guys always… win.
JUNO (NARRATOR): My hands were shaking. I could remember it so clearly.
SOUND: TOY SQUEAK.
TOY: It’s time for justice! Stop right there, evil! The good guys always win!
SOUND: STRETCHING, RIP.
JUNO: (PANTING)
SOUND: DOOR OPENS. MECHANICAL, RHYTHMIC NOISES.
VEGA: Detective Steel. I see you’ve been having fun with my collectibles.
JUNO: Not really how I—
I mean… sorry.
VEGA: That toy was just a first-edition printing. Older than Andromeda. Older than you, most likely. As irreplaceable as Yasmin Swift.
JUNO: Don’t give me that. She was sabotaging your stupid—
VEGA: Or… as irreplaceable as Sarah Steel. That’s where I remember your name from, isn’t it? She was your mother.
JUNO: Listen, doc, I just want to wrap up this Yasmin Swift thing for Ramses and go on my miserable way.
VEGA: Sarah Steel… it’s been a long, long time.
I think I may even remember you. And that says something – I don’t bother to remember most people. She brought you into the office a few times, gave you your run of the Turbo merchandise. You and… oh, what was his name. Benjamin?
JUNO: Not Benjamin.
VEGA: Ben-something, anyway. You were charming children. …What happened?
JUNO: You’re the one with two metal legs, doc. I don’t think I gotta tell you that life plays a little rough sometimes.
VEGA: I was born without legs, actually. Life does ‘play rough’ – but so does birth. It’s not right, but that’s reality. Sarah seemed like life had given her challenges, too. I don’t think it was her fault, necessarily. Her being– I mean, Northstar letting her go like that.
JUNO: Didn’t ask.
VEGA: I was on the board that made the decision, and I don’t think we did anything wrong. I’ve never done anything I thought was wrong, but… we were just a little company back then. Everything we’d made was on the line! We only had the money to keep one of our writers and then your mother, trying to steal someone else’s work.
JUNO: What are you gunning for here, Vega? You want me to forgive you or somethin’?
VEGA: I just know things went poorly for her after that. Health-wise.
JUNO: Health.
VEGA: And I– expect that made things difficult for you. I’ve been thinking about that for thirty-four years, now. She doesn’t leave your mind easily, a person like Sarah Steel. Unique. Singular. A shame. She made some great things.
JUNO: So what? You want me to forgive you for firing her, or… something? Doc, I barely know the story. I don’t remember you. I was four.
VEGA: It was a difficult situation. She had some very real, well, needs. You might call them ‘moods’. And—
JUNO: Just… whatever. You want me to say I forgive you? Fine, “I forgive you.” But I really don’t care. And look: whether she had needs or moods or whatever you want to dance around and call it, the fact is she dealt with them for years, and then one day she stopped trying. Sarah Steel gave up. It was her fault, and it’s a good goddamn thing she’s dead because her mistake made a lot of misery for a lot of people. There. You happy?
VEGA: I would be a little more precise with my language, I think.
JUNO: Listen! If you don’t give me the junk you promised me on Swift right now—
VEGA: Yes, fine. We’ll drop it.
SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEP.
There’s a clause in our staff contracts that states we legally own any personal communications made within Polaris Park. So I made a copy of all messages and comms calls she’s made at work for the past five years.
JUNO: That’s… terrifying.
VEGA: That’s industry standard. We have to make sure our secrets stay mum– uh, pop. There’s an untraceable line she spent a lot of time yesterday talking to; bartering over a job, a payment, a place to pick up the, ehm, incendiary-device, all that kind of thing. Originally they wanted Yasmin to kill a cart full of park guests, but… she wouldn’t have it. She always was stubborn.
JUNO: Just cut to the chase. Anything interesting in there?
VEGA: You might want to read the last message she received from that number. Here.
SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEP.
JUNO: (SIGHS) “The first payment for your daughter’s procedure has been wired to Halo Medical. The remainder of your payment will be conducted in person once you’ve completed the job. Look for a woman with one ear outside the First Museum of Colonized History in… Hyperion City.”
It can’t be… the Piranha?
VEGA: If Ramses has an enemy, it follows that they’d be connected to his campaign in that roachhole. Why he wants to run it I’ll never understand.
JUNO: So whoever’s trying to get to Ramses, I’ll find a lead on them there.
It say what procedure her kid needed?
VEGA: I don’t see how that’s any of our business. And at any rate, any messages that got into specifics were sent outside of work hours, so…
JUNO: None of our business. Right.
Well, thanks for the lead, doc. I’ll put in a good word with Ramses.
VEGA: Do you like it in Hyperion City, Juno?
JUNO: Why do you care?
VEGA: Because…
Do you know the premise to the Andromeda stories? Generally, I mean.
JUNO: This important?
VEGA: I hope not. But… (CLEARS THROAT) Andromeda is the protector of Polaris, a beautiful kingdom of crystal and ice, until the day the evil wizard Orion casts a curse on her. She’ll wander the world forever, but no matter how she searches, she’ll never find her way home.
JUNO: This’d better be going somewhere.
VEGA: So Andromeda makes the best of it. She tries. Every day she follows the North Star, which lights the way to Polaris, and on her way she saves people, and stops Orion from hurting others. But she never breaks the curse.
JUNO: Pretty brutal for a kid’s show.
VEGA: Brutal? Maybe. I’ve always found it… beautiful. Sad, of course, but… Andromeda chooses not to accept any of the places she saves. She insists on going to this home, this place she can never go back to. And insists. And insists.
It’s ironic that the Andromeda pitch meeting is where your mother lost her… way.
MUSIC: STARTS.
Because in retrospect, Andromeda reminds me of Sarah. Lost, searching, never home…
SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.
Hold on, stop a moment. I’m trying to help you.
SOUND: DOOR OPENS.
JUNO: Think I’ve made it pretty clear how much I want this kind of help.
VEGA: You remind me of her, Juno. Truly incredible ability, a truly singular talent… with something powerful storming within you. Be careful. I’ve seen how that goes before.
JUNO: Later, doc. Really excited to never see you again.
SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.
JUNO (NARRATOR): Curses come in all shapes and sizes in this galaxy. Some curses come from evil wizards, and some come from a sickness you never asked for, and some come from a woman that nobody wants to let you shake, no matter how many years stand between you and her.
I was glad to get out of Polaris Park. I didn’t like to think about Northstar. I didn’t like to think about anything that reminded me of… her.
“Learn from the past or you’re doomed to repeat it,” they say. And maybe they’re right. But, if you take that too far, people shouting you down about the past every day, people telling you you’re going to be just like her, people saying the clock’s ticking and any day now you’re going to give up just like she did – that is a curse that fulfills itself.
I’m not going to be like her. I’m not.
(SNORTS) Famous last words, I guess.
MUSIC: ENDS.
***
SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.
CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Kate Jones, Joshua Ilon, and Bob Mussett:
SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.
JOSHUA: …Y’know, we see Juno suffering, we hear the inside of his head, so we know what’s going on there. But to also see how his internal suffering also makes the people around him have a tough time, it’s… I mean he’s out there, with no regard for his life, and, Rita needs to remind him, there are– you might not care what happens to you, but other people care a lot about what’s happening to you.
KATE: I like that you’re alive, so if you could keep doing that.
JOSHUA: Right. Yeah, which is an important thing for Juno to hear, I think…
SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.
CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.
We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Lynné Herman, Charlie Spiegel, Francie Liana, Minchowski, Gray, Jaimie Gunter, and the Princess and the Scrivener for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.
This tale, Juno Steel and the Dragon’s Den, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Kate Jones as Rita, Sarah Gazdowicz as Yasmin Swift, Bob Mussett as Lorenzo Vega, and M. Sutherland as the narrator.
On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.
The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.
I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.
ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.
8 notes · View notes