#because look he's been driving the bus in this direction for years now...

[kooktrash]

his special secret | kim taehyung

summary: you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 12.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. car sëx. oral [f&m]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. no protection. y/n is on top.

[REUPLOAD] HIS SPECIAL SECRET 2

You know when you're really mad to the point that you wanna cry? Not because you're sad but because you're so mad and you can't even act on that anger, especially not right now, you couldn't even show that you're upset because you're in class. Obviously it started off with your stupid ass ex-boyfriend's tenth apology text where it was mostly just him trying to gaslight you. Then it was because of missing the bus to campus which made you have to get a taxi and spend way more money than necessary, but get this, you spent like 20$ so you wouldn't miss your first class and yet it was canceled. Canceled! After spending that money to make it for that specific lecture you walk over to the room only to find a big fat 'canceled' sign on the door. Plus,  you had enough time to catch the next bus if the professor only posted or emailed everyone saying it was cancelled, hell you could’ve even slept longer.

Your phone is still being blown up and you just can’t focus on your painting today. You can’t mix the right shade and it is beginning to drive you crazy. Your palette is getting too full and your water is so dirty that it isn’t even cleaning the brush anymore. You had already been trying to keep your cool this entire time but now you can’t take it anymore. You were so upset with the trillion texts you were being sent and with your painting not going the way you wanted it too, oh and missing the bus and class being canceled, you were very clearly overstimulated and overwhelmed. You felt like there is nothing you can do but just give up for the day.

You stood abruptly taking your brushes and palette to the sink in the back of the room. You dried and packed them all up not caring to say anything to anyone else as you picked up your bags and canvas. You put your things away and left, not turning back to professor who looked up from helping another person to watch you leave so suddenly. You finally got your phone out and dialed one of your friend's number hearing it ring twice before they picked.

"What do you want? I'm trying to take a nude here?"

"Can you pick me up? I'm done with classes," you asked him. You weren't even that far from the classroom but you were done. You had been working on the same part for over twenty minutes and it was not getting any better so you just had to go.

"You're lucky I was gonna go get Bora too, I'll be there in fifteen," Jungkook said finishing up his last shirtless picture before going for you two.

"Will that be all for today?" A voice spoke up behind you as your call came to an end. You jumped looking back and following the voice's direction and froze at the sight of your professor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just—I can't focus today," you sighed rambling out a shitty excuse. He huffed crossing his arms over his chest. You swear your professor came from a world where only the most attractive people are born. It wasn't even you being dramatic, it's just the facts. He had dark hair always styled neatly, his face was angular yet soft and his dark brows made his expressions more attractive. His voice was always so low that it was quite literally mouth watering and he loved wearing long sleeve button ups where he could just roll his sleeves up if he got too hot. You looked at his face, snapping yourself out of your thoughts at his expression.

He looked annoyed, but he kept himself neutral as he spoke, "The exhibition is next month. You only have a few weeks to finish the piece before the submission deadline. Don't you think you should try to focus on your painting?"

"I did try Professor Kim, I've just been—there's just a lot going on and—" you stopped suddenly staring at his left hand, a silver band no longer there. You stuttered a little to start again, "I apologize."

"Mhm," he muttered looking away from you to the others inside the art studio focused on their work, "Just go on, make sure the next time you step into the studio you're more focused."

Dick. "Of course sir," you said turning your back to leave finally. You got to the campus entrance just in time meeting Bora along the way and the two of you got into Jungkook's car. He was shirtless as he drove.

"What's up with you?" You asked buckling yourself in as you got in the passenger's seat. He was on his phone looking up at you through sunglasses that made you laugh, "You look like such a douche."

"Shut up I told you I was taking nudes," he said as he drove away, "Plus I'm hungover and the sun's way too bright but I wanna know what took you two so damn long."

"Oh my god I left my laptop in the journalism room so I had to go all the way to get it and you know I hate walking too much," Bora said from the back seat. You sighed, "Mr. Kim caught me outside and he kind of lectured me but it's whatever. You won't believe what I noticed today—"

"What?" The two said in harmony ready for any sort of gossip. You looked genuinely surprised, "He doesn't have a wedding ring anymore." They leaned back in disappointment.

"Yeah we know," Bora said sarcastically, "Everyone's been talking about it since last semester. The word is he must've gotten divorced over the summer."

"Wait so it's almost been a year? How did I not know? He's so young," you said with furrowed brows trying to understand what you were being told. Jungkook sighed dramatically, "Because you had a boyfriend and you're not into older men."

"He's like 30, that's not old, first of all," Bora cut in, "And Y/n has daddy or mommy issues, so she's probably into older men."

"How did this get turned on me?" You asked looking between the two before settling your eyes on Bora, "He really got divorced? I thought he'd been with her since he was 20."

“Yeah, apparently word on campus is that he caught her with her coworker," Bora told you, "Minho from the Tech department heard it in the staff room. Apparently he was asked to help with some computer problem and two teachers were talking about it. He told his girlfriend and she's told basically everyone."

"Why do so many care?" Jungkook asked pulling up to your apartment. Bora gasped, "Why? Because he is literally the world's most attractive man? He's like a God. I promise you everyone has a crush on him and that's why so many of the beginner art class was filled. Everyone wanted to have him as a teacher even if they weren't art majors."

"Is that why you signed up for an art theory class this semester?" You asked turning to her. She nodded with a pout, "Yeah but it was already filled. You're so lucky he's head of the department and you're in your third year. You get to work with him more since his focus is on proficient students.”

"He's super strict though," you told her with a defeated sigh, "But I guess he's honest. You have to be ready to face critique and he's helpful. He just makes you feel like shit when you're not focused."

"I bet he's an ass because he's probably not getting laid," Jungkook laughed, "Divorce does that to people. Turns them bitter."

"Are you kidding? Look at him, women must be all over him, hell half of us on campus would gladly have him," Bora swooned. You looked down at your phone, yet another text message from your shitty ex-boyfriend.

"Y/n you should sleep with him," Bora joked, "Since you're both newly single and you'll be a good shoulder for him to cry on."

"Thanks but I like guys my own age and I’m pretty sure being his student already complicates things enough," you said absentmindedly before reading over the newest text. It's been at least two weeks and he still hasn't quit trying to gaslight you. It was ridiculous and so damn tiring. Your professor was right, you had to focus on art and this was only a distraction. You'll have to stay over time tomorrow because he hasn't left you alone today.

namjoon: I srsly don't get y you're still ignoring me

namjoon: you kno I'd never do something to hurt u

        One of the best parts about being an art student who has finished their prerequisites is that now you can really just focus on your work. So you'd basically go to one or two art classes and then you would go and work on your art. Bora was right when she said he was your mentor and it was in fact pretty exclusive.

You sold a painting last year in the Spring Art Exhibit for the university and Professor Kim became a lot more helpful. Despite his young age he had great connections in the art world from financers to auctioneers and museums. He helped proficient students participate in more exhibits and some art auctions where they could be noticed for their work and now you're one of them. Obviously he could be strict but it's because he saw potential in you and you definitely did not want to disappoint him. That's why you've spent majority of your day here well into the evening. You did have to work later but it would be open for at least another hour and that's enough time to adjust some color blocking. The sunset was long gone and you’ve barely been twenty minutes into your groove when someone else entered the studio.

You lowered the music coming from your speaker immediately at the sight of your teacher. He looked at you for a moment before continuing his walk to his desk. You tried going back to your work but now all you could think about is how dumb you were for not noticing he was divorced even if it didn’t matter to you at all. He was fishing some black portfolio out of a drawer as he spoke, "A custodian should be by soon to mop the floors and lock the room. You'll probably want to leave soon."

"Yes, I’ll start cleaning up now," you sighed as you looked at the very little work you got done. You could obviously try and work on it at home but that was too distracting. Your apartment was small and filled with distractions and there wasn't enough room for your things. It was a three canvas piece and with the easel and all your paints, brushes, palettes, and sketches spread out on the floor there's no room. At least here you had places to lock it up in. It got awkward again as you cleaned up your space and he did something at his desk. So, awkwardly, you tried to fill the silence, "Any plans this weekend, sir?"

"Nothing too interesting," he said seriously as he shuffled through some documents to find something, "Probably nothing like what all of you get up to on the weekend."

You assumed he was talking about college students. You went to one of those Universities that was extremely popular for producing majority of the well-paid lawyers, athletes, engineers, actors, musicians and artists. The student succession rate was high and yet every weekend every college student was out there getting completely shitfaced because of stress. You shrugged, "Well mine’s not interesting either, I have to work all weekend."

You doubt he cares at all but you said it anyway. Mr. Kim left shortly after with a quick goodbye and you rushed to catch the bus.

        Taehyung's weekend didn't completely start till Saturday night. His Friday night was filled with directing a new upcoming event happening. The exhibit is in a month and Taehyung's been stuck calling buyers and businesses for confirmation in their attendances. It was really a large charity event where large corporations get publicity and popularity from but a lot of the students who have managed to put their name out there are pretty well known in the art world. Many have gone on to create their exhibitions and events for their art and have had large commissions. The school did a really good job at providing their students with advantages in their careers and Taehyung was pretty proud to be helping his art major students. Of course it was stressing but it was an honor at his age. Obviously it helped that his parents were well known art curators and have worked with foreign and home artists for years. The only thing that was hard is how much work it really was and with the shitty year he's had he needs a break.

"It's been a year Taehyung, nobody's telling you to find another wife," his best friend Jimin said as him and his two friends sat at the counter of some lounge bar. "We're just saying you should at least have post-divorce sex with some random chick and let off some steam. It's a Saturday night, I say we hit up some night club after this."

"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to be shoved around by drunk college kids," Yoongi cut in as he read over the drink menu as the bartender showed up. He gave his drink order first putting the attention on Taehying and Jimin making him look up. His mouth opened slightly in surprise at the sight before him.

You managed to hide your surprise at actually seeing your teacher outside of campus but you were working and he was with friends. He was the one to stumble over his words when he gave you his drink order. Jimin smirked evilly when you turned to make the drinks at the way Taehyung was acting. You wore a black skirt and fitted black top with your hair and make up done.

"Well well well," Jimin whispered to the other two, "I guess I don't need to force you on blind dates. You can chat up the bartender."

"It was pretty awkward hearing you try and talk to her," Yoongi added in making Taehyung shake his head in disagreement. Still, he continued, "No, I—she’s my—she’s too young.”

"Taehyung, look at your gorgeous face, I doubt it matters, plus you’re a college professor! You’ve got a PhD, you’re well off, you’re artistic! It's no wonder everyone throws themselves at you, so go at it," Jimin said making Taehyung laugh, "Do you have a crush on me Chimmy?"

"Of course, I'm one of those college girls of yours who join your lectures just to for you to notice them," Jimin joked shaking his head, "And yet Jihyun is the one who cheated and not you."

"Way to bring that up," Yoongi hit him letting them conversation drop as you came back with the drinks taking their money, Taehyung looked after you. Did you work every weekend? He didn't expect you to be the type to work here. He doesn't usually pay attention to his students aside from during his teachings but you were obviously a different story along with all of his advanced students. He was your mentor and you spent a lot of time in the art studio. You mostly kept to yourself and did your work. He usually saw you stressed out but the other day was the first time in two years that you just walked out of his class. It was hard juggling the art piece from the Spring Art Exhibit and the final for their realism class but that's life and you leaving was so out of character to him.

It was still weird to see you give up that day. He obviously didn't know how you acted outside of the art department but he really was surprised especially considering the way you were dressed. He also didn't know you were the type to be friends with muscular men covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Holy shit that really is your professor," Jungkook whispered to you as he wiped the inside of some shot glasses. You and him stood at the other end of the bar gossiping. Jungkook smirked, "This is a sign, you should sleep with him."

"Do you ever think about something other than sex?" "Not really."

“Alright well focus on your own sex life and not mine. I just dumped Namjoon like three weeks ago," you complained, "Plus I'm pretty sure there's a rule against student and staff relations."

"Alright but you're 21 and he's like 30 so legally..." Jungkook trailed off giving you enough time to cut in. You sighed, "Just stop."

After some time you did circle back to the group of men and took more drink orders. While you were there one of them excused themselves to the restroom and the other got a call. In the end, Taehyung was the only one left. You found yourself stalling as you wiped your side of the lowered counter in front of him.

"I'm off," Jungkook came by patting your shoulder, "Want me to wait for you?" You shook your head at him, "No, I have to close remember?"

"Alright well call me if you change your mind," then he reached out and flicked your forehead, "See ya, Ugly."

You rolled your eyes swatting his hand away as your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He's such an asshole. Taehyung didn't say anything for a second and then said, "So this is where you go after the studio?"

"On the weekends yeah," you said biting your lip nervously, "Also sorry if I seemed disrespectful but you're out with your friends and I didn't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not offended I was just surprised. You're the first student I've seen outside of school-related events," he confessed with a small smile. From what he saw of you with that guy you definitely seemed outgoing. You seemed playful and maybe a little sarcastic but when he sees you in the studio you’re serious. When you talk to him it seems like you're always on edge and he still wanted to know what made you walk out the other day. Sensing another wave of awkwardness coming between you two you took a glass in your hand, "How about a drink? On the house."

"That's alright, I can pay—" "Sir, it's just one drink it'll be fine," you waved him off already mixing it before handing it to him, "You seem stressed."

Your fingertips touched his on accident as he took the drink. Your eyes locked once more before you were backing away to help some people on the other end. Taehyung has never looked at any of his students sexually but obviously he'd never been blind to the attractive ones. He'd been married for five years and he was loyal unlike his ex wife. Plus, he knew the position he was in and what it'd do to his career if he ever got involved with a student so the thought never came to mind. Right now though, he's having a hard time seeing you as a student and not just someone from the bar. Thankfully, his friends returned to him just as you caught him staring again.

Bora would be losing her shit over your small interaction with your professor. He was so unbelievably attractive and to see him in a setting like this made you want to do very bad things with him. Maybe their jokes about using your Professor for rebound sex was getting to your head. Obviously your friends never meant anything serious by that but wow did that seem do-able right now, especially considering the fact that he keeps staring at you.

"Come on Taehyung, let's go clubbing, I haven't gone in a while," Jimin begged him turning to Yoongi, "You too, let's go."

"Nah man, I'm not cut out for that anymore. I’m older than the two of you," Yoongi reminded making Jimin roll his eyes. He pulled on Taehyung's arm, "Let's go get you laid."

"Shut up, I'm not going, why don't you go? You don't need us," Taehyung told him. Jimin huffed gathering his things, "Fine. I will."

They waved him off watching him leave until it was just the other two. Yoongi sighed, "I should probably head home before Jieun comes to get me herself. It was nice drinking with you though, call me if you need anything."

Taehyung knows that he should just head out too. His two friends just left and he's got no reason to still be at the bar but he waited for you to come back and clean up their glasses.

"Your friends left already?" You asked him wiping at the counter.

"Uh yeah, I think I need to sober up before I head out though," he cleared his throat nervously, "Can I get a water?"

"Of course," you left for a second to fill it before coming back. You set the glass down in front of him stalling a little before asking, "I don't know if this is inappropriate or anything but are you alright sir? I, uh, I actually just realized you're not wearing your ring anymore."

His breath hitched for a second. He'll be a year since his divorce in two months and you've just now noticed? Well he doesn't expect his students to notice a small detail but still felt weird to hear it. He nodded in acknowledgment to your question, "It's alright, but yes, I'm not wearing my ring anymore. I had a divorce last summer."

"Wow," you said absentmindedly, "Well I hope you're doing well. I know this isn't all that similar but I actually just recently ended a relationship too."

"Oh?" Taehyung questioned with peaked interest. The nagging part in his brain was telling him to go before he got too curious about his student's personal life, "Is everything alright with you then?"

"Yeah it's fine," you shrugged leaving for a second to help someone else. Taehyung still waited even if he knew it was his chance to return to his empty home. When you came back he rushed to question you, "So, what made the two of you end it? Was he someone you were with since high school?"

"God no, we'd only been dating a few months but he still cheated," you blurted out, the topic still annoying you, "I mean, you know, some people just aren't worth it."

"He cheated on you?" Taehyung asked looking you up and down without much thought. He might be crossing the line with the next thing he says. You nodded no longer caring about keeping this to yourself, "With one of my closest friends actually. Safe to say I don't talk to either of them anymore."

"You're beautiful."

You froze. His words were mumbled behind his hand as he looked away from you, "I mean... you seem like a great person and I don't see why anyone would ever choose someone else over you." You didn't say anything for a moment before nodding your head, "Well I could say the same for you Mr. Kim."

Ah, so even if you just found out he was divorced clearly you’ve heard the rumors. It was embarrassing that his students and others knew what happened. The conversation changed after that. He asked about your progress and you went into detail about your work. He nodded listening, "Well maybe I could offer some guidance after class."

"I'd really appreciate that, and once again I'm sorry for walking out of class the other day," you bit your lip nervously and it had Taehyung doing the same. Stop, Y/n's your student and is at least nine years younger than you, he told himself.

His breath hitched as he tried to push his thoughts away before something bad happened. The two of you talked for another hour or two, before you knew it the bar was supposed to close soon as it was past midnight. Taehyung noticed the a sense of all other customers with a sense of dread, he'd have to leave now. He actually enjoyed talking to you, he's never connected with his students but you were easy to talk to. Obviously that was already inappropriate and he should just forget all of this but it was hard. He liked having someone to listen even if it weren't his close friends. He sighed as he stood, "So, you're closing soon?"

He was setting some cash down on the counter, a good tip that you tried to refuse. You nodded, "Yeah, I've gotta do some cleaning up unfortunately."

"How do you get home? You ride the bus?" He asked playing with his keys. You pushed some hair behind your ears, "No actually I'll probably have to call a cab since it's so late."

"Nonsense, if you're up for it I can give you a lift," Taehyung offered up before he could even process what he was saying, "I mean, I don't know how comfortable I'd feel letting you get in a stranger's car this late at night when I can wait for you. Unless you think that's inappropriate." It was.

You nodded, "I mean, if you don't mind waiting..." "I don't," Taehyung rushed to say, "I'll bring my car around to the front and wait for you alright? It gives me a chance to sober up some more anyway. You've got my number right?"

You did since he was your mentor. A lot of you students who were in advanced classes had his number since you all had a group chat. Taehyung would be lying if he said he hasn't had female students in the past be a little too suggestive in his messages but he always shut it down right away. The only reason he wanted to take you home tonight is because he actually enjoyed talking with you. He hadn't spoken with a woman this much in a long time unless it was school or work related. He's shot down every one of Jimin's offers to set him up with someone and when they'd go out drinking Taehyung was never interested in hooking up with strangers.

When you got in his car he passed you his jacket to drape over your legs and you thanked him, "Thank you so much, cabs are so expensive."

"Yeah, I bet they are, just tell me when to turn, alright?" Taehyung said as he pulled onto the street heading down the direction you pointed to. Your phone sat on your lap ringing and you didn't hang up or answered. If you hung up he'd just keep calling and calling.

He looked down at your phone before shifting his eyes back on the road, hand adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, "Do you need to answer that?"

"Huh? No it's just my ex," you told him honestly staring out the window, "He's still bothering me all the time."

"Mm," he hummed in acknowledgement as you pointed at what street to turn down, "He's still trying even after sleeping with your former friend?"

"Yeah, he thinks apologizing over and over again is gonna change my mind," you said with a shrug, "But that's done with thankfully. Don't you feel that way? Happy it's over?"

He waited a moment trying to think it over. Is this conversation with you wrong? Well in reality, getting you in his car this late at night is wrong. Thinking about how your perfume filled his car with a soft floral scent. Plus you were pretty, he'd thought that the other day too when he caught you in the studio so late. Your hair had been pinned back and your smock was covered in paint along with your hands. He had found himself stalling his mission that night before rushing home once he realized it.

"Um, I am happy it's over but it was also a ten year relationship that she threw away for one night," Taehyung said to you, "I'm happy it's over but it still upsets me. Sorry, maybe we shouldn't be talking about this?"

"Of course I'm so sorry Mr. Kim," you said turning away from him, "Um it's just up the street. The building with a gate."

He nodded driving forward. He was about to know where one of his student's lives. But why didn't he want to drop you off now? When he pulled up to the side of the building still a little hidden under the night sky he turned to you. Should he walk you up to make sure you get u wide safely or would that be taking it too far?

Maybe you were crazy or maybe your friends really got to your head because you did not want to leave. Obviously before you thought he was just your hot, married professor but now? After spending over an hour just talking to him and then him dropping you off home was messing with your head. Plus, you went through very similar experiences and he had to be at least a little into you to go out of his way to wait for you to take you home. Obviously it was wrong since he was your professor but in reality the age part didn't matter. Sure, you've always said you like guys your age but just look at Kim Taehyung.

So yeah, you were taking your sweet time unbuckling yourself and giving him his jacket back. He didn't say anything watching you sit up trying to get your things and for some reason he really did not want you to go. What he hadn't expected was the look in your eyes when you caught him staring again. This was wrong. He had to stop looking at you like that. He was nine years older than you and your college professor.

But then, you surprised him when you reached over the middle console. He didn't even have to think about what was going on when his hand was on your jaw pulling you closer until your lips met. He released a soft groan into your mouth letting his tongue lick along your lower lip until you gave him room to explore your mouth.

You were so eager, a hand on his thigh to keep yourself up as he tongue kissed you.  He should not be doing this, he knows he shouldn't but it's been so long since he's had anyone's hands on him but his own. He did not sleep around and he was acting out of character with you but in this moment he just needed to have you. The nagging feeling was still in the back of his head though.

You trailed wet kisses down his jaw, kissing along his neck arching your back into him. He couldn't stop the slide of his hand over the back of your skirt, groping a little at your butt as he reached over to touch you too. Even then he just had to speak, "This is wro—ng, you're my student."

You're not completely sure what came over you in the car but at the moment you did not care. Your hand slid closer to his inner thighs making his muscles tense. You were getting a little too close to his groin now as you kissed him shutting him up. He kissed back hungrily despite his words and then your hand was running over his middle. You sighed into his lips, "Nobody has to know, just tonight."

Taehyung didn't put up much of a fight after that. He let you unzip his jeans and button. His hand was at your throat pulling you into him while his other hand trailed down your back. Your short skirt was a little too tempting to reach out and touch. He licked his lips when you kissed down the middle of his collarbone where the top buttons of his shirt were undone. With the first grade of your hand palming at his growing erection he groped at your butt in the skirt. He nodded with a lick of his lips, "Just tonight."

He couldn't stop the deep moan that he released when your hand dipped into his briefs. He was sporting a semi but with the first touch of your hand on his hardening cock. You still hadn't even looked down to notice he was thick and long. He felt heavy in your hand as you palmed over him, too dry to feel good so you brought your hand up. You held it to his chin and with his eyes locked on yours he spit into it watching you do the same before bringing it back down to his member. He jumped at the first feel of the slick grip you had on him now creating a wet slide around him. He was panting, it'd been way too long since the last time someone else touched him.

Also, it helped that it was past midnight and how far was well tinted so you couldn't see anything from the outside. The car wasn't even on anymore. His hips met your hand's efforts to jerk him off, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of ass. After some time you pulled away from him making sure to pull on his lips as you backed off watching him try and chase after you. He watched through lust filled eyes as you shunned further toward your door backing your butt up so you could lean over the middle console until you were face to face with his slick cock. He bit his lip in anticipation, no longer thinking about how wrong this was the second your tongue licked up a fat stripe up the length of his member.

"Is this alright, sir?" You asked holding his cock in a loose fist while you left soft kisses on his mushroom tip. Your tongue poked at the vein on his underside, rounded innocent eyes staring at him that he knew were anything but innocent. He'd never been with anyone this young, he'd never even thought about this before he'd been married for five years and dating for another four or five. She'd been the last women he was ever with and his relationships prior to her hadn't meant anything. Yet, here he was enjoying the warm tight feel of your mouth on him that had him forgetting everything wrong with this.

He licked his lips, "Y-Yes, but call me Taehyung." He liked hearing you call him sir too damn much but considering all his students call him that he couldn't think about it right now.

"Alright Taehyung," you leaned up to peck his lips in a quick kiss that had him craving more. Then you flashed him a mischievous smile before coming back down to his member, "I'm gonna suck your dick now."

Taehyung shudders out another velvety groan as your lips finally wrapped around his whole tip. Hips rise off the leather seat to meet your mouth hoping to get himself deeper.  Wet warmth around his length and he's gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles whiten. You're far from gentle. The flick of your tongue over a thick vein before lapping at the slit on his head with every bob. The gentle suck of the tip. You've never found so much pleasure from sucking a man's cock before, but then came your hot Professor. Nine years older than you, too young to be divorced, and the man he taught you about art all week. None of that matters though when it comes to the deep growls and husky moans he releases as a hand plays with the end of your panties. A thing paid of things he had to pull out your underwear, fingers running over your covered slit.

Taehyung had decided the moment you reached into his jeans that he wanted to fuck his student. He wanted to let out all his pent up sexual frustration on his pretty little student who was just so eager to take his cock in their mouth. Who would've known he would've broken his head long dry spell for some college pussy. He brought his hand back from your underwear sticking his fingers into his mouth to lather them in spit.

He groaned when he hit the back of your throat relishing in the tightness of your mouth as he slid his hand to your head again, pulling the poor excuse for underwear to let his finger run down your slit toward your clit. You were so fucking wet, stupid wet actually and it only turned him on more.

His finger brushed roughly against your skin, a moan escaping your throat that sent vibrations around his dick. Taehyung toyed with your clit feeling more slick being produced by his touch. It was so fucking hot. The sec with his wife had gotten boring and repetitive over the years but this felt new and exciting. You were attractive to him from your looks to your art work and it was all hitting him at once.

"That's it sweetheart, take it all in your mouth," Taehyung panted stopping his motions, but pressing down against your clit. Your head began to bob harshly now, sucking him into your mouth while your hand stroked whatever didn't felt. He was feeling close but with how tight you felt, he needed to stretch you.

Taehyung hummed, rubbing circles around your cunt, his thumb gently massaging your clit. "Am I making you this wet baby? Should I punish you for it?"

You moaned and whined as Taehyung's fingers slammed into you, while rubbing your clit. You caught him by surprise when you bounced your hips forcing his finger in and out of your cunt at a speed you wanted and it made him groan deep in his chest.

He didn't stop fucking your throat as you fucked yourself on his finger giving him time to push another in too. He wished he could see this from an outside point of you. This thirty year old man getting his dick milked dry by a hot twenty one year old art student of his while he stuck his fingers into their tight pussy. He was so close, honestly surprised he'd been holding off this long. When his fingers began to feel your walls relax around him he knew you were ready for him now.

"Think you can ride my cock sweetheart?" He asked brushing your hair out of your face as you slobbered all over his member. You didn't need to be asked twice as you popped off him feelings his fingers toy with your folds but no longer fingering you. He pushed his seat back to give you more room before reclining his seat back. He guided you over his lap watching as you didn't waste a second in lining himself up with your wet pussy.

"I'm on the pill sir," you said calling him that name again that had his cock twitching. He nodded pulling you in for another kiss as his hands found your waist sinking you down his length. You moaned into each other's mouths. You slowly raised your hips and sunk back down on him, and he tightened his grip on your throat just slightly pulling you away from the kiss. Your face pressed against each others in breathy moans of want as he began to bounce you on his cock while bucking his hips.

It had been awhile for the both of you, though he knows you probably hadn't waited as long as him. He'd been dry since his divorce while you just broke up with tour boyfriend weeks ago. He had a feeling you were always eager like this for sex, and you clearly knew what you were doing with your mouth too and it was just so hot. He was kneading your ass as your head rested on the crook of his neck. He was so close but he was trying to hold off for you. He resort to talking, "This is wrong, y'know?"

Even then he said it with a buck of his hips loving the way your plump wet walls felt around him, "Only bad girls jump on their teacher's cocks."

"Mm," you whined teasingly as you sucked love bites into his collarbone, "You gonna punish me sir?"

"Oh fuck," he moaned when your walls clenched around him intentionally, "Call me Taehyung, love."

"Taehyung," you moaned into his mouth moving onto a quick grind of your heads into each other, "I'm gonna cu—"

"Do it, do it now, fuck Y/n," he held you tighter getting a little rougher now as he reached up for the handlebar on the roof of the car and used it for leverage as he forced his hips off the seat to push more into you. With the new force you weren't lasting long, your release hit you like a tsunami making you shake around him as he held your chest against his. He didn't stop thrusting though, trying to get himself as close to orgasm before he had to pull out of your tight walls as they twitched around him.

You let him raise you off his cock as you sat back down in your seat adjusting your underwear that had been pulled to the side this entire time. You reached across him with a hand jerking him off using your own release as lube and he was fucking into your hand forcing your mouth back on his. With a low grunt and a shake of his hands, he was cumming. Thick drops of creamy cum fell around your hand like a flood. You didn't think much about it as you pulled away from his lips to cover his cock in your mouth licking him clean as best as you could.

After some time you moved off him awkwardly pulling your hair out of your face as you cleared your throat. He tucked himself back in nervously as he adjusted his seat back up looking at his disheveled reflection. He couldn't even look at you, not because he didn't want to stare at your beauty but because it really was wrong. He was your college professor for fuck's same. It didn't matter his strong attraction toward you. What mattered is that he was in a place of authority and could easily lose his job and probably ruin your reputation. He couldn't do that to you but he really wanted you.

"I should probably head inside now," you said shyly as you grabbed your bag opening the door. Taehyung didn't say anything nodding his head watching you leave. He hated the fact that he looked at the length of your legs as you left. It wasn't right.

By Monday morning Taehyung wasn't sure what to think anymore. After the crazy night with you on Saturday it was all he could think about on Sunday. He met up with his friends for brunch and he couldn't help but rant. It didn't do him any favors that they knew something was wrong with him since the beginning. He ended up being honest and telling them that the bartender was his student and that they hooked up in his car.

At first they had been extremely confused by it all but Taehyung already felt guilty on his own as it was, he didn't need them making him feel worse. He expected them to slap him or tell him that he should never do it again. But they didn't say that. Instead they filled his head with possibilities that should never even be thought off.

"In reality you two are adults and didn't you say she's a third year? She'll graduate in a year so really there's nothing wrong with it," Jimin tried reasoning, "She wanted to do it right? Look, I'm just happy you got your dick wet. We both know it's been way too long, plus nobody is saying you have to keep seeing your student. It was just a one night hiccup."

He had to tell himself over and over again that it was just one night. He was thankful that when you walked into class you were in the middle of a discussion when another girl from the class. The two of you were talking so much you merely walked past his desk without a stolen glance. Good, it seemed like you had no intention on more. Great. Amazing. It was the right thing.

Today a male model would be brought in for you all to paint. He had a sheet draped over his intimates and once the assignment was started you put all your focus on it. You were supposed to use him to sketch a person and then use your own art style to tell a story. You tried not looking to your professor in case he felt awkward about Saturday. You kind of did.

Mostly because you could still feel his lips on yours and it made you nervous. You spent all of Sunday in your room trying not to freak out but you just felt so stupid. It felt unbelievably good for him but you knew it wasn't right.

"I swear to god these stupid fingers are pissing me off," your friend Yuna whined as she had to erase more charcoal. Neither one of you noticed the professor making his rounds to check on all the sketches down so far.

"Think about which perspective you're using and the proportion of his hands where he has them placed," Mr. Kim told her pointing to areas that seemed off. You could feel your heart race when he made his move to you next. He was hesitant at first to speak to you, just standing behind your stool watching your sketch and he only stepped closer when he had advice.

"Pay a little more attention to the line of his body, focus on proportions too and use more shadowing,” he said pointing at spots in your painting. It felt like he was too close but neither one of you were actually bothered by it. In the mix of slight regret there was also this strong wanting for a recreation of that night. Neither one of you would actually go for it though. Right? Not again?

He looked down to make sure you were listening, your eyes lcking for a moment before you both looked away nervously at the realization of your proximity. He didn't notice the way his tongue ran over his lips before biting down on his bottom one in remembrance. You're wearing the perfume from the other night.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung looked away from you standing straight again, "But other than that it looks like you have more done than others, thank you for focusing better today."

"Of course sir," you said absentmindedly looking back to your sketch too. It took him a second to move away. He'd never felt so damn embarrassed at the fact that he had to focus so hard on not getting turned on and breaking a sweat. This is exactly why he asked you to call him Taehyung only but of course you would slip up since you were used to referring to him with the honorific. But right now he could only think about what you'd said to him that faithful night.

"You gonna punish me sir?"

Looking down at you nobody would ever guess you'd say something like that but he knew you did. He heard you say it and he really liked it—

"Sir do you mind taking a look at mine?" A student asked snapping him out of his thoughts. He had to look around to find where he was still a couple feet behind. He didn't bother responding as he started working that way not noticing the way your eyes followed after him making you smudge a mark across your paper. With a small annoyed huff you worked on cleaning it up again.

After class you were one of the last to leave the room. You've been thinking about him nonstop but because of the positions you're in, you shouldn't. But in reality, you were two adults who happened to have sex. There was a sense of sexual attraction and honestly, hooking up with someone other than your ex definitely did something to you. Considering the fact that he definitely seemed affected by your presence in class, you found yourself staying another late evening at the studio making sure Taehyung saw you the next time he passed by the room.

He did see you again a couple hours later. He was locking up his classroom ready to leave at the end of the day finding you through the door's window. His steps faltered, head turning as he looked at his surroundings. Then, he was pushing the door open letting himself into the studio. The other side of the room was all glass windows since it face the courtyard but it was dark out there. In the room all the lights were off too minus a lamp by your table and a light above the sink.

You turned instantly with the sound of the door finding him standing by it. He ran his fingers through his hair that had been casually combed back. His other hand was stuffed in the pocket of his corduroy slacks with his tote bag hanging off his shoulder. He licked his lips nervously, "I just came to let you know that the custodian will be around."

"Thank you for the reminder sir," you said with your back to him to hide a playful smile, "Or is it Taehyung? I forgot."

His breath hitched as he stared at you from across the room. You turned to look at him, the lamp above your head creating a shadow in your facial feature but appearing like a spotlight only for you. It made him feel further into the shadow at the corner he stood. He really wanted you, but it just didn't feel like he should. He was your mentor. He was nine years older. You were a college student and he was your teacher. It definitely wasn't right. But he was just so attracted to you in this moment.

"Well it depends on what we're doing," he answered absentmindedly realizing a second too late his response was flirty. He had no reason to be in the studio at this moment but he made up an excuse to go in anyway just because he wanted to see you again.

When you finished cleaning up you were walking toward him. He looked down at you through a hazy gaze as you reached for the door handle pulling it open. Taehyung simply followed behind calmly as you spoke, "Did you have a good weekend?"

His pace slowed for a second trying to unravel your question and the subtle approach you took. He's quickly realizing you're a bit promiscuous. Your nonchalant hints of something more that only he could understand but everyone else thought nothing of it. You were a tease but you hid it so well. He thought for a moment about how to word his response, "My weekend was great, and yours?"

"Oh it was really fun," you answered as the two of you walked down the path through the courtyard, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"Mhm," Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment looking around again to see if anyone was around, "I can imagine what that's like. Hopefully you have more like it."

Your eyes met in a side glance as the split in the sidewalk separating the parking lot from your bus stop. He played with his keys like he did the night at the lounge bar, "Going to wait for a bus?"

"That's the plan unfortunately, unless someone were to come around and take me home," you said with a shrug looking away from him the further you walked down your split sidewalks. Teahyungs voice the further he got from you, "I'm sure someone would love to drive you home."

So you said your farewells and you sat at the bus stop nervously. Maybe you were a little too obvious with you felt and he was probably worried. He most likely regretted getting involved with you.

Of course that was the opposite. He knew he shouldn't but really it was because of the university. Aside from that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to someone younger. You were both adults. That's why he was rushing to his car pulling out of the driveway and going around the corner to the bus stop. He waited a few yards back from the bus stop flashing his emergency lights at you and in an instant you were up and walking to the car. He rolled the window down flashing you a smile as you opened the door.

He did end up giving you a lift but it wasn't to your apartment, it was to his.

        "I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I've got this feeling that you're seeing someone," Jungkook told you with narrowed eyes. He was currently walking you to your class before going home. He always had shorter days than you and Bora since he worked in the afternoon but he always hung out with you two.

"I'm not seeing anyone," you told him simply as the two of you walked along the sidewalk. Jungkook just hummed in acknowledgment as he carried your canvas for you.

"Yeah, sure you aren't," Jungkook responded, "You don't have to tell me if it's supposed to be a secret. Is it supposed to be a secret? Oh my god are you dating someone in a relationship?"

"Why would I become a homewrecker when I've been cheated on?" You asked him clearly displeased with his assumption. He shrugged staring down the hall to the studio, "I'm just curious why you're keeping it on the low. Is he like, not someone you should be with?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you I'm not seeing anyone," you responded back to him entering your classroom. Taehyung was standing at his desk watching everyone walk in when he noticed the same tatted guy helping you with your canvas.

"Jungkook! Hey man, what are you doing here?" One of the other students called out to him. It was Seungjin, he was in your department and you knew each other better through Jungkook. Occasionally you'd talk but not always. He came over to where you and Jungkook were to talk as you got all your things settled.

Taehyung found you standing in the middle of two guys smiling over whatever they said watching the one with tattoos pull you into his side. Technically, class hasn't started but he can't stand the sight. Just a couple days ago you were wrapped in your professor's bedsheets sleeping soundly next to him. Now you're here with two guys your own age who were making you smile and laugh.

He shouldn't be surprised you had a lot of male friends. You were clearly well known around campus and people always approached you during class. Even at your job he found all the guys behind the counter trying to impress you with whatever. Even Jimin and Yoongi commented on your looks so really, this was normal. You had a boyfriend before of six months who cheated on you—which Taehyung would never understand why—but you also told him about other past relationships. Taehyung felt like he was different than your usual type and though he could say the same about you, right now he's getting annoyed.

He smiled down at the papers on his desk but it was anything but genuine. It was a forced smile to remind himself it was alright. It's not like you two could be forward with what's happening, not until you at least graduate next spring. As his class began to fill he finally had the nerve to approach you. If he could just get any guy your age away from you that'd be great. He was 30, he couldn't compete with all the college guys who surrounded you, had the same energy as you, got the same references. Taehyung's a millennial for Christ's sake, you're a Gen Z.

He made his round toward you well calculated. He greeted other students along the way to seem natural before he zoned in on where you were. He got close enough just in time to hear his student, Seungjin, speak, "Let's go drinking tonight, bring Hoseok with too. He hasn't been around in a while."

"Alright so us three and Hoseok? Should I tell Bora too?" Jungkook asked.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you can continue this conversation outside of the art room," Taehyung's voice was bitter. He didn't want you going out with three guys tonight. He wants to order pizza for the two of you while you go into detail about your art piece for the Spring exhibition at your place. It was definitely a college student's place. He only went in the morning he dropped you off home after spending the night with him. You invited him in for a drink and he was too curious to say no.

Compared to his neat, bachelor pad, yours was chaotic. His place was clean, dark, and modern. Yours was ecliptic, slightly unorganized with paints and brushes everywhere. Thick woven throw blankets and patterned pillows. Hanging plants that were halfway between dying and thriving. You had vinyls piled in a corner with books. You had colored LED lamps, it was basically like a hippie fest at your place. He liked it though, compared to his place yours was warm and welcoming. He liked that he could see little pieces of you everywhere he turned.

When he first moved into his own place it felt cold. He never lived on his own like that. From his childhood when he lived with his family to college when he lived with roommates and finally when he lived with his ex wife.

Jungkook looked up at your professor who seemed slightly out of focus staring at your canvas. Jungkook's never gotten an up close look at him but Bora was right, he was an attractive guy and you seemed slightly awkward now that he was here. He looked between you two, his best friend senses tingling when he watched the way Taehyung bit into his lower lip when you brushed your fingers through your hair. Seungjin was too busy apologizing to the man telling him they'll get right to work.

"Sorry Professor Kim, I'll get going now," Jungkook said warily as he went and shoved your head to the side playfully, "Am I picking you up after?"

Before you could respond Taehyung was cutting in, "Actually I've asked miss Y/n to stay behind, we've got some discussing to do about her piece for the Spring Art Exhibit."

Obviously he hadn't but you didn't even dare to deny his claims looking to Jungkook, "I'll text you, go, you're interrupting class time."

"Once again, I apologize sir, I'll be leaving now," Taehyung had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded. Jungkook bowed respectfully before turning around to leave, glancing back at you two to catch your Professor glaring at Seungjin who was pulling his things closer to you.

Jackpot, Jungkook thought when his eyes caught sight of a small purple bruise peaking out from under the collar of the professor's shirt. He was clearly seeing someone too and Jungkook's curious to know who.

Taehyung returned to the front of the room after continuing his round around his students and started his lecture on surrealism. Seungjin sat next to you now that he'd been talking to you and Jungkook and you didn't mind. You'd hung out with him a few times outside of class and he was fun to be around. Still though, you couldn't focus on what he would say when you were so focused on Taehyung.

Had he been jealous because of them? Or was he annoyed that you were delaying class time? After class would he keep you around to tell you, 'Just because we're having sex doesn't mean you can do whatever you want in my class' or was that just an excuse so Jungkook wouldn't be able to pick you up?

"Sir if it's alright with you, I'd like to discuss my work for the exhibit too," another student pointed out at the end of class. Taehyung huffed in annoyance as he looked up to find you waiting as well. You looked away, "I could always come after my last class? That way you two could discuss privately?"

He tried hiding his smile. Obviously he wanted you alone, not with another student there so he nodded in agreement watching you leave. He had to work on keeping things lowkey. You're way better at it than he is. To be fair he's been out of the game for ten years and he never had to keep a relationship a secret before.

"Perfect! I was just coming to find you, are you coming with Jungkook and I to find costumes for the party this weekend?" Bora asked once you'd left the classroom.

"What party?" You asked confused. She gasped dramatically, "The costume party! Halloween in Spring, as Hobi calls it. Jungkook's waiting by the gate."

"I've still got one more class and then I've gotta meet Professor Kim and talk about the Spring Exhibit," you told her.

Bora laughed, "Yeah you should have your discussion while riding his face."

"What?" You sounded on edge and it only made Bora laugh harder.

"I'm kidding obviously, but I'd gladly sit on his face," Bora said with a shrug, "Alrighty then, text me later and I can go shopping with you tomorrow if you don't have time today. Jungkook and I are just going to get an idea before we meet up with the others tonight for drinks."

"K, bye love you," you waved her goodbye as you went to your last class for the day. You couldn't focus on it though, not when you kept thinking about Taehyung. That's why the second it was over you were rushing over to his room.

Luckily there was no one around when you let yourself in and he barely gave you a glance before pointing to a box of painting palettes, "Mind helping carry those to the storage room?"

You nodded taking the box as he took another one before walking you to the back of the room. He opened the door to storage room and let you in first looking around through the windows to make sure nobody was watching. Then, he entered closing the two of you in as you set the boxes down. The second he turned to you, you were jumping in his arms. Taehyung's hands went to your waist holding you up as your lips met in a hungry kiss that had him groaning in want.

After some time kissing like that he set you back down but his arms didn't leave your waist keeping you close. He looked down at you, "What are you doing this weekend? Let's go out of town."

You made a pout that had his eyes rounding in curiosity and anticipation searching yours for answers. You looked down hugging around his middle section, "My friend's throwing this costume party on Saturday and everyone I know is going. If I don't go they're going to get suspicion."

"Well just tell them you'll be seeing someone but you're keeping it private," he said hopefully squeezing you in his hold a little more. You just fit so perfectly in his arms despite the taboo of it all.

"I've tried but they won't quit. Trust me, once Jungkook and Bora get suspicious that's a wrap. Jungkook is like a ducking detective when it comes to other people's business," you explained watching the way his jaw clenched as he looked away from you sadly. You rested your head on him, "What about next weekend? Are you free then?"

"I'm free, I can make reservations now," Taehyung said biting his lip, "Alright I'll go out first, make sure the coast is clear."

You nodded watching him turn to the door before stopping to look back at you, "Since I can't spend the weekend with you, maybe you can give me tonight? We can order in, watch a movie..." He seemed strangely nervous as he spoke.

Jungkook and Seungjin did make dinner plans tonight but you didn't care much about that. You'd rather get laid and spend the night with a guy who interests you. You don't want to jump into things so quickly because you could easily get hurt. It didn't change the fact that you felt safe and comfortable with him. Even when you just saw him as a mentor, yeah he could be strict but he was also very good at consolation. He'd constantly tell you how talented you were and that you shouldn't forget that even when you're feeling down.

Then obviously you're getting closer to him so it's not bad to want to spend time together. Were you dating? Not that you know of? Would you consider him to be the only man you're sleeping with? Yes. Could say that same about him to you? Probably? He didn't seem like the type to mess around with just anyone and you've been talking on the phone on nights you can't see each other.

"Then, should I wait for you down the street?" You asked once he signed that the coast was clear. You both left the room stalling as you got to the door.

"Of course, make sure you do your school work too."

"Yes sir, I'll work on it tonight," you said as the two of you stood outside now. He bit his lip to hide a smile, "Well have a good night."

"You two, thank you," you said your goodbyes as you walked in opposite directions. Then, like a constant cycle, he was picking you up in his car.

On Friday night you spent the night at Taehyung's place. It's crazy how quick the two of you have progressed but it didn't feel forced. It's like, when it was just you two you could forget about the fact he was your professor. Even when he'd quite literally tutor you for some of your required course it didn't feel like he was your teacher.

The main reason you spent the night is because you wouldn't be able to see him this weekend other than Saturday morning. Tonight you'll have Hobi's party and you had to work Sunday and Monday night. You had already dedicated next week as crunch time for your paintings so you really weren't going to be seeing him outside of class and the art studio.

So, he drove you about fifty minutes out of the city to some expensive rooftop restaurant for lunch. You wanted to spend as much of today as you could with him before Bora would be getting to your house to get ready for tonight. The restaurant was far enough and way too expensive for any of your class mates to be here so it was the perfect place for a nice lunch date. Taehyung clearly had money from his career and his parents so it wasn't a question that he'd want to treat you to something nice. He wore a YSL cream colored button up shirt and black slacks while you wore a little black dress.

The two of you walked in with linked arms letting the hostess lead you to a table while you talked. You look extra pretty today. You wore light make up that accentuated your features and your hair was styled in a way that really suited you. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, if he could he would've noticed the waking nightmare about to cross paths with him.

"Tae?" His blood ran cold as the two of you looked up, the hostess waiting at your table for the two of you. You stared at the woman and man in front of you. She looked you up and down and you did the same shamelessly. She had black hair up to her shoulders and bright red lipstick. She wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt. An ugly pencil skirt in your opinion.

"Jihyun..." Taehyung cleared his throat and it didn't take you long to realize who this woman was. The man was quiet but he looked uncomfortable yet you felt his eyes travel down to your exposed legs. You knew this must be his ex wife and you expected Taehyung to take his arm away from your hold. It must be awkward for him to be seen with you. You were obviously sticking out from the more mature group in appearance.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to see you doing well," Jihyun said with a forced smile. You wondered if the man was the coworker she cheated on Taehyung with. His arm almost pulled you even closer to his side, "Yes, I am doing well. Oh, this is Y/n."

You gave them a tight smile leaning into Taehyung more. He smiled at that, "It looks like our table is ready so we'll get going now."

"Was that your ex?" You asked once the two of you were to the table. Taehyung nodded before flashing you a smile, "But let's not think about that. This is our first official date so let's make the most of it before we have to get going."

Without thinking you leaned across the table and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before going back to looking at the menu. Before the food arrived you excused yourself to the restroom. It was windy and you could not have your hair all over the place. While you were in there you reapplied a light layer of lipgloss as a stall opened.

You couldn't believe your luck when the cheating hag—you mean Jihyun—came out. It made you smile a little as you wiped up the corners of your lips. She gave you a look as she went to wash her stupid musty hands right next to you.

"Taehyung seems to be doing well lately," Jiyeon said washing her hands. It was the second time she'd said it like she expected him to be crying in his room, "I've known him for a very long time an—"

"I don't really care how long you've known him," you flashed her a perfectly fake smile, "And of course he's doing well. Why wouldn't he?"

Jihyun pursed her lips in annoyance, "I'm surprised when he didn't introduce you as someone he's seeing. He only said your name, it's very strange."

If Taehyung wasn't going to do anything that's alright but she's clearly judging your appearance and possibly your age and relationship with him too.

"I really like your skirt," you added with another fake smile, "Only some women can pull off that kind of look. Unfortunately it's not for me, it's too bland?"

She scoffed as she ran her hands under the sink water, "It's office attire, but you look a little too young to know anything about that."

"Oh to be young and beautiful, do you miss those days?" You said finally closing your little handbag. In fact she was only 30 but if she was going to act like this then you would too. You ran your fingers through your hair one last time and check the back of your dress in the mirror, "I'll go first since Tae is waiting for me."

You began to walk away, Jihyun stayed at the mirror for a second trying to process what is happening. You must've been more important than she thought because it looked like you clearly knew who she was. You were bitchy but that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was that you were... everything Jihyun wished she could be when she was younger. She doesn't know your age but Taehyung was surprised he could even attract someone like you. The Taehyung she knew would never be into someone like you.

He had always had a sort of timid, mysterious nature on the outside and Jihyun had been the same. That's why it was so easy for them two to get close so long ago. Jihyu had always felt insecure when it came to the confident appearance as girls like you but Taehyung always assured her he never cared for looks like that. Clearly that been nothing but a lie if he is with you.

She barely made it out the restroom's entrance when she stopped in her tracks.

She had a clear view of your table, right by the glass ledge of the rooftop. Taehyung's smile was bright as he laughed over something you said and when she looked closer his hand was in yours.

He had never been the type to be openly affectionate. It had been years since he last looked at her that way. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but Taehyung had never looked at her with that gleam in his eyes like he was giving you.

"Can I come over tonight?" You asked tracing swils with your finger on his hand, "After the party I mean or will that be too late?"

You're not sure if Taehyung seeing his ex actually affected him or if he was genuinely okay but whatever it was you wanted to make sure he was okay. He already told you he'd be playing tennis later with his friends but later tonight maybe he'd want to see you.

"Hm, it will be late but I can pick you up from the party if you don't care. I don't want you driving a cab so late especially if you'll be drinking," he said as he used his free hand to eat while the other held yours.

"Aw, sir aren't you just so sweet? Maybe we can reenact our first night together in my bunny costume tonight," you said it to tease him but you were also being serious. He was so attractive you swear you could just eat him up.

Taehyung nearly choked on his water but he couldn't help but smile, "it's barely noon and you're already thinking of that?"

He felt the tip of your foot against his leg, pulling on his pant leg teasingly. You gave him an innocent smile, "No, I just think about you and then I think about how much I want you."

He placed a kiss to your knuckles, "Always so eager."

"For you."

::.

this flopped so bad last time so pls YALL 😭

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[spidrzfall]

Bus ⤑ Peter Parker.

This fic is heavily inspired and taken after the Bluey Episode 'Bus' !! which is just the cutest episode in the whole show that i have the biggest inspiration for it hehe !! Enjoy you guys, Love A.

☆° Peter Parker x Male Reader

☆°• fluff!

°•▪︎ Fem readers DNI ♡♡

♧ warnings: none! !!♧

♡ NOTES: none !!

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The second (M/N) stepped out the door he could feel the nerves in his body consume him whole. His leg bounced up and down as he waited at the bus stop, trying to locate where the bus was and when it would arrive. For the past month and a half (M/N) has been taking the bus…more specifically the 4-11, usually at this time it was empty, with no passengers and if there were it would only be a few which was a miracle! Nevertheless (M/N) appreciated the idea that there weren't any passengers…especially because he had the biggest crush on the bus driver, Peter. 

As the bus pulled in at the same time as always causing (M/N) to stand up and walk up to the two front doors of the bus that hissed open as Peter announced, “Bus stopping! Doors opening!” As his eyes made contact with (M/N) a bright smile saw his usual passenger on the other side as he began to speak, “Mornin’ Passenger, where are you headed off to today?” Peter glanced at the man seeing him insert some coins into the slot of the bus before hurriedly making his way to one of the seats closest to the window in the 2nd row. “The Art Museum, Please!” (M/N) managed, his voice somewhat high pitched and quick feeling the familiar nerves hit him at once as he spoke to the brunette.

“Huh…okay?” Peter murmured to himself before grabbing one of the stick gears next to him and announcing that the doors would be shut close now as he hummed a small tune as he continued to drive. Unknowing to him about the nervous wreck that was (M/N) who occasionally glanced in Peter’s direction the air inside thick with awkwardness and clear silence the only sound coming from the city as Peter took note of the lack of traffic, “There isn’t much traffic today, so it should be a smooth drive to the Museum. That is unless something get’s in our way but I doubt that’s gonna happen, we shouldn’t take that long to get there” Peter broke the silence as he continued to drive, his eyes on the road as he spoke to the man behind him who replied shortly afterwards “Oh, That’s…great”

(M/N) would be lying if he said he didn’t wish that something would make the bus ride a smidge bit longer, sure he and Peter never talked and it was just a silly distant crush but he liked Peter regardless that even if they had to sit in silence the whole ride, (M/N) would enjoy it anyways. The bus taking it’s usual course as Peter made a stop towards on of the bus stops nearby, “Yeah, it’s most likely going to be a smooth trail from he…” Peter cut off as he opened the bus doors to let in passengers as he groaned softly, Richard and Gladys. “Oh no..” Peter murmured as he ran a hand through his face, a look of boredom and slight annoyance crawled its way to him seeing as Richard and Gladys slowly approach the buses entrance.

Peter didn’t know where to begin with Gladys and Richard, two old folk he had picked up roughly 4 different times in the 2 years he’s been working as a bus driver but even from those few interactions boy did they leave an impression on Peter. For two old people they were quite annoying, Richard was always up in everybodys business and everybodys lives concerned him which was sweet but highley overbearing especially when the older man always tried to take matters into his own hands. Gladys was almost the opposite, a very sweet woman but just as colorful as the older man. She was hard of hearing and would constantly not pay attention to almost anything anybody would tell her as well as being incredibly clumsy and unfiltered. 

“We’re on our way to bingo, darling” Gladys began as he opened up her coin purse grabbing a fist full and just chucking them at Peter’s feet a small chuckle escaping her lips “Awh, My coins…” She spoke her voice catching (M/N)’s attention. Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he set his foot down “Alright listen, you two. I do not want any trouble! I expect you two to be decent.” Pointing his finger as he glared at the two, Richard raising his voice as he had a smile on his face ���I don’t know what you’re referring to, son.” before walking towards the seats of the bus his eyes making contact with (M/N)’s as he sat next to him “Hope you don’t mind if i take a seat here do you, son?” – “All yours” (M/N) replied as he scooted over seeing as how Gladys took a seat in the row in front of them.

“Where are you headed to, Love?” Richard asked as he turned to face the younger man. “Oh to the Art Museum” (M/N) replied as he saw Richard shake his head “You should take the 6-17 bus, It’ll take you there faster.” the older man suggested as he pointed to a nearby bus stop where the 6-17 usually stopped at before Gladys commented “No, Love. You’re thinking about the 8-10 bus” – “Oh you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Richard replied as he shook his head before his attention being retracted back to (M/N)’s. “Well actually I take this bus because…I’m secretly in love with the bus driver” (M/N) confessed as he whispered the last bit to Richard seeing the old mans eyes widen in surprise and interest as he ‘ooh’ed at (M/N)’s confession, “Really? He seems a bit dorky to me” Richard spoke as he adjusted his glasses catching a glimpse of Peter “Oh no, not for me.” (M/N) spoke, his voice only proving just how smitten he was over the other. “Isn’t that just wonderful, young love I say. You two could get married and have bus babies. I’ll let him know” Richard spoke as he stood up clearing wanting to make his way towards Peter only to be pulled back in by (M/N).

“No! I’m not ready to tell him! I’m not even sure if he knows me well or if he likes me back” (M/N) spoke clearly worried and slightly embarrassed. “This generation…you have to tell him you love him! We’re almost at your destination” Richard spoke as he adjusted himself back into the seat. “I know…I just- I need more time” (M/N) replied shyly as he rubbed his arm, Richard on the other hand had a look that he had a plan as he quickly nodded, “well if it’s time you need. We got you covered. Oh bus driver next stop, please!”

Peter glanced through the mirror as he heard the familiar stop bell ring as he raised a brow “The next stops a pasta shop, what happened to bingo?” Peter asked as he began to slow the bus down so they could reach the right stop. “Well what do you expect me’ missus to cook when I get home after bingo?” As Peter nodded taking that into consideration as he stopped the bus, opening the doors up for the older man. As he saw Richard go up to the sliding doors and staring at the shop before turning back around and into the bus “I forgot, I don’t have a missus” The man spoke as he went back to his spot next to (M/N). Peter rolling his eyes as he shut the doors shut once again and went back to driving towards the museum.

Only for a few minute second for the stop bell to ring again as Peter raised a brow yet again looking at the next stop. “The next stop is a dealership!” Peter spoke as he slowed the bus down again and as before Richard was to speak again “Well you expect me to show up to Bingo empty handed in a crummy bus?” Peter only shaking his head at the reply as he stopped the bus again, opening the doors once again as Richard made hos way towards them again…and once more not getting off and going back to his seat “I forgot I don’t know how to drive!” Peter just about had enough as he muttered out a soft curse from under his breath shutting the doors back up as he drove once again but not before scolding the passengers, “Passangers should only ding the bell if they intend to get off! Is that clear?”

“Tell him you love him!” Richard murmured to (M/N) as (M/N)’s eyes widned a sense of warmness coating his cheeks as he shook his head “No!” (M/N) practically yelled as Peter furrowed his brows “What do you mean no?” – “I mean yes! We understand!” 

The ride went by smoothly only for 3 seconds later for the same bell ringing again as he let out a frustrated groan “The next stop is a junkyard!” Peter expressed his patience slipping everytime he spoke. “I need to throw some things away!” Richard’s voice boomed as the bus instead of slowly stopping made a harsh stop as the doors opened “Theres the junkyard, get out and throw your junk away” Peter spoke as he stared at the older man and again Richard made his way to the doors only to turn back around “I didn’t bring any of it with me” 

“That is it! We are not making any more stops until the museum and than you could ALL get off!” Peter spoke frustrated as he shut the doors and started up the bus, speeding his way through the road. “You need to tell him now, honey. You’re almost out of time” Richard spoke to (M/N) as he saw the man hesitate shaking his head in confirmation he wasn’t going to. “Where’s Marmalade…” Gladys whispered in front of them which went unheard as (M/N) and Richard spoke. “I’ll just do it tomorrow” (M/N) spoke to Richard as he shook his head. “Oh no deary, Todays so much better than tomorrow.” – “Marmalade??” 

“Bus Stopping! There, Museum, now all of you out!” Peter spoke as the doors came open only for Gladys to speak up again “Where’s Marmalade?” (M/N) raising a brow as he looked at Richard “Who’s Marmalade?” – “Gladys pet tarantula” Richard replied as all 3 of the passengers looked at Peter who had a huge tarantula crawling in his shoulder as Peter screamed out trying to get it off, getting up and trying to shake it off him.

“There you are, Marmalade”

“Get it off!!” Peter screamed as he walked backwards only to fall off the bus and onto the pavement of the crosswalk. (M/N) watching the scene unfold as he stood up in concern as he shouted at Peter from the window “It’s right there!! Suck the poison out!!” As he was caught up on the scene from outside before his attention was drawn to the bus starting up as he turned to Richard who was looking at the scene from the window as well “Who’s driving?” 

“Gladys is driving”

“Oh okay…”

“GLADYS IS DRIVING?!” (M/N) shouted as his eyes widned turning to the front of the bus as he saw the shorter older women drive recklessly as he saw Peter follow right after shouting after the bus “Hey thats my bus!!” could be heard from outside as (M/N) turned to Richard. “DO SOMETHING!!” he spoke panicked as he saw the older man lie down “time for a grandad nap…” – “Richard!!”

(M/N) made his way towards the front of the bus as he slowly brought Glady away from the steering wheel, trying to lift her up “Cmon honey…give me the wheel” (M/N) spoke panicked and softly as he pried the women away only for the steering wheel to come off as he took it in his hands, Peter chasing them from behind yelling at (M/N) “Push the brakes!” as (M/N) scrambled with it trying to push the brakes only for them to not work “They don’t work!!” he screamed back “Pop the wheel back in place!!” Peter screamed as (M/N) quickly popped the steering wheel back into place as Peter threw himself at the open doors, stumbling into the floor of the bus as he groaned but quickly got up as he put a hand on the side of the drivers seat where (M/N) was sitting.

(M/N) took note of just how close Peter really was as he blushed softly, what a great time to be so close to your crush as (M/N) occasionally glanced at him “Hi…” he finally spoke as his voice “Hey” Peter replied back as he looked at (M/N) “How’s your day going?” The two exchanged a look as Peter finally spoke up “Pretty slow day.”

“Tell him!”

“Richard!”

“Tell me what?” Peter smirked as he looked at the slight redness in (M/N)’s face as he leaned in only slightly. “Nothing! I’ll uhm…tell you tomorrow.” (M/N) replied as he tried to take control over the steering wheel “Well there isn’t going to be a tomorrow! We’re going to hit that custard factory!!” Peter shouted as pointed straight ahead. The two exhanging a look as Peter grabbed the two older people in the back as they shouted in surprise before he leaped out the bus (M/N) following from behind. All 4 of them hitting the pavement below as Richard and Gladys laid on the ground groaning in the background a large crash sound most likely the bus hitting the factory as Peter and (M/N) landed besides each other the two relived that they didn’t die their hearts racing.

“We’re alive…” (M/N) spoke in disbelief as he panted. “I can’t believe it…” Peter murmured as he tried to breath. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you! I keep putting it off for tomorrow but now…i think i’m going to tell you” (M/N) spoke out of breath as he smiled, the adrenaline rush clearly getting to him “I want to get married and have your bus babies!” Peter looked up at the sky as he tried to process what he had just been told. “Oh.

“Richard, i did it! I told him!” (M/N) spoke as he walked up to the older man who was helping Gladys up from the ground “Oh i told you, son. Now go on and have your bus babies.” Richard laughed softly as he shooed (M/N) away. “Oh no. He’s already married to a giraffe.” 

And just like that (M/N) stood in the middle of the living room of his and husband’s shared home. Two children standing in front of him pretending to be old people. Their older son, Jose and their youngest daughter, Amelia dressed up and hunched over as if wanting to give the illusion they were much older than what they really were as the two faced their dad. “What?” Jose spoke imitating an older mans voice “We’ll see about that! C’mon Gladys!” Jose’s voice echoed in the room as he grabbed his little sisters hand and ran up to tackle Peter, rough housing with the man. A wide smile on (M/N)’s face as he saw their kids mess around with his husband who was getting ‘kissing’ a huge plush giraffe before getting tackled down by their son, his playful scream echoing in the room as he looked at (M/N) for ‘help’. “Babe!!” – “Kids!” 

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[yumethefrostypanda]

Hi yume! I have three questions I would like to ask you...

What do you think about these two photos? do you think Simon is really like that under the mask? (in my opinion it might look more like the first photo, but I don't know. Many say it's the second because it looks more like Samuel, but honestly, the haircut of the first is very similar to the scene where he takes off the mask.)

In your opinion, how would Simon behave in a social context? (for example going out alone, taking a bus or any other public transport.) do you think he would still keep the mask on, or would he cover himself with something else?

How would Simon behave with children (you know, in the comic he had a nephew who was very important to him.) What do you think he would do if maybe a small child, in the park with his/her mother, approached him curiously and touched him? or are there kids throwing the ball in his direction by accident? would he kicks the ball back to them?

Thanks in advance, you are the best!🫶🏻❤️

I love your answers and everything you post! (I'll never stop saying this, sorry...🥲)

Hey Sofia :D Thank you for your ask and sweet words 🥺 It's truly nice to hear you like my answers :D Appreciate your support 🫶 First things first ;p the art on the right is from Wombywoo, if i'm not mistaken. Alright, let's do this *cracks knuckles and neck, cause i always spend wayy too much time on answering my asks >.<*

1. You know.. headcanon-ing Simon's face is kinda fun cause his face is hidden :D Everyone can put their own thoughts in the mix. I thiink when MWIII is out, imma do a part 2 on Simon's face. Anyway, I remember that first photo (left) was on reddit, extracted from MWII files somewhere last year. It was already said that the hair was from Graves(?) and put on his head. I also think it's either a placeholder or not finished since they've only used his 3D head for mask placement and the scene where he takes of the mask and we (only) see his fluffy short hair. It really wouldn't be a surprise if Simon's (face) features are alot of that from his VA, Samuel Roukin. I've seen every frame multiple times by now *edit life* and to me, it really looks like Simon has Roukin's eye shape and nose(for the most part). I loove the fact the devs stayed true to Simon's brown eyes *-* So what else did they stay true to? Or is it completely Roukin's face? We might never know :P But personally for me it's still 50/50. Half Roukin's face/ half comic Simon's face. Ok ok, maybe now more like 70/30. idc, just show me. No, don't! Yes!

2. Ooff, good question. I wonder if he uses public transport since he also can drive. (i'd rather take the car thn the bus ngl :P). At the end of the campaign with 141 and Laswell sitting in a bar, Simon still has his eye paint and mask on. Though be it another mask thn that he was wearing during the Chicago mission. So that makes me believe he conceals his face in his free time (outside), i'm not exactly sure how tho cause wearing a skull mask like that in public might alarm ppl? idk. I kinda lean more to the idea he isn't that among people much (being outside). If he already prefers to work alone than in a team (141 is a no brainer for him tho, imo) i don't really see him being out and about and social in his off time Q_Q And with all this online ordering, he gucci. But okok, i do see him do groceries and stuff. You know, basic stuff. He will have alot of hooded clothes, caps and what not. Corona must've been a 'delight' for him. (ok ill stop. sorry) I think he barely makes eyecontact, or just shortly cause he's friendly. He a good lad. Srsly don't waste your time on this next hc; You know.. what if he just lives in a very small village somewhere quiet in England where everyone knows eachother and he don't have to worry about all that outside shii cause everyone in that small village knows how he is. Easy peasy, live and let live. Often people in small villages are old cause many young move to the city. So them golden oldies in his town are just happy they have a soldier in their midst and respect his privacy. Buut.. thn again, the bigger the city.. the easier it is to blend. Oh well. Whatever XD 3. I THINK HE'S REALLY GOOD WITH KIDS! But doesn't show, is scared to show, etc etc all that. I even think if a kid is being bullied in his presence he would intervine. I'm sure of it. But i think he would avoid being around kids. If one's come up to him i think he will be friendly but not interested in a conversation or play ball. I'll let myself out

[thetomorrowshow]

survival

esh au hiiiii

Announcement: I'm going to be doing whumptober! A week from now is the 1st of October, so in addition to the next oleander update, i'll also start posting my whumptober fics :)

~

He doesn’t stay in the city because of course he doesn’t stay in the city. He’s the prime suspect in a double homicide, after all.

Still, Jimmy sticks around the streets for a while, ducking into the shadows whenever he hears a siren. After all, it’s a bit suspicious to see a dirty teenager out on his own, nothing on him but his clothes and his backpack (still with his cheap geometry textbook and his assigned English reading stuffed into it, because they make for somewhere to lay his head that isn’t hard ground).

(He’d thought about going back to school, at first. How ridiculous is that?)

He sticks around for about a month—far longer than he wants to live on the streets, but his parents are cremated and so the funeral service isn’t urgent, and is held three weeks after their death.

Nobody notices the sallow sixteen-year-old boy loitering in the church front entrance, listening to the echoes of the eulogy. They don’t notice that he spent the last bit of his money on a white button-up from a thrift store, that he’d braved a homeless shelter to be able to shower. They don’t notice the tears that streak down his face, that he desperately tries to wipe away.

Then the loudspeaker in the entrance sparks and smokes and stops working, so Jimmy leaves.

He knows he has to get away. He’s barely been surviving nicking food from convenience stores and restock trucks. He doesn’t dare show his face at any of the homeless camps around the city, nor any of the charity food organizations. He’s certain that they’ll just turn him in.

But he doesn’t have the money to go anywhere, nor the survival skills to set up in the woods somewhere, so he does what must be the inevitable. He breaks into someone’s house and steals every valuable he can find.

The house he chooses has a lot—expensive electronics and sparkling jewelry, and he feels utterly awful about it but he decides against leaving an apology note and just runs, ignoring the way the door falls off its hinges behind him.

There’s an unforeseen issue, though: for a street rat, he doesn’t really have any connections—and he’s too much of a good kid to even know how to go about making connections. The one time he tries, he somehow ends up with three necklaces gone and a small packet of white powder in exchange. That he manages to pass off for some decent money, but he gets out of that area quickly before he ends up getting into the wrong sort of business.

From then on, he robs the nice-looking houses (he doesn’t really care about security and wears a mask and hoodie to do it, and when alarms are inevitably tripped he somehow evades capture) and only goes for cash. Eventually, he’s got enough of the stuff in his backpack to rent a place far away, a shady place he’d checked out online that’s a good thirty minute drive away from any sort of civilization (and quite far away from here) and the landlord doesn’t care that he’s paying in cash.

How to get there is the next question.

The cross-country bus doesn’t run in that direction, and even if it did the price would be over $300, so Jimmy nixes that idea pretty quickly. He can’t hitchhike, that would go poorly. He can’t steal a car—he’d never finished learning how to drive, and it would be a matter of time before a crash.

He ends up doing what he’s only seen in movies—he hitches a ride on a cargo train headed in the right direction. The trainyard at the edge of the city has very few cameras; it had been a piece of cake to sneak into one of the middle cars of what seemed to be a train full of grain and hide out between the stacks of it.

In that train, Jimmy sees the countryside for the first time in his life.

He’s never lived outside Empires City, and while he’d learned about rolling fields and corn for miles on end, he hadn’t actually believed it.

He believes it now.

It goes on for absolutely ages, field after field after field, occasionally broken up by barns or houses, but not nearly frequently enough. It’s insane. Some of the fields are for livestock—there are whole herds of cows, just roaming around out there.

It’s beautiful, but soon enough, the monotony gets to him. It’s nothing like the city, with its bright lights and forever bustle, and eye spy isn’t fun by himself. Jimmy ends up rolling up his hoodie and shoving it under his head, then lying back and falling asleep.

Somehow, the trip passes mostly uneventfully. He’d done a decent bit of research at a library computer (which had flashed error screens halfway through his scouring of train depot maps) and knows that this train will take him almost all the way to his destination, leaving him with a two day walk into town and then a day of walking to reach his rental. The walking part he’s fairly confident about, and there’s a couple of printed-off maps stuffed into his hoodie pocket to guide him. What he’d been worried about was the train.

The train doesn’t break down, though. The most that happens is a couple of bags split open, grain spilling everywhere. Jimmy doesn’t think too hard about it, just hugs his backpack a little closer to himself. He always gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when his power manifests these days.

He hopes, if Lizzie’s alive, that she’s all right.

She hadn’t been found, either. The last time she’d been seen was by some friends at band after school on that fateful day. She’d vanished off the face of the earth, much like he had.

Jimmy swallows back the tears that burn at the corners of his vision. He can’t. He can’t think about her. He can’t think about his past at all. He just has to—he has to get away from everyone so that he never hurts anyone ever again, and then everything will become okay.

He sneaks off the train at his stop (a small depot, a couple of houses spread about and a place for the train to stop), slipping and faceplanting in the dust. He stumbles back up, hikes his backpack further up on his shoulders, and starts walking, through the tiny settlement and then along the side of the freeway that cuts through it.

There’s a gas station about three hours into his walk, thank goodness. He’s been out of water for far longer than he predicted, ever since his water bottle cracked down the side five hours ago, forcing him to drink all he could until the bottle was empty. At the gas station, he purchases a six-pack of cheap water and a pre-packaged pastry.

The pastry is moldy, of course. He eats around the black spots.

A two day walk. Into town, at least. Then another day to get to his rental. And after that. . . .

Jimmy’s not really sure what’s left of his life after that. Unless he can figure out how to control his powers, he’s stuck out in the middle of nowhere forever. He’ll have to become a farmer or something, raise chickens and grow food for himself so that he never has to subject the town to his misfortune.

For the first time, Jimmy stops to think about his long-term plans.

For the first time, Jimmy wonders if he should be alive.

-

The house sucks.

The fridge doesn’t work. There’s missing shingles on the roof, and the first time it rains the ceiling leaks all over the threadbare carpet in the living room. The air conditioning won’t turn on, and two weeks into living there the ceiling fan just falls out of the ceiling, narrowly avoiding crushing him (he walks away with some smarting scratches on his legs).

There’s some technically good things, he supposes. For instance, he gets pretty good at using a screwdriver after the cabinet doors and the doorknobs repeatedly fall off. Having a bed is nicer than sleeping on the ground, as he’s been doing for quite some time now. Even if the bedframe collapses on him during his second week. And rent is cheap!

Once a week, the city bus comes by to the bus stop a couple minutes out from the house, near the water tower (most workers at the water plant ride the bus to work), and when Jimmy eventually works up the courage (and entirely runs out of food), he rides it into town.

He doesn’t have enough money to last him forever. He can maybe survive for a year out here on what he has. If he starts a garden, though, gets some chickens like he planned. . . .

Jimmy goes back to the house with an armful of groceries, ten packets of seeds, and three chickens following him. It’s just getting to gardening season, so it’s the ideal time to set something up.

The work of turning the dirt with the rusted rake he finds in the garage is hard, but feels so unbelievably good. It’s awfully nice to have something to do, something that isn’t moping around the house, trying not to destroy everything he touches. He feels like he has something of a purpose, a purpose to plant a sustaining garden and raise three chickens and make something out of the profits.

If things go well, and he becomes less dangerous, maybe he can set up at a farmer’s market. Less exposure to the outside world than an actual job, so less chance of hurting anyone. Still bringing in a bit of money, enough to hopefully keep up with his rent.

His rake strikes a rock, which flies up and hits him square between the eyes. Right. Less planning for the impossible, more cultivating a garden.

For the second time, leaning on the handle of the rake as he rubs his forehead, Jimmy wonders if he’s meant to be alive.

-

By some stroke of luck, all goes . . . well.

The garden isn’t the best garden ever. The chickens are, perhaps, a bit more scraggly than the average chicken, their eggs more often rotten than not by the time Jimmy gets to them. But he can survive off of it, and for a teenage boy, he feels pretty proud of himself.

And he starts to settle in.

Maybe he can make this work. He can . . . he can just be a recluse, maybe work some sort of online job to pay the bills, survive off of his own garden and animals. If he saves up, he could maybe get a goat or two. Goats give milk, right? Edible milk? Having some milk would be nice.

It’s that autumn, of course, when things start to go wrong.

He’s heading into town for the first time in over a month, hungering for something other than bitter lettuce and tomatoes and eggs and Malt O’ Meal (his last box had run out that morning). Maybe he can spare some money on a frozen pizza (he knows he won’t—he’d already made a list for bread ingredients, a cookbook, and plenty of peanut butter and jelly).

The town feels . . . empty. He doesn’t pass anyone out walking or kids playing in yards, houses shuttered and doors closed. There are only three cars in the grocery store’s parking lot, and one of them is an employee.

The groceries are overpriced, but Jimmy doesn’t have any other choices. He’s thirsty, too, and stops for a bottle of water before heading to the single employee for checking out, but the shelves for bottled drinks are bare.

The cashier checks him out with an apology—

“Sorry, we’ll be getting more water on Tuesday, when the shipment comes in. If you can’t hold out until then, I’ve heard that our Belton location has some. Stay safe.”

And that, more than anything else, really worries Jimmy.

The library’s closed (it must be a holiday, or a weekend, or something), but there’s a newspaper box at the bus stop. It cracks open at his touch, so he takes a paper without paying and reads while he waits for the bus, hoping that it’s recent enough to have some news about what’s with the water.

As it turns out, it’s on the first page.

Hundreds ill. Contaminated water. Reports from analyzing labs that indicate that any water from the tap is deadly—as soon as it enters the water tower it becomes contaminated, but they’ve tried disinfecting the tower or gathering rainwater or taking it straight from the treatment plant, but nothing works. Anyone who drinks any water gets sick.

And Jimmy knows, instinctively, that it’s because of him.

After all, he lives within walking distance of the treatment plant.

It’s there, waiting for the bus, that Jimmy decides that he can’t stay here. He’d always known, deep down, that it wouldn’t work out. He’d hoped, of course. He’d hoped that the creaky old house could have contained him, held him there. That maybe he wouldn’t be dangerous if all he could hurt was himself.

Clearly, nowhere is far enough away. Even when he separates himself from civilization as much as possible, he can’t escape hurting people. He can’t escape himself.

He doesn’t move away immediately, though he’s so disgusted with himself (he can see the water tower through his window, and the now-frequent workers trying to fix it) that he wishes he could. Instead, he spends a week harvesting what he can—a few limp handfuls of lettuce and about a dozen tomatoes—and fixes what he can on the house.

When the time comes to leave, he doesn’t take the bus. He walks, his chickens following along behind, until he reaches the town.

Jimmy lifts the chickens one by one into someone’s backyard, leaving them a couple of tomatoes to eat until their new owner finds them.

He feels lucky that he hadn’t managed to kill his chickens. He really did come to love them—he had built the shoddiest of coops out of spare wood from his shed, and he’d petted each of them on the head every day, and frequently carried one around when he was too lonely to do anything. They can’t come back to the city with him, though—he’s sure that they wouldn’t survive the trip.

For back to the city is where Jimmy is headed. He’d considered just wandering, a vagrant, but he doesn’t exactly have the skills for that. He doesn’t know anything about scavenging or hunting, he hates stealing from people who aren’t already well-off, and he’s been feeling unwell for the past couple of days. He can’t survive wandering the country.

And in the city, there’s . . . well, there are more people to hurt, but there are more people to fix his problems. More places for people to go for help.

And maybe he can do some good instead of just isolating himself, get a job where he can be helpful. Balance out some of his karma.

Or maybe the train he hitchhikes on will crash and burn and he’ll die.

Jimmy’s not sure which would be preferable.

[abigail]

nooooo I’m so scared of my postman actually. like.. ok someone tell me if I’m being insane or if you’d be a bit freaked out too

ok so.. I moved into my new place in late spring time and since living there I’ve had a few different posties but recently this past like.. idk month or two I’ve mainly just had this one guy, I’d say he’s around 40-50 y/o.. at first he was just idk. normal lol ?? like didn’t say much just got on with his job etc. after a few times he’d start just.. commenting on stuff I guess ? like I’d answer the door in my pyjamas and he’d be like ‘oh hehe sorry for waking you up’ and idk.. ur a post man surely you’re greeted at the door of lots of people in pyjamas ??? (especially because it was like 8am on a saturday idk anyway). he then started saying my name a lot which.. he obviously knows from my mail, but he’d say ‘abi’ and I never get post with my nickname delivered so he just decided himself to use my nickname (which I find odd because.. personally I don’t really use a nickname for someone unless they tell me it’s their name or I hear other people using it or obvs if we’re close etc but maybe that’s just me !!)

then the other week I answered the door and he.. paused to hand over my mail.. to tell me he saw me by the charity shop in the main area of the town I live, I just said oh yeah they have good stuff sometimes and he just then asked if I work there ??? I said no … so he asked if I work around there.. I said no I work ‘in the city’ (the town I live in is like wedged in between two cities and I didn’t specify which one) and he just quietly repeated ‘in the city’ back to himself while handing me my mail ???? I told this to my friends and they agreed it was weird behaviour btw

so anyway.. with it being this time of year I’ve ordered more stuff online than usual because I’ve been buying christmas gifts and I’ve had a few friends mail me gifts for me so I’ve had to answer the door to him more frequently and idk each time he has something to say … like recently he said “oh that one looks interesting what’s in that” with a little smirky face and I’m like oh .. uh.. it’s a gift ????? like.. idk it’s just a bit weird considering the previous stuff ??? or is it just me ???

but yeah what caused me to write this is what just happened.. I’m waiting at the bus stop into the city and I see the post van drive past but then slow down.. it takes me a second to think oh shit is it him so I awkwardly turn to look away and then the van reverses back to the stop even slower until the window is in line with where I’m stood so I have no choice but to notice.. he shouts ‘abi’ and then asks what I want to do with this parcel he’s got in the back.. I’m like ??? uh.. my partner is home rn until midday or something ????? because well.. they are. and like he must know I have a partner because he would’ve seen their name on the mail he delivers and he probably has had my partner answer the door to him a few times too so idk why wouldn’t he think that like ???? and for him to recognise me while I’m at the bus stop and stuff ????? idk man it made me feel so yucky !!! anyway he asks then if I’m heading to work … I say yeah (so now he knows which city I work in ough) and he’s like hmm. ok see you soon and then does a full u turn to where I live .. I assume to deliver my mail but like.. surely he’s got a route he’s meant to follow like he was originally going in the opposite direction ???

yeah idk.. I might just be overthinking it like he’s probably harmless he just seems like some guy but considering it all and it’s the fact he obviously knows where I live because he’s my postie just makes me feel so…. idk. it creeps me out tbh like the vibes are off lmao

edit to add - also consider the fact the area I live in isn’t tiny like.. it’s not a city or whatever but there’s lots of houses and sure he’ll only be doing mail for one section of the town (I assume) but stillll he’ll be seeing so many people daily why is he always recognising me like. I’m not even wearing an outfit that makes me stand out today how did he instantly spot me.. ALSO the second I posted this I got an email saying my parcel was delivered so yeah he literally did do a u turn to my house to deliver my mail rather than do his normal route uhuhhhhhhhh…….. like thanks but ??? why am I getting special treatment lol

[daebakinc]

Pretty Woman Finale

Pretty Woman AU

Pairing: Kihyun x Reader

Word Count: 2.6 K

Synopsis: Rich business man, Kihyun Yoo finds himself lost driving in Los Angeles. Stopping for directions he meets you, a prostitute on Hollywood Boulevard. What starts as a one night stand soon becomes a weeklong proposition, as Kihyun needs arm candy for his visit in the city of angels.

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7

~Admin V

             You had trouble sleeping in your own bed. Partly because there were so many possibilities for you now and your mind was playing any and all ideas, and partly because you were spoiled by the Baverse mattress and couldn’t get comfortable.

As you lay awake, you worked out your plans for the next day. First, you’d have to stop by the library and use the computer to look up housing in San Fran. The idea of renting a car to get there seemed more comfortable with all your newly acquired belongings than toting everything on a bus.

Checking out schools for completing your G.E.D. was also on your list. You’d work on the job situation once you got there. The school could have programs to help you with that.

And Kihyun. You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about him. His heartbroken face when you told him you weren’t going to spend the night with him. The way he nodded at the door when he screamed for K.Will to get the hell out. How his lips felt against yours the night before when you kissed him again and again.

At some point you’d finally dozed off. Frantic knocking on your door woke you. Looking at the clock it was a bit after 10a.m. The landlord must’ve been antsy for the rent. Sifting through the envelop from Kihyun, you grabbed what was due, but when you opened the door, it wasn’t the landlord standing before you.

His shoulders relaxed when he sighed with relief. “You’re here.”

Your jaw fell slack. “Kihyun? Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane to Korea?” You glanced around in the hall. “How do you know where I live?”

“Changkyun. When I was checking out, he casually mentioned that the limo driver took you home yesterday.” He took a deep breath. He must’ve run up all the flights of stairs to your floor.

Gesturing for him to enter your apartment, he took another breath of relief.

Facing you, he continued. “I’m an idiot.”

You smiled to that. “Yeah?”

He was flustered. It was clear there was so much he wanted, needed to express but didn’t know where to start. “You said this week changed everything for you. It changed everything for me as well. It just took me longer to realize it.” He began pacing in front of you, his words spewing out quickly. “Never, not in a million years would I have bought Honey Bear Records to save it. I was on the path of destruction and had absolutely no intention of ever getting off of it. But you,” he ran his fingers through his hair and looked you in the eyes. “You showed me I still have a heart. I don’t have to be the villain I’d turned myself into.

“When I told you I wanted to put you up in a condo and see you, that wasn’t my intention to have you waiting for me; waiting for money, waiting for me to use you. That was old me. How I dealt with past relationships. They’ve always been about me using them when I needed them.” He cringed at himself when he heard what he’d just said.

Stroking his arm to let him know it was okay and you weren’t running from him, you encouraged him to continue.

“I like who I am with you. And, it will be a learning process. I’m sure that I will still do and say things to fuck it all up, but I can’t let you go.”

Mouth agape again, you could only stare at him.

His confidence was back as he squared his shoulders and took your hands in his. “I can’t go back to South Korea, not without you. I don’t care if we stay here in Los Angeles, or even here in this apartment.” You noticed his grimace as he looked around but he quickly recovered to a face of sincerity. “I don’t care where I am, as long as I’m with you.

“I can understand if you don’t want me buying everything and doing everything for you. You’re a self-made woman and I respect that about you. But I do have money, and I don’t see why it can’t be used if it will help you.” He went back to pacing, seeming to have said something he hadn’t meant to.

“What’s wrong, Kihyun?”

He stopped and focused on you. “You’re not my personal prostitute or beck-and-call girl. I know you’re not.” Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer and looked into your eyes. “But I want you to be mine.”

Your heart beat sped and you felt a blush in your cheeks.

He lifted your chin with his fingers so you were looking him in the eye. “You said yesterday you wanted me to love you. Love you for you. I . . .” He took a sharp inhale, but it didn’t stop his lip from quivering. “I . . .” he tried again.

You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face. “I love you, too.”

Though he looked comforted, it didn’t stop another tremble of his lips and you saw tears sitting in his eyes. They closed when you leaned up and pressed your forehead against his.

“You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready. We’ve only known each other a week after all.” You kissed the tip of his nose.

Sighing, he pressed away from you to look at you. “It’s not that.” His voice was squeaky and it pulled at your heartstrings. He’d finally slowed down his words. “When I’ve said it before in past relationships, I never meant it. Not like I mean it now.” The tears overwhelmed him as they now trickled down his cheeks. “I’m scared,” he breathed.

Carefully, you held his face in your hands. “You don’t need to be. I am yours.”

When he smiled, you couldn’t help yourself from giving him a soft, chaste kiss. He pressed back, and the two of you took the moment to just savor the feeling, the closeness. Pecking his lips a few times, you pressed one more smooch before leaning your forehead against his again.

Kihyun caressed your cheek. “I don’t deserve such a pretty woman.”

“Then you’re quite a lucky man.”

 Six Months Later

You pulled your brand-new, sleek, cyan blue Dodge Viper in front of Honey Bear Records. Yes, you were a self-made woman, but you also needed a car. And with Kihyun offering to get you such a lovely one for passing your G.E.D., who were you to refuse?

Walking into a studio, Hyunwoo was sitting in the back of the room on a couch. He looked up when he heard your footsteps. “Hey, how’d the test in music production go?”

After retrieving the test in question from your bag, you handed it to him. His face instantly lifted. “Yeah! Look at you, big time college girl!” He gave you a high five then you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“How’s our boy doing?”

Both of you turned your attention to the front of the room. Jooheon was sitting in front of the sound board and recording equipment. Behind the laminated glass, Kihyun was in the zone, warming up his voice before the music started.

You couldn’t hide your smile as you watched him. He was so passionate as he got into the music. Then his lyrics started.

I can suddenly feel something has changed I am becoming an adult I don't hate myself Even when I see my weakness I tended to get anxious Thinking about me after a few years Rather than how I feel today I was like that at that time

I feel like I will miss those foolish Days, which made me work harder The days when I was young and cheerful And the heart that was pumping so fast after dancing hard I feel like the sky is beautiful nowadays

His voice cracked and he indicated for Jooheon to stop the music. Once he had a few swigs of water he kept repeating the note he couldn’t seem to get right.

Jooheon spun around in his chair toward you. “Queen! Tell me you aced the test!”

Getting up you handed it to him.

His face beamed when he looked at you. “That’s my girl.”

You nodded your head in the direction of Kihyun. “How many takes has he been doing for this one?”

“Just a few. You know he’s a perfectionist, so if it doesn’t sound the way he wants it, we start over.”

It was part of his passion for the music.

A mischievous smile appeared on Jooheon’s face. “You know, now that you’re here, I’m sure if he were to relieve some of that frustration, he’d be able to get his notes right.”

“Jooheon,” Hyunwoo warned, embarrassment causing him to blush.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that so?”

Hyunwoo got up and slapped the younger man in the shoulder. “Please excuse him. All this time in the studio has clearly deprived him of oxygen to the brain.” He pulled Jooheon from the chair and pushed him towards the door. “Go get some fresh air.”

Jooheon laughed and faced you. “I’m gonna get some coffee, you want your usual?”

“Yes please,” you couldn’t help but laugh with him. Once he was out of the room, Hyunwoo looked apologetic.

“Though I don’t agree with my partner’s exact suggestion,” he then motioned toward Kihyun, “I do think he could use a bit of a break and some words of reassurance.” The blush was still present as he bowed. “I’ll give you two some time.” He too left the room, leaving it to just you and Kihyun.

Knocking on the studio door, Kihyun looked a little surprised to see you.

“Hey,” he smiled. He looked through the glass and noticed the others were gone. “Where’d they go?”

“Coffee break. Jooheon heavily hinted you could use a release.”

His face turned red. “What did he say?”

You closed the distance between the two of you. “Oh, just that you might sound better if you let some of that tension go.”

The blush was gone and his confident power took its place. “What did you have in mind?”

Smiling, your hand reached down to touch him through his pants. “I was thinking blow job.”

A smirk formed on his face. “And what if you screaming my name will relieve the tension?”

Before you could answer, the studio door flung open. Both you and Kihyun watched as Jooheon walked in, hand over his eyes. “I forgot I had the headphones and the sound still on. Don’t mind me.” It was very clear he wasn’t at all ashamed of interrupting and he even peaked through his fingers at one point, trying to catch any action. When he dropped the wireless headphones in the chair, and made sure all the sound equipment was off, he left. Kihyun and you burst out into laugher. You each laughed so hard you had to sit on the ground until you calmed down.

When you were both back to normal breathing patterns, Kihyun moved so his back was against the wall and pulled you into his arms. He played with your hair as you played with his fingers. The laughing worked to get rid of his stress.

Looking up, you smiled at him. “The song is very pretty from what I heard.”

He smiled back at you. “You think so?”

“I’m very biased, of course, but yes.”

His grin widened. He looked from your eyes to you lips then bent down to kiss you. The musk of his cologne mixed with his sweet tastes made your head spin. You kissed him back until you felt breathless. If it were up to you, you’d never stop kissing him. When he bit against your lip, you couldn’t help the low groan it caused.

Shifting your position, you turned to better face him, crawling in his lap. You deepened the kiss as you breathed him in and he slid his tongue into your mouth. Your new spot in his lap allowed you to grind against him, feeling his growing hardon against your growing wetness.

Kihyun’s hands snaked up your back, under your shirt to unhook your bra.

You jumped when your phone vibrated in your back pocket. He grabbed it for you and you both looked at the screen. It was Jooheon.

He put it on speaker. “Wasn’t it your idea for her to help me blow off some steam?”

Jooheon laughed. “She ordered a coffee. I just wanted to know if it was safe to bring it in to her.”

“Unless you want to clean up the love stain we’re about to make, I suggest you and Hyunwoo leave the building. Now.”

There was stunned silence on the other line, and before Jooheon answered, Kihyun hung up.

He then held you as he again shifted your positions so that you were on your back and he hovering over you.

“A love stain, huh?” you chuckled.

“A big one.” He brushed hair from your forehead.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t have a condom.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Well, I’ve changed my profession. I no longer have need to carry around a buffet of safety.”

The sad, puppy pout he gave made you crack up with laughter. You reached into your bra and retrieved a condom. Old habits die hard.

His pout was replaced with a smirk. “You’re going to be punished for that.”

Matching his smirk, you replied. “I better be.”

Kihyun nipped at your nose. His face switched from playful to serious. “I love you.”

Your hand reached to caress his cheek. “I love you, too.”

He leaned down to kiss you again. It was short lived as you pushed him away. “If Jooheon and Hyunwoo are going home, how are you gonna finish recording when we’re finished?”

“Didn’t you have a production test today?”

“ . . . Yeah?”

“Then maybe you can give it a shot.”

You pushed him off so you could sit up. “Are you sure? I’m still unsure about some of the equipment. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Brushing a stray hair behind your ear, he gave an earnest smile. “The best way to learn is trying. I can help, too.”

He sounded certain, but you weren’t as confident as he was. “I just don’t want to mess it up. I know how you like everything. I don’t want to get lost in the equipment.”

He grinned wider and shook his head. “We’ll figure it out together. I promise to be on my best behavior and not snippy like I am with Jooheon. And if we get lost in the equipment, I do recall getting lost in Hollywood is how we both ended up here.”

Finally convinced, you smiled back at him. “Okay. But now I’m not in the mood to create a love stain with you.”

He jokingly groaned, but you could tell he was also more interested in getting back to the music. Helping you up, you both left the sound booth and sat in front of the recording equipment. Luckily, you did know a good portion of what to do, and what you didn’t Kihyun handled.

With everything ready, he went back into the other room. You spoke into the intercom. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

Shaking his head while chuckling, he gave you a wink. “Let’s do it.”

The End

[sethadams-cursed]

Who: Seth Adams & Magdalena Sparrow When: 27 May 1989 (Saturday) Where: Salem General County Hospital Type: Closed

"IT'S MY TURN NOW!"

The best thing about having siblings considerably younger than you was that it was much more easier to get your way, as Seth elbowed Jacob in the gut, and avoided his brother's sticky Rugelach covered fingers. "Nope." There was some emphasis as he popped his 'P' and continued the game. Roger Wilco… space janitor.. who was just about to infiltrate a space base using an invisible utility belt. SO DAMN COOL. Yeah no way was Jacob playing this one anytime soon. "MOMMMMMMM!"

Resigning before the inevitable came in the shape of his mother—her chastising and the reminder that he was a grown man and video games were for kids—Seth wasn't in the mood to argue. With a sigh he rolled his brother's computer chair back and climbed out of it. "Touché."

"SETH!!" What? He’d given it up! "Phone!" Oh, that. Putting his finger into his mouth and then inserting it into Jacob's ear, Seth let out a laugh as his brother screamed and ran down the stairs just in time to grab the phone off their annoyed father. Holding his angry brother back with his free hand, he answered, "Ellooooo..."

He listened, nodding, and agreed to Zo's (Lorenzo, but Seth called him Zo) pleas to pick his sister Maggie up from the hospital because he was stuck at the office still. The truth was, he felt kind of sick about the whole thing...

Maggie hadn’t gone to his school, but they’d met one year when, after begging his father for weeks to let him go to a normal (not Hebrew) summer camp, his father had finally agreed. The two had met when they were both been put on canteen duty, some sort of punishment for having a sense of humor. At least, that's how Seth saw it. After that, they’d spent most of the rest of the summer together, which concluded with a game of spin the bottle, where Seth was forced to pop his mouth cherry and kiss her. It hadn’t been a bad kiss, but he’d definitely used more tongue than was appropriate, and in the end, the two hadn’t spoken for the rest of the night or the bus ride back to Salem.

Of course, that was all in the past and when she came looking for a job a few years ago, he was more than happy to let bygones be bygones and hire her up as his new receptionist. The arthritic hands of old Madge had never adapted well to the computer age. So, anyway, the point was, when Seth heard about Maggie being injured—hospitalized—he felt just a little torn up over the whole ordeal. "County, right? Four? You got it, Zo."

Parked right on the curb beside the hospital bay, Seth picked up his drug store balloon and headed in the direction of the receptionist desk. "I'm here to pick up—" He turned, cut off by a familiar voice, as he eyed her cast and took in just how damaged she was: it looked bad, but definitely not bad enough to avoid any kind of jokes. "Looks like you’re one step ahead of everyone… or maybe one step behind?" He walked up, taking the wheelchair from the orderly with a thank you and a smile. Then, he leaned down and handed Maggie her balloon. "Can you limp or am I driving?"

[summerbirdie]

Jeremiah Fanfic:

Summary: Part 1(maybe, if this gets attention)

Jeremiah picks up Addie(oc) from the Cousins bus stop.

Notes: this is my first ever fanfic so pls be nice. Imagine its Jeremiah but season 2 Jeremiah and not season 1 Jeremiah

Warnings: none. unedited. just cute stuff

My name is Addie and me and my mom have been going to Savannah’s beach house ever since I was a baby. Beck, my mom and Laurel had been best friends ever since high school. I had been spending every summer there with the Conklins and the Fishers until 3 years ago when my mom passed away in a car accident. After that I started living with my dad. Before him and my mom had never been close and I only saw him on holidays. Dad let me continue to go to Cousins but it wasn’t the same. Everyone was to sad to do anything. Last summer was when everything changed. It was like the good old days again.

I wanted this summer to be the same. Like nothing had ever changed. I told myself i wouldn’t be sad AT ALL anymore because i had lost enough time being depressed and i knew my mom would want me to be happy. I hoped that everything would stay the same. Belly would still be the same supportive person she had always been, Steven would still be the same old guy that could always make your day, Conrad would still be the same easy-going person (and hey he might actually let me smoke some of his weed this time) and Jeremiah would be the same funny, flirty golden retriever he had always been. This summer would be the same as it’s always been.

Key word: SAME.

It was the day before the Conklins had to arrive because I could only get a ticket for this day but hey, who complains about an extra day at the beach. I pulled up to the bus station at 2 in the afternoon after my 5 hour bus drive (my dad never came to the summer house and it didn’t make sense that he drive me 5 hours in one direction and another 5 hours the other so now I took the bus). I had called Jeremiah 30 minutes ago and asked him to pick me up and just as I was expecting he was right there when I walked off the bus. “Hey Addie, whats up?” he said looking at me with his blue eyes. “Oh hey, Jere nothing much just happen to be visiting my annoying best friend. I don’t really like him that much but hey I’m m not one to turn down a free vacay!” I responded looking at him cockly. “ Oh, really? We are gonna play it that way?” “ Hey, I guess we are.” I continued bluffing. “Yeah? Ok then.” Jere responded suspicious. Before I was able to blink I realized I was upside down and staring at Jeremiah Fishers surprisingly good-looking butt. “Noo, Jeremiah Fisher, PUT. ME. DOWN!” I said trying to hold my laugh in. By the time he put me down too much blood had gotten to my brain and I felt lightheaded. Jere noticed my red face so he immediately bent down to get my duffle-bag filled with practically every piece of clothing i owned because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t overpack.

As we got to Jere’s Jeep he opened the door for me, put my stuff in the back and got in. We were silent the first couple of minutes before he asked me “So… how are yo-“. “ Lets not do this.” I knew he was asking about my mom and though I was at ease now I hated when people tried to connect with me and try to convince me that they understand what I am going through. I realized I had been a bit harsh so I mumbled a quick “Sorry”. Jere was quick to change the subject which I was glad for. “So how are things with Tyler?” I kept my silence before he continued “Do I have to beat up anyone?” It was hard to keep the smile off my face and ignore him for much longer so i shamefully answered his questions. “Well if his constant annoying spamming continues into full on harassment you just might have to.” Jeremiah’s happy face suddenly became a concerned one. “Shit Dee Dee, what happened?” “WellI guess some guys can’t take a hint and by hint I mean straight up looking him in the face and telling him we’re over.” “ Please promise me you will tell me if anything happens!” He genuinely looked worried so I assured him. “Thank you, but I can defend myself well enough.” Now his eyes were on me and not the rode. “Promise me, Addie.” I didn’t want him to get upset. “ I promise, Jere.” That seemed to calm him down and I was satisfied. I suddenly wondered why we was suddenly so interested and worried. I didn’t have enough time to think it through because we had just pulled up the house.

[yvesdot]

HALLOWEEN DRABBLE 2022

Mel and Jenny go to the pumpkin patch. Jenny struggles with her words, while everyone else struggles with Mel.

Happy Halloween! The festive season brings with it our yearly Hallowdrabble featuring: everyone's favorite couple from Something's Not Right, father-daughter bonding with goth from KAY RAINIER, bisexual polyamorous love triangle with swords from Forest Castles, & saccharine thirty-year-old LeGButTs from Sometimes it Happens. Read below or at the Google Doc!

Mel carts his armful of totes out the door of the bus and steps down after Jenny, who looks decidedly nervous despite objectively having the upper hand. Mel still doesn’t really understand what a pumpkin patch is, and even if that weren’t the case, he figures being clairvoyant should lend some security.

But Jenny bites the edge of her nail as the bus drives off, looking anxiously in the direction of the tragic chain-link fence around the park. Mel squints and sees small children running about. He is disappointed to have apparently missed out on being the right height to put his face in all the silly ghost-themed cutouts.

“I haven’t been to one of these in ages,” Jenny says. “I’m not even sure, actually, that this one is for adults.” She turns abruptly, as if she’s considering walking off in the direction of the bus line, but fortunately just looks at Mel. “Is this really that important to you?”

“Spending quality time with my girlfriend is important to me,” Mel says. “Anyway, isn’t this themed?”

“Themed?” Jenny echoes, seeming not at all there.

“For us,” Mel explains. “You know, witch and vampire—we’re Halloween-themed! Like those couples who get engaged on Christmas. Except we are not in a Chris Fleming video, and, well, I guess Halloween is themed after us. But it makes sense,” he says, standing on his tiptoes a little so he can put an arm reassuringly around Jenny’s shoulder. Jenny seems borderline mollified by this—at least, enough to give him a kiss and lead him around to where the entry is. And also to wait for him to judge whether it counts as a door or not, because of his many problems with doors.

“We’re good,” he whispers, which always makes him feel like he’s involved in a secret operation. It’s nice to be involved in operations with someone else. Jenny ducks the both of them immediately into a corner, too, with a crinkled map she’s pinched out of a display. 

“We have to make a plan of attack,” she says, which feels even more like a secret operation, only Jenny does not look like she is enjoying hers. “I’ll look a little into the future before we go anywhere. That way, we can be sure everything is as it should be. Also, I can see if I’ve—or—well, anyway, look at these teenagers,” she says, waving her hand demonstratively at two or three bored-looking youths dotting the field. They do not appear to be paying attention to their surroundings. “I’m not taking you on a half-baked hay ride.”

“Well, I guess not, because I don’t think there is a hay ride anywhere on there,” Mel says, inspecting Jenny’s map with a crane of his neck. “But I don’t mind. A normal person would deal with some teenagers, right? I mean, what are they going to do, make fun of my goth outfit? Goth outfits are in really big with the teens, Jenny.”

“Yeah, look at that guy,” she mutters. Mel follows her line of sight.

“I don’t think that is a teen, Jenny,” he says, as the not-a-teen goes jogging around the corner of some kind of plant-based structure. “Oh. I think it’s Atlas, actually. From last Halloween, remember?”

“Well, he is awfully short,” Jenny says, “but—no, you’re right, just born under an absolutely terrible moon.”

“Don’t moons do more than determine your height?”

“They also do that.” Jenny unfolds the map. “Hold on while I plan our outing.”

“Now, don’t you start clairvoyancing,” Mel reminds her. “I can tell when you’re clairvoyancing—Jenny, you’re doing it right now.”

“I can’t help wanting to do a nice date,” Jenny says, but Mel has taken things into his own hands, which is to say, walked off at random. “I like to make sure these things go well. I plan because I care about you, because—Mel—Mel!”

“I’m going to pick apples!” he chirps, pointing at the relevant sign. “Look at all the apples, Jenny! All You Can Pick Apples! For $2!”

“They’re All You Can Pick because they’re All Gone,” Jenny moans, but she follows him over. There is a little box by the two bedraggled trees, which she drops a $2 bill into. Jenny always seems to have $2 bills, and quarters with bats on them. “Mel, do you—Mel?”

“I am stretching,” says Mel, quite occupied with reaching one of the remaining apples. Jenny waits for him to return to normal stance before continuing.

“Do you think we’re—I mean, what do you want to do with the apples?”

“Predict it,” says Mel, and Jenny goes quiet. He gathers another four apples without realizing the type of them might be important. He knows that there are many kinds of apples around, but not really what the point of the different ones is. He once accidentally said his favorite apple was Granny Smith at a party and got laughed out of the room.

“We’re going to use them in pies,” says Jenny. “Because we also get pumpkins, which we decide to make into pies, and we try these apples and they’re really sour—but they can’t be that bad,” she says, reaching for the one Mel is trying to drop into the basket. She takes an exploratory crunch off the top. “Oh. God. Yes, okay, we’re going to have to make them into pies. Stop picking them, Mel!”

“I’m a completionist!” Mel cries, just as a brunette with overgrown bangs stomps up to their tree. Eliza, probably, who still looks teenageish. Mel feels at home among the lack of aging.

“No eating the apples!” she snaps.

“Does it really matter?” Jenny asks. “I mean, for $2, does it make a difference if we eat one?”

“It’s policy,” Eliza says, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and she stalks off again. Mel watches her go, thinking that surely if he had such a nice orange vest for a uniform he wouldn’t be half as grumpy. Though maybe they won’t let her wear it if she doesn’t enforce her policy. The thought makes him a little more empathetic.

“These people are insane,” says Jenny. “Also, Mel, we really don’t need this many apples.”

“What about our many friends?!” Mel asks, but he quits his picking. He has to leave a tote free for the pumpkins.

“Let’s make them first,” says Jenny, which is not fair, because Mel has almost repaired the Granny Smith incident. But he hauls his tote-and-a-half of apples onto his shoulders, which is not too bad even if he has to plan around how much heavier it will be for Jenny, and follows her towards the nearest attraction that seems unpopulated by teens, which is a large inflatable slide. A fat, long-haired man and a skinny blonde person are standing a little ways away from it. Ephraim and Elle, Mel recalls.

“What do you do here?” Mel asks the both of them.

“Isn’t it obvious?” says Ephraim. “You slide.”

“No, I mean you,” Mel says, putting his tote bag of apples down. Jenny reads a sign nearby, shells out some quarters, and gets two tickets from the blonde person. “What do you do? What’s your job with the bouncy house?”

“Make sure people don’t take a fork to it,” says Elle. “Okay, now you give those tickets to me and you can ride.”

“Why do I buy tickets from you if I’m just going to give them back to you to ride?” Jenny asks.

Elle shrugs. “I never said it was efficient. It’s just policy.”

“It feels like the opposite of efficient, actually,” says Ephraim, scratching his neck. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve been here for years.”

“Oh, yes.” Elle looks sort of down and sideways at him. “Like three years. Maybe even four. I’m shocked Bren hasn’t moved out.”

“Where is Bren?” Mel asks.

“School,” the pair say, in unison. Jenny nods understandingly.

Mel leaves them and climbs up the grips beside the slide. He finds he is not very good at climbing them, despite his substantial experience with trees. The slide has a piece of paper taped to it at the top which says in all-caps Arial 35-point bold font PLEASE SLIDE ONE AT A TIME, but the inflatable is very large, and Mel thinks it is pretty silly to be told what to do as an adult, so he waits until the two slide-watchers are looking the other way and yanks Jenny down with him. She screams all the way down, but in fairness, neither Elle nor Ephraim seem to be doing their job very well. Mel picks up his tote bags and jogs off towards a wall of plants near the edge of the field just in case, trailing Jenny.

“Wait!” she says, just as he stops to investigate the weird plant wall. It appears to be corn. Also, there is an opening that Mel can just walk into, so he does. It does not count as a door, so he doesn’t have to ask. “Mel!”

“I’m taking a walk in the corn,” says Mel, peeking around a corner. “Human people really just do this? It’s not serial killer behavior?” 

“It’s a corn maze,” says Jenny, grabbing hold of his arm. “Now, don’t go anywhere or else we’ll get lost.”

“But I’ve already taken two turns,” says Mel, because he has. And he’s not sure which direction he turned in, come to think of it.

Jenny groans loudly.

“Okay,” she says. “Fortunately for us, I know the secret to all mazes. Just hug the right-hand wall.”

“Do you predict we will make it out of this corn maze alive?” asks Mel, because he would like to see her predict something.

Jenny puts a hand to her mouth. She considers.

While she is considering, Atlas falls out of the corn. He picks himself up, brushing off his goth outfit. His piercings look different today. He does not seem to catch Jenny’s annoyed glance.

“You seen a guy around here?” he asks. “Oddly dressed? White? Really unfortunate hairline?”

Mel thinks about this.

“Oh!” he says. “Constantine? No, I don’t believe so. Not yet.”

“Okay. Well, if you see him—” Atlas waves his hand demonstratively. “Make his life hell, or whatever. We are making up for two incidents of wrong pronouns and one incident of—just a really weird thing to say, like, who dresses up their pumpkins anyway, and if you’re going to dress them up, why the fuck are you so specific about which one of them wears a bow tie—anyway, you haven’t seen him?”

“We have not seen any guys matching your description,” Mel confirms. “Or dressed pumpkins.”

“How long have you been looking?” Jenny asks.

“I started a while ago,” Atlas admits, “but I got distracted. I also lost count. And I switched the bow tie and the corsage on the pumpkin, because, again—fucking corsage pumpkin. Pumpkins don’t have hands.” He pulls a piece of corn husk out of his hair.

“This sounds very distressing,” Jenny says, “only you interrupted me in the middle of a prediction about whether I am going to live or die, so I am a bit distracted right now.”

“Oh,” says Atlas. “Sorry. But I have to be going, anyway. I came to this pumpkin patch to do two things, and I’m all out of pussy, or whatever. Hold this, just in case.” He gives Mel an unseasonal water balloon and disappears back into the corn. 

Mel processes this.

A woman steps carefully out of the corn from roughly the same direction as Atlas’s initial trajectory, buttoning up her vest. Mel looks away from the vest and sees that she is also wearing a white button-up, a burgundy coat, and an ascot the same color as the aforementioned coat. This makes her definitely Kay, he thinks, also from last year. She puts a finger to her lips and seems about to return to the corn when she spots the water balloon in Mel’s hands and frowns. She takes it from Mel, turns in the other direction, and flings it absolutely as hard as she can. It skips a few times on the ground, then explodes. Kay nods to Mel, then disappears into the other side of the corn wall.

“See?” Mel says. “Total serial killer behavior.”

“We live,” Jenny says, looking up. “Sorry. Had to kind of start from the beginning there. Anyway, they were cheating; you’re not supposed to walk through the corn.”

“Well, of course not,” says Mel, putting his hands on his hips; “there would be no point to it then. We are going to make it out of this maze. Sorry for making you precognize.”

“It’s fine,” Jenny says, and she takes his hand normally this time. “Only, I was going to say, you have to stop running away everywhere. I’m going to lose track of you.”

“I’m sorry,” Mel says, honestly. They take a right turn. “You’re always right there, is all.”

“I know. And I am enjoying myself. Which is to say—” Jenny pauses. “I mean, I like being with you. One could even say,” she tries, “that I l—”

A man falls face-first out of the corn. When he gets up, Mel sees his hairline.

“Someone’s looking for you,” he says.

“My son?” Constantine Rainier asks.

“Well,” Mel says. He forgot for a second that Kay was closeted, and/or that Constantine was dumb. “Not exactly. But Atlas was, for sure. He gave me a water balloon, which is gone now. Probably against policy.”

Constantine runs his hand through his carefully gelled hair.

“It was a perfectly reasonable discussion,” he mutters. “Dressing pumpkins is a grand tradition. I find it quite relaxing, personally. I can’t help it that there is no gender-neutral formal attire for the squash.”

Mel and Jenny look at each other.

“Total serial killer behavior,” Jenny says.

“Serial killer,” says Mel, “and cannibal behavior.”

“Harsh!” Jenny comments.

“I tell it like it is,” Mel says, shrugging.

“My son will find me eventually,” Constantine says as Mel and Jenny walk past him. “Hopefully before Atlas.”

“Keep your eyes suuuuuuper wide open!” Jenny calls back, and then she pats Mel’s arm. Mel thinks back.

“One could even say?” he tries.

“Hm? Oh.” Jenny droops a little. Her ponytail falls over her shoulder. “No, one couldn’t say. Or maybe one could say, but apparently, I couldn’t say it.”

“You were so rudely interrupted,” Mel agrees, patting her arm. “I’m sorry, Jenny.”

“It’s okay.” Jenny helps him round another bend. “I mean, there are other things to do here. Maybe the pumpkins will give me bravery.”

“Oh, yes!” Mel had forgotten that the patch would have purchasable pumpkins. Perhaps primarily, per pumpkin patch particularization.

“And look,” Jenny says, pulling Mel out into the field proper again. “We made it! No thanks to your running off, of course.”

“What would I do if you weren’t there to—what do you British people say? Get me out of scrapes?”

Jenny does not reply, which Mel is at first worried at, but then he looks over and sees she is busy staring lovingly at him. He lets her do it for as long as she wants, and even does it a little back, at least until he trips over a pumpkin and interrupts whatever she was about to say.

“Hey!” It’s Eliza again. She’s in a booth, of all things, with a sign for various confections and a pair of guys struggling with a cotton candy machine behind her. Red and Avner, judging by the ostentatious hair. “You break it, you buy it!”

“We’re working on buying it!” Jenny yells back, before bending down to inspect the kicked pumpkin. Mel bends down, too, though he’s not really sure what he’d do with it. It looks like a pumpkin. No corsage or bow tie, Mel notes approvingly. Actually, he’s not opposed to dressing it up—maybe with some felt bunny ears, and a little pom-pom for a tail… 

He’s about to ask Jenny for her opinion on a possible pumpkin craft night, maybe on Tuesday night when they’re both not stuck at the shop, but when he looks up she is concentrating very hard on something.

“Jenny?” he asks, gently.

“Sorry,” she says. “Just—formulating things. In my mind.”

“Is it the pies?” he asks, hefting two pumpkins into his arms. “I think these are very good, by the way.”

“Oh? Oh, sure.” Jenny takes one, and also one of Mel’s totes. She brings them over to the booth, where Red and Avner continue to do something to the cotton candy machine—possibly fixing it, but if so not very successfully. Red flings a pouf of cotton candy floss at Avner, who ducks it and then catches it with one hand. Eliza sets Mel’s pumpkins on a scale, which seems like a funny way to value them. Mel picked them for roundness.

“Do you all work here?” he asks, as Jenny counts out change.

“Well,” Eliza says, “I work here. Those two get paid to flirt.”

“This is extremely important work,” Avner gets out, ducking another pouf and barely catching the next in his mouth. “We’re—cleaning out the machine—”

“Send the next one to me, then,” Eliza says, and in the middle of counting Jenny’s cash she turns her head and bites it clean out of the air. Mel applauds quietly. Jenny reaches for his arm, and he gives her a reassuring pat, just in case.

When they make it back to their bus stop, tote bags in tow, Jenny is quiet again. Mel waits patiently for her, watching: the way her curls spiral together and apart in the inconsistent wind, the way the traffic lights reflect in the corner of her dark eyes, the set of her unconscious pout. She takes a deep breath, and the set of her shoulders changes, pulling together and then apart again.

“Jenny,” he says—she looks up, alarmed—“I have something important to tell you.”

“Me too!” she says. “But—no, you go first.”

“Oh,” Mel says. “Well, thank you. The important thing is that: I love you very much.”

Jenny blinks at him. She sits up very straight. “But, Mel—that’s what I was going to say!”

“It is not. Oh,” says Mel, thinking again, “is that what you’ve been trying to say all day? Well, sure, then. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t steal my idea. But I’m glad we agree,” he says, patting her arm, as Jenny buries her head in her hands. “Oh. Jenny?”

“Yes?” she says, her voice muffled. The bus huffs obediently down the street, pausing at the intersection ahead of them for the stoplight.

“Can we dress our pumpkins when we get home?”

Jenny looks up at Mel. She gives him a silly, pretty little smile.

“Yes,” she says, “of course,” and she kisses him before hauling up the tote bag on one arm and stepping up onto the bus. Mel pauses—just to admire the view—before following her in, looking forward to pumpkin crafts and even more beyond.

[driftwork]

collisions (4)

He came down the stairs, carrying his two black and brown leather travelling bags and bumped his head on the ceiling as he stepped forward. This gentle collision set the day off and eventually led him to board a plane.  He sat down for breakfast and banged his right knee on the table leg. The breakfast was fairly typical for the island  consisting of two courses, a bowl of rice and greens, followed by a simple petit déjeuner (often referred to as a Continental breakfast)  made up of coffee with French-style baguette bread, with strange dark  jam, made from some local fruits with walnuts suspended in it... Afterwards  he bought some bottles of water and his luggage on the back seat, drove off to the north, towards the last few coastal villages he needed to survey. He never made it.  Colliding with things and others can result in a wide range of consequences. Sometimes it was as little as a dull thud, or at the other extreme the collision can result in a flash of inspiration,  furious explosion, sometimes even. much rarer, enlightenment. Perhaps we are observing a gradual existential and biological incline. But here on this island off the coast the extreme heat had been causing his balance go off and he thought it was because he didn’t belong on this island. So here he was driving along a nearly empty road a few days before going to the airport to fly north, and he narrowly missed colliding with a bus and as he braked and then standing on the side of the dusty road, it  produced a moment of inspiration  which felt as if it would last for years to come. Enough, he said, enough, I've had enough of this place. The implausibility of making himself understood had become so all consuming and constraining that he felt it relieved him of any duties to the world, leaving him in a state of folly. A place of ignorance.  In praise of folly. An ontology of folly, I must go home. He unfolded the paper map and decided to drive back towards the airport rather than continue driving to the coast road [...]  A near collision that took him away from the sea. He turned his phone into standby, and dropped it into the roadside ditch. He missed the turning, and  stopped, reversed back past the turning, scraping the side of the old landrover on a large boulder as he turned in the general direction of the airport.  Perhaps though,  he was in the place of the impossibility of making himself understood on this island. One collision too many, one bruise too many, one misunderstood communication too many,  so he never went to the small port where the woman he was looking for was staying. An hour or so later he stopped in a village in the hills. Leaving the vehicle  outside the convenience store and cafe, bought some food and cans of water. He collided with the door and counter of the shop,  the shop assistant exhorting him to be careful, insisting that we can put ourselves back together. I am a mass of bruises from colliding with things  He told him. After sitting beneath the fan, the cooler air colliding with his head and body,  freshly boiled water and a strange fruit tea bag,  the assistant  gave him a clap on the back so intense he thought it might harm him;  like the kind of blow an enemy who is intent on reminding us that some collisions are needed to bring us back to the surface  in an instant. And that was it,  he remained on island for a day or two, for now he was back in the landrover driving towards the airport and a hotel.  Still even here he was thinking he should be back in London again, whilst looking forward to a night in the luxury tourist hotel. He crashed the landrover into a concrete pillar in the carpark, colliding because the brakes failed. Shit he said kicking the tyres in despair. Then making calls, reporting that she wasn't here. He ignored their mundane instructions. Later when asked he would say, what instructions I didn't hear any. He lay in the hot bath luxuriating in the scented water easing his aching muscles. He reads "As a result of serious trauma, or sometimes for no reason at all, the path splits and a new, and a new, unprecedented persona comes to live with the former person, and eventually takes up all the room.” Is that me? he thinks, are these collisions. which. made me lie here in this nice bath really a catastrophe, causing a breakdown, needing repairs or promises? He reads some more sentences, a few pages, thinks of the maps diagrams left in the landrover. He put on some clean clothes and went down to eat, feeling like a new being. The next morning he booked the. first available flight back to the north. What was I thinking taking this job? All I ever did was collide into things. He stayed around the hotel until the next morning and caught a flight to Frankfurt…

[inthiseternalmoment]

When one door closes, another door opens

I took the chance to catch Felipe in person and was able to adjust the tattoo snafu, and now a new travel opportunity might have opened up as a result

9/11/2023

After the tattoo snafu from yesterday, it dawned on me that I could maybe still get a tattoo from Felipe on the open spot on my thigh that I’ve had for a minute.

I decided to take my chances and show up to the studio in person (he had told me last week that he goes in on Mondays) and try to explain the situation and adjust our appointment.

As I was waiting for the bus, I remember how down on myself I felt. The emotion I felt most was sadness at how hard on myself I was. The visual of Violet in the first Incredibles came up where she apologized to her mom after failing to create a forcefield big enough to protect the airplane from the missiles.

I was Violet. I was so hard on myself for not being able to “know how to do everything” and therefore become some sort of burden/failure to the people around me. It’s an old narrative that I’ve been running for a long time now, and I want to put it to rest.

There’s no way for me to know everything in this experience because that was never the purpose of life, nor the way it was designed.

Where did it come from?

I think I believe it helped back when I wanted to ease any pressure I put on my family for existing, but I’ve seen for a while now how hard that was for me. It contributed to this hyper-independence that also doesn’t serve me, because it kept me from accepting love in the form of help from others.

It came from the pure desire to be of service to others, but I did not incorporate the fact that I needed to also be service of myself. Over the past few years I’ve learned to finally pour back into my cup, and in doing so I know I can radiate the abundance to those around me (and pour into their cups).

…

As everything always works out, Felipe was in the studio. Once I explained, he was completely understanding and relaxed about the whole ordeal. I felt really happy and relieved that everything worked out how I had wished and I hope my sincerity came across by my action of showing up in person.

It’s really important to me to have the best relationship possible with my tattoo artist, no matter how deeply we get to know each other. I want to communicate how much I respect their time and talent through my actions, so whenever things go sideways, it’s like there is a fear that I should have “foreseen” something.

In reality, though, people have always been understanding of whatever situation comes up, and it’s like I’ve been scolding myself on their behalf when they never asked for me to do so.

There’s a healthy level of this mechanism that I like, and it’s the extent that drives me to show my respect for others through my actions. At the same time, life might have other plans and I need to be understanding of that first and foremost before I try to convince others (that I worry I’ve “let down”) to be understating.

I’m now scheduled to get a thigh tattoo with Felipe, and already I can see the benefits of doing so because it gives me the opportunity to potentially get to know him better before he tattoos my neck (a placement where I doubt I’ll be able to talk during).

I’m a little nervous to say “excited,” though, because of the roller coaster that was last week. Maybe I need to feel the dust settle a little before I can ease into this new direction. I embrace change and redirection, and at the same time I recognize it can be intense.

…

Another door that this has opened up is the possibility for travel during at the beginning of November. Aprille has been wanting to book a trip for a few days and I wasn’t sure about it given my original tattoo appointments, but this rescheduling has opened the opportunity wide open.

We are looking at potentially going to PR, and that’ll be incredibly interesting for both of us in many different ways if it ends up happening. I’ll definitely write on this more as things become solidified.

What I can point out at this moment is a hilarious synchronicity: we’re planning to fly out on Halloween, the same exact day last year that we flew out to live in NYC for a month.

For now, I’m happy that things can finally start to settle in general. I will probably reach out to Felipe with some additional references for the upcoming leg tattoo, but all in all, I feel that this tower moment is over.

[laurenceslife]

Chapter 22

            Next day, during a filming break, the wind’s power immediately began growing at a huge speed. It brought lots of sand from the wind’s direction, and it was even hard to walk in it.

Everybody got to be full of sand, they were breathing with difficulty by the huge powered wind, especially this way that the sand also pretty much got mixed up with the air. Everybody was loudly grumbling, annoyed or swearing; the filming’s continuation was postponed, and they fled into the bus they came by.

They already would have set off back for the hotel when Francis began to speak:

- Oh my God! – he cried out in horror, looking back.

The others looked back, too, and saw that the storm destroyed almost the whole film set.

            On the basis of Francis’ idea, the filming continued with the demolished film set until the film set would be made again, but since the day of the sandstorm, he was even more restless again, like when Marlon and Harvey were the reasons why there were problems with the filming.

- I’ve never seen him like this before – Larry said to Martin when they were having dinner together – He’s like he went mad and depressed at the same time. Like he’s got a panic attack and burst of anger at the same time – the boy’s face was sympathizing.

- In its beginning, he hadn’t even comprehended it – Martin said – While he’s starting to regain consciousness from the numbness that defends him against it, it’s just getting worse and worse. I’m twitchy, too; I’ve been pinning my hopes on this movie. It’s not healthy this way that he leads the filming in that state of mind. The result also would be better if he could concentrate more, and we could perform better, too, if he didn’t yell at us.

            Days were passing, and Francis was driving the actors so hard that everybody got up restlessly, and groggily had a breakfast, went to the set, shot the movie, went back to the hotel to take a shower, to clean their teeth and to sleep late at night, every day except on Sunday. What Larry was chiefly thinking about, wasn’t when he could meet with Jenny again and that he should forgive Emily, because Francis and Martin were on the edge of exhaustion psychosis if they hadn’t cracked up completely yet.

Later, Francis succeeded in accepting that he panicked and drove the actors very hard in vain, he only used to stifle the fact inside him that they would have been ready in vain filming those scenes which didn’t need the entire film set, because after a while, it was going to be necessary to wait until the film set would be ready, and since then, they didn’t shoot through so many hours every day, but Francis and Martin had still been very restless.

- John, I’ve told you a thousand times that this script’s lousily not OK! – Francis yelled at the scriptwriter on the last day of February.

- I don’t believe it! You don’t understand that with those cheap guns, every armed scene will be worthless! – the thirty-one-year old, bearded John Milius tried to persuade him, shouting, too.

- Your huge gun-mania’s what I’ll die of! You will rewrite the scenes, full period! Less gunfight, cheaper guns!

The actors were only watching them while the two men were quarreling over it in their presence. By this, Larry found a further subject for his conversations with Jenny.

Then the two bearded men agreed with each other on writing on the script later together and now rather going back to the hotel to have a rest.

            Next day, it was Sunday, so there wasn’t any filming. Larry happened to be watching TV when Emilio knocked on the door.

- I was just told that Dad caught a heart attack, and was taken to hospital – he said, trembling and almost scared to death – Are you coming with me to the hospital?

- Yeah – the other boy said, almost scared to death, too, and they already set off - But why aren't you going with your family? – Larry was surprised.

- My mom has gone there already but didn't want us to go there.

- And how can he have a heart attack?! – Larry asked on the way – He’s only thirty-five years old and isn’t even fat! Or does he have some heart disease?

- While he doesn’t have that either! – Emilio said, in astonishment, too.

- Cool it, he’ll surely survive, he’s still young – Larry said when they were on a bus already but his voice was still panicky, too.

- How’s he now? – Larry asked when they had arrived in the hospital, and Martin's doctor happened to be going into the ward.

- He’s still in critical condition. His heart has stopped once, and it can happen again several times.

- When can we go in? – Emilio asked in a trembling voice.

- We’ll speak to you guys when he regains consciousness but it can take even hours.

- We'll be waiting for a while – Larry said, and he and the other boy sat down on two chairs with trembling legs.

The doctor went in, and Larry was leaning his head on his hands and watching the white tiles with lowered head. He felt like he was in a surreal dream.

He was trying to make himself get used to the thought that his friend could die, and then he rather didn’t even dare to think of it.

- Do your brothers and sister know what happened? – he asked.

- Yeah but they’re too young yet to come here - Emilio said, looking down, too.

Then they heard that the man was being revitalized again in the ward. 

- I'll rather get off ’cause one goes crazy by it – Emilio stood up. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He hadn’t been ready to get to know that he died.

- Where are you going? – the other boy asked.

- Just to the first floor. 

- Me too - Larry stood up, too, at the end of his tether, and they set off.

They went downstairs to the diner, and were rather waiting there for the doctor's notification about Martin dying or waking up, not to be hearing the attempt to revitalize him.

- Are you guys waiting for anybody? – the seller girl asked who could be between twenty and twenty-five, and her black hair was in a ponytail on her back.

- Yeah – Larry answered gloomily, watching the greenish blue, little table.

- Won't you guys buy anything till then? Or are you guys gonna eat anything together? – the girl asked tensely.

The boy sighed.

- There’s no money with me, I came to my friend suddenly who’s being revitalized now, and we didn’t wanna hear it, and now we're waiting for the doctor to inform us if he died or regained consciousness! – he shouted furiously.

Emilio couldn't even begin to speak, and the girl and the two older women and an old man who were in the diner, looked at him, startled by his shouting and by what he said.

The girl went up to Larry and Emilio, and sat down at their table.

- I’m sorry… Of course, you guys don’t have to buy anything – she said – Your friend will surely recover, calm down.

- OK – the boy sighed.

Then Martin’s doctor appeared.

The boys quickly stood up from the chairs, and were waiting for the man with infinite terror to tell them if Martin died.

The girl went back behind the counter, and was looking at them, sympathizing.

- I thought you guys haven’t gone away yet – the doctor began it – So your friend regained consciousness; you guys can go in.

- OK, thanks – Larry said, and he and Emilio went back upstairs, then went in through the ward’s door.

Martin was connected to machines, and was lying in the bed; he was snowy and motionless. Larry got frightened of him. He seemed to be dead already, like he was only left on the machines.

- Hi… - the man said weakly, slowly turning his head towards the boys; till then, he was watching the ceiling.

- Hello – Larry said after going there slowly – How are you feeling? – he asked the stupid question like he couldn’t see how weak he was, and Emilio was speechless by the sight.

- It's so good... that I can see... you guys... one more time, too - the man was panting - I… will be… with Jesus… soon.

- The doctor didn’t say it so it’s surely not true – Emilio said but his voice was extremely scared.

- Maybe he… hasn’t… told or… he can’t… tell kids, the patient… neither. Call a priest!

The nurse told the boys to already let the patient rest.

In the corridor, he and Larry met the doctor, and asked him about what prospect Martin had.

- He is critically ill. His heart can stop at any moment, and after a while, probably we can’t revitalize him anymore. There’s very little hope of him staying alive – the man said in a low voice.

Emilio flopped down to one of the chairs, and Larry began feeling dizzy, too.

- The doctor said there’s very little hope but he didn't say there’s no hope – Larry said to calm both of them down – But now you’ve got to comply with what your dad said to do.

Then they saw that a priest was already going into the ward.

- Well, OK, I won't stay here anymore – the boy set off with Larry.

They went downstairs, and left the hospital. Larry had never pitied anybody more than Emilio and Martin.

They went back to the hotel.

Larry went in his own suite, and called Zac who always put him in a better mood.

He was reporting to him about everything that had happened since they had last talked, and Zac was also telling him everything that had happened to him since then, then they were talking about good movies and girls to divert Larry’s thoughts from what happened to Martin.

- Why don’t you call Jenny? – Zac asked – You have time to talk to her now.

- Maybe it’s not a good idea now that I’m so broken down…

- Why? You could be chatting with her like with me. It’s possible to also chatter about other things, not only about bad things.

- OK, you succeed in talking me into that. Thanks for the advice.

Larry was talking to Jenny on the phone, and then went with Emilio and with Kerry, one of the actors, to a place of entertainment to drink and play billiards.

They were guffawing a lot at one another’s stories and comments while drinking.

When they had gone back to the hotel, Larry succeeded in falling asleep by the alcohol instead of considering whether Martin would stay alive.

            Next morning, when he was having a headache and felt sick, received that he drank a lot.

He was even letting the breakfast out of the day, and when his stomach had been better, he began drinking lots of water for his headache, on the advice of Emilio.

On the set, he had still been constantly making up for the liquid what the alcohol sucked away when they weren’t shooting his scenes, but still hardly could concentrate on the filming by the headache, so Francis was yelling at him because the man was broken down, anyway, because of losing Martin and because of the other things that had happened to the filming.

Later, Emilio’s advice was effective, so Larry could concentrate on working already, so the director stopped yelling at him.

On the other hand, when he had arrived back in the hotel, he met his mother in the living room, and she asked him about what was yesterday and how the filming was going, and when Larry told him, Hattie told him off because he appeared on the set with a hangover. Hattie said, different directors, who didn’t treat him like he was their son, would have had a quarrel with him forever and would have discredited him, so nobody would have worked with him anymore, and his career would have been lost. She said, if he would have such a big move like this one more time, she would call his father there.

Larry was having a conscience without it too, about last night, he still felt good while Martin was dying in the hospital.

His mother’s hysteria put the lid on it to him – he thought when he went in his room, and began throwing everything at the wall he found in the room. He didn’t care that he would have to pay them, and anyway, he was mostly throwing his own clobbers at the wall, and they weren’t so luxury items that it would have been hard to make up for them.

Fortunately, his mother didn’t notice that it was happening in his room, she thought one of Martin’s sons was doing it.

            Larry and Martin’s family systematically went to see the man, and sometimes some other actors of the film went to see him, too. The morale was like he already died. Janet, his wife, the still very young children and Martin’s mother constantly cried, and the others fled into cherishing illusions of that little hope that he would stay alive.

One of his brothers Joe was playing his role so it wouldn’t be necessary to delete his scenes while a lot of things had delayed completing the movie already. Francis wouldn’t even have had enough nervous system to shoot all of Martin’s scenes again, and his brother traveled there to go to see him, anyway.

- You hardly call me already since Martin had a heart attack, while I and my family are gonna fly there for the spring holiday because of you – Jenny burst in saying it some weeks later.

- I didn’t want to stick this mournful mood on you – Larry said sullenly – I don't wanna you to constantly comfort me, and don't wanna scare you away - he continued a lot gentler.

- I thought you constantly go to see him ’cause he's more important to you - the girl said, startled - So what do you do when we're not talking?

- I talk to my cousins and friends - he sighed and sat down on the bed - I hear what happens to them, and we talk about that, not to think of Martin during it... I haven’t even gone to see him for a while, not to see what shape he’s in...

- Maybe he's already better, and you don't even know it yet because of it. Also, maybe he’s missing you. I already know I was selfish, and you are that now, too, ’cause you don't give poor one's due, his having a friend next to him before he dies. By the way have you even at least asked anybody about how he is? Maybe he's not even dying anymore! What if he started to recover from his heart attack?

The boy furiously stood up from the bed.

- I can see what state of mind his family is in, every time I notice them in the corridor of the hotel! - he said furiously, desperately and almost shouting it - I know that my friend's dying and I can't do anything against it by going to see him! It's the same to him already, anyway! Isn't it the same to him what happened to him before his death?! - he clonked back to the bed.

- I know it's hard for you now.

- It's good that you're talking to me - he said in a low voice - Do you still wanna meet with me?

- Of course.

            Later, he went to be filming, and then he was having dinner together with some actors.

- Hey Larry, how’s Martin? – Harrison asked while stuffing the beef into his mouth.

- The same health of state – the boy said in an expressionless voice.

- At least his condition hasn’t changed for the worse.

- So there’s some hope yet – Scott said.

Larry suddenly stopped eating.

The possibility that there would be such a period before his death when there would be no more hope that he would stay alive, hadn’t even come into his head yet. He was already terrified that Martin would already surely die, and he wanted to reassure himself that his condition hadn’t changed for the worse. He could only achieve it by going to see him and talking to his doctor, so he decided to go to the hospital to visit him tomorrow.

            Because of the possibility that Martin would already surely die, he still hardly could be sleeping at night. It came into his head that he could be almost only better than his latest condition, at least how he knew it before, but because of the same thing, there was more possibility that he would die, so he was in the same health of state or in a worse health of state.

He sleepily got up, had breakfast with his mother and with Emily, then went to the set. Of course, buses go from the jungle to the hospital and they were taken back to the hotel by cars, so he set off to the hospital from the hotel. From there, he found his way to the bus stop, and knew where to get off and where to go because he systematically went to Martin before.

On the bus, when he was seeing through the windows that they were going towards the hospital, he felt the tension already by it, because he would see one of his best friends in that shape again.

When he had arrived in the hospital, and opened the door of the ward, the sight of his pale, motionless friend who was connected to machines, hit him again.

He wasn’t counting on his family to be there, but several members of his family were there.

First, Janet contemptuously looked at him because he came only after two weeks, but in the next moment, Charlie ran up to him joyously.

- Imagine what happened, the doctor just said that our dad’s condition got better, and already there was a lot more chance of his recovering! – he said. Larry only then noticed that he was connected to fewer machines and wasn’t so pale anymore.

First, Larry was happy about it, but then was lingering some yards from the door, embarrassed, because he wanted to talk to the man between the two of them to be able to tell him why he hadn’t gone to see him for two weeks. He couldn't send the others out of the ward after what happened.

- When we will be the two of us, I’ll tell you why I haven’t come to see you for two weeks – he said in a puzzled voice.

- We’re curious to know it, too – Janet began to speak furiously – He said he missed you but didn't want us to nag you if you didn’t wanna come.

- I didn’t wanna see him that way – Larry said in a low voice – That's why I haven’t come.

- I forgive you – Martin smiled.

- Thanks – his friend went up to him, and sat down at the edge of his bed – So many things happened that you missed! – he said enthusiastically – I'm gonna tell you when I won’t be bothering the others. And how are you? Do you also feel that you’re better?

- In these circumstances, when you guys are here, yes.

[vannrichmond-archive]

COASTIN’ 

where → a lake somewhere  when → july 4, 2012 mentions → @junewatson

He had to of been a special kind of dumb. There was no other explanation for it. He wasn’t the kind of guy who invited girls places, he hadn’t been since well—high school, and even then he didn’t do it, it was assumed. But he still found himself inviting her here, and he knew he was all but going to catch hell for it. Vann had tried to play it off, me and a few buddies do a fourth of July thing every year, you want to come? They invite everyone, so wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t already heard about it. He didn’t know if she would have or not, but it made it seem like he was playing it down, but if you knew him, and knew he didn’t pick up the phone to invite a single living soul, you would have already known if was a big deal. 

Day of, was nothing special. What felt like 40 boats, which in reality was probably more like 5, and 20 people later, everything was ready. As always, Vann had a certain air about him, it was obviously clear he was the ring leader in this thing, but he was in most things that involved anyone. He liked being the person everyone looked up to, for whatever reason, maybe it was an ego thing, but either way, that left all the planning to him. People coming and going after getting whatever direction they needed, the morning was a stream of people. It wasn’t until they were all getting ready to launch off the dock that he saw the small blonde, and god damn it, if he didn’t smile. “I didn’t think you were comin’.” He told her, and she looked to her feet then back to him, “I did.” He shook his head, “I can see that.” It was a little obvious, but it was what it was. “Uhm, I think you might know just about near everyone, so just—pick a boat.” He laughed, but it really was that simple. Eventually they would all turn into a floating party barge tied together when they decided to not care about driving or whatever water sports anymore, but until then, it was just a choice. “Which one are you on?” She asked, and it reminded him a little like claiming a seat on a bus, and there was something in that he liked. “Blue one.” He pointed, “Scott is driving.” She smiled at him, and picked up the small bag she had and went in the direction he pointed. Vann took this opportunity to watch her as she was walking away. It was a nice bathing suit, it’d be nicer when it was wet, but that’d come in due time. 

They’d been talking at this point, for the better part of three months. He was mildly surprised at himself, that he was even still interested. He usually had a weekend limit on a girl, and not usually because they had done anything wrong, it was just that he didn’t see himself with someone long term. He wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship, hell, he didn’t even want one. He didn’t want the nagging or the where are you, or who are you with, or why haven’t you called me. He didn’t need that kind of stress in his life, he didn’t want to be accountable to anyone but himself, it was easier that was, especially when you were out on the road. But with her, it’d never been like that with her. When she called or texted he wasn’t annoyed that she was trying to talk to him, like she was wasting his time. He liked talking to her, liked spending time with her when they were in the same place, it was just nice. But maybe it was more of a friendship thing. Sure, he thought she was hot, he wouldn’t talk to her if he didn’t, but the girl hadn’t even given him an inkling that maybe there was something more there. Sure they’d made out a few times, but come on. It was slowly turning into a cautionary tale of she’s just not that into you, and ultimately, maybe that’s why he’d invited her. Separate himself from it once and for all, and now he just had a friend—gross. 

With everything seemingly ready to kick off, he finally made his way over to the boat he’d said he get on, and found a seat in the ring of seating at the nose of it. “Let’s fuckin’ get this show on the road.” He said, and there was a loud whoop from everyone in ear shot and the group was off. He wasn’t sure if he had sat next to her on purpose, but there he was, and there she was. “You kick their asses yet?” He laughed a bit, and she nodded, “I let them know who is in charge.” She responded and he gave her a knowing nod. He didn’t get the impression that she took much shit. She had been sheltered by Karli maybe a little too long, but that wasn’t his place to say anything. “You know how to swim, right?” He asked, not recalling a point in time where they would have talked about each other’s swimming abilities, “if not, there’s life jackets in the floor.” He said, “and if you’re goin’ta do anything, probably should wear one anyways.” This time he shrugged, I mean, boat rules were boat rules, how was he supposed to know if she knew anything about them. June only laughed, “I’ve been on a boat before, and I know how to swim.” Vann nodded at her, “good to know.” She lightly punched him in the shoulder and he shook his head with a small laugh. 

A few king of the world wakeboard rides, and he was just about done with all the physical activity he was willing to put in for the day, so he found himself back at the front of the boat. June’s turn on the back, he watched a bit before sprawling out on the seat up front, sunglasses over his eyes, there was nothing quite like a little nap on a boat. Eyes closed, beer in one hand, just enjoying the noise of his friends laughing, the waves slapping, he felt a hand on his chest “Vann.” June had said, but he didn’t respond, simply so he could hear her say his name again. “Vann.” This time a little more command on her voice, the corner of his mouth tipped up as he finally looked up at her, “what?” He asked playfully, “you’re takin’ up the whole seat.” Vann rolled his eyes before sitting back up straight, “god forbid I’m comfy.” At that she rolled her eyes and sat next to him. “You’re always comfy.” She lamented, “too comfy if you ask me.” She said back pointedly, “good thing I ain’t ask you, then ain’t it?” She smacked him on his chest at that, but still leaned on him. Reaching across her body, he snaked a hand in the cooler, fishing out a beer, only to hand it to her. It was the right thing to do, couldn’t leave her empty handed. 

What started as them watching everyone else do their things, Vann getting into small bickering arguments with every single one of his friends of the most ridiculous of things, turned into June all but sitting on him, legs across his lep as she half used him for support and half used the boat. Lost in a conversation between themselves, his attention was turned when another girl yelled at him. Something along the lines of what was he doing later, and him all but blowing her off, he hadn’t invited her he didn’t care about her, but in the same vein, the girl on his lap was feeling a little bit the same way. He really didn’t need any more friends, and well, her sitting on him was rude. 

“Vann?” She asked after he’d blown the other girl off, “what are we doin’?” He looked at her, a little puzzled, “what do you mean?” He asked, looking at her, brow rose. “Well.” She started, looking around, there really wasn’t anyone within earshot that could hear her over the waves and the music, “we’ve been talkin’ for months, I mean, you call me in the middle of the night, when we’re in the same town we’re always together, we make out all the time.” He listened as she went, he didn’t think they made out all the time, and he didn’t do all of that—did he? But he didn’t interrupt, “I mean I don’t know, Vann. Is it just me, or are you doin’ this with everyone, I mean—” She motion to the brunette that had just talked. “I ain’t talkin’ to her, that’s for sure.” He immediately defended himself, “that’s really not what I meant.” She said, clearly for dramatic effect. “I ain’t talkin’ to anyone else.” He said, and he could have sworn there was a little glimmer in her eye, but it was only then that it dawned on him, that he wasn’t actually talking to anyone else. 

For the first month, yeah. It was hard to kick a habit, but the more he thought about it, he sort of pulled himself away from that sort of thing. He wasn’t seeking out women in bars or at rodeos or even letting them shoot their shot. Sure, they still hung all over him, but he had never really minded that. Maybe June had a point. They kind of were talking all the time and they were hanging out whenever they got the chance, and fuck if it meant anything and it should have, he’d invited her here. He didn’t invite people to these things. They weren’t having sex though, and while, he didn’t necessarily seek that out, now that he was thinking about it, it’d been probably a month, and maybe that’s why he was getting antsy. He was starting to find himself in a place where he needed to scratch an itch and if it wasn’t going to be her, and it was continuing to look more and more like it wasn’t, it could have literally been with anyone else. It wasn’t like he had to work hard for it. 

“So what are we doing?” She asked again, “if you’re not talkin’ to anyone else, and I’m not talkin’ to anyone else?” She was looking at him, pressing on a very rusty button he’d forgotten he had years ago. Her eyes were on him, searching for an answer but he still wasn’t sure what she wanted. They weren’t having sex, she was wearing clothes like that in front of him, hanging on him, more or less just a tease, and she wanted to what? Only then did he put two and two together. Maybe they hadn’t because she wanted some sort of commitment. He knew she was religious, and that could have been the hang up, and he had only just now realized it. Did he want that though? Was she going to turn into someone that suffocating and clingy, because that was definitely something he couldn’t handle. She hadn’t been thus far, but who knew what would change when you put a title on it. 

In the space of a few seconds, his thoughts ran in circles, and she was still looking at him. So he looked at her for a long second, hand running through the short, dense hair on his jaw. He knew what she wanted, but he wasn’t so sure he could give it to her. But at the same time, what was the worst thing that could happen? It didn’t work out? He went back to living his life like he had been and she would do—what ever it was that she did. They’d be fine. “June.” He started, “you wanna be my girlfriend?” The words were foreign coming out of his mouth, but they did anyways. “Let me think about it.” She said, but there was no break in time or even like she had thought about it at all, “yes.” She said with a big smile before leaning in and kissing him, which in turn made everyone turn and look at them. “What?” He said to the eyes on them, of which in response, they all just turned away.

Vann sat there in for a minute, trying to figure out if he felt suffocated or not, like anything had changed, and they were still there. On the front of the boat, everyone was still going on around them, and nothing had changed. “You feel different?” He asked, and she shook her head, “no, am I supposed to?” He shrugged, “I don’t know, that’s why I was askin’ you.” She rolled her eyes at him, clearly happy as she leaned her head over on his shoulder, scooting further in on his lap, if it was even possible. What he did know was possible, is that still was the most unfair. Her, sitting on his lap, in a bikini no less, and he still had a feeling he wasn’t going to get any tonight. Definitely unfair.

[mittensmorgul]

So I’m still out ahead of the TNT loop, but I think 13.08 aired today for everyone still chained to the broadcast schedule. But I want everyone to pay attention to it, and then continue thinking about it while watching 13.15.

Remember back in s13, when people were like... why do we need TWO episodes about heists like this in one season? Well, I’m gonna venture to say that these were two thematically similar episodes that escalated the concept in a very specific way. And post 14.20, they are rather instructive of the largest narrative arc-- the overarching spiral of the entire story.

I’d first venture to say that these episodes are two similar yet distinctly different genres: the Heist and the Noir. 13.08 is Oceans 11, and 14.15 is The Maltese Falcon. And we wrote loads of meta on this back during s13.

But post 14.20, both of these episodes look like the Big Picture Narrative Spiral in microcosm, at two different levels. And therein lies their fundamental similarity.

1. Sam and Dean are baited into the scenario with something they want and need:

-in 13.08 it’s the spell to locate a nephilim -in 13.15 it’s the blood of a most holy man

2. The thing they want is dangled in front of them by someone who recruits them to do a different job for them in exchange for the thing they want/need:

-in 13.08 it’s to steal a chest from a vault protected by a lock that only Dean can open because he was resurrected after serving time in Hell after making a demon deal in exchange for Sam’s life (as Shrike had done in exchange for his son) -in 13.15 it’s a larger series of machinations all going back to a stolen holy relic

3. The motives of the person sending them on this quest are hidden from them at first:

-in 13.08 they’re of course suspicious of the entire deal because Crowley-cosplaying demon wants something from them, and of course they’re wary -in 13.15, they initially have no reason to doubt Greenstreet’s offer for a trade for a specific relic that he sends them off on a wild goose chase for

4. Their quest for The MacGuffin in each of these episodes leads them to uncover layer upon layer of machinations and deceptions, and in the end the motives of the people they’re theoretically working for are finally uncovered to be personal greed:

-in 13.08, the motive was Barthamus retrieving his bones, which Shrike held hostage in exchange for the cancellation of the demon deal he’d made-- because Barthamus had failed to live up to the spirit of the bargain (i.e. Shrikes son he sold his soul for died anyway, even before the expiration of his 10 year contract, cheating him out of what he paid for, effectively) -in 13.15, it’s a bit more complicated, because Sam and Dean are drawn through this intricate web of setups needed to gather ALL of these people so their original “in” on the case could maliciously essentially have all of them murdered to secure sole claim to this holy relic-- just to be able to be the one who owns it.

5. During the course of the episode, Sam and Dean discover something about one of the people they’re working alongside has been motivated to be there against their will, or not by their own free choice:

-in 13.08 it’s Alice “Snatch”, who feels compelled to continue working for Barthamus so he won’t cash in on her demon deal that she now wishes she could take back... what’s become of her life because of that bad choice turns out not to have been worth it in the present -in 13.15 it’s Father Camilleri, who had been the entrusted keeper of the relic that Greenstreet greedily wanted for himself, which was stolen from its place of veneration by his congregation, his people who had put their faith in their sacred duty to preserve it for their entire community.

6. In the end, it comes down to a heroic act by said person, made of their own free will:

-in 13.08, it’s Alice choosing to free herself from barthamus by burning his bones -in 13.15 it’s Father Camilleri literally taking a bullet for them

7. One turns out to be a huge loss, while the other a surprising gain:

-in 13.08, Alice freeing herself from the demon inadvertently burns up the other half of the spell he’d promised to Sam and Dean, rendering their entire mission effectively pointless-- except Alice does free herself and another demon is removed from the playing field... but Sam and Dean are still left without hope on their specific mission to find Jack -in 13.15, All the Bad Guys plotting and scheming to buy/steal the relic end up either dead or likely to be imprisoned, and the relic is returned to its rightful place with Father Camilleri. It looks like Sam and Dean are at another dead end for their personal quest, but because they chose to give up their quest in order to do the right thing by Camilleri and his congregation, they learn that the man himself has been accorded the title “A Most Holy Man” by the pope himself, and readily gives them the blood they’d been seeking the entire time. Twist and Win.

One is a deal with hell, the other a deal with heaven. One ends up a loss, the other appears to be a win. But what does this win actually mean at the end of the day? What does this piece in the puzzle that will help them unlock the doorway to another world provide them?

(I was about to watch 13.16 when I stopped to type this, and it’s a beautiful little detour through Cas’s mission to secure the Fruit of the Tree of Life and his “marriage” to the queen of the djinn, and there’s our “false reality” connection as plain as they can make it, while they’re trapped in a literal cartoon for most of the episode... but I’m gonna skip the rest of these “tricks,” even including Gabriel having tricked everyone and Asmodeus having tricked them all, because that entire circle of plot burns itself down in a matter of episodes, too... although I realize I could also include 13.20 in this comparison of 13.08 and 13.15, because it also fits all of these themes aptly, from a third narrative genre-- the Revenge Quest of Kill Bill, based on spaghetti westerns and martial arts films, wherein they agree to help Gabriel get his revenge in exchange for his help opening the rift-- this is the same story over and over again, told through three different narrative lenses, each with a slightly different outcome bringing them all ever closer to what they think, what they hope is finally the outcome they wanted all along... and yet... just as they secure their ultimate win, another wrench is thrown into their plans, which brings me to...)

13.23: Everyone is saved, life begins to seem like it’s returning to normal. TFW 2.0 is happily hunting together, and even talking about being able to take time off and finally get that beach vacation. I think this is the magical phrase that summons Cosmic Wrenches. Those wrenches come flying through the rift to screw them over in the form of Lucifer and Michael. And the Narrative Loop loops again.

But after 14.20, this is exactly what Chuck has been doing to them since the start. All of it. It’s all clearly encapsulated in these episodes. Even when they believe they’re acting of their own free will, their choices and actions have very little bearing on the effectiveness of their own plans. There could never be a true win for them as long as the Cosmic Wrenches continued flying, and we learned in 14.20 that Chuck never intended to stop throwing them.

Because he’s entertained watching them scramble to catch wrenches.

So here, have the takeaway from 13.15 to sum up this futility:

Dean: What? Come on. I know that look. What's on your mind? Sam: I don't know. Nothing. I mean -- I mean, you know... You ever feel like we're -- we're doing nothing but playing defense? You know, bouncing from one apocalypse to the next? Dean: Well, it's not exactly our call. Sam: I know that, and I'm not saying we don't do good. But -- but no matter how many people we save, there will always be more people that need saving. No matter how many monsters we kill-- Dean: There's always gonna be another one around the corner. Sam: Exactly. Dean: Mm-hmm. Sam: You think we could ever change things? I mean, really change things? You know, stop all the monsters, all the bad? Dean: That would be nice. Sam: Yeah. So what are you thinkin'? Think that'll work? Dean: I have faith.

Turns out they don’t need to stop “all the monsters.” They just need to stop the one wielding all the wrenches aimed directly at them.

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Don’t Stand So Close To Me (18+)

(Part 2) (Reader POV)

Teacher!Bruno Madrigal x Student!Fem!Reader

Modern Day!Imagine

Non-Magic AU

Summary: After getting caught in the rain, the reader gets a ride home with Bruno but ends up having to stay at his for a bit for the rain to settle

Warnings: Swearing, Agegap, inappropriate thoughts, teacher/student (STUDENT IS OF AGE), slight sir kink, maybe slight bimbofication

Word Count: 2347

Italics will mostly be his direct thoughts or his imagination

Author Note: So many of you asked for a part 3 and I promise that I was be making one but I first just wanted to make another part 2 but in the readers pov. I tried to write this one quick, just so I could get onto the third part as soon as possible.

Don't Stand So Close To Me (Masterlist) (Part 2) >(Part 2 Reader POV)< (Part 3) 

(I do not own this gif)

-

Reader POV

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Mr Madrigal has been preparing us all for the upcoming exams in a couple of months with practice tests and revision. Yesterday, he had given us a practice test for the topic we had learnt at the beginning of the year, and my gosh, I know nothing. Right now, I was just trying to do the questions put up on the board and I was struggling hard out. 

I really hope he doesn’t think I’m that dumb.

I think about that every day in class, whether Bruno just sees me as a dumb student. I really do try, but I just need extra help, that’s all. 

Up the front of the room, I hear him clicking his tongue, every so often. 

Oh god, it’s probably my paper he’s looking at.

I try to focus back on the work in front of me but it’s hard when I don’t even know what I’m looking at. In other classes, I would have just asked the teacher for help, but this is his class. This is the teacher that I’ve been thinking about constantly for months now!

He’ll never like a dumb girl like me.

I decide to just give up on the questions and just look around the room. Outside, I can hear the rain growing more and more aggressive. 

Damnit! I have to wait for the bus in this shit.

I looked up at the clock and saw it was almost the end of the class and the other students began packing their things away. Mr Madrgial gets up and was handing the papers out to everyone.

Shit.

The second he hands me the paper, I look up at the grade in the top corner. 

Fuck, I just barely passed.

But I knew I couldn’t keep looking through the paper, no, I had to run. The bus would be there any minute because, for some reason, they made the buses come earlier on a Wednesday. I shove the paper in my bag and run out of the room. 

I swear to god, if I miss the bus in this weather, I am going to be so pissed. 

But as I was getting close to the bus stop, I knew it was too late. The bus was just leaving.

“FUCK!” I yelled.

Great! Just fantastic! 

I knew I couldn’t call anyone to come to pick me up or anything and walking is just a no. So now, I had to wait, in the rain, for the next bus, which comes in an hour. 

Just my fucking luck.

I watch as cars drive past, wanting nothing more than to throw a rick at them for being able to be in a warm, dry car. About 10 minutes into waiting, another car come driving past but instead of driving down the road, it stopped right in front of me. They roll down the window and that’s when I see him.

Mr Madrigal.

"Are you okay?"

No.

"Yeah! I'm fine, I just missed the last bus so I'm waiting for the next!" I had to shout over the rain.

"The next bus won't come for other hours, is-is there anyone you can call?" he asked.

I just shook my head.

"Hop in, I'll take you home".

Wait- whAT!?

"It's fine! I don't want to bother you!" I yelled.

In reality, I just didn’t want the chance to embarrass myself more in front of him. 

"It's pissing down, I'm not letting you stay in the rain," he said.

I look down the street, wishing that my bus would magically come but I knew that that wouldn’t be the case. I rush over to his car and hop in as quickly as possible, not wanting rain to come in when I open the door. Once I was in, I let out a loud sigh. 

It's so warm!!

“Thank you,” I say, out of breath a bit. 

He gives me a tight smile before turning back to the road.

Thank the bloody heavens I don’t have to be in that rain anymore.

…Rain…wet….me.

I let out a little cry when I realise that I am sitting in his car, all wet.

"I'm all wet! I don't want to ruin your car," I cried.

I was pouting a little when he looked up at me.

"I should have a towel or something in the back," he said, reaching into the back and grabbing a towel from the ground. 

He handed it over to me.

"You're a life saviour, sir!" 

I started drying myself as much as possible. My clothes were clinging to my body, so that was a bit annoying. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him roll up his sleeves a bit.

Fuck.

I can't help myself from just staring at his arms. His hands grip the steering wheel with a grip I could only wish was on me. The veins in his hands pop out a bit and it just drives me crazy.

"What's your address?" He asked.

I almost didn't hear it because of how distracted I was.

I tell him my address.

"That's like a 40-minute drive from here," he said.

I start to feel bad, not wanting him to drive all the way across town just for me. 

"Yeah, it's okay if you don't drive me all the way, I can-" 

"No! U-uh, no, it's okay, I can take you," he says, a bit too quickly.

"I-uh just really don't want to send you back into that rain, ya know,"

My heart warms a little.

"Thank you, Mr. Madrigal," I said, looking at him. 

I don't usually say his name but right now, it just felt right.

About 10 minutes into the drive, the rain had noticeably gotten worse. It was pissing down so hard that we could barely even see through the window. 

Fuck, we're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die!

"It's too dangerous to drive in this weather, are you okay with just stopping in at my house and letting it settle down a bit?" He offers.

"Yeah, I think that might be best," I said, with my voice quivering a bit.

He turns to look over at me.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, just...can't see, ya know?" Laughing a bit after.

"Don't worry, okay, I won't let anything happen to you," he said.

Fuck, this man is nice!

We make a turn at the next street and a couple of minutes later, he comes up in a driveway and parks the car. I watch as he reaches into the back and pulls out an umbrella, handing it to me.

"You probably need it more than me, I'm already wet," I tried to say.

"I want you to take it," he said, quite demanding.

I took the umbrella with a little 'thank you'. We look at each other, as if we were using telepathy on when to get out. We quickly rush out of the car and dash to the door. I make sure to hold the umbrella over the both of us so we can at least stay a bit dry. He managed to get the door open and we both rushed inside and, oh my God, it is so warm!! It feels so nice!!

"Follow me," he walks down the hallway and to the left.

It was as if some in his head switched on because almost immediately, he started to move a lot faster, placing me in front of the fireplace and run to get me a blanket.

“Is there anything I can get you? Do you need a shower or anything?” the words spew out of his mouth.

"No, thank you, I'm fine, really," I say, trying to hold back my big smile.

My heart cannot handle this man.

And then I remember my test.

"Uh, sir, I had a look at the grade on my paper and was wondering if you could take me through the paper and my mistakes," I asked, slightly embarrassed.

"Uh, of course".

He came over and sat beside me. I reach into my bag and pull out the scrunched up paper, trying to smooth it out a little bit, before handing it to him. He opened it to the first page and pointed out the first mistake.

"You see, here, you used the first formula instead of the third and you don't have all the information needed for that one, so that's why you couldn't finish that question”.

I nodded a little at every statement he made.

He took me through the whole paper and explained what mistakes I made and what I should have done instead.

"I feel like an idiot!" I say, smacking my hand over my face.

"No, it's okay! Plenty of the students had trouble with this test!" he tried to reassure me.

I drop my hands from my face. 

"I just really want to pass the test, sir," I mumbled.

God, I feel pathetic.

"Uh, how would you feel about tutoring sessions? If you'd like, I could help you".

"Really?" I asked.

"Of course, we could start tomorrow if you'd like?"

"Oh my gosh, thank you, sir! You are the best teacher I could have asked for!"

"Just doing my jobs," he said with a tight smile.

“No, really sir, it means a lot”.

Before either of us could say another word, all the lights shut off.

“Woah! What happened?” I asked, frightened by the sudden light change.

“Must be a power cut,” he said, standing up to look out the window.

“How long do you think it will be like this?” I ask.

“I say at least another hour or so”.

What to do now?

“Come, sit down,” I scoot over a bit.

“W-what?”

“Sit with me, you’re probably cold,” I said, patting the spot next to me.

He slowly comes to sit next to me but leaving a bit more space than I would have liked. Sooo, I move in closer.

Start a conversation!

“Are you married?” I suddenly ask.

That causes him to choke.

“Wh-aT?” his voice cracked.

“Are you married? Or seeing someone?” I asked again.

Please say no, please say no!

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head.

“Really?! How come?”

“I-I don’t know, I guess no one really wants me”.

“I find that hard to believe, I’m sure you could get anyone you want”.

His face goes a little red.

Damnit Y/N, you probably made him uncomfortable!

The room goes quiet.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he suddenly asked.

“No,” I answered, looking into the fire.

“Oh”.

“What?” I giggle a little.

“It’s just that…I thought…a beautiful girl like you…Might be dating someone”.

Did he just call me beautiful?

“Beautiful?” I look up at him with complete admiration.

“W-well, yes,” he muttered, nervously.

I quickly looked away, my face becoming extremely hot.

“Thank you,” I whisper, just enough for him to hear.

There was no more talking after that. I was a bit tired from the day being a bit more exhausting than usual but I tried my best to stay awake. 

Ha, yeah, no, that didn’t happen.

I slowly dozed off and landed on something soft. A couple of seconds later, I feel something warm and tight wrap around me.

⌛

“Hey, Y/N. You need to wake up now,” I hear but completely ignore.

“Y/N”.

I whine a little while lifting my head up, still with my eyes closed.

“You have to wake up now, the rain has calmed down”.

It took me a while to actually process what he had just said to me. 

“What time is it?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“8ish, I’ll take you home now”. 

“Okay,” I slowly stood up and began packing my things away in my bag.

I don’t want to leave.

“You got everything?” he asked.

I nodded and we went to the front door.

We rush to the car, avoiding the rain as much as possible. We get in the car and drive off.

⌛

“Here we are!” I had woken up fully by now. 

I turn to him while grabbing my bag from the floor.

“Thank you, sir. For everything,” I give him a grateful smile.

“Of course, I’ll uh see you tomorrow”.

“See you tomorrow, Mr Madrigal, thank you!” 

I run out of the car and once I get to my door, I turn back and wave. He waved back and I enter my house.

⌛

“Ple-ase!” I whimper. 

Here I am, touching myself at the thought of my teacher. 

He would be on top of me, legs on his shoulders and cock in me but he would be still.  

“I’m not moving until you tell me what you want,” he would say. 

“Ple-eas-” 

“Talk properly”.

“Please, I want!”

“Aww, look at my dumb little girl, can’t even talk,” he would tease.

“Mo-ove please, sir!” I’d finally managed to get out. 

“See, I knew you could do it, not that dumb after all”.

He’d then slowly start moving, cooing at me every so often.

“Look at you, my beautiful girl all full with my cock”.

I use both my hands, one on my clit and the other pushing the end of a hairbrush inside me. I could only imagine how big he would actually be. 

“Fa-st-er” I’d stutter. 

“Faster? But you can’t even handle me now”.

“Please!” I’d cry.

“Oh alright”.

He’d push himself closer to me before ramming into me. 

I’m a moaning mess, pushing the brush in as far as I can possibly get it. I near climax quicker than I would have hoped for. 

“Mr Madrigal!” and with that, my legs begin to shake. 

My orgasm lasted at least 10 seconds. It took me a while to come down from my high, but I wasn’t complaining. About 10 minutes later, I decided to get out of bed and clean myself up. 

After a quick shower, I jump back in bed and think back on the wild day I had. 

I can’t wait for my tutoring sessions.

-

Author Note: I really hoped you enjoyed this one, even if it is basically just the same as the previous one, but if you’d like to be put in the taglist, just drop a comment below and if there are any specific kinks or something that you’d like, feel free to put that in as well, cause the next part is when shit is about to go down!

Taglist: elfwoodfae diannaey rennaisancebaby fapqueen scarletambitions nik-barinova little-spooky-ghost-girl  dylansoldhair

[just-jordie-things]

The Crown - Steve Harrington

word count: 4462 warnings: dedicated to @high-functioning-fangirl02 <3

You’d give your life to protect these kids.  

These kids you’ve known since you started babysitting them in the sixth grade.  Back when Mrs Henderson hired you to watch Dustin.  Which essentially meant that you’d watch all of them.  But that was alright, over the past seven years of being their designated babysitter, you’d grown to love them all.

Mike Wheeler, the snarky little love-struck shit that you spent grieving with since losing Eleven.  Lucas Sinclair, the sweet boy with the occasional attitude whom you helped construct his Ghostbusters costume. Will Byers, the full time sweetheart that made you cookies for Valentine’s Day after hearing you complain about being dateless.  And of course Dustin, cute little button nosed Dusty with a trash mouthing tendency, whom looked up to you like a role model.

Hell, you were their role model.  Driving them to and from school, covering for them on late nights so they could finish their D&D tournaments.  Fiercely protecting them a year ago when Hawkins was Demogorgon infested.  Standing up for them when you’d see some upperclassmen picking on them.

Those who dared glance the wrong way towards The Party in your presence, were rumored to run home crying with a bleeding nose and terrified shriek.  You never put down the rumors… because maybe it had happened once or twice…

Over time The Party was no longer just a band of middle schoolers.  It had opened up to their babysitter, being you, a senior girl who had not many other friends.  Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, which the boys always claimed was strictly because of family relations.  Not because Dustin was still harbouring a crush for Mike’s older sister.  The town Sheriff, Jim Hopper, who’d proved himself not to be an asshole, and turned out an alright guy.  Joyce Byers, whom you loved like a mother and whom treated you like her own daughter.  You’d frequently been titled ‘the daughter she wished to have had’ which always raised a snarky response from her sons.  Maxine (just Max.  Never Maxine) Hargrove, a high spirited and not your typical girl that you grew fond of easily.  Especially since she was nothing like her big brother.

And then there was Steve Harrington.  Who… really just was at the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up getting roped into the mess that Hawkins Lab had created.  King Steve, as you’d known him before you’d officially met last year by fluke accident, was always the popular boy that had a pretty girl hanging off his arm.  You weren’t sure why that changed so quickly, why he didn’t put himself out there as much as he used to, didn’t party hard anymore, wasn’t bragging about the new girl he was with that week like he was known for.  Maybe that day, when he walked into the Wheeler’s house right as you Nancy and Jonathan were awaiting the Demogorgon’s arrival, maybe he changed then.

Or maybe it was after he’d been sucked into… whatever this all was… and he changed to keep the secret.  Or maybe it was after Nancy had broken up with him, around the same time he started growing closer to Dustin.

But right now as you watched him directing the kids, you were more aware that he wasn’t King Steve anymore, that you had been before.  Sure, you’d realized somewhere along the way he was different.  But it wasn’t until now that you noticed it completely as it was.

“No listen you little shits, no one, is going anywhere” Steve ordered, holding a wash rag in his hand and pointing it between each of the boys, and girl, that stood in front of him.

“Friggin’ pointless just staying here” Dustin grumbled, walking out of the room whilst still muttering.  Mike groaned loudly, dramatically, and left to the living room with Max and Lucas.  You knew that he was still plotting you get out there tonight.  Consequences and dangers be damned.

You looked to Steve with a sigh, a lazy smile on your lips as you walked past him to go after Dustin.  He watched you go, letting out a breath as well as he put his hands on his hips and standing alone in the hall with his thoughts.

He’d give his life to protect these kids.

“Dusty?” You called gently as you walked into the kitchen, seeing Dustin sitting on the floor against the dishwasher.  Your brows furrowed as you sat across from him by the cabinets.  “You alright kiddo?”

“Would I be sitting in here brooding if I was?” He quipped, though you knew he meant well.

“Sweetheart you’re too adorable to be a brooder” You laughed softly, pulling your knees up slightly.  “A pouter maybe, but not a brooder”

“Thanks y/n” He responded dryly.  You rolled your eyes in response to his sarcasm.

“Come on kid, open up a little.  It’s me” Your words were soft, which did prompt Dustin to consider explaining to you his thoughts.  “Please? If we make it out of this alive I’ll take you to the arcade.  I’ve got a big jar full of quarters I’ve saved up-”

“Okay okay I’ll take the bribe” Dustin caved with a laugh that made your mood lighten.  “Look it’s gonna sound lame and cheesy but… everyone else is helping.  Jonathan and Nance and Mrs Byers and Hopper and Elle, but what am I doing?”

“You’re staying safe” Your answer came out instantly, but it didn’t seem to be the one the boy was looking for.

“No I’m not, I’m sitting on the sidelines, watching everyone else go be heroes and getting hurt.  I’m not doing a damn thing!”

“Hey” You hummed softly, and scooted over closer to put your head on his shoulder.  “You’re a hero Dustin.  Don’t tell yourself any differently.  All of you are, Mike too, and Lucas, and Max, and-”

“Steve?” Dustin offered, and you nodded, looking at him confusedly by the strange tone of voice he used.

“Of course, why’re you looking at me like that?”

“No reason” Dustin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing off the uncomfortable air between you both.

“Alright well, you should believe me” You continued.  “Even if you don’t think so, you’re all my heroes, got it Henderson?” The boy smiled and nodded, prompting you to push the cap of his hat down playfully before he could get up and leave the room.

“Mike’s probably still planning his attack” He told you, but you shrugged and waved a hand.

“Let him plot and brood” You said, and Dustin’s mouth fell open.

“How come Mike can brood but I can’t?” You rolled your eyes, still waving your hand for him to get out of here.

“Just go plot with him, I know you’re itching to” You said, and he grinned wide at you, glad you were letting him go plan their escape and attack.

“Thanks y/n!” He called, already racing out of the room.  “You’re the best!” You laughed, shaking your head as you stood back up and dusted off the pants of your overalls.  Steve came in a few moments later, watching you almost suspiciously.

“What?” You questioned, and he shrugged, shaking his head.

“Nothing.  Just wondering why you’re permitting them to conspire against us” He said.

“They’re not conspiring, they’re just discussing.  No harm in that”

“Um, every harm in that.  As in all of us, being harmed, because of that” He said, but you didn’t really seem to care what he thought about it.

“They’re fine, we’re all fine, don’t freak out so much mom” You said, walking out towards the kids and seeing them all circled up and discussing their big plan.

“I’m not a mom” Steve argued, and you chuckled, turning to see him, his dish rag on his shoulder, hands on hips.  It only made you laugh more.

“Mhm, alright.  Well then what would you call yourself?” You replied sarcastically, nodding towards his own stance, and making Steve second guess himself.

“This- you-! Alright whatever just stay away from the windows and go be safe somewhere” He muttered, walking into the living room where the kids were.  You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

Perhaps, you thought, King Steve was the king of something else now.

You watched as he was waving his rag at the kids again, yelling at them for plotting behind his back, and reminding them that no one was going anywhere.  But even as Dustin pouted, Steve was rubbing his hand over the thirteen year old’s head.  Almost soothingly, like he felt bad for ending their little meeting.

“What a mom” You mumbled, and headed back into the kitchen for something to eat.

You used to resent Steve, back when he was the king of school and didn’t care about anything more than he cared about his popularity and his hair.  Back when he didn’t give a shit about pretty much anything.  And looking at him now and seeing him watch over these kids, you could physically feel your heart swelling.  If that isn’t character development, you weren’t sure what was.

You weren’t sure why it made you feel so bubbly either.

“Listen runts, we’re staying here, we’re staying safe, and we’re not dying!” Steve said, for what felt like the fifth time.  But Mike kept arguing back at him.

“Everyone else is out there!”

“Everyone else knows how to fight all that shit!” Steve retorted.  “We are staying, here” He repeated slowly, waving his rag between each word.  “You got that?”

“You’re just saying that cause y/n’s here.  If she wasn’t here, we’d all be getting in your car and going!” Lucas spoke up.  Your brows furrowed at that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, ignoring your search for food and now strutting into the room where everyone else was.  “Am I dragging you down?” You asked, almost sarcastic, but wondering what he’d actually meant by his announcement.  Were you dragging them down?

“No, Steve would just protect your ass over our asses” Max shrugged, and the others nodded.

“What the hell? Everyone here is protecting their own asses, I’m not getting killed for a bunch of kids!” Steve said, making flustered and jerky movements.  You brushed off their newly sprung argument over where Steve’s bat is swinging and who it’s swinging for.

Apparently, The Party was certain that he’d die for you, rather die for them.  But you didn’t care much about what they thought.  They’d always thought that you and Steve were meant to be some power couple, but you supposed it was just cause you were the same age and the kids only ever saw you two together.  There was no real evidence (as far as they showed) towards the ‘chemistry’ you and Steve supposedly had.

You wandered to the window, curiously looking out it with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Will you just shut up?” Mike’s yelling made you jump a little, and you turned to see your friends all still arguing with each other.  You smiled slightly, meeting Steve’s eyes as he gave you a bored look.  You just laughed a little bit back at him.  Steve’s expression softened into a small smile.  Your face flushed with heat, and you nervously turned away from him to look back out the window again.

A light blinded you almost instantly, making you squint your eyes and put a hand over them to try and clear your vision.

“What the hell?” You muttered, leaning closer to the glass to see what was going on.  Headlights, there was a car here.  Someone was here.  “Steve?” You called, not turning away from the window.  He came over right away, looking outside to see a familiar Camaro parked in the driveway.

“Shit” He grumbled, walking towards the front door.

“What- where are you going? Who is it?” You asked, following quickly after him, but Steve quickly turned to make you stay back.

“Just stay in here-”

“Sinclair!” A voice hollered from outside, and you jumped, eyes widening as you recognized it.  “I know you’re in there!”

“Billy?” You whispered to Steve, who nodded.  You stepped backwards, eyes never leaving Steve’s.  “What’s he doing here?” Your voice was quiet.

Billy Hargrove, was the most vile, horrible person you’d ever met.  And his wicked ways of bending people to his will, shook you intensely to your core.  It was no secret to the others that Billy not only terrified you, but would seductively torture you every day.  Sure, you’d been picked on before, but this was different.  Every day he’d come to you, hoping to get something out of you, just to mess with you.

“Come on babe, a little kiss, just a little one, we can discuss the rest later”

“You don’t want to get a ride home with me and have some fun?”

“When’re you finally gonna give this up and just put out?”

You shuddered slightly, practically feeling his hot breath against your skin just thinking about the things he’s said to you.  Stopping you in the hallways, finding you at your locker, approaching you while you waited at Steve’s car for a ride home.

“I know you’re in there you little pig! Come out here or I’ll have to go in!” His voice was dangerous, threatening.  And you felt a legitimate fear for your life, and the kids’.

“It’s fine, you’re fine, I promise” Steve said quietly, out of earshot of the others.  “All of you stay here, stay away from the windows” He ordered, giving you one last look before you turned and went to The Party.  They needed you right now, all huddled around Lucas and Max to make sure if Billy were to look inside, he wouldn’t see them.

“Come on guys” You said softly, ushering them as far away from the window as you could.  Steve, on the other hand, opened the door and stepped outside.

Instead of hiding in a room, completely out of sight of the maniac, you all ducked under the windowsill to see what was happening.

“Am I dreaming or is that really you Harrington?” You felt your entire body quivering upon hearing Billy’s voice.  Dustin, who was crouched next to you, turned and gave you a worried look, but your eyes were dead set on the outside.

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants” Steve responded, walking out towards him as he pulled off his leather jacket.

“What’re you doing here amigo?” Billy asked, the cigarette hanging off his lips moving as he spoke.

“I could ask you the same thing” Steve responded, void of emotion.  “Amigo”

“Lookin’ for my step sister.  Little birdie told me she was here”

“Huh, that’s weird I don’t know her” Steve lied easily, and convincingly.  You prayed to God that Billy believed him.

“Small? Redhead?” Billy replied disbelievingly.  “Bit of a bitch?”

“Ashole” Max muttered to herself inside.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry buddy” Steve replied, still not sounding like he cared even an inkling.  Billy nodded, taking out his cigarette.

“You know… I don’t how this, this whole situation Harrington is um.., it’s giving me the heebie jeebies” Billy said, looking at Steve a little more threateningly.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you” Billy pointed accusatory hands towards Steve, giving him a disgusted look.  “In a strangers house” He continued.  “And you lie to me about it” Steve chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and looking away for a moment.

“Yeah, maybe you were dropped too much as a child or what” Steve said snarkily.  But Billy just grinned his twisted grin and licked his tongue over the front of his teeth.  “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said”

You felt a chill go down your spine as Steve’s protectiveness took over his tone.  Dustin beside you mumbling a quiet, “Holy shit”

“She’s not here” Steve said carefully.  Billy nodded, looking pointedly towards the window where you and The Party were all huddled and looking out of.

“Then who’s that?” He asked, pointing his cigarette towards his sister.

“Down!” You hissed, and the five of you dropped to the floor so fast you all groaned from the impact of the floor.

“Shit!” Dustin cursed.  “Did he see us?”

“Oh shit” Steve grumbled.  “Okay listen-” Billy pushed him to the ground before he could explain anything.  The boy kicked him, before storming up into the house.

“Well well well” Billy smirked, seeing you and The Party standing there together, you in front of all of them.  “y/n l/n, what a lovely little surprise” You grimaced, but he didn’t seem to care.  “And Lucas Sinclair, not so much a surprise at all” You moved over more in front of Lucas, who’s hands grabbed onto your arm out of fear.  “I thought I told you to stay away from him Max”

“Billy, go away” Max retorted, but her voice wavered.

“You disobeyed me” Billy leaned over his step sister tauntingly.  “And you know what happens when you disobey me” He added in a hushed, volatile voice.

“Billy-”

“I break things” He uttered, before pushing you aside, crashing your body into the wall.  Before slamming Lucas up against the cupboards.

“Billy stop!” Max and the others began to yell, Dustin rushing over to help you up, but you were already standing up on your own.

“Get off of me!” Lucas cried.

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me, maybe you will” Billy muttered.  “You stay away from her.  Stay-! Away from her” He yelled awkwardly.  “Do you hear me?”

“I said get off me!” Lucas screamed again, followed by a knee between Billy’s legs.  You gasped, feeling a moment of pride as Billy stumbled back and released him.

“You are so dead Sinclair!” Billy hollered.  “You’re dead-”

“No” Steve grabbed Billy by the shoulder, spinning him around roughly.  “You are” And with that he swung his fist and planted it hard enough against Billy’s jaw to make him topple over.

“Steve!” You yelped out of surprise.  He looked at you for a moment, nodding in reassurance as he shook out his hand.  It’d been a while since he’d hit anybody.  Billy stood back up, laughing menacingly.  “You’re a fucking psycho!” You screeched before you could stop yourself.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all huh!?” He yelled at Steve.  “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about” He stepped closer to Steve, glaring at him.

“Get out” Steve muttered, pushing Billy’s chest lightly to move him away from him.  Billy stepped back and stood there for a moment.  And after a few seconds passed you were certain that he was going to stay back.

Until he swung swiftly at Steve, but missed as Steve ducked just in time.  You gasped, clapping your hands over your mouth in terror.  Steve stood back up and swung his fist again, hitting Billy and making him stumble again.

“Yes! Get him Steve!” Dustin cheered, and the others began to as well.  You couldn’t find yourself to say anything, just wince every time a punch was made.  Steve hit him two more times, and Billy ran into the kitchen sink.  Leaning back and wincing in pain.

“Kill him! Kill him!” Mike was yelling.  But Billy grabbed a plate of the counter, smashing it over Steve’s head, and making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You screamed now, taking long strides to get over to him, only to be pushed away by Billy.  Who hit Steve as soon as he stood up again.  He grabbed Steve by the shoulders, staring him down.

“No one.  Tells me what to do” He muttered angrily, and threw his head forward hard into Steve’s knocking him down again.

“Fucking hell” You mumbled, tears beginning to prick your eyes in fear that Billy was actually going to kill Steve.  The mullet wearing psycho leapt onto Steve, pinning him down and swinging punch after punch against his face.

“Stop it!” Mike yelled at the top of his lungs, but it did nothing to end Billy’s attack.

“Steve!” Dustin hollered.

You stood frozen, every scene in front of you soundless, and moving slowly.  You could only feel your heart in your chest, sending you into an anxiety attack, you were sure.  But it barely mattered to you in that moment.  You turned away, and your eyes landed on something.

The syringe used on Will earlier.

Sleep… put him to sleep… your thoughts were broken as you reached for it, looking at it in your hands for a few seconds, before stepping forward and slamming the needle into Billy’s neck without a hesitation.  Mike and Dustin gasped, standing back.  Everyone’s eyes stuck on the syringe hanging out of BIlly’s neck now.  A disgust filling them up at the sight.

“Shit y/n” Dustin mumbled, his hand covering his mouth to stop vomit from flowing.

Billy stood up, wobbling slightly as he turned to look at you.  He pulled the needle out of his neck, vision beginning to fail.  “The hell is this?” He asked, trying to step towards you threateningly, but he was wobbling so much you didn’t even move.  No longer afraid of him.

“You’re fucking done Hargrove” You muttered, and before thinking twice to second guess yourself, punching him across the jaw, and sending him back on his ass.  Billy groaned, staying down where he’d fallen against the couch.

“Shit what did you do” He mumbled, growing dizzy from the mix of drug and pain.

A few moments later he completely passed out.

“Fuck” You hissed in pain, putting your bruising knuckles against your mouth.  You didn’t think punching someone would hurt so damn much.

“y/n holy shit”

“Are you okay?”

“That was badass!”

The Party was fussing and cheering for you, but you didn’t respond, kneeling down by Steve next and counting up all the cuts and bruises he was beginning to sport.  He was unconscious, that was for sure.  But he’d be in for a world of hurt when he woke up.

“Come on, help me get him back to Jon’s bed” You called to the kids.

It was difficult moving him, but after ten minutes you’d managed to get him into Jonathan’s room to lie on the bed there.  You were sat next to him, a cold wet rag in your hand, and the open first aid kit on the ground.  It took you awhile to clean off all the blood and apply bandages where you thought they were necessary.  There was a frozen bag of peas you’d put over one of his eyes to stop the swelling, but so far it still looked pretty bad.

The Party had sat with you for what felt like a long time before you told them to go back to the living room and wait for the others to return home.  Dustin put up a small fight about it, but eventually gave in and listened to your order.  And now it was just you kneeling on the ground by Steve, watching over him carefully.  Making sure he was breathing okay, and that nothing would begin to bleed again.

“Well King Steve, you got quite the ass kicking” You mumbled, just to yourself.  Your fingers placed a few stray hairs on his forehead back into place.  “But your crown is still there” You smiled to yourself, fingertips gently brushing his hair.

“y/n?” Your eyes looked back at him as he mumbled, almost incoherently.  “What happened?” The poor boy’s eyes weren’t even open.

“You put up a really good fight” You told him softly.  He winced, the pain probably beginning to settle in.

“Did I win?” He groaned, eyes clenching shut momentarily.  You bit down on your lip and shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“You put up a really good fight” You repeated yourself, playing with his hair again.  Steve sighed, knowing the answer.

“Is he gone?” He asked, eyes finally beginning to flutter open.

“Yeah… yeah he won’t be back any time soon, I’m sure” You answered.  Steve looked up at you, smiling down gently at him.  He smiled back instantly, and moved his arm to push your hair back, but even at it’s slight movement you winced in pain.  “You’re in pretty bad shape” You told him quietly.  “But you’ll heal up alright”

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine” You shrugged slightly.  “We’re all really worried about you.  Dustin thought you were dead” Steve chuckled painfully, shaking his head a little bit.

“Are they alright? Max and Lucas?”

“Yeah, we’re all good Steve” You hummed with a slight nod.  You leaned forward, a little closer to him to check on the eye swelled under the bag of peas.  You frowned, seeing the black and blue bruise that only seemed to be spreading.

“I’m alright, don’t fuss so much” Steve said, putting his hand over the bag and pushing it back against his face.  Your eyes met his for a moment.

“You’re pretty bruised up Harrington” You sighed, taking the wet rag in your hand and dabbing it gently on his bruised cheek.  “There’s not an inch of your face spared”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll heal up”

“Years from now, maybe” You replied sarcastically, and he smiled at you while you carefully pressed the cold cloth to his face.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He murmured, and you looked at him for the briefest of seconds before going back to work.  Now is not the time to talk about feelings, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah? Go play hero some more and you’ll never see anything again” You told him, and he shrugged slightly, not having a response to that.

“I just wanted to remind you.  In case you haven’t been told in a while” He said.  You bit on the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too much.  You looked down at him, your eyes softening slightly.

You leaned over closer to him, pausing for a moment before pressing your lips lightly against his.  It was a chaste kiss, only lasting a few seconds as you didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already was.  When you pulled back, you smiled nervously at him, and he only smiled back at you.

“You’re lucky you didn’t die Harrington” You said, and got right back to work on pressing the rag to his wounds.

“That I am” He replied cheekily.

You giggled softly, smiling down at him and wondering just when he’d changed so much.

You knew he’d give his life for these kids too, just like you would.

love me some babysitter steve

xoxo ~ jordie