#front cover of plague magazine

[scariercnidaria]

y1k fashion kinda went crazy

[revasserium]

burn

umemiya hajime; 3,307 words; mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, young/freshman!umemiya, pre-canon events, lapslock, no "y/n", librarian!reader, childhood friends to lovers, vague ref to ch. 152, ume is a dumbdumb

summary: "it's a pleasure to burn" - ray bradbury, fahrenheit 451

a/n: am i writing umemiya now? who knows. this takes place 2 years before wbk manga events (the first year ume&co are in boufuurin) so pls excuse the slightly ooc ume...

001. the art of war

the library is entirely your idea.

“mah… you’d have to be the one to keep track of all the books though,” umemiya says, grinning as he watches you stock the shelves, your hair twisted up into a messy bun, your arm straining to reach the top-most shelf with a bundle of paperbacks with fraying covers and broken-in spines.

“of course i would! it’s not like there’s anyone else here i’d trust with that.” you turn to fix him with a stare that is already too “librarian-like” and he laughs, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

“okay then, consider me your first patron! gimme something to read,” umemiya says, smiling wide as you narrow your eyes. your lips twitch up at the ends — it’s a familiar movement, an unconscious gesture, but one that’s plagued his all sleepless nights and most of his endless days.

“well…” you say, drawing out the word as you slowly saunter towards him, propping your hands on your hips as you pull level with the table in front of him, “what do you want to read?”

“anything you’d wanna lend me,” he says easily.

“boo, that’s such a boring answer,” you shoot back, shifting to press your hip against the edge of the table, crossing your arms as you turn to look back at the half-erected shelves.

you don’t see the way umemiya’s eyes flicker down to the bend of your waist, or the way he licks his lips as he tracks the plush of your thigh as you move to hoist yourself onto the desk, balancing on the edge.

he swallows, clearing his throat, trying not to think about the strange, burgeoning signs of growing up pestering you both at this vital juncture (just last week, his voice had cracked so hard you’d laughed at him for a whole hour straight; and the week before that, he’d almost rammed into a telephone poll watching you jog down the flight of stairs that leads to your tiny apartment).

“then maybe reading a few books will make me not so boring, hm?”

you roll your eyes, hopping off the table to comb through the handful of books. umemiya lets out an internal sigh of relief, feeling the heat in his cheeks recede ever so slightly as you disappear behind one of the taller shelves.

“here. let’s start with this.”

you pop out from behind the shelf, lobbing a thin volume towards him; he catches it out of reflex and stares at the cover.

“the art of war…?”

you grin, all cheek and no shame, “yeah. i mean… fits, doesn’t it? aren’t you starting at boufuurin next week?” you blink before turning back to look around at the small, abandoned storage facility, tucked between a ramen shop and what used to be a dollar store. there’s half a dozen dusty shelves, a few cabinets along the walls, and even a small stepladder that touma had dug out of the back closet for you.

at fifteen, you’re probably the smartest person he knows (and the prettiest, but that’s neither here nor there); at fifteen, umemiya hajime is an iron-wrought confluence of teenage ambition with big ideas and even bigger dreams (who doesn’t have time for things like crushes or girls… really).

“yeah,” umemiya runs a finger along the cover of the little book and flips to a random page, his eyes catching on the line —

the greatest victory is that which requires no battle at all.

002. pedro reyes

three weeks later, he stumbles back with two black eyes and a matching pair of bleeding knuckles.

“that book you lent me?” he says, dropping into a chair with a groan, “kinda bullshit.”

you make a half-startled, half-annoyed noise as you hurry over, setting down an armful of magazines to lean over and look at his face.

“what the hell happened?”

umemiya winces as you reach out to wipe a trickle of blood from his cheek.

“couple of fights — tough ones, but… well, i’m still here, aren’t i?” he says, managing a lopsided grin even as you tut, hurrying away to grab a first aid kit, returning with a warm, wet cloth and a scowl on your face.

“i thought you had a plan,” you say, unable to keep the acid from your voice.

umemiya groans as you press the damp cloth to his bloodied fingers, watching as you wipe each one down, the shocking white of the towel slowly darkening until it’s stained and blotchy with red.

“yeah. i did — punch everyone out till i get to the top.”

you tsk, frown deepening even as he shifts forward to let you wipe at the wounds on his face.

“pretty sure that’s not what sun tzu suggests,” you say, dabbing some kind of cooling gel to a cut right below his eye.

“sun tzu’s never had to deal with the guys at boufuurin.”

you roll your eyes, sighing before pulling back, “there’s an article i read today —” you jerk your head back towards the stack of magazines, “about an artist in mexico.”

“yeah?”

umemiya closes his eyes and lets you do the slow, diligent work of bandaging up his knuckles, one by one.

“he took a bunch of illegal weapons the government had confiscated and melted them down — pistols, knives, shotguns — and made them into musical instruments instead.”

the quiet that follows is thick and steady as churned butter. you don’t look up, your eyes still trained on the careful task of bandaging umemiya’s fingers.

he shifts, pulling closer, his breath fanning out warm against your cheek.

“do you know how hot a fire has to be in order to melt metal?” you ask after another brief silence, finally lifting your eyes as you finish with his hands.

umemiya cocks an eyebrow, “how hot?”

“about 2,700 degrees, fahrenheit.”

umemiya whistles below his breath, “sounds hot.”

“it is. at that temperature, you can apparently force a weapon to forget that it’s a weapon, to remake it into something new — something that wasn’t made to take lives… but to give it instead.”

you wrap your fingers around his, your skin contrasted against the dark blossom of bruises.

umemiya feels his smile slash into something jagged, lopsided and sharp.

“then… i guess that’s how hot i’ll have to burn to turn this whole place around.”

003. grey’s anatomy

looking back, umemiya wonders if that’s the night he changed — the night that you’d held onto his hands as if they were something precious.

he looks up the melting point of metal and the story of the artist in mexico. he thinks about what it must feel like to turn a pistol into a flute, to be the one to teach it to hold a note instead of a bullet —

he stares down at his bandaged hands, feels the dull ache in his muscles and wonders.

once, he remembers when the pair of you were still kids, hollow and lonely and full of a childish rage at the indifferent world — how you’d laughed as he pushed you on a neighborhood swing, but cried when he knocked a guy’s front teeth our for asking where your parents were.

and a week later, he’d found you hidden under the jungle gym with a tomb of a book clutched in your hands. the air had been damp with thunder, the sky grey and electric.

you’d looked up at him with bright eyes, holding out a closed fist —

“ume! did you know that the human heart is the same size as a fist?”

he remembers crawling under the jungle gym to squeeze in beside you, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, peering at the opened book, at the page with a diagram of the human body an all it’s labeled parts.

“oh, cool.”

he’d held up his own fist then, and stared, feeling the beat of his heart reverberating through his chest. he wonders if you can hear it when you’re pressed this close; he wonders, if the sky weren’t breaking apart above you, if he’d be able to hear your heartbeats too.

“isn’t it strange?” you’d asked, leaning over to bump your fist against his.

“what’s strange?” he hadn’t pulled away; neither had you.

your hand relaxes then, fingers loosening till he can see the blood rush back into their tips, tinting them pink. you’d turned your hand and placed it over his still-closed one and squeezed.

“that… a heart and a fist are the same size but… they weren’t made to beat the same.”

004. romeo & juliet

“he loves you, y’know.”

you look up from the makeshift front desk.

tsubaki is sitting with their legs crossed on one of the tables, arms propped on either side of their hips.

“library’s not open for another few days,” you say by way of an answer.

“it’s nice,” tsubaki says, looking around, “you did a good job with it.”

“thanks.”

they hop off the table to peer down one of the aisles of books — all the shelves now labeled with your loopy handwriting, the books clustered by a loose combination of genre, authorship, and spine-coloration.

“it’ll be good for us,” tsubaki’s voice is slightly muted by the layers and layers of books, but the click of their heeled boots rings sharp against the smooth linoleum floors, “having a library — the pen being mightier than the sword, and all.”

they’re smiling when they finally come back around the last row, fingers linked behind their back.

“that’s the hope, anyway,” you say, lips pulling into a wane smile.

you glance up and your eyes catch on the bandage at the edge of tsubaki’s lips, the dark stain at the collar of their otherwise impeccable uniform.

sighing, you run a hand along a yet-unsorted stack of books, shaking your head.

“we’re too young to know anything about love,” you answer, finally.

tsubaki joins you, bending down to pick up the first book at the top of the pile, waving it in the air with a rueful grin.

“i think romeo & juliet would beg to differ.”

you bite your lips, “you know that’s a tragedy, right?”

tsubaki shrugs, “sure, but… wasn’t it beautiful while it lasted anyway?”

you don’t have an answer, and instead, tsubaki giggles, tapping the top of your head with the book.

“can i borrow this? i promise i’ll return it!”

you wave them away with a soft smile.

“that’s kind of how a library works.”

005. fight club

“how long have you been here?”

you jerk up, your entire body screaming with the movement after having been still for so long.

“ume —! you’re awake!” you nearly collapse by the hospital bedside, dropping your head into the pristine white sheets.

above you, umemiya makes a choked off sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, his hand coming up to pat your head. you melt into the feel of him, the weight and warmth of his fingers as he treads them through your hair.

“where’s —”

“they left — all of them,” you say, lifting your head slowly, “takishii and endo and… all of them.”

umemiya frowns, his hand stilling for a second, “what do you mean?”

you shrug, pulling back till you’re curled up in the bedside seat once more, tugging your knees up into your chest.

“after the fight, they just… picked up and left.”

“so… i lost,” umemiya’s voice is soft.

you shake your head, “no.”

he frowns, “but that’s —”

“you knocked each other out at the same time — it was technically —” your voice snags in your throat as you remember the grizzly scene before you, the crimson sprays of blood, the dirt damp beneath them, their uniforms torn into dark ribbons, the rooftop howling with a savage, winter wind.

“a tie,” umemiya says in a flatlined voice, reaching up and covering his eyes with his arm.

“right.”

you clear your throat, reaching for the tall glass of water on the bedside table.

“here — drink,” you hold the water out to him. he takes it wordlessly and drains nearly the entire glass. you watch, silent, as a drop of liquid trails down his jaw and trickles into the bandages at this throat.

your eyes cut away as he grins, smacking his lips and setting the water glass down.

“ah — that feels much better!”

you’re quiet, sitting vulturine still, refusing to meet his gaze.

umemiya finally slumps back to stare at the ceiling.

“you’re mad at me.”

“i’m not.”

“we’e known each other our whole lives, i know when you’re mad —”

“i’m scared, okay?” there’s a thin, unsteady quiver to the tenor of your voice as your head snaps back up. it’s then that he notices your fingers curled into fists at your sides.

“s-scared? of what? takiishi and endo are gone — you said so your—”

“of you!”

umemiya blinks and feels the blood in his extremities going cold, and for a second, he’s not sure if he accidentally dislodged his iv drip.

the look on your face is inscrutable, anger and uncertainty, but most of all — fear. something about that look makes his stomach curdle inside him.

“i —” he tries to find something to say but nothing else comes out. there’s no excuse, no explanation. he searches you eyes for a tether, for a spark of that familiar warmth and finds none.

slowly, you soften back into the seat and turn to stare out the window.

“it’s not like i’ve never seen you fight… and i’ve never liked it but this…” you bite down on your bottom lip, “it was like… you turned into someone else. someone i didn’t recognize.”

“i’m… i’m sorry.”

you swallow, still not looking at him, your eyes flickering down to your own hands, now lying limply in your lap.

“and then i thought — what if i did this? i — i had to go and make that stupid metaphor about the metal and the melting and —”

at this, umemiya laughs, reaching out to tug you closer. the ease with which he does so startles a hiccup out of you.

“you don’t really think i went and fought like that because of an article about a dude in mexico, do you?”

you purse your lips, cheeks going blotchy with heat. umemiya reaches forward to squeeze your nose, making you jerk back.

“dummy,” he chides, grinning now from ear to ear, but his smile falters slightly as he takes your hands in his, “i’m sorry that i scared you. promise i won’t do it again.”

“hn.” you don’t make to pull away, and umemiya takes that as permission to tug you into his chest, wrapping both arms around you. he buries his face in your hair and breathes in, out, in —

“hm… you really think you have that much power over me?” umemiya asks, a wanton sort of amusement underlying his voice as he finally lets you go, if only to revel in the way your cheeks flood with color.

“shut up! i was — i was freaked out and you were unconscious and i —”

“cause you do.”

your words cut off as abruptly as a dropped call.

umemiya chuckles, scratching at the back of his head, ruffling up his already pillow-mussed hair.

“been meaning to tell you but… i figured you already knew — “ and for once, he sounds his age — young and halting and shy.

after a breath that feels like a century, you finally break into a helpless fit of laughter.

“i can’t believe it…” you say, burying your face in your hands.

“can’t… believe what?” umemiya blinks at you.

“that it took you nearly dying for you to admit that you liked me.”

“hey! in case you haven’t noticed, i’ve been kinda busy this year!”

you roll your eyes, “yeah, yeah — had to go save the world first. then you get to kiss the girl, right? end movie, roll credits.”

umemiya cocks his head, “well, i dunno about the world but definitely — wait, what did you say about kissing me?”

you crinkle your nose, “i didn’t.”

“yeah you did.”

“i did not — i was just making a general statement about cliches in superhero movies —”

“oh, so you think i’m a superhero?”

“ume! stop it — mph!”

later, umemiya would recall fondly to anyone who will listen that yeah, he does get to kiss the girl after all.

006. fahrenheit 451

“451,” you say, standing at the door of the newly minted makochi library.

it’s dark outside, and umemiya stands by your side, stretching his arms over his head with a wide yawn.

“huh?”

“451 degrees,” you say again, turning to press a small silver lighter into his hands. he stares owlishly at it before looking back at you, clearly at a loss.

“that’s how hot it has to be for paper to catch fire.”

umemiya stares.

“i was thinking,” you say, turning back to the dark, but pristine library.

“uh-oh — oof — ow!” umemiya makes a show of clutching his side as you jerk your elbow back for another blow. he dodges out of your way with a dopey grin.

you sigh, turning back to the library, “but i was thinking that… there’s gotta be a better way — an easier way, right?”

this time, he stays quiet to let you speak.

“because yeah, it’d be nice to melt all the weapons in the world and turn them all into nicer things but… there’s a better way to do things.”

“yeah? and what’s that?” umemiya turns the lighter around and around in his palm.

you turn and head for the door, locking it behind you. the moonlight washes your skin in a ghostly silver as you turn to face him.

“we rewrite the story,” you say.

umemiya flicks on the lighter and lets the fire dance between them. his breath catches on the liquid gold in your eyes.

“is… that even possible?” he asks.

you reach out a steady hand, letting the tips of your fingers barely skim over the shifting flame.

“sure it is. all of human history is just a story written by the victors. and… 451 degrees isn’t nearly as hot as 2,700.”

umemiya smiles then, letting the lid of the lighter click shut. the fire snuffs out, leaving only a thin trail of spiraling smoke behind.

“sounds a lot more reasonable, too. much less scary,” he says.

you laugh, turning towards the main street. he watches you go for a second before pocketing the lighter and making to catch up. when he levels himself with you, he reaches out to take your hand.

“fires don’t have to be scary,” you say, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “for most of human history… it’s brought people together — over a hot meal or a good story. a lot of the time… it’s the only reason we get to survive.”

umemiya pulls you in to loop his arm around your shoulder.

“hm. i like the sound of that way, way better.”

bonus:

“so… just makin’ sure — you don’t want me to burn down the new library you spent all this time setting up, right?”

“no you dumbass! it was just a metaphor.”

“oh. right — yeah, a metaphor, duh.”

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

Just A Little Taste*

pairing: masseuse harry x reader

warnings: smut, oral(female receiving), swearing

~

Walking into the front door of the massage parlour, YN is greeted by the smell of flowers and essential oils as she proceeds further into the building. Everything around her is white and organized, not a single thing stained or out of place. She’s a little afraid to walk on the clean, shiny floor, not wanting to scuff it up or get it dirty.

Her hands are shaky with nerves as she makes her way to the front desk to see where she needs to go. The older woman, whose name tag reads Jessica, greets her with a bright smile.

“Hello, welcome! What can I do for you today?” she asks, her white manicured nails tapping against the counter lightly to the rhythm of some sort of elevator music that is playing in the lobby.

“Hi, I have an appointment for 2:30. My name is YN YLN,” she greets back, wringing her hands together as she awaits further instruction.

Jessica nods and turns to her computer, typing away until she nods and hums in recognition. “Alright, I see you on the list. I’m going to go ahead and get you checked in and then you can take a seat over there on one of our couches. Someone will be out very shortly to escort you, and I hope you enjoy your time,” she explains, YN thanking her with a smile before walking away.

She takes a seat on the empty couch, and it’s so soft she could fall asleep right then and there. Trying to stay awake, she decides to grab a magazine from the large stack beside her. Getting the first one, she opens it up, seeing that the main article is about chakras and the importance of female orgasms. Her entire neck and face heat up, but she’s unable to put it down, genuinely intrigued by the words on the page.

There are masturbation tips, best sex positions for orgasm, and even sex you coupons. She takes one out and slips it into her purse, ready to put it to good use later. Not long afterwards, a woman steps out from a hallway and heads over to her with a blinding, gorgeous smile on her face.

“Hello, YN. I’m Emma, and I’ll be escorting you to your private room if that’s alright with you,” she says, and YN is greeting her before gathering her belongings and standing up to follow the energetic woman.

The two make polite conversation as they walk down a long white hallway lined with rooms until they get to the very end, into a room that looks like a fancy suite.

On the way into the room, her steps falter as she reads the name on the door. ‘Harry Styles’. There’s no way she booked a man, is there? Thinking back to what she booked, she hangs her head in frustration as she realizes it said ‘H. Styles’.

Interrupting her thoughts, Emma gives her another bright smile. “Well, this is it. All you have to do is undress completely and place the towel over your backside. Mr. Styles should be in shortly, I hope you enjoy,” she exclaims, leaving behind one last blinding smile before she’s leaving and giving YN the privacy she needs. A sigh leaves her lips as the door clicks shut.

This can’t be real life she thinks as she undresses shakily, grabbing the soft towel from the table and lying down on it, placing it over her body.

~

YN is lying face down on the massage table in the freezing cold room, shivering with just a fluffy white towel covering her backend. Nerves fill her body with each inhale, her heart hammering inside her chest.

As she tries to calm herself down, she runs her fingers over the leather of the table, the slight scratching acting as a distraction. She’s especially nervous because she’s never gotten a full body deep tissue massage, and the fact that she’d accidentally booked a male was plaguing her mind. She decides to close her eyes and relax against the table, trying to clear her mind.

No later than a minute after she closes her eyes, her body tensing up once more as she hears the door slide open and her nose is filled with the scent of cologne. It isn’t too strong, but it isn’t too faint either. The scent makes her body visibly relax, and she hears a deep chuckle from across the room.

“Y’like the cologne, eh?” the smooth voice speaks from behind her. YN literally almost moans out loud at the deep timbre, his accent mixed with the cologne making her head spin. She nods against the table and subtly -or so she thinks- squeezes her thighs together, trying to prevent a lot of wetness from forming between them. It’s pathetic, really, how she’s instantly at this man’s mercy and she hasn’t even seen his fucking face.

What she doesn’t know is that Harry was floored the second he entered the room and saw her lying there. He doesn’t know what it is about her, but there’s something so enthralling that makes him unable to take his eyes off of her. And when he saw her clench her thighs together at his voice, it stroked his ego so well and he had to refrain from pounding her into the table right then and there.

He walks around to the end of the table, his eyes on the swell of her ass. Heat bubbles deep in his belly as he sees that she doesn’t have the towel on correctly, giving him a glimpse of her bare ass and vagina.

Before he makes a decision he’s going to regret, he plucks the towel down a bit to cover her up and clears his throat.

“So, I’m Harry, and I’ll be your masseuse today. What brings you in, darling?” he asks, preparing his cart with all of his oil.

YN’s eyes nearly roll back into her head at the pet name, words escaping her for a moment before she’s finally processing his words.

“Well, um, I’ve been really stressed lately, and tense all over. My friend could tell I was having a rough time, so she suggested I go and get a massage, so that’s how I ended up here,” she responds shakily, trying to keep her voice level.

“Ah, I see,” he hums, popping the cap on the oil. “Are there any places you want me to focus on specifically? I’m going to work on all of the tense places I can feel, but if you feel that there are any places that need special attention, just let me know now,” he speaks, pouring some of the slightly warm liquid into his hand.

“The only places that have been bothering me are my lower back and my thighs,” she responds and Harry nods even though she can’t see him, rubbing his hands together.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Is it okay for me to start?” he questions, and she nods her head. “I need your words, darling. Consent is key,” he teases.

“Yes, you can start. Sorry,” she corrects herself, embarrassment flooding her mind.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his hands into her lower back and massaging there. The combination of his praise and his fingers have her moaning out loud, her body relaxing. “Y’like that, hm? I bet, it’s real tense right in here,” he grunts, digging in a bit harder.

He takes his time and works out each knot in her lower back, seeing her relax with each press of his fingers. When he’s done, he moves to the centre of her back, repeating his actions.

“You’re so tense,” he says, rubbing out each knot in the centre of her back before doing her neck and shoulders, ready to move down to her thighs.

Getting a bit more oil, he rubs it in before moving down further, placing his hands on her thighs and starting to rub gently. By the time he’s done, he doesn’t even need to squint his eyes to see the wetness glistening i’m front of him.

“I’m also sensing some tension right in here,” he murmurs, lightly rubbing over her ass. “Is it okay if I continue?” he asks, getting permission from her.

He spreads her ass cheeks open a bit to get some oil all over, a moan bubbling in his chest as the action separates her folds, a string of wetness connecting them. All he wants to do is lick between them, just a little taste. And he, not being one to shy away from an opportunity, asks her if he can.

“Can I taste you?” he asks bluntly, hearing a gasp leave her lips.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, taken aback by his words. There’s no way he just said that, right? To her?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous and I’d really like to eat y’pussy. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he answers, letting go of her ass cheeks and letting them fall back together.

A moan leaves her lips at how blunt he is, nodding her head. “Fuck, please do,” she answers, and he wastes absolutely no time before he’s spreading her ass cheeks once more and diving in. He licks a bold stripe up her dripping folds, moaning at the taste of her. Her puckered hole is right in front of his face, but he leaves it alone, not knowing if she’s comfortable with that.

Pulling away, he licks his lips as he basks in the taste of her on his face. His cock is rock hard and he’s give anything to fuck her, but he needs her to cum first.

“Can you get on y’back for me, please?” he rasps, desperate to see all of her. She nods and flips over, and Harry’s cock is twitching violently and leaking precum at the sight of her perfect breasts, and her legs open wide, waiting for him. Trailing his eyes down further, his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head as he sees a bit of hair residing on her pubic area, and he can’t resist reaching up to touch the coarse hair.

He wants so badly to see his cum paint the little hairs white, but that’ll have to wait for another time. Getting into position, he places her legs on his shoulders before instantly mouthing at her again, sucking gently on her clit. Her whines and moans spur him on, and when she starts to grind against his face, he looks up her body to watch her movements.

Seeing her hands playing with her nipples, he shakes his head against her slightly before reaching upward and moving them out of the way, taking over. He pinches them lightly between his fingers, tweaking them slightly. The action mixed with his mouth working wonders between her legs as her back arching and her hands holding onto either side of the table, her grip tight.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum,” she warns, her voice getting higher in pitch with each swipe of his tongue. He groans into her at her words, hoping it’ll get her there faster, and it does. At the feeling of his voice vibrating through her body, she’s tensing up and her orgasm is flooding his mouth. He drinks down ever drop, savouring the taste of her. When she whimpers in overstimulation, he’s pulling back slowly and hesitantly, still wanting to taste her.

He rubs up and down her bare sides, helping her come down from her orgasm with his gentle touch. The second she comes down, she’s letting out a breathy laugh, making Harry look at her in confusion.

“If I get treated like that every time, I’ll definitely be coming back soon,” she explains, making Harry let out a loud belly laugh at her adorableness.

“You will, just ask for Harry when you book the appointment,” he says cheekily, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. She deepens it before she’s whimpering against his lips at the taste of herself. She grinds against her gently and bites down onto her lip, but not hard enough to hurt.

Pulling away, YN reaches for the waistband of his pants, looking to him for permission.

~

[topguncortez]

A Little bit of Science | Over the Rainbow Series

previous part | Masterlist | Next Part

Dragon & Rooster Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

✧ synopsis: The Bradshaws decide to take the next step into becoming parents.

✧ word count: 1.2k

✧ warnings: pregnancy, IVF, medical jargon, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of stillbirth, PTSD

When Rooster and Dragon first started their journey into parenthood, they didn’t mind that it was taking longer to get pregnant. Their careers were both taking off since becoming a permanent fixture on North Island. Dragon was taking all the missions that fell into her lap, and Rooster was enjoying his time teaching future TopGun pilots. Rooster was proud that she had gotten promoted to Lieutenant Commander, and was one of the front runners for captain. He was right behind her, getting promoted about a month after. 

But now their careers were starting to settle out a bit, and their friends were focusing on having families. Dragon and Rooster decided to start on their own, but were met with harsh roadblocks that neither one thought would happen. Rooster at first, thought it was something wrong with him. But after numerous doctors appointments and tests, it had been determined to be another cause of PCOS, something Dragon had been plagued with from a young age. 

Dragon’s leg bounced relentlessly as Rooster sat in the chair beside the exam table, as calm and cool as ever. He flipped through some parenting magazine, occasionally letting out a hum of interest. Dragon hated how calm he was during these appointments. She hated his ability to just sit back and read magazines or play Candy Crush on his phone while they waited. But he wasn’t the one being shot up with needles and having to lay back and spread his legs. Dragon rolled her eyes as Rooster let out another “hmm” and flipped the page. 

“You’re too calm,” Dragon said. 

“And you’re too nervous,” Rooster said, closing the magazine and leaning over to look at his wife, “I can feel it honey, this is our time.” 

“And what if it isn’t?” She asked, looking down at the thin paper covering that hid her exposed lower half. She wore the same itchy paper gown like always. Rooster folded her clothing neatly and put it in the seat beside him. They had gotten good at this, and created a sort of system so Dragon didn’t feel too exposed while getting ready for her doctor, “What if it doesn’t take?” 

“What if they do take?” Rooster said and Dragon rolled her eyes again. 

“This is our 3rd round, Bradley,” Rooster grabbed her hand, and squeezed it. When they started their IVF journey, they were grossly misinformed on how hard it was going to be. Their very first round had ended in a failed transfer due to a cyst on Dragon’s ovary. The second transfer had been successful, but ended in a stillbirth at 24 weeks. Now, they were trying for a third time, hoping that Doctor Miracle lived up to her name. 

“I don’t have that many eggs left, and I don’t think I can stand going through all this again to get nothing,” Tears started to spring into her eyes and Rooster moved quickly to wipe them away. 

“Hey, hey,” Rooster said, “We have other options, okay.” 

Dragon looked down at their conjoined hands and let the silent tears fall down her face. Another thing that they don’t talk about with IVF, is the fear after failure. Dragon, so badly, wanted to try again, but fear had taken over her body. Rooster did his best to try and maintain optimism for her, but there was no greater enemy than one’s own mind. 

“I can’t ask that of my sister, or of our friends,” Dragon said. Phoenix and Val had both offered to be a surrogate for them if needed. Dragon felt so overwhelmed with their offer, and turned them both down. Pregnancy was no easy feat on the body, and she felt like she couldn’t risk them to carry a baby for her. 

“There’s more than just that,” Rooster said.

Dragon let out a sigh, “Sometimes I wish I was normal. Could’ve done this the. . . right way?” 

“The right way?” 

“Yeah, you know. . . natural conception,” Dragon gestured to the poster on the wall that depicted how sperm traveled through the uterus in search of an egg to fertilize. 

Rooster looked at it and scoffed, “Well then explain Jesus? Mary was a total virgin and shot a kid out of her.” 

Dragon rolled her eyes laughing at her husband, “That’s the immaculate conception. I would take that over having to do . . . all this.” She waved her hand around the exam room. 

“Hey,” Rooster kissed her hand, “Sometimes, you need a little science to make something amazing. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. You aren’t any less a mother because of it.” Dragon smiled and nodded at her husband’s words. He always made sure that Dragon understood that she was a mother. Even though their babies weren’t living on the earth with them, they were still parents to two beautiful heavenly babies. 

Rooster pressed a quick peck to Dragon’s lips as the door opened and Doctor Miller, aka Doctor Miracle walked in, a bright smile on her face. She had come highly recommended from Dragon’s usual GYN. Doctor Miller took on the tough cases, on the cases that most doctors wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. She usually specialize in geriatric pregnancies, but she had a soft spot for Dragon and Rooster. 

“Okay,” Doctor Miller said and set her laptop down on the counter beside her. She radiated with a warm vibe that Dragon sometimes hated. She reminded Rooster of his mother in some ways, “I am very, very hopeful about this. We took 14, out of the 32 we had left. We fertilized all of them, and we had 10 successfully split.” 

“That’s good,” Rooster said, and looked over at his wife, “We haven’t had that many.” 

“I know,” Doctor Miller said, “After the first 2 weeks, we currently have six, ready for transfer and insemination.” 

“Six?” Dragon said hopeful, “Th-that’s a lot,” 

“I know, it’s a lot,” Doctor Miller said, “We’ll still start with the implantation of two embryos, like we have been. Are you ready for this? There’s a possibility you could be pregnant with twins-” 

“Or none,” Dragon muttered and Doctor Miller smiled sadly. Rooster reached for his wife’s hand and squeezed it in his own. 

“I don’t like to give false hope to patients so I don’t,” Doctor Miller started but turned on her laptop, “These are your recent labs, all your hormone levels are within the normal range, and if you stay on the prenatals and hormone inducers. .  . I am very hopeful.” 

Dragon nodded and looked over at Rooster, “Okay. I’m ready.” 

The Bradshaws scheduled the transfer for a week from now, giving Dragon enough time to prepare for the next chapter in their lives. It was terrifying as she laid awake that night, a hand on her flat belly. Rooster rolled over on his side, slinging his arm around her waist and pulling her in close. A smile ghosted her lips as his hand found hers, and intertwined their fingers. Suddenly, there was a fuzzy feeling in Dragon’s chest as she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. She could see from the soft glow of the nightlight by his side of the bed, as a lazy smile rose on his face. 

“Luh you, honey,” Rooster mumbled. 

“I love you too,” Dragon whispered and turned her head back to the ceiling. She slowly drifted off the sleep and dreamed of what their future child would look like.

taglist: @princess76179 @bradleybeachbabe @yanna-banana @xoxabs88xox @milestomaverick @startrekfangirl2233 @caitsymichelle13 @peakascum @seitmai

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✧ note: I plan I posting more Opposites Attract in the next couple weeks! I have a Bob & Bea fic, A Phoenix & Cerberus Fic, and of course more Dragon & Rooster :) Send in requests if ya got 'em!

[rashoumon-homo]

- Bottom Dazai Week 2024 -

Day 5 - Burned Bridges

5/17/24 - “You’re pathetic.” // Begging

Dazai is on the run from the Port Mafia, and being alone is starting to weigh on him.

♡ ♡ ♡

The motel was dingy and dirty and cheap. Dazai had paid $25 in cash at the front desk for a room. The receptionist, a rail-thin old woman, thankfully didn’t even look up from her gossip magazine as she counted the bills and handed him a room key.

The room had a single queen-size bed. Moth-eaten curtains covered a window across from the door. When Dazai poked his head into the bathroom and turned on the light, several roaches scuttled under the cabinets. He sighed and turned the light back off.

It hadn’t even been a week that he’d been on the run since leaving the Port Mafia and he was already sick of it. Sleeping in ratty motels when he could, and squatting in abandoned buildings when he couldn’t. Stealing food from open-air market stalls on busy days when he could blend into the crowd, or digging through restaurant dumpsters for salvageable leftovers on the bad days. He also had no one to talk to- he was completely and utterly alone, which was regrettably weighing on him more than the physical conditions.

Dazai took off his tie and shirt and hung them up in the small closet. No coat- he’d burned that shit in the same fire that decimated Chuuya’s car. Burning bridges, fresh start, all that good shit. He slipped off his shoes and took off his pants, hanging them up as well. He’d have to get to a laundromat soon, everything was starting to smell.

Left in only his boxers, he flopped onto the bed. The mattress was lumpy and the sheets were musty, but he couldn’t complain. At least he’d be sleeping on a real bed.

The downside to being safe, if even momentarily, was that it gave space for his thoughts to wander. Lately he’d been having nightmares about Oda’s death, but today his thoughts went in a different direction. One plagued by visions of red hair and blue eyes. Of a face that so often scowled but could twist into the most breathtaking smile.

♡ ♡ ♡

Continue reading here!

Event Masterlist

Tag list: @suru1990 @little-miss-chaoss

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[starspann]

wouldn’t it be nice

joe cooper x reader

fem!reader, she/her pronouns are used

★☆✵☆★

warnings: cursing, violence, suggestive themes

notes: just something short bc i LOVE coop

the one where cooper wants remer’s girlfriend.

★☆✵☆★

cooper wasn’t the jealous type.

he never really considered himself to be one anyway.

in fact, throughout his life, he had prided himself on being the supportive friend, celebrating the successes and happiness of his team and friends, no matter what.

today, cooper stood alone, his gaze fixed upon the boy he grew up with, watching his fingers intertwined with his girlfriends.

he felt different when it came them, and he knew exactly why.

he envied him.

you’d figure it’s because he’s just lonely. because he and jenna didn’t work out, and the fact that he hasn’t gotten laid in months.

if you did, you’d be wrong.

the real reason behind the gnawing ache of jealousy that twisted his insides was caused by the girl currently wrapped in remer’s arms.

he wanted her more than anything.

it was hard for cooper to admit that to himself, even within the private corners of his own mind.

however, there was no denying the truth.

with each passing day, cooper made a conscious effort to suppress the green-eyed monster that threatened to poison their friendship.

that didn’t stop the thoughts of her that constantly ran through his head.

he’d imagine what’d it be like to be in remer’s position. to hold her hand, feel the tender brush of y/n’s lips against his own, the warmth of her embrace.

usually, during a game, as they watched a fellow beers teammate play from the dugout, remer would talk about y/n.

cooper didn’t want to know, yet he’d force the sentence out anyway,

“so, how are things with you and y/n?”

it’s almost like he wanted to outdo him.

remer would make subtle points about how perfect things were between him and y/n while all cooper could do was stare dejectedly, numbly nodding his head and acting like he gave a shit.

he gleefully shared with cooper all the details of her accomplishments, both big and small. he recounted stories of her selflessness and kindness that would bring a proud smile to his face.

but then he’d talk about her in bed.

what pissed coop off was the way remer would talk about it.

he paused, drawing in a deep breath before continuing on to describe some of the more intimate moments from y/n’s life that she most likely may have wanted him to keep to himself. remer seemed determined to tell it all in vivid detail.

“god, coop. she’s unbelievable, really.” he shook his head, “she purrs like a kitten.”

sometimes, this pissed him off so much, he felt like cracking his fist into the brunettes nose, hopefully breaking it and giving his uniform a dark red stain.

yet, he couldn’t help but a feel a little bit grateful for the information about y/n.

then he felt dirty.

he cringes when he remembers the time he heard them through the thin walls of their house and shamefully pleasured himself to their sounds.

cooper can recall countless nights like that. nights he spent tossing and turning, his mind plagued by fantasies he dared not indulge.

so he’d end up taking those feelings to him and remer’s shared bathroom.

it was a ritual at this point.

he’d stumble to the bathroom and hastily lock the door, fiddling with the zipper of his jeans.

one of his porno mag’s lied on the cold, bathroom tile, a well endowed model posing on the front cover.

he’d sigh and pick it up, quickly flipping through before stopping randomly.

he’d stop at some chick staring seductively back at him through the flimsy page.

“okay.. that’s kind of hot.” he thought, palming himself through the rough denim of his jeans.

he’d get off to the magazine but only while thinking of her.

his heart still ached.

walking out of the bathroom, he dragged his feet to his room.

remer is his friend. his best friend since childhood. y/n is his girlfriend. he just had to learn to respect that.

after all, cooper wasn’t the jealous type.

[simulamortem]

@naboocrowned

The queen had been suggesting another visit to the Outlands for some time. Often Revenant displayed his usual reluctance to the idea; there were limited public spaces they could safely - PRIVATELY - traverse together, many places were plagued with too much Syndicate surveillance, and he was loathe to allow any of the other Legends another single glimpse of her, most of all of the two of them together.

But it was an offhanded mention of an upcoming photoshoot that finally presented an opportunity. Hammond had spat out some new model for the next themed event for the Apex Games: 'DRESSED TO KILL.' A magazine Revenant had indulged on a couple of occasions before had requested a shoot of the new model. Front cover material, they said, since the simulacrum suited the theme to begin with.

He knew the shoot would be SMALL. It was something he could afford to have Symphony along for... at least under the pretense that she was some kind of professional associate.

She had also expressed an interest in the process of his swapping shells. Revenant had explained his underground facilities were far too secure for her to see for herself, but she could come to pick him up while he got CHANGED, so long as she stayed in the car where it was safe. So a private car driven by MRVN was arranged, bringing Symphony to what looked like nothing more than a rundown building on the edge of Solace City.

What was left of the structure was so nondescript that it was hard to tell what it may have been originally - but somewhere inside, presumably, lay a hidden entrance to one of the simulacrum's MANY centuries old production facilities.

[lino-jagiyaa]

enhypen when you’re shipped with your costar

including: hyung line

notes: thanks for the ask! sorry again for getting to it so late <3 also sorry if this is trash, i wasn’t sure what to write 😭 lmk if you’d also want maknae line :)

genre: headcanons, fluff, non idol!au, actor!y/n au, angst, jealousy

warnings: none/ written in lowercase!

requested?: yes | original request

HEESEUNG

he was accompanying you to a shoot and there were some fansites that had shown up as well. no one thought much of it since fans like to watch shoots from afar and you go out to greet them afterwards. today you guys were filming episodes for an ongoing romance drama and your love interest was a very handsome man whom everyone fawned over - but when this particular set was over with and you and your costars got to take a break, you went outside to say hello with your costar the fans quickly ran up to the two of you. heeseung was waiting outside in the same area as them and ended up getting pushed into the crowd of rowdy fans. confused, he still tried to make his way back to you but stopped dead in his tracks when he overheard one of your fans saying how cute you and your costar looked together. “y/n! omg, you two would be the perfect couple! are you actually together?” taken aback but not surprised, you assure them that you’re already in a relationship. once you found heeseung you brought him over to you and held his hand. “sorry, but that won’t be happening anytime soon. this is my boyfriend heeseung and we are in a happy relationship already. thank you for your support.” you smiled. heeseung was relieved but also worried that you might lose fans over the announcement.

JAY

the two of you were scheduled to go to a table reading and where walking through the office when the two of you overheard some of the people sitting at the front desk gossiping. “do you think they’re actually together? their boyfriend isn’t even an actor, why would they want to be with him?” jay tried to ignore it but he couldn’t help but keep those words in the back of his mind.

JAKE

he was picking you up from a cover shoot when he happened to walk past a magazine with you on the front cover. “how pretty.” he thought before noticing the tiny text right next to you, that read “secret relationship with their costar? will they be the next star couple?” shaking his head, jake tried to forget it. knowing, hoping you’d never leave him for a costar you’ve only known for a couple of months. later he’d ask you how work was going just to make sure his suspicions were correct.

SUNGHOON

sunghoon had just dropped you off for a shoot when one of his friends sent him an article about you and your costar. the headline said ‘rumors entail: y/n is dating their costar??’ what rumors? he thought. knowing that you had only ever hung out with this person on set and never had been seen in the media together alone. it didn’t make any sense. and there was no way he was going to accuse you of this, knowing you two were in a happy and committed relationship. he trusted you enough to know that you’d never cheat on him but there was still that doubt in the back of his mind telling him ‘maybe they will dump me for someone better. what if i’m not good enough, handsome enough?’ the thoughts plagued his mind. it made his heart ache knowing that’s how people around you, ‘fans’ saw your relationship. even after the two of you went public, fans didn’t want to accept him and acknowledge that the two of you together. it hurt him even after you assured him that he was the one you wanted to be with for as long as possible. that feeling would never go away.

lots of angst, i know. but hopefully you liked it! thank you for reading :)

taglist: @dadonbabysworld @lynanist

[hanmi-xo]

CHAPTER 1: "Haven and Hell"

| We Who Remain | Chapter List |

Previous | Next ------------------

I heard a noise come from behind me and I quickly pointed my gun up to the threat. There stood a soldier with an assault rifle in her hands ready to shoot me. I stared at the woman who looked oddly familiar.

The blood on my face was drying and stiffened me. It was strange to see her in a place like this. I haven't seen her in a year yet her features were easily recognizable.

"Jaewon?"

Her voice slightly raspy under its monotone layer. There stood my sister who I haven't seen since the start of this plague.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asks me while she brought her gun down away from me.

I mirrored her action and watched as she drew closer. The sound of broken glass can be heard while she took careful steps not to trip over the debris that laid on the floor.

The place was an utter mess. Her eyes darted to the bodies on the floor. Her body froze with her gun ready to shoot.

"They're dead," I tell her.

She slowly turned to me while her gun remained pointed down at what remained. Her eyes grew big as though she tried to understand what happened.

"They called me two hours ago to have dinner with them, and by the time I got here, they ended up like the rest of them..."  my voice came out quiet towards the end.

I watched my sister stare at our parents' heads that were filled with holes. Their remains gushed with blood, and pieces of their body were flung like paint. The scent filled this area like a gas chamber. I held my handgun tightly before analyzing it. I had a few bullets left in the magazine, and one ready in the chamber.

"They tried to bite me, you know," I explain.   My eyes remained on my weapon. "I don't know if they knew they were mutated when they called me or if they mutated afterwards. Whatever it is- it doesn't make any fucking sense."

My eyes met with my sister for a moment before she turned away.

"This place was supposed to be protected, Dowon. Do the people down stairs not know there's mutants in the apartments?" I dare question her.

It's been a year since I last saw her, and although I'm grateful she hasn't become one of them, I was mad with these turn of events. If this world wasn't so screwed over then we wouldn't be in this position.

My sister's eyes remained low. Her attention was on the mess that covered this space. I wasn't sure if she knew what was going on in this safe haven, but her expression may have told otherwise.

"The higher ups said there were only few that entered this place," she starts. "Our mission is to escort the healthy without making a racket."

She squatted down to take a sample of our parents' flesh. Her hands shook as she tried to remain calm.

"I didn't think it would get this bad so soon," she whispers.

I frowned at her words. "So, you knew, but the higher ups didn't send you guys sooner?"

"Listen Jaewon," she tries to calm me. "I had no say in this. I only follow orders."

I scoffed. "Orders. Fucking orders."

Her brows narrowed. I didn't mean to raise my voice, but all of this- all this that just happened angered me.

I may not have gotten along with my parents, but this wasn't fair to all those people who thought they were safe. My parents being one of them.

"All those people that I saw greeting me at the entrance..." My eyes went to the front door that remained open. "They don't know about the hell that's about to happen. They smiled like everything was going to be okay when it wasn't."

Dowon sighed. She stood in front of me with an unreadable expression. She was never good at expressing herself, but I could tell through her mannerism that this was bothering her as well.

"Let's get out of here. I already spoke to the other tenants before meeting you here." Her hands remained tightly on her AR that had a sling wrapped around her body. "We got rid of the mutants that wandered inside this building. There weren't many..."

She got quiet towards the end. She walked passed me with haste. I got a glimpse of her eyes, and I knew my questions would have to wait. My sister was never one to show how she feels, especially when she's upset.

I knew she needed time to mourn over the dead. Mourn over our parents.

Just like me, she wasn't close to them. Even so, they were once alive like everyone else. They had a life to live, but it was taken from them.

Apart me believes I could have stopped this from happening if I came sooner, but I knew that even if I did, would anything change? I saw scratch marks on their bodies when they attacked me, but if they came close in contact with them- who knows how many got here.

The guilt I had ran over me like it ran over my sister. We could have protected them.

I could see it in her eyes. She couldn't stop this from happening, so she remained quiet. Her eyes were watery but no tears came out.

I watched her retreating figure head to the front door, trying to avoid any eye contact with me. I remained where I stood while I looked once more at the hellbent place my parents once called home.

I narrowed my brows.

There were things I wanted to say to my parents one last time before leaving their remains here. But I couldn't find the words.

I never liked expressing myself or showing weakness. My dad would beat me if I so happen to cry. He would say that I was weak and that I should have been a boy. My father was sexist, but he was still my father. He ended up raising my sister and I without much affection. Our mother didn't do anything about it.

After all, she was the one who wanted to name us male names. Boys were all they wanted, so we were raised as if we were one.

Maybe things would have been better if I was a man. Maybe things would have been better if they appreciated my sister and I more. Whatever the case, my relationship with my parents came to an end the moment I pulled the trigger.

They were gone. And what we once had couldn't be fixed.

"You-you weren't the best, but you weren't entirely the worst," I whisper. The memories I had with them were many and not great- but they were still memories.

It was hard to remember the good ones since there were so many bad ones, but they were my parents. It's only normal to feel bad for the fallen.

"Maybe... we'll meet again in the after life..."

With that, I bowed one last time to give my respect to the deceased. My body shook as my mouth quivered. I refused to cry. My heart ached with each step I took, but I didn't dare turn back.

There's no point looking back at what could have been fixed when it's already been done.

They're dead.

Just like half of this damned world.

~

My sister guided us down the complex with her squad that was ready for any attack. I remember talking to my sister months before the plague came. She said she was leading ten people, but there were only six with us.

I didn't want to ask what happened. Especially not at a time like this. I don't want to imagine the events that occurred before they got here. We're losing to many too soon.

There were tenants that stuck behind me with fear running through their bodies. We were centered in the middle of the line while my sister's squad mates split into two groups. One group in the front and one group in the back. We were treated like important people, but even important people end up dying. I couldn't shake the feeling that even with all this preparation- we will still lose people.

I could hear the tenants quiver through their words as they try to calm each other. They shook like there was no tomorrow. I understood that fear, but I said nothing to them.

There were mothers with children, old couples, and unfortunately, there were few children without any parental figure. Most of the men were drafted to protect the country from the effected.

From my knowledge, the drafted stay in the area near family, but with what happened, who knows if any of them survived. This place will soon be bombarded by the mutated, and everyone that survives will be gone, dead, or far from here.

The safe haven was supposed to be protected so the healthy can continue our society while the rest fought, but this will be another spot that will be lost on the map marked with safe havens. It was important to keep a safe haven alive for the sake of humanity, but whenever we lose one, the government announces it on the speakers set out across the country.

It was like boot camp, but we were treated better. Follow the rules and nobody gets hurt. Or at least, thats what we're told.

I walked behind my sister with my hand on my hip holster where my handgun rested. I never liked being helpless. I was never allowed to carry a gun in the country unless I was in the military base doing training or on missions, but ever since I finished my years of service and became a civilian, I lost my privileges until the plague came.

Only those trained were allowed to carry firearms, whereas everyone else had to rely on any weapon they can find at home. I pity those who aren't trained for this. And I pity those that are.

In the end, nobody is safe. Soldier, civilian, politician, or whatever.

All we can do is fight to survive.

A scream filled the tight corridor before echoing in our ears. My sister signaled us to stop and immediately her squad and her went into formation ready for any attack.

We were reaching the lobby floor through the staircase when we heard the scream.

I watched as my sister peaked through the doorway that lead to the entrance lounge. There were other soldiers within the area, but their guns were pointed away from us.

It was like there was something coming.

I was here almost an hour ago, and this once peaceful space has become hostile. The change of atmosphere shouldn't surprise me, but it still bothered me.

Anything can happen. And it was coming.

It was faint, but I could hear it. There was a car alarm blaring. I couldn't see what was going on, but the noises I heard...

There was a horde coming.

Their inhumane shrieks and snarls were like hogs mixed with a monster. It didn't sound real. It was frightening.

Something or someone must of hit that car in order for it to alarm and attract the mutants.

Cars aren't allowed to be used unless the Head of the safe haven approves of it. The rules for safe havens varied on location. When I got here, I had to leave my bike behind.

I should have picked up that hint of danger once they stopped me at the safe point. If I wasn't allowed to bring my bike here, who was the idiot that brought their car?

First mutants entering this building with nobody speaking about it, and now a car that appears that shouldn't even be in this perimeter. How did nobody notice? Or rather, why did they not speak out about it?

Something wasn't right. This whole thing didn't feel like an accident. If the people in this complex really wanted to live, then they wouldn't do something so foolish.

The creaking of the doorway alerted me from its sharp noise. My sister pushed the door open.

"Stay together and pick up the pace." Her command caused her squad to stay on high alert. I can hear the children crying behind me with fear, but my eyes didn't go to them.

My hand remained on my gun. My attention was towards the blaring noise that wouldn't stop.

My sister signaled us to halt while the rest of her squad stood by our side. There were soldier that guarded this floor, and they seemed ready for a fight. One person stood out who had a slightly different uniform. It was similar to my sister's.

I don't know who that was she went up to, but he appeared to have the save rank as her.

Sergeant.

Was this guy in the same platoon as her? If so, then he had to be here.

My sister motioned us to come over before making us run past the soldiers whose guns pointed at the glass panel. I got a glimpse of the swarm to come.

We were good as dead even with these many soldiers. That horde looked more than a hundred mutants. They were coming. And they were coming fast.

"Jaewon."

My attention went to my sister who held a duffel bag filled with military equipment. There were duffel bags on the ground lined up on the wall, and I could only believe she got it from there.

"Take this. We're gonna need your help if we're going to get out of here." She sounded calm, but I knew she wasn't. She had to pretend for the sake of the civilians that were with us.

We can't let them know that soldiers are fearful people too. I've had my share with my time in the military, and pretending to be strong had to be the one thing you had to be good at.

Otherwise, you're good as dead.

I grabbed the bag from her. It was heavy with an assault rifle's heel and comb sticking out.

"Did they order you to do this?" I ask her.

Her eyes wandered from mine. She stared at the chaos that was going to unfold.

"No," she whispered.

I watched as my sister's eyes became soft behind that serious expression.

"It's extra equipment," she tells me.

I put the sling over my arm after taking the weapon out of the bag. I analyzed the equipment that was now mine.

"Just use the damn thing," she suddenly says.

Before I could read the name engraved on the bag, I heard the snarls of the beasts come closer. My eyes went back to the glass panel that protected us. The mutants banged their body against the surface with a horrendous sound. The more they banged, the more I saw how tense everyone got.

It was like a ticking time bomb. That glass was going to break at any moment. We need to leave while we still can.

"We have to escort these people to the truck," Dowon tells me.

"Truck?" I repeat her words. "Is it far?"

"It's outside in the back," she quickly says before guiding us to our getaway. The back entrance was only a few yards away from us, but even with that short of a distance, anything can happen.

Her squad remained close with us with the tenants running in fear right behind me. The noise of glass breaking can be heard in a distance before the following of loud gunshots.

"Don't look back," my sister says. "My squad will deal with them."

Although I knew the mayhem that will be happening, I couldn't help but turn around when I heard a number of footsteps drawing closer to us.

They weren't just running sounds, it was like they were sprinting.

The noise sounded rampant. It was unsteady and jagged. I knew that sound that was all too familiar. There it came- a snarl.

Once I turned to look, there they were.

"Duck! Take cover!" I hollered.

I quickly pointed my assault rifle to the group of mutants running towards us. Behind them, I could see soldiers fight for their life along with the sergeant that my sister was talking to just a while ago. They looked scared but their guns remained hot. They took turns shooting so the one having to reload can be protected.

Next to me, my sister's comrades began to shoot as well. The sound rang in my ears with a mixture of the beasts unending noise that sent chills throughout my body.

Screams of terror can be heard in the background as soldiers began to get picked off one by one. I can hear the civilians shriek in horror.

But I tried to remain calm. You can never be reckless at a time like this. My focus remained on those monsters. I shot each one with as much accuracy as I had. I never liked wasting a bullet.

Headshots after headshots.

But there was too many of them.

Dowon's squad remained their ground as they slowly got small in number. I could hear her yell at the civilians to run to the truck where another platoon would be guarding.

"Jaewon! Go!" I heard her shout behind me.

I backed up as I heard her get closer to me. My eyes remained on the threats that kept coming. I had to change magazines but I needed her to cover me.

"Just go Jaewon!" She yelled at me once more while I fumbled switchings mags.

She grabbed me by one of my arms to grab my attention. I turned to look at her and there was a hint of fear and worry in her eyes.

"Go," she said again. "I'll be right behind you."

I wanted to believe her. I really did. My sister usually sticks by her word, but right now even if I do leave this building, will any of us even make it out of here?

I pushed her back once I saw an evolved lung towards us. It was aiming at her, and I quickly shot it at its legs. It feel to the ground before rolling. It hit the glass panel before staring at me with its red eyes.

It twisted its head at me as if it was analyzing me. I tried to shoot at it, but it crawled away with such speed like a demon.

I can hear Dowon yelling at me to go while she tried to shoot at it.

It was like it was on steroids. Its speed was not normal. This has to be one of the fastest evolved I ever encountered.

Dowon tried to shoot at it but its speed was immaculate. It dodged every bullet as if it saw it coming.

"What the fuck is this thing!" I shout in anger.

It contoured its body like it had no bones. This thing- what the hell made it like this!?

Within a second, I saw it lung at me. It's body weight pushed me out the building through the open door and I could hear Dowon shout. I used my rifle to push it off me. The thing kept trying to bite as if it was desperate.

"GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" I yelled.

I lifted my leg and kicked it off. My adrenaline rush was kicking in and the moment I tossed it off, I shot at it with a direct hit in between the eye.

Its body flung back while the civilians that were entering the truck rushed inside the vehicle. They were scared and didn't even try helping me.

I don't blame them. There's only so much they can do.

I turned back around to see if Dowon was okay. I watched as another evolved lunged at her, but this time she had her gun up ready to shoot.

I ran towards the doorway to help her, and behind her I could see the horde coming towards us. She looked at me before looking back at the horde.

Before I could reach the door, she shut it on me and locked it. I banged on it in hopes she would open it, but she didn't.

Through the glass- the only thing separating us, she gave me a look that I couldn't forget.

She nodded her head at me with a smile that wasn't too happy.

She was protecting us from the horde that would make it outside. This glass panel- this surface that stopped me from helping her-

I watched her flail her arms for the hordes attention before running off. Her fallen soldiers remained on the floor before turning into the rest of these monsters.

The few that remained fought with her as they made their way to another staircase entrance. I couldn't see what happened since the horde engulfed my sight.

They were gone.

My sister and her squad.

They sacrificed their lives to protect these civilians. I was alone with them. Was I supposed to just go with these people? What about Dowon? Will she even be alive if I go inside?

No, I can't open the door. Even if I break it, it'll put all of us in danger.

The horde is already distracted. So why I can't I just move?

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what I could do.

Did I really lose all my family in a day?

A voice came through the duffle bag, and my ears perked up. I looked down at the bag my sister gave me. I dug through the equipment and found a radio.

I held it in my hands and heard the voice speak once more.

I knew this voice.

"Noe Dowon. Do you copy?"

I didn't speak.

"Noe Dowon! Are you there!?" The voice slowly grew frantic.

I narrowed my brows. It was him.

The man in charge of my sister.

Staff Sergeant Lee Dokyeom.

• • •

Previous | Next

[adultswim2021]

The Drinky Crow Show #10: “Aspire” | January 19, 2009 - 12:15AM | S01E09

This is a wild and wacky ride that takes some weird twists and turns. Gabby and Drinky are in trouble for allowing a french spy to get on the Captain's ship. Turns out said French Spy is one of Gabby’s girlfriends, who further uses him to get out of being executed by the Captain. By this I mean, he crawls up inside her womb to simulate a pregnancy. I told you this one was freaking weird!!!

Meanwhile, Captain’s daughter is miffed at being called unfunny (because she’s a girl!), so she enlists the help of a vampire comedian by inviting him onto the Captains boat for comedy lessons and consensual blood-letting. The count also complicates things by bringing his coffin on board and with it a swarm of rats that spread the deadly bubonic plague. Somehow it all peaks with observational stand-up comedy about vampires being performed inside Uncle Gabby’s rectum. Oh! Yeah! The vampire is voiced by Jackie Mason!

This really won me over. I was iffy on it at first but the part where Gabby pops out of his girlfriend’s birthing canal and brags about getting “all the placenta I can eat” and then chowing down on a big old placenta sandwich really made me laugh. It's honestly very easy to get jaded watching a lot of Adult Swim and it was nice not feeling that way. I laughed at the weird stoner stuff happening in front of me. It was nice. 

The other joke I loved was the photo gag, where Captain is shuffling through a series of spy photos he found that are concurrently being added to in real time.

Speaking of FUNNY STUFF: Captain’s Daughter’s quest to become a Babs Bunny style funny lady is fine; at first I was afraid it was gonna be a South Parkian stab at satire but I don’t think they were actually trying to say anything with all that.

IMDB GOOF: “pregnant” bitch is seen not pregnant in one scene, briefly. It’s the scene when Drinky Crow is gonna put that goo on her stomach so your baby can be on TV. The doctor kind of those things, I mean. I forget the word for that. ULTRASOUND. I googled it. 

EPHEMERA CORNER

Look Around You (January 19, 2009 - 1:00AM)

Robert Popper and Peter Serafinowicz created this wonderful program, whose first season was a lampoon of 70s/80s educational films, heavily resembling the films of the era. Each episode covers a particular topic that a typical science “module” might cover, but with weird stuff instead of facts. Also, each episode of the first season was 10 minutes long, basically already meeting the length requirements for a quarter-hour Adult Swim show.

The second series was also shown, but that series also had a format change that made the show a half hour edutainment magazine style show about popular scientific things. Those episodes aren’t quite as good, but they are still really great. I almost think one should watch series two first. 

I love this show! I haven't seen it in ages. I really ought to watch it soon, maybe. Hmm?

MAIL BAG

the funny man of tumblr

That is me! I am the funny man of tumblr :D

[myxsweetxeverything]

"The Lights in the Sky" Chapter 3 - "After School"

Read on AO3

Summary: A white van at the boutique, a talk over ice cream, and headaches.

Author's Note: Sorry for how long this took. Also apologize that this chapter is mainly character and plot set up - but I promise things are going to get weirder.

As per the last chapter's edit, this and the previous chapter now take place on June 3rd (again, keep track of dates, would be writers - don't be like me).

June 3rd, 1994 4:52 Lulu's Boutique

Lavender Creek had - on a good day - a population of around three thousand. If someone somehow had the desire to visit, they would have to drive two and a half hours south of Portland, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Greeting you upon arrival were ruins of locally owned businesses closed down by Walmart, the great carcasses of the steel plant and textile factory, and the number one destination of any Friday night - the Dairy Queen. On the outskirts of town, you'd find the Lavender Creek Dairy Plant, which in the last ten years had been plagued by issue after issue.

That wasn't getting into the seedier parts of town. The patches of cheap bars with cheaper booze, a gun shop run by someone convinced doomsday would happen at any moment, and a pair of gas stations with pale and twitchy men hanging around back trying to make a quick buck with questionable substances.

It was nothing but a dead end of a town. In the mind of a thirteen-year-old fashion-crazy girl like Mariqueen, the worst part was that the only place around to buy anything resembling cute clothes was Lulu's Boutique.

At the front desk, keeping a disinterested eye on would-be shoplifters, was gray-haired Lulu herself. Supposedly she had been the town beauty queen in her youth (“I was this close to becoming Miss Oregon - then I would have been Miss USA,” she once claimed unprompted to Mariqueen), and she had opened the shop after her attempted acting career floundered. The ‘boutique’ had its walls covered in flowery paper that hadn’t been in style in almost 40 years, but Lulu had grown too attached to the hideous patterns of dusty roses. Even though smoking had not been allowed in the shop for several years, everything down to the carpet still smelled of a mix of tobacco and Eau de Toilette. The clothes in the boutique were more often than not two years out of date, squashing Mariqueen and her friend’s desire to match the latest trend that the magazines talked about.

Lori's twenty-six-year-old stepmother stood boredly near the magazine rack, tapping her freshly manicured nails against her thigh. She shot a glare at the girls here and there; when she saw that they weren't getting in trouble, she went back to staring at photos of Hollywood couples. Throughout the boutique, the four girls ran around and blabbered about the season's hottest colors, what would attract boys the most, and if those adorable high heels they couldn't possibly walk around in or afford came in their sizes.

"Do you think I can get this in blue?"

"Lori, you always look bad in blue. Yellow is your color anyway."

"You know I hate yellow! And what about that blue dress I wore to the spring dance? You said I looked amazing in it!"

"I lied."

"You're so mean, Chrissy."

"Only because I'm right and you know it."

To say that Mariqueen hadn't been paying attention to her friends' ramblings would be an understatement. Usually all too willing to join in with their fashion talk, something else had caught her eye. It wasn't a dress, a pair of shoes, or a piece of sparkling jewelry. Of all things, it was a white van parked on the curb in front of the shop.

A dirty white van in desperate need of a carwash, but still. Why it caught her eye not even she knew - white vans were a dime a dozen, even in Lavender Creek. The only thing she knew was that she had never seen a white van parked in front of Lulu's before. There were no business logos on the side, which made it even harder to figure out why it was there at all.

Mariqueen moved closer to get a better view out the window, failing to look the least bit subtle about it ("Why is she being weird?" Melissa muttered before heading to the dressing room). With her face practically pressed against the glass, she caught sight of the driver's seat. Barely visible through the tinted glass was a tall, thin figure sitting still. Their head stared forward; Mariqueen glanced at the front of the van, but if anything was interesting going on over there, she must have missed it.

She looked back at the figure.

Their head turned. The hairs on Mariqueen's neck stood straight.

Somehow, she knew they were now staring right at her.

Mariqueen froze.

"Hello? Earth to Q, are you there? Looks like she's shut up for once…"

"Show her the perfume, she'll love it."

A thick, musky stench shoved its way into Mariqueen's nose.

"Hey!" Mariqueen shouted. With a grimace, she pushed away the source - Chrissy's perfume-drenched wrist. "Ich, what is that? Are you trying to suffocate me?"

Chrissy pouted at her. "It's the same perfume my cousin Amy uses, and she says all the boys in Seattle go crazy when she wears it." She shook her head. "You know Q, we looked all over for you after school and we brought you with us, the least you can do is be nice."

"And what were you even doing with that ugly Reznor kid anyway?" Lori piped in. "He and his friends are a bunch of weirdos, everyone knows that."

An engine came alive outside the shop. When Mariqueen turned her attention back on the window, it was too late - the van had already made its getaway. And despite its absence, Mariqueen didn't feel any more relieved

Instead, she felt a desperate need to talk. About what, she didn't know. She looked around the shop in search of anything that would spark a conversation before settling on the sunglasses rack next to her. The rack stood like a tall creature made of mirrored eyes, each one reflecting her barely-hidden panic.

"Do you think this-" Mariqueen grabbed a pair of tangerine-orange framed sunglasses, "-will go with my new swimsuit?" She hastily placed the sunglasses over her eyes. She grinned at her reflection, but even she knew how fake the expression was; an actress she was not.

Behind her, Lori said, "Orange is a terrible color, Q."

"And what do you know about color?" Mariqueen asked, extending the 'you' in a mock snobby tone.

"I don't think you are allowed to judge anyone," Lori snapped and took a pair of tortoise-shell framed glasses.

Putting the glasses back on the rack, Mariqueen shot Lori a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Emerging from the dressing room, Melissa pranced across the boutique's plush carpet. Her sundress, yellow with subtle butterfly patterns, reached just past her knee. "You know what she's talking about."

"No, I don't."

"God, Q…" Lori picked up a bottle of shocking pink nail polish, eying it. "You're so clueless sometimes, you know that?"

Melissa tsk'd. "What do you expect from her?"

"Girls, have you picked out what you want yet?" Lori's stepmom walked over in between the girls, interrupting the argument that was surely about to erupt. "I don't have all day."

Melissa threw her hands up in protest. "I'm not done trying out clothes!"

"Do I look like I care?"

All four girls sighed. Melissa begrudgingly went back to the dressing room, while Chrissy and Lori picked out their respective perfume and nail polish. For Mariqueen, who had barely been looking at the merchandise since laying eyes on the white van, the decision of what to get was much more difficult. She had a decent amount of allowance saved up, but it wasn't nearly enough to buy anything she did want.

Her eyes wandered until she saw the turning jewelry display on the front counter. Lulu had gotten bored making sure they weren't stealing anything, as her nose was between a paperback romance novel. She didn't raise her eyes while Mariqueen approached the desk. Hanging from the display, shining and glittering under the fluorescent lights, was an elaborately-designed heart pendant attached to a silvery necklace. She moved in closer and looked at the price tag.

It was the exact amount of money she had saved up.

She picked it up from the display, grinning. "I know what I'm getting!"

--

5:01 PM The Dairy Queen on 5th and Walker

It was in between spoonfuls of cheap ice cream that Robin asked him the question. "How did you get away from Mr. Roberts anyway?"

Four of them were sitting on the sidewalk with their cones in hand. The Dairy Queen was near the edge of town, passed the abandoned textiles factory, where the trees became greater in number and provided ample shade from the early summer sun. Danny had wolfed down his Blizzard in record time, got a brain freeze, and was hanging and spinning by one hand around a nearby street lamp. Richard was trying to get a peanut out of his braces with his tongue from his peanut butter cup Blizzard, and Tori sat silently watching Danny while eating her strawberry sundae.

With a mouth full of ice cream, Trent froze. He swallowed hard. "What?"

"How did you get away from Mr. Roberts?" Robin repeated. "No way you just ran."

Richard excitedly piped up, "Yeah! Did you kick him in the balls or something?"

"No! But I wanted to." Trent shook his head.

"Then how did you get away?" Tori asked. "You're so…tiny compared to him."

Trent sneered at her. Why was she always treating him like he was so fragile? "No I'm not! I got away because-"

The image was all too fresh in Trent’s mind, and he still had no idea how to attempt to process it. The memory flashed in his head - the hand letting him go suddenly. Mr. Roberts staring wide-eyed in shock. The way the hand was suspended as if an invisible puppet master was holding it still.

The throbbing in Trent's head was back in full force. Each breath he drew made his brain react with another burst of pulsating pain. The sunlight, even with the shade, didn't help matters. He could almost excuse it as an intense brain freeze, but this hurt more than any brain freeze he ever had.

Trent stared back at the remainder of his chocolate-dipped cone and frowned, his appetite gone. "He let me go. I guess."

Tori looked at him worryingly.

"If I -" Danny let go of the street lamp, but continued spinning in his sugar high. "If I were you I woulda kicked him in the balls. And give him the finger." He stopped spinning, but couldn't keep his feet from stumbling or his head still. "And then I'd tell him to-" Danny's face turned a sickly green. "Oh fuck…"

No one turned around as Danny stammered over to the nearby garbage can and dry heaved. The grip on Trent's sugar cone loosened. He was starting to feel ill himself - and he hadn't even been spinning.

Pain pulsed through his head again.

"I wanna go home," He muttered. "Mr. Roberts probably called my grandma and told him what happened. She's probably wondering where I am."

Next to him, Tori rested her arm on his shoulder. "Worried she's gonna be upset?"

"It's not that. I just-" He stuttered. Tori gave him an incredulous look (her "mom" face, he called it), and his face flushed. "Okay, yeah, I am. Not that much though."

"Hey, at least you didn't spray paint a teacher's car like we did!" Shouted Danny, still face down towards the trash can. "Tell her that, it'll put shit in perspective."

"And then get us in trouble?" Richard protested.

"Yeah, about that, I still have no idea how you talked me into that," Said Tori. "I lose several IQ points when I'm around you guys, I swear…"

"Because you're the minister's daughter," Said Robin, who had just bitten off the last of his Dilly Bar and was twirling the stick between his fingers. "And who'd ever suspect her when she plays piano at every church function?"

Tori gave Robin a silent but coy look, then went back to playing with her strawberry sundae.

"Dude, are you even puking anymore?" Robin asked. He craned his neck to see Danny's head still facing the trash can.

"Nah. Didn't even puke, nothing came out."

"...then what are you still doing over there?"

"Come here, I'll show ya…"

As Robin stood up and walked towards the trash can, Tori rolled her eyes. "Anyway, listen, she's not gonna be that upset with you. She and your grandpa will probably just talk with you and leave it at that."

"Yeah, but…"

"But 'what'?"

"...never mind. I'm going home." Trent grabbed his backpack with his free hand and stood.

"I'll come with you!" Richard chimed, oblivious to Trent's dour mood. "I don't think I wanna be around Robin for a while anyway."

Mere feet away, Trent caught the sight of Danny forcing Robin's head into the all-too-full trash can. A muffled "Asshole!" emanated from inside the can as flies flew around in a frenzy. Danny laughed maniacally, even while Robin fruitlessly tried to kick him. Tori suppressed a gag from her spot on the sidewalk, while the only thing Trent suppressed was a laugh at Robin's expense.

"...You know, I do have a curfew tonight, so I should probably get going…" She looked up at Trent. "Are you gonna be alright? With your grandparents, I mean?"

Trent shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." He tried not to imagine his grandmother, all sad and disappointed, as he and Richard walked away.

--

5:50 PM

"Hey, Trent?"

"Yeah?"

"So, I overheard my parents talking earlier." Richard fidgeted with the straps of his backpack, while his steps developed a spring. "And we might go visit Robert in LA in July, and I was thinking about asking them if you, you know, wanted to come with us?"

"Um, I'm gonna have to think about it. Ummmm, I might be-"

Catching a brief glimpse of Richard's excited and waiting face, Trent felt like an idiot when he realized what he was saying - Richard wasn't asking him if he wanted to do a run-of-the-mill sleepover. He was getting another chance to leave town.

What was Trent even saying? What 'might' he be doing this summer anyway? At most, his grandparents might drag him to some crappy tent on Mt. Hood. It wasn't like he was visiting his mom and sister either - Tera was spending the next six weeks at camp, and his mom was too busy working.

But Los Angeles would be cool. It would be way different than Lavender Creek. Different and better. And Richard's brother, one of the lucky ones who managed to escape town, became a movie star - he lost count of the times Richard dragged them all to see Terminator 2 when it came out.

It could be fun. It would be fun.

"Um, yeah, I'd like to go." He kept his tone calm, trying not to sound like an overly excited loser. "I have to um, check with my grandparents first."

Richard broke into a grin. "Yeah! I'll ask my mom. It'll be the best vacation ever!"

Trent nodded half-heartedly. He saw the familiar sight of the Patricks' house coming closer with every step. The family car sat in the driveway, but Trent couldn't spot any sign of life in the front yard or through the windows. Countless hours had been spent in the front and back yards, and despite not living there Trent knew that house like the back of his hand.

The front door opened, revealing a very displeased Mrs. Patrick. She crossed her arms. "Where have you been, young man?"

Richard sighed and visibly resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They were mere feet from the front lawn now, freshly cut by one of his older siblings. "I was hanging out with my friends, Mom!"

She shook her head. "Get inside and help me set the table."

The two of them reached the mailbox, and Richard looked at Trent, then at his mother. "Hey, Mom? So, Trent and I were talking, and, um, could he come with us to see Robert?"

Mrs. Patrick tightened her lips. "I'm sorry, honey, but your father and I…We've agreed to keep this a family vacation. Lord knows it's hectic just getting all seven of us under control for a vacation." She looked at Trent, still standing on the sidewalk with a newly crestfallen face. "Trent, dear, would you like to join us for dinner? It's casserole night, you like casseroles don't you?"

"Um, no thank you, Mrs. Patrick," Trent said dully. "I…I have plans with my grandparents."

Richard gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry, Trent."

"It's fine, whatever." Trent shrugged, but his muscles were stiff.

"Guess I'll see you later, man."

Trent nodded and went silent as Richard sprinted up the front porch, with his mom nagging him about something Trent couldn't make out. When the door closed, making mother and son invisible, Trent sighed and started his trek home. It wasn't a long walk, ten minutes if he walked fast enough. Just in time for his grandpa to get home from work.

He took one last look at the Patricks' house as he passed by the edge of their yard. It made him think of the day when he started kindergarten, and during recess, Richard had asked him if he wanted to play pretend. Trent said yes because he had just moved there and didn't know anyone. And then it turned out his grandparents didn't live too far from Richard's family, and his grandmother was quick to arrange a playdate between the two of them.

A seemingly endless amount of days had passed in that yard. A seemingly endless amount of days had passed in that street, in that neighborhood…

In all of Lavender Creek.

A frown crept over his face. He hadn’t always lived in Lavender Creek, but it sure as hell felt like it did. After he was born, he and his parents moved to Portland and lived in a one-bedroom apartment. Trent didn’t understand why they divorced, but he understood his mother’s reasoning for sending him to his grandparents even less. Why couldn’t he have stayed in Portland like his dad did? Like his mom and sister did? Why was he thrown out into the middle of nowhere? He loved his grandparents more than anyone else in the world, but did they have to live in a nothing town where the most exciting thing to happen was a bank robbery from when he was eight?

He was tired of Lavender Creek, absolutely sick of it. Seeing the same faces, the places, in and out every day made him want to puke sometimes. And his chance of getting out of Oregon just flew by just as he found out about it. It was like he was trapped in the same boring town until he died.

If he can't leave, why couldn't something just happen once? Just once he’d like something more to happen around there. Something interesting. Something he's never experienced before.

The wind rustled the bushes as he walked, his destination getting nearer. The sound of an engine caught his attention and he turned around. His heart sank with dread as he saw his grandparents’ worn-out station wagon slow down and pull over.

In the driver seat, his grandfather rolled down the window. Mr. Clark smiled at him. “Hey there, young man. Why the long face?”

Trent paled and looked down at his feet. “...I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Did it have to do with that call I got from the football coach at your school?"

No reply came.

"Why don't you come on in and we'll talk it out with Grandma when we get home? Sound like a plan?"

Before he could begrudgingly nod, a burst of pain struck Trent’s head.

Everything went black, with the only sound being Trent's grandfather yelling his name.

--

6:47 PM Ross Residence

"You have to see the plans, you really do. The mayor will have no choice but to agree to the proposal!" Uncle Marcus took another swig of his wine. "Iris honey, you think so, right? What am I saying? Of course, you do!"

Aunt Iris gave a reluctant nod as if even she was skeptical of her husband's ideas. Mr. and Mrs. Ross gave Uncle Marcus unsure looks, which they had kept for the entirety of the rather one-sided conversation. For their part, Atticus and his siblings paid zero attention to the extended business-related rant that their new uncle just gave at the dinner table. Atticus had barely looked up from the pile of vegetables that he poked repeatedly with his fork.

Mr. Ross sat his water glass down on the table. "That's…quite the project you have, Marcus."

Mrs. Ross was more direct. "This isn't going to work."

"Now don't say that!" Uncle Marcus exclaimed. "A mall is just what Lavender Creek's economy needs. And everyone will love it and want to go there! It'll be the crown jewel of the town" His eyes hovered over the Ross children, each one looking more bored than the last. His gaze settled on Atticus. "Hey kiddo, how's it hanging?"

Atticus felt a sense of dread coming on that he was powerless to stop. Holding in an annoyed sigh, he said, "Um, it's- yes?"

Uncle Marcus grinned. "Good! I have a question for you, and I'm sure that makes you feel special. A question just for hip, cool kids like you." Atticus hoped he didn't see him cringe at that. "Malls: like 'em, or love 'em?"

Atticus was paralyzed - mostly by embarrassment. He nervously looked to his mother, who stared at Uncle Marcus with bemusement.

"You're probably thinking, 'Why does an old man like him care about my opinion?' I just happen to think you're a cool kid, Alan."

"M-my name is Atticus."

"That's what I said, but anyway-" Just as Atticus stood up from his chair, Uncle Marcus put his hand up in a 'stop' gesture. "Wait right there, kiddo, you never did answer my question." Atticus slowly sat back down. "And why do you like malls so much? Go into as much detail as you want, don't be shy!"

"Um, I don't go to malls…"

"How can you not like malls? Oh, I get it, you're in that 'everything sucks' phase that all teens go through."

As everyone else started to gather their dishes and leave the dining room table, Atticus became more annoyed by him. If Uncle Marcus didn't speed this up, Leopold would get to the computer before he did. "I just don't like them much. I don't like shopping."

"Well I'm just gonna have to change your mind, aren't I? So, I was thinking of adding an ice rink right in the center of…"

Atticus never wanted someone to shut up so badly in his life. When he overheard Leopold telling their mother he was going on the computer, he wanted to scream.

--

7:04 PM Clark Residence

When he came to, his vision just barely made out the two dark, gray outlines above him. Quickly, they developed more features, becoming more human as his eyelids fluttered like butterflies.

"Oh thank God, he's awake!"

Trent looked up at his grandma's concerned face and in a hoarse voice, said, "I'm sorry I escaped detention."

A sad smile crossed Mrs. Clark's face. "Oh honey, what are you talking about?"

"I-"

"Shh…" Next to Mrs. Clark, Mr. Clark held up a tall glass of ice water to Trent's view. "We'll talk about it tomorrow when you're feeling better, alright?"

Almost too weak to nod, Trent somehow managed to pick up the glass and put it to his dry lips. The speed at which he downed it would have earned him the envy of any hard-partying frat boy, and when he finished Mr. Clark took the glass back. His grandmother brushed his hair back gently, and it made him realize how sweaty his forehead was.

"How's your head?" She asked him.

He shrugged. "I guess it's okay."

"We'll let you get some more sleep and we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

His eyelids growing heavy, Trent whispered, "Okay…"

By the time they turned off the lamp on his nightstand, he had already fallen back to sleep. Mr. and Mrs. Clark exchanged worried looks at each other, then at their grandson. Despite how sound asleep he was in his bed, Trent's face was just as scrunched up as it was when he was awake and barely holding up his glass. His breaths were slow, but shaky. The blanket was warm and thick, but his small body still shivered.

Silently, they both hoped he would be better by morning.

---

11:59 PM

Thick, velvety darkness covered Lavender Creek like a blanket on a child's bed. Even the few remaining stragglers in the waking world - blue-collar workers in bars, bored teens with nothing to do - would soon become transfixed by sleep's spell. Each bedroom window light would soon be switched off one by one, plunging the town further into darkness.

None of it would last. Not the peaceful sleep. Not the directionless nightly activities. Not the familiar but comforting darkness. Not the idea of a normal, carefree summer vacation.

Because with a burst of light coming from the sky, it all came to a horrible, violent end.

[thecosmicsen]

✮ ┆ a very happy birthday to the queen herself @shesin  

how disgusting. 

Jaewoo’s lips curl down in distaste,  a sourness scouring his mouth with its repulsion.  of course all the various forms of media crown the glory of the legend billionaire miss Inés.  of course her silky raven locks emboss every single digital neon billboard,  every single damn glossy magazine cover,  even all traditionally printed subway posters curated by her biggest fans congratulating her with massive hearts and cutesy edits.  

she is as beautiful than ever.  but out there for the world to bask in and perceive her gorgeous existence.  

disgusting.

the city in its ever vibrant bustling landscape breathes out soft lulling crisp November breezes.  in the distance,  the joyous cries of drunken friendship circles whose laughter or sobs cannot be distinguished ring out muffled.  grunts of one or three late working businessmen puncture the usual city background buzz as they shuffle about on their way to get home,  the reek of soju tainting their breaths.  softly treaded heaps of leaves piled neatly to the side showcase the warm spectrum of autumn hues,  damp with the earlier morning showers of rain.  

he feels chillier than usual.

is that even possible for the ghost  ?  Jaewoo shrugs it off as he tugs down the sleeves of his thermal black shirt.  placebo or not,  the multiple layers of his black clothing give the illusion of warmly dressed young male traversing the streets of the city’s poshest neighbourhood boundaries.  dotted luxury imported car brands indicate the top tier income brackets of the residents inhabiting the high-rise glitzy towers,  all standing in stark contrast to the muted colours of the all-black decked out ghost. 

he wanders down his personal path to Inés’ penthouse,  a journey he had placed the same boots in one too many times.  it is a very special day today but it fills his mouth with a bitter taste to know that he is one of the many millions giving her heartfelt congratulating her successes on another year done.  a truly happy birthday to you indeed Min Inhye.  you have achieved so many in such little time.  a billionaire before thirty and spearheading the country’s economy.  

how long do vampires have left to live anyway ?  she is not immortal but she has been around for god awful centuries long.  the thought plagues his mind,  how many birthdays left for them together  ?  like a stab to his guts,  an invisible dagger twists his intestines around in clenching agony over the anxiety of not having her along for much longer.  no,  this is not the time to think about it.  today is a day of celebration.  it must be perceived as such.  

for once,  it is a breeze to step into her penthouse.  Jaewoo enters silently,  hoping for it to be a surprise although there are no kind of unpredicted moments for the billionaire boss.  she has a knack for keeping up to speed with every single one of his moves.  he could swear that she has injected a chip in his body at this point that enables her ability to track him down to the exact cm spot he inches in.  a warm fuzzy glow tingles throughout his limbs at the thought of her doing such a possessive procedure on him.  proof of how much she cares for him if she ever does that. 

alas,  it seems like nobody is in.  the penthouse with its dimmed swanky lights and motion-triggered lamps do not indicate the presence of anyone already in. 

Jaewoo is stupefied.  but then the clouds of volcanic fury erupt through his temporarily ease of mind like a blazing blast of destruction.  

where is she and who is she with for her birthday ?!

despite the heavy fog of antagonised outrage,  he manages to carefully place one foot in front of the other to step by step walk to her bedroom.  there is an ingrained fear,  a traumatic response almost,  the walk up to her door as he does not know what he can come to witness on the other side. 

empty.

he does not know whether to sigh in relief or allow another seeping wave of resentment to fizzle his blood. it does not matter.  he will leave his birthday card for her by her bedside drawer.  on second thought,  perhaps her pillowcase works better.  nodding in agreement with himself,  the ghost places the letter card on her finely threaded pillow tops.  as he does so,  the faintest smudge of crimson blood transfers from his fingertips to her fluffed up bed decor.  

spinning around on his heel,  he is about to make his way out until the sharp waft of french designer perfume assaults his senses.  his body instinctively sings out in joy to be enveloped with the scent of the woman he loves.  she is near,  she is here  !

“  what is that you bring to my apartment,  Ahn Jaewoo ?  ”  she interrogates with scorn dripping in her tone.  arms folded,  she confronts him at her doorway through narrowed eyes.  but an interested lilt of her head as she soaks in the sight.  

the amount of blood that his clothes are soaked in cannot even be singled out alone.  they cover every inch of his clothes,  almost as if his attire was made to be naturally blood soaked in design.  

“  where did you come from  ?  ”  he sharply retorts,  wanting immediate answers on her whereabouts and how she managed to sneak up on him like this.  yet again.  

“  answer me.  ”  Inés takes another step towards him.  he is suddenly acutely aware of how she towers above him with the new four inch black stilletos she slipped on.  another deliberate move on her end to intimidate him into submission  ?  more than likely.  he is utterly turned on by the sight irrespective of how unapologetically sadistic she has become.  

“  I left you a birthday card,  ”  he obediently breathes out,  rapt with excitement to see her next moves.  he takes on step closer to the imposing yet sexy silhouette of the vampire.  he is not afraid.  he has been waiting for her,  to spend time with her on her birthday no matter the outcomes of his visit  -  may they be mired with smeared heartbreak or a glimpse of trembling lovesick hope.   

“  read it aloud to me,  ”  she sternly instructs,  her voice raspy with the authority she exudes in her birthday outfit of the night.  adorned by a chic black silken dress that seems to have no back,  she has her lips painted a deep ruby red.  it aches Jaewoo to see them untouched by him.  they should be smeared with the traces of his lips on hers.  

Jaewoo is more than willing to oblige.  with a nonchalant shrug,  he mumbles a whatever underneath his breath although he can feel the phantom palpitations of his dead heart racing with elation to be spending minutes with Inés on her birthday.  as it always should be.  

opting to sit at the end of her bed,  his blood soaked jacket swipes the edges of her blankets tainted with crimson.  deliberately edging his legs apart,  he clears his throat before beginning to read out the contents of his scribbled birthday letter to her:

“  dearest Inés,  you live to see another year of another century you managed to outlive in.  the way how you were brought into this universe says a lot about you.  there are few like you,  if there are any at all.  that is why,  once upon a time ago,  I was so smitten and in awe of your existence.  I always thought to myself,  how did I become so lucky in the time where you could have been anywhere else in the universe or could have been brought into the pits of hell by your father during another time period that wasn’t occupied by me just yet.  but yet we had met each other despite all odds.  we met at a time and place that seemed like fate because you and I were both born at the right times.  there is no denying what you have achieved so far even if you do get a lot of privileged leverages over other humans trying to make a living in this era.  

but here we are now,  you may think this isn’t a time where we would get to spend time with each other.  yet your birthday is a celebration that will always be spent with me.  I will always commit to remembering your age, your existence,  what you have accomplished in this life but what you have also done to me.  all the betrayals and wrongdoings that you have inflicted me with,  I will still take them as your gifts to me.  I have learnt over time the true nature of your demonic side so I will reciprocate.  your birthdays and existence is the purpose to my new life now after all.  if your time as a vampire were to end soon,  that would be the finishing line for me too.  do you know how much you mean to me  ?  you are the reason why I am anchored down to earth forever after all.  that is why I will still continue to lovingly celebrate your birth and your existence.  I am nothing without you.  that is why I am honouring your birthday with gifts of my own.  happy birthday,  Inés.  the reason for my continued existence.  ” 

after reading aloud,  Jaewoo anxiously flits his eyes up to see her reaction to his words.  he is not sure if he correctly observed flashes of intrigued admiration or the flitting of desolate nostalgia within the depths of her eyes.  the moment is over too soon,  she reflexively switches back to her cold calculating stare as she fixates on his staring back.  

“  what gifts did you get for me  ?  ”  is it his imagination or is her tone slightly softer in nature now  ?  she begins to approach him on the bed,  heels tapping on the echoed cold marbled floor.  

with a knowing smirk now,  he matches her posture by slowly arising from the bed as he folds his arms,  card still pocketed in his grasp.  “  if you follow the coordinates on my card,  you will see my gifts there.  but if you really want to know what I did in celebration for you,  I’ll tell you now.  ”

Inés walks right up to him now,  bodies almost touching but she piercingly stuns him with her hardened gaze whilst he looks up at her with throbbing excitement.  

“  be a good whore,  and tell me what you got for me.  ”  she enunciates every single of her words as if she has to clarify to a baby,  plucking the card from his hand so she can examine the contents for herself.

“  I did a sacrifice for you baby,  the kind where we are fated to spend all our future birthdays together for the rest of eternity.  you will see when you get there.  I did everything to make sure of it.  ”  he smugly replies,  very much proud of himself for coming up with this one.

“  hm,  interesting.  ”  she raises a brow in surprise,  abruptly shoving at his chest with brutal force that sends him flying backwards on her bed.  the taint of the staining blood spreads out further on her sheets but she seems to be unperturbed by it.  “  then you will be a good boy and let me take my next present for myself. ”  

who is he to say no to the birthday queen  ?

[oswednesday]

speaking of That i had a bunch of dreams but the one before i woke up like; okay so i have a lot of plague doctor dreams even before getting into plague doctor media like i saw one as a child in a history book and it was game over on the spot But i have these dreams and they end up having fairly consistent like lore for the things that happen in the dreams so over time i have like Stats for them in my dreams like, so the last dream i was like a baby plague doctor at like a monster high pre-med situation only instead of like monster monsters it was like mad scientists at an all ghouls school so it was like daughter of moreau and so on; i was the only really physically monstrous i had friends but this sort of physical body put me on the oust like socially

the teacher who did autopsy was a mega pervert to me to the point where it was like common knowledge my friends would be like hey dont come to class we'll bring you everything you need just show up for tests youll ace them but i wanted the full marks for attendance like any less than the highest score i should get was unacceptable, i sat in the right hand side front row seat despite everything and in the dream im normally very organized and ready for class but between the teacher and how much of a good job i wanted to be i was like dropping my note cards, all disorganized while the class was just FLOPPING stuff i knew by heart eventually the teacher guy got out a layman's magazine about the subject and walked over to me, he like basically put the magazine in my little glove-like bird hands and was like okay class come around for me to read to them (he didnt Respect that i had genderlessness but my friends and the general class population did) so now the entire class is around my desk and hes standing next to me like one hand on the far back of the desk seat so his arm crosses my back and neck and towards the next of the dream as im reading out (the topic was the stages of decay collapse of dermatitis trauma and how to drain-clean, stitch and post care, it was all very Dermatitis Trauma Lesson Is About Sex) the article from the magazine when he grabs the end of my hair (the reason for the above introductions, the "masks" are apart of the face and then different things are held to the face via straps like a muzzle and it represents class and family and stuff, my hair is uncovered because im in a non-plague doctor environment and not an active doctor, the covering is fabric but the coat is like an exo-skin situation with a secondary skin underneath, hats are only for adult plague doctors which means they can go practice and make nests anyway now youre caught up) and starts to like rub it between his fingers and i woke up before anything else happened

[tenaciouspostfun]

Is the present cast as good as when it first opened on Broadway in the early 2000's? Debatable. Where Tim Curry absolutely killed it as King Arthur and under Mike Nichols brilliant direction, "Spamalot was a sensation back when. Under the book by Eric Idle and music by John Du Prez and Eric Idle this musical is still a brilliant piece. Director (and choreography) Josh Rhodes takes this great piece based on the 1975 movie Monty Python and The Holy Grail now playing at the St. James Theatre and keeps the side splitting laughter front and center.

It is 932 AD, plague beseeches much of England. God has chosen King Arthur (James Monroe Iglehart) to find the Holy Grail. Arthur summons his round table to help him in his journey. From Sir Lancelot(Taran Killam), Sir Robin( Michael Urie), Galahad (Nik Walker), the entire trip is rip roaring laughter!

The cast plays many roles and all are quite good, however, Michael Urie and Leslie Rodriguez Kritzer(The Lady of the Lake), steal the show. Urie is one of the best Broadway has to offer today; having seen him in various role over the years, Urie always give the audience a treat with his acting. Kritzer's singing, her acting were outstanding.

As the King trudges through a not- yet-united-kingdom, he is helped along by his neglected sidekick Patsy (Christopher Fitzgerald). Faced with zany characters (some oversized; to the Ni' and onto a killer rabbit). We meet mud-covered mothers and an amputee swordsman. Adding to this farce, even the French get spoofed and it maybe the highlight of the afternoon.

What has been added to this "Spamalot" is the frustrated historian and it is well played by Ethan Slater (SpongeBob the Musical), wimpy Prince Herbert, the killer bunny and many other wacky characters. Slater, like Urie gives us great business, funny action that brings the show to higher levels.

The design in this musical is decent (Paul Tate dePoo lll) as is the projections. I thought the projection here never changes the locations well enough. In the design it merely supports the show rather than being just functional it never raises the show to a bigger brighter visual. Here we get a missed opportunity to separate itself from the "Spamelot" we saw back in 2005.

In Jen Caprio's costume design, Cory Pattak's lighting and Kai Harada's sound design we get full support to the musical. Where scenic and projection just exist, the aforementioned really bring great effect and support to this two plus hours of entertainment.

In a spoof such as this, the music needs to be as memorable as the plot itself. Songs like :"I Am Not Dead Yet", "All In One", "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life", "You Won't Succeed on Broadway", "Diva's Lament" and "I'm All Alone" are all memorable and funny.

By way of entertainment, "Spamalot" is great-good-fun and certainly something we can all us in these times; pure escapism and for the most part, the jokes land well. The actors are versatile and talented and they bring excitement and lite fun to their performances. The show never is slow and moves at a rapid pace throughout. Comparing it to when it first came to Broadway hurts this show in that it had a different director, different actors but I promise you that you will not be disappointed seeing this rendition.

Broadway, Spamalot, Some Like It Hot, A Beautiful Noise, The Shark is Broken, Back To The Future, Hamilton, Aladdin, The Lion King, Michael Urie, Tim Curry, David Hyde Pierce, Harry Potter and The Cursed Child, Tony Awards, www.broadwayworld.com, Mann About Town, Metropolitan Magazine, My Life Publications, Nimbus Magazine, WACE Entertainment, Gimme Shelter Productions, LLC.

[soft-for-them]

Plant pot ashtrays - Billy Hargrove x plus size reader

Summary: You work part-time as a gardener, often weeding and watering the many plants around Hawkins. However, you have a problem with people, people like Billy Hargrove, using your plants as an ashtray.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: This was a request but I went a bit overboard... There will not be a part two to this, sorry. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Hey!” you shout as you look up from watering some plants.

The ‘hey!’ isn’t a hello kind of ‘hey!’, it isn’t the type of welcome that you do when you see a friend across the road and shout to get their attention, neither is it a small but happy ‘hey!’ that is a bit too loud because the person you’re greeting is right next you – no, you’re shouting it with annoyance in your voice, your normally calm voice bellowing down the street for all to hear.

“HEY!-“ you shout again as you hastily place your big green plastic watering can down, making sure to place it in between the standing flower boxes along the pavement that line the street so any passers-bys don’t trip over it, “- HARGROVE!”

Your sandals, not the fashionable or feminine type of sandals with golden ankle straps or little heels like the women’s magazines show but a dad kind of sandals that are khaki in colour with Velcro and grippy soles clip clap on the scorching hot pavement as you hurry up to the one and only Billy Hargrove.

Thankfully no one is walking on the pavement as you hurry up to him for you must look like a raging bull ready and angry at the curly haired man.

You wear baggy overalls are green like you thumb, covered in mud and water stains from pulling weeds and watering plants all morning. The thin fabric billows from how fast you speed walk over to the trouble maker (and fellow class mate) Billy Hargrove.

Billy, like he is most of the time, is leaning on his car no thoughts in his head as he pauses and looks over at you.

His tanned face looks slightly red in the shining sun though you’re not sure whether it’s a flush of anger appearing because he’s being shouted at by a lowly part time gardener or if he just forgot to put on the factor fifty this morning.

Billy leans there staring just about to stub out his second cigarette on your yet to be watered pot of Gerbera daisies but his fingers pause as he sees the pissed off look on your face.

He smirks with such mirth as you skid to a halt in front of him.

“Hey-“ he begins with a suave tone that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end from anger and something else you can’t quite pin point.

You cut him off immediately.

“Hey!” you say in a deep mocking voice much like a child would do in a petty playground fight, “Why don’t you and your fucking friends stop using my flowers as ashtrays and-and!”

You want to say ‘do something with your life’ because the popular kids like Billy are always just hanging around littering, shouting at you and generally being a nuisance.

You’ve already had to scoop out multiple handfuls of cigarette ash and candy wrappers from your plants this morning alone that and some random kid shouted at you some unsavoury words which hasn’t improved you mood.

Whilst not all of the trash and trash talk is from Billy and his little group of bullies, they are always the ones who burry their litter in your plant beds right in front of your eyes.

Sometimes you wonder if they know it’s you who spends their free time tending the town’s plants or if they just see a fat girl who they can tease and bother just for the fun of it.

Either way, they really don’t give two flying fucks.

Just last week a pretty blonde cheerleader who had allegedly fucked Hargrove behind the bleachers, the same bottled blonde who told to whole school about it despite Hargrove avoiding her like the plague, looked you right in the eyes and shoved a half-eaten hotdog into your bed of lavender.

There was a bin right next to her!

At least the middle schoolers try to be sneaky about burring their rubbish unlike Hargrove and co. who don’t give a fuck abut you or your plants.

Even so you know it would be too harsh even for you to say something like ‘get a life’ to Billy knowing who he lives with so instead you just grab Billy’s hand by the wrist so he can’t lower it further down towards your daises.

Taking the cigarette with your other hand you drop the burnt out but down a storm drain near rear tire of Billy’s car.

“It’s that simple Billy.” You say as you point to the drain, your other hand still holding onto his wrist without realising it, “Not in my daises please!”

You take a deep breath, your eyes closing and reopening as you squint up to him.

You really need to calm down.

“This is cute.” Billy smugly says as his hand trapped by your clutched hand fiddles with a small chain bracelet dangling around your wrist.

His long fingers toy with a little green cactus charm that has an overly cartoon spikes and an angry face embossed onto it.

His face smug and you feel like punching it.

“Nope, nope, nope.” You mutter as you rip your hand away from his, your dad sandals stopping you from tripping over as you rush back to your plants.

You feel a rage built up as you pick up your watering can, Billy shouting something back at you, something you block out with the sound of water trickling out the watering can.

Family life isn’t the best for you, there isn’t really a prospect of going to university not even a community one, even if there was a chance you could you can’t afford it so gardening is the next best thing for you.

Funny enough, you moved to Hawkins around the same time Billy and his family did so the odd thing you’ve got going on with Billy has been happening ever since you’ve met him.

Whilst he’s stuck with an abusive dad, passive step mum and cool little sister, you’re left in the hands of some distant cousin who isn’t a creep but can’t really afford to keep himself afloat let alone you as well.

With no parents around and the looming threat of paying rent to stay in the only town you feel somewhat safe in (despite the rumours of monsters lurking around) you cousin had begun carting you off after school with him to his work.

Somehow that led to him getting you a job as a gardener, the same job his dad got him when he was just a teen, and despite disliking having to work whilst still being at school you’ve grown to love pulling weeds and planting pretty flowers in your spare time.

Most weekends you’re working; whether it be mowing a rich person’s lawn or like you’re doing now, tending to the town’s plants.

You’ve come to realise you love the job. It’s not much in the grand scheme of things but you’ve found your calling. However, there’s always people like Hargrove and his friends who try to fuck up a good thing by hassling and disrupting your work.

It’s been half an hour since the cigarette incident and you’re still red hot with anger.

Ever since then Billy has been following you around like a bee attracted to a fake flower on a Hawaiian shirt or to a brightly coloured sun hat.

One moment you’re watering the flowers and he’s moved to the bench in between the Tulips, the next moment you’re pulling up rubbish from the hedge rows and then he’s just there near you leaning on the wall with another cigarette in his mouth.

Each and every step he’s been following you.

To think you bunked off helping your cousin tend to the garden of the Harrington’s because of a stupid crush only to have Billy follow you around instead.

“You want anything Billy?” you demand as you quickly turn around to the man trying to act natural as he watches you from under the shade of a shop front.

Your voice is filled with bother, the frustration dripping from you lips like the beads of sweat on your brow.

It’s really too hot today.

“Nothing.” He raises his hands in a mock surrender as ash falls from his cigarette to the pavement.

“Well!” you feel like you’re going to explode as you look on at Billy.

You many have a tiny thing for Steve Harington or that kid from the DnD club or Nancy from your maths class or- ok you find a lot of people to be hot and you’d happily date anyone of them but Billy Hargrove is something else.

He makes you mad but not in bad ‘I want to punch you in the face’ kind of way.

He maybe a bully, the leader of the bullies that roam the high school but he’s always tolerant of you, he’s never actually said a bad thing about you.

That combined with the smooth tanned skin and the tufts of curly beach blonde hair you just feel like an overheating car engine around him.

“All you and you friends do is stand around loitering and shouting, just go do something instead of bothering me!”

Your little rambling outburst whilst you kneel down and dig into a potted plant weeding out the weeds and picking off any unwanted slugs sounds harsh but your words are actually just tired and fed up sounding.

The heat is getting to you, the amount of work you have to do in the blazing hot sun is getting you worked up but most of all the tall tanned and handsome Billy is making you feel some kind of way.

Billy puffs a bloom of grey smoke out of his lips. He raises the but of the cigarette up showing it to you, and for a moment you think he’s going to stub it out into your plants but then he drops it to the ground and stomps it out with his foot.

You let out a breath of relief.

“If you’re going to hang around-” you begin as you begin to calm just a bit you voice quieter and more controlled, “- got water those Daises next to your car.”

You half expect Billy to laugh at you, maybe call out a sharp remark about how it’s ‘your job not mine’ but all he does is walk over to you and pick up the green watering can next to your le.

“Yes ma’am.” He says low and slow as he hovers near you.

He’s half bent down, the heavy watering can no hassle for him, his eyes looking straight into yours.

“Any time now.” You throw back, not wanting to deal with the fact that the hot angry feeling you have for Billy Hargrove might actually be a new crush forming.

[sinner-as-saint]

Let Me Love You.

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader AU.

Run-through: Things happened between you and your boss over a weekend recently; while on a business trip. Boundaries were crossed, lines were blurred – rather salaciously. Following this; you decide to resign from your dream job because you couldn’t handle the guilt of having been so unethical. So vulnerable and open. Neither could you handle his burning stare at work, nor the craving of being under him each time you looked at him. So you decide to leave before you ruin your own career and further. But then, your boss shows up at your doorstep – determined to make you realize that this isn’t so bad after all…

Themes: smut, fluff, ceo!bucky (because I miss him)

You felt awful as you stepped into your apartment.

Sighing as you looked around; thinking about how the job you just quit had paid for this lavish home you owned currently. Removing your shoes by the door, dropping your bag and keys beside them you lazily crossed your spacious living room and stepped into the main balcony.

Given you were high up, the view you had of the city was to die for. The sun was going down, and usually you loved sunsets but you couldn’t appreciate this one as much as you wanted to. You were stressed; now jobless.

You thought back to the past week you had just hustled through. Monday was weird; he avoided you like the plague. Tuesday was the same, except you caught him staring in your direction while in a rather important meeting. Wednesday, he still didn’t say a word – except for his usual demands which being his PA you had to meet. Thursday he didn’t come to work; which then gave you more time to think about everything which happened recently, allowing you more time to feel guilty and weird.

And today, given it was Friday he was the busiest he’s been all week. Yet despite that, he managed to send you looks which spoke volumes even in crowded rooms. And you couldn’t take it anymore. You believed you were someone who wouldn’t be able to mix work and pleasure and find a healthy balance, so for the sake of your own peace of mind; you produced a resignation letter and placed it on his desk when he wasn’t in his office. And you left for the day.

You knew he always lingered at his office for a while longer on Fridays. So you were sure that by now he must have found your letter. You wondered if he felt just as awkward and weird as you did, and if so, then he’d accept your resignation without any hesitation.

You sighed one more time, taking in the cool air and the orange-pinkish sky. You walked back inside and decided that soaking in warm water and essential oils would make you feel a little better. So that’s what you went for.

 Thoughts of him filled your head as you soaked in the warm bath water. Your boss. James Buchanan Barnes; powerful name for an equally powerful man. He was the kind of person you couldn’t forget even if you tried. Respect, fame, wealth, authority, power; he had it all.

And recently, just a week ago, he had taken over you as well…

-Flashback-

Friday morning you came to work and found out that you would be accompanying your boss on a short business trip. You didn’t make a fuss, even if it meant sacrificing your days off. The paycheck you received each month made up perfectly well for it.

Paris for weekend, to attend a business conference didn’t sound so bad after all.

“Sir, I’ve just been notified that you’ve cancelled the hotel reservations?” you questioned while scrolling through your mails. While you were just a little confused by this, the man in front of you was clearly not.

Sat across you on the dark seat; well-groomed as always – dark suit, perfect hair, perfect face, strong jaw and strong built. He looked like he could be on a magazine cover. Pure, drop dead gorgeous male. Many of your friends often asked you how you kept your calm and composure around him, and how could you not want to jump his bones all the time. To which you answered; you didn’t see your handsome boss in that light.

But oh did you lie.

You were human. And you did find your boss to be super attractive just like the rest of the world did. But did you do anything about it? No. Firstly, that would be highly unprofessional. Secondly, he was way out of your league. Still, it was hard being around a man this handsome. Knowing he was single and available made it worse.

“I did.” he answered, just as confidently as he did everything else. “It’s just one night, Y/N. We’ll stay at my penthouse.” He stated.

You nodded and replied back to your assistant who had initially emailed you about this sudden change. ‘We’ll stay at my penthouse’…

You had shared residence before. Once you spent the night at his mansion because of work load. Then another time you two shared a cabin while on a trip. Once you shared a hotel room because separate rooms weren’t available. But this, today seemed a little different. And you couldn’t place a finger on what it was.

It didn’t rub you the wrong way or anything. He just seemed so cheery, which was unlike the normally slightly grumpy man. But then again, who were you to question his decisions? So you went along.

You two landed in Paris on Saturday morning. The conference was to be held on the same evening, followed by a formal party of some sort, then the two of you would be making your way back home by Sunday evening. Quite a tame weekend… until it wasn’t.

 Throughout the whole conference, you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from across the room. Meanwhile you were talking to an acquaintance – legal advisor of one of the many businessmen who were attending the same conference as your boss. Steve was a friend of a friend but you two were currently bonding more and more due to work.

And little did you know, that Bucky hated it.

He was watching. He’s always watching you. Not in a creepy manner, in a protective way. As a woman, you were somewhat oblivious to the effect you had on people when you entered a room. You never noticed it, but your boss did.

Bucky knew how every man turned their heads to look at you. How every woman envied you. And it was never about what you wore, or how you did your hair. It was always about how you carried yourself, how you walked so confidently, how you were always polite and proper. And so beautiful.

As much as he liked showing you off, Bucky hated it when he wasn’t the only one who had all your attention. Like right now. He clenched his jaw as he studied how this man approached you. Blonde hair, tall and muscular – Bucky hated him immediately. He hated him a little more after he saw how the guy hugged you; a lingering hug which Bucky never got. Then he hated him a little more when he saw how you dragged your hands down the guy’s arm, refusing to let go of him.

You never touched him like that. Bucky asked someone close by and he was told that the guy you were talking to was someone named Steve Rogers, and he was a lawyer and an acquaintance of yours.

Hmm.

He tried to look away but he couldn’t. Bucky envied the guy talking to you. He didn’t like how close he was standing to you. He didn’t like how he kept his hands at your elbows so gently, caging you, keeping you to himself. He hated it.

 Then he asked you about it on the elevator, as you two made your way up to his penthouse to get changed and ready for the party later.

“You know Rogers?” he asked out of nowhere. His tone just as serious and cold as always.

“Yes. He’s… a friend.” You smiled innocently, thinking back to how you and Steve had successfully broken the ice earlier.

Silence.

 You each took a room inside his lavish penthouse apartment. You immediately loved the place. You had about two hours before the party so there was no need to rush. You took your time, yet your mind couldn’t help but drift towards how your boss has been acting in the past hours. First he was all cheery and warm, and now he’s back to his grumpy self.

Oh well.

You stepped out of your room just in time, your boss was waiting by the foyer dressed in a signature, all black, 3-piece suit. He looked devilishly handsome.

“You look lovely, Y/N.” He said softly as you walked towards him. You couldn’t help but smile and tried to hide your face by looking down at the marble floor. Before you could recover from his rare compliment, he reached for your hand and walked the two of your towards the elevator again.

You noticed it then. The shift between the two of you.

The party was amazing. Lovely people, lovely music, nice conversations; what more does one need? Then again, you could still feel a pair of eyes on you. At some point, you dared to look up and you made eye contact with your boss.

He was staring with an unreadable expression on his face. You shook it off and went back to the conversation you were currently part of, but you could tell he hadn’t stopped staring at you.

 You two met on the elevator again after the party, on your way up for the night.

“You and Rogers seem close.” He pointed out.

You were surprised at the tone he used – that of disgust and anger. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

He scoffed, then turned to you. “Is something going on between you two?” Same tone as before.

Your eyes widened. “No. No, what makes you say that?” part of you wondered why the hell was he so suddenly interested in your personal life.

“Just asking.”

You couldn’t help it. “Are you alright, Mr. Barnes? You haven’t been yourself in the past-,”

He cut you off abruptly. By backing you into the corner of the elevator, the cold metal pressing against your back as his warm hand held you gently at your waist.

“Am I alright?” he mocked in that authoritative voice of his. “No, Miss Y/N. I’m not alright.” He confessed. “I’m not alright with you being so close to me, yet not being able to touch you. I’m not alright with seeing other men making you smile,” he inched his face closer you yours, “making you laugh, dance with you, touch you like I can’t. I hate it.”

His warm breath fanned your face. And as the metal cage got higher and higher, your heartbeat increased in the same tempo. Racing. Rushing. Your thoughts were a mess. Your body was tingling, he was so close. Too close. And you could feel yourself giving into him already.

And you did eventually.

“Then what’s stopping you?” you asked in a whisper, and you heard his little chuckle under his breath. This could be a wrong idea, but it felt right. You looked up into his piercing stormy blue eyes and you saw it; the hunger, the desire, the need.

You were sure yours mirrored the same emotions. Bucky pulled away just for a second, to press the key to stop the elevator from moving upwards any further. Then he turned to you again. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered against your parted lips, barely touching them with his own but the proximity was enough to make you lightheaded.

You nodded quickly and his mouth was on yours immediately. His lips moved against yours perfectly. He slipped his tongue past your lips and stroked the top of your mouth, driving you crazy. His kiss was just how you imagined it would be; hot, passionate, and exciting.

Your hands found their way into his hair and your fingers ran through his soft locks. He pushed his muscular body into yours even more and you gasped as you felt how close he actually was. His body heat wrapping around you.

His hands slowly reached up and slid the straps of your satin gown down your shoulders, letting it fall and bunch around your waist. He had been wanting to do that all night, especially since he saw you dancing with that guy Steve.

Bucky smirked at the sight of the flimsy, lacy lingerie you had on; which he was sure he could tear off your body in less than a second. And he did, allowing the thin material to fall to the floor. He gently touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and kissing your skin. His lips trailing down your neck; kissing, licking and biting.

His mouth didn’t leave your skin as his hands slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. His hand slipped into your underwear with no shame, his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He chuckled upon feeling just how aroused you were. “So perfect…” he whispered.

He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went. You whimpered quietly against him; your gown barely covered your body. But Bucky was nowhere near complaining. In fact, he had been thinking about what you looked like under that dress since the first time he saw you this evening.

His hand gently wrapped around your throat. He gave it a little squeeze and an involuntary, playful smile formed on your face. His smirk grew, and so did the fire in him. “Like it when I choke you, huh doll?” he spoke, dragging the tip of his nose along your jaw as his other hand slipped under your skirt and rubbed your clothed core. He couldn’t take it any longer. “I need to have you.” he growled. “Now.”

He pushed his two fingers past your entrance with ease and moaned right in your ear as he felt your wet and warm walls immediately welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the right spots which made you weak in the knees. You bucked your hips against his hand involuntarily, and he chuckled as you moaned out loud while he touched you.

Feeling more confident than earlier, you quickly unbuttoned his pants, palming him through his underwear and feeling his erection. You smirked to yourself as he grunted the moment you touched him.

“I want you…” you mumbled breathlessly. All your worries and overthinking left behind, you wanted him bad. And that’s all you could think of at the moment.

Bucky smirked. He lowered his pants and underwear, then he hurried in pulling down your underwear, letting it all fall and pool around your ankles. You stepped out of it and Bucky picked you up by your thighs and kissed you deeply while holding you between him and the metal surface tightly.

Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms held on to him tightly. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you whimpered through the kiss. Bucky needed to be in you already, all he wanted was to hear you scream his name as you cum around him. So he wasted no time in aligning his throbbing tip to your dripping wet entrance.

He pushed himself into you; stretching you out. His nails digging into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours scratching at his shoulders as he filled you up; making you whine and moan as he went. You were both gasping by the time he filled you up entirely. His body didn’t feel as foreign as you expected. You two fit perfectly.

Bucky started rocking in and out of you, without wasting any time. You felt all of him; your walls clenched around his thick cock as he started out with slow strokes and then gradually sped up into you. You felt all of him, the bumpy and the velvety skin of his length. He was perfect as he stroked your walls with his pulsating cock. You were a moaning mess in no time.  

His strong arms supported you up by grabbing you at the curve of your ass; holding you against him, as he sped up into you; showing you how much he missed you. He pushed his head into the crook of your neck and swore under his breath, all while occasionally mumbling how much he loves you and how good you feel wrapped around him.

He fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls. Your hand slid into his hair and you tugged on it each time he pushed into you. You soon felt the familiar pressure forming; pressing inside you as the familiar warmth spread all over your body. You moaned wantonly.

Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure; your mind a foggy mess. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you, and he soon quickened his pace; earning even more moans and mewls from you.

He pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the wall with each thrust; it hurt just a little. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused and the sounds of your skin clapping against each other – it was all too sinful.

He moaned right into your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back like it always did no matter where he took you. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you relentlessly. The pleasure built nicely as he took you higher… and higher… and higher. Until you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.  

And that was one of the many times he made you cum around him that night…

 -End of flashback-

 Fuck…

You shivered in the warm water at the thought of him deep inside you; how perfect he felt, and how you never wanted to leave that bed with him in it. But then, you thought about how wrong that was; how you shouldn’t have gotten so intimate and personal with your boss. It was wrong, and unethical and a terrible mistake. But it felt good…

Stepping out of your bathroom, wrapped in a soft robe, you felt chills all over your body. Not because of the temperature, but because it felt as though you suddenly weren’t alone in your home. You panicked for a moment. Your heart racing, your thoughts racing faster.

Then you sensed it.

Sensed him.

He was here.

 “Miss Y/N.” He spoke in that damn voice which could make you drop to your knees in less than a second.

Yet you managed to maintain your composure as you slowly turned around to face him. Realization hit you a little late, and you gasped under your breath when you finally saw him standing in the middle of your bedroom. Your initial reaction was to hug your robe tighter around your body.

He looked flawless and powerful as always. Hands shoved in his pockets; accentuating his broad shoulders. That gorgeous smirk on his face. Flawless hair. Flawless face. Bucky smirked. “Oh don’t hide from me. I’ve seen it all, haven’t I?” he teased so effortlessly.

You felt your face getting hotter under his intense gaze. “How did you… how-,”

He cut off your rambling. “I own the building, doll.” he answered like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Right. Of course he owns your apartment building. He also owns half the city.

There was an air of arrogance around him at all times. And you tried so hard to hate it, but you couldn’t. It suited him; the arrogance, the power, the authority. And he sure knew how and when to use it.

You cleared your throat as you kept your eyes focused on the ground, rather than look into his stormy blues ones because they were a new weakness of yours. “You shouldn’t be here.” You mumbled, not hating that he was here.

He scoffed. “Oh?” he raised an eyebrow at you and took a few steps towards you. You were surprisingly not hysterical about the fact that this handsome man found his way into your home out of nowhere. He walked over to you, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him.

You had no other choice but to look up into his ocean blue eyes and you could feel yourself melting already. He pulled you closer and leaned in, gently kissing along your jaw repeatedly. You closed your eyes and tried your hardest not to sigh in pleasure or moan as you felt the softness of his lips and the roughness of his stubble altogether.

“I’ve missed you.” he whispered against your skin, stopping for a moment and kissed you at the corner of your mouth. His arms circled around you, holding you close to him. Your arms circled around him as well, slowly. You realized you had missed him as well. His warmth, his voice, his mouth. All of him.

And just like that, he took over your very being again. One touch of his lips and you were under his spell with no intention of making it out anytime soon. “I missed you too…” you whispered breathlessly as he kissed your lips gently.

But those few words from you triggered something in him. An irritation he had carried inside since he saw that letter of yours on his desk. Overflowing emotions he couldn’t handle; due to which he was here in the first place.

“Yeah?” he whispered through the kiss, then slide his hand into your hair and tugged on it to pull your face away from his. He clenched his jaw as he looked down at you. He was conflicted, should he be mad that you even dared to think you could just leave him, or should he just fuck some sense into you? “Yet you dared to leave me your resignation with no warning?” Oh. “Huh? Is that how it is now, you think you get to decide everything?”

Oh. So he was mad.

“I didn’t mean-,”

He kept going. “Shut up, babygirl.” He spoke softly. “Now you listen to me,” he inched closer, gently biting your lower lip, “You’re not leaving me. You’re not resigning. You’re not going anywhere.” He stated, then pulled away to look at you again.

There was a fire in his deep blue eyes. “We can’t keep doing this.” You tried to come up with something. An excuse. You were looking for an excuse.

“Why not?”

“It’s wrong.”

He scoffed and then smirked again. “Is it? Does being with me feel so wrong to you now, huh?” he cooed, knowing it was only a matter of another minute or two before you give into him. “That wasn’t the case this past weekend, was it?” He moved the two of you backwards, towards your bed in the middle of the room.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for too long now. But you still tried, in vain. You sighed loudly, wrapped in his strong embrace. “You’re my boss.”

He chuckled. “I know that.”

“Exactly.”

“What?” he questioned, already untying your robe as he stopped at the end of your bed.

“You know what. How are we supposed to be professional at work if we’re sleeping together?” you asked.

He smirked looking down at you. “Then let’s not be professional.”

You sighed again. “It’s-,”

He cut you off with a kiss again, sliding your robe down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. “Shh.” And just like that, you melted under his touch. “It’s okay babygirl, let me take care of you.”

He pushed you down on your bed and held your stare as he undressed himself; smirking as he watched how you grew more and more desperate with each item of clothing he took off. He hovered on top of you in no time.

Bucky lowered his face; pressing his forehead onto yours gently, while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

“Fuck…”

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

He removed himself and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and leaned into your ear. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you.

“Thought you could just leave me, huh? Thought I would let you?” he mumbled right in your ear as he fucked you relentlessly. “You thought I would let you go? Let someone else touch you, pleasure you, fuck you like this? Did you babygirl?” he growled. “Answer me!”

You whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. “No… please I didn’t-” you were breathless. You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. Your body moved against his like a rag doll.

He growled at how your walls clenched around him. “What? You didn’t what? You didn’t think I’d come back looking for you? You thought I would just let you go because you asked for it?” he accidentally let out a moan, followed by swear words. “You think you make the rules here, doll?”

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes were wild and fierce; staring deep into your soul. His gaze made you tremble in pleasure. He looked so powerful. Broad and strong, hovering above you, his cock buried deep in you. Looking down at you like he owned you.

He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

Your legs trembled as you lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and in the haze he was in, he managed to mumble right in your ear about how good you felt. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

 At some point, right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he removed himself from you and flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips. He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the thrill each time he felt himself thrusting deep within you.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Can you feel me deep within you?” he boasted as he gently squeezed the side of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

“Please…” You could only moan and whimper in response while he kept pounding into you incessantly. You felt him quicken his pace as he chased his own orgasm. And finally he let you, and you came undone all around him – moaning his name out loud.

-

You woke up an hour later, the sky was darker and you felt a lot better than you had all week. You turned to your side and found your handsome boss passed out next to you. A smile formed on your face involuntarily.

“Don’t just look, you can touch too.” His gruff voice spoke up a second later, his eyes still closed. You chuckled and snuggled closer to him.

“So what now?” you asked, wrapping an arm around his bare torso. His body heat was something you were quickly getting used to.

He took a deep breath, smiled and lazily reached over to place a kiss on your forehead. “Now you let me love you.”