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so-writing · 4 years

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Things You Never Show - Rafe Cameron x Reader x JJ Maybank (Outer Banks)

I was in my BSB feels, listening to ‘Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely’ and this happened. Not proofread so mistakes most likely

Summary: You are a pogue dating Rafe Cameron and, as expected, chaos ensues.

You could be the center of attention at a party and still feel ignored.

Rafe was a good boyfriend, at best, half of the time. When the two of you were alone, he was more than happy to fulfill your every desire and make you feel like you were on top of the world. He made sure you were satisfied in every way and it was heaven to you.

But when you were out and about, like at a kegger in the boneyard, Rafe acted like a stranger.

“You know he treats you like shit, right?”

A figure you didn’t immediately recognize dropped down beside you on the edge of the dock you were seated on, dipping your toes into the water.

“He’s an asshole and you deserve better.”

You were about to protest until you looked toward the stranger and met the eyes of JJ Maybank. The boy you’d pined after for years when you were younger. Even though you were past your crush, you couldn’t shake his gaze.

“Cameron is a piece of shit, you know.”

“He’s not,” you defended, “he just doesn’t know any better.”

“He doesn’t know that he shouldn’t flirt carelessly with other girls when he’s obviously locked down? He’s an asshole.”

You should’ve protested JJ’s musings but you knew he was right and that there was no defending Rafe.

“Maybe, but he’s my asshole.”

It was a weak argument, confirmed by the chuckle JJ released before he took a hit of his blunt.

“There are about a million people in the world that would treat you better than Rafe, but you’re stuck on baby money for reasons I couldn’t possibly understand.”

JJ turned his head and blew smoke away from you before he stood up, ruffled your hair and made his way back to the party.

The friendship between you and the other pogues had existed for as long as you could remember and you weren’t quite sure when JJ became someone you looked at just a little differently. You harbored secret feelings that you were never able to spill and they eventually faded when you matured some and started noticing other boys.

Rafe Cameron was one of those boys. He didn’t attend Kildare Public, his parenting opting instead to send him to the fancy private school that all the kooks seemed to attend, but he regularly showed up at boneyard parties and that was when he first caught your eye.

Two years older than you and a haughty asshole, he was exactly what you thought you wanted. Rafe being and kook and you a pogue, you assumed he wouldn’t be interested at all but that wasn’t the case and not much time had gone by until you were spending your nights in his bed.

The first time you went public as a couple was over a year ago and you were now comfortable in feeling lonely a lot of the time, despite what felt like the entire world knowing you were attached to Rafe Cameron.

“But he’s my asshole,” you said to yourself when JJ had gone, “what a fucking stupid excuse.”

Feeling dumb and embarrassed, you pulled your feet out of the water and slid into your sandals. Rafe might have noticed your absence and you weren’t feeling up to getting into an argument over where you could have been, not that he cared anyway.

You found him sitting on a log around one of the few bonfires at the party with his arm wrapped around a girl you didn’t recognize. He was obviously drunk, maybe a little high as well, and you knew you couldn’t say anything to either of them without facing the consequences later.

He laughed at something Kelce said as he wrapped his arm tighter around the girl, pulling her close enough to kiss her forehead. This behavior was new to you. He always flirted with randoms in public, giving them a hug or rub on the back but Rafe had never put his lips on someone else, that you knew of.

“See that?”

JJ’s breath ghosted across your neck, he stood behind you and placed his palms on your shoulders, “he’s an asshole. You know you can do better.”

“JJ,” you shook him off and turned around to meet his eyes, “this is just how he is. He doesn’t give a shit about that girl.”

“He gives a shit about you though, right?”

“Yes,” you bit the inside of your cheek as a reminder to keep your composure, “he does.”

He laughed, an easy chuckle that made you equal parts furious and peaceful, while grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the rest of the pogues sat around a neighboring bonfire.

“Raise your hand if you think this one can do better than Cameron?”

Everyone around the fire, including Rafe’s own sister Sarah, raised their arms above their heads.

“You guys are not supportive at all.”

The laugh that followed your statement was supposed be happy and jokey but it left your lips hollow and angry.

“No,” Sarah began, “we’re not. He’s my brother and I love him but he is a grade A piece of shit when it comes to the way he treats women.”

She unwrapped herself from John B and stood up, walking over to you and taking your hands in hers, “you do not deserve that. You are better than him.”

“Guys,” you gently squeezed her hands, “I don’t need this. I’m fine. I know how he is.”

“That is the second time I’ve heard you say that tonight,” JJ piped up, “and I haven’t believed it either time.”

His tone was almost cocky, he too had quite a bit to drink, and you weren’t about to get into this with your friends in the middle of a party where everyone could hear you.

“John B, can you give a ride home? I just really want to leave right now.”

The brunette gave you a quick nod of his head and the two of you walked in silence away from the beach and to the Twinkie waiting in the parking lot. You both entered the van in silence and he pushed the key into the ignition, bringing the vehicle to life.

John B drove toward your house without a word, something you were more grateful for than you could say. He pulled into your driveway and you noticed that no lights were on the house. Your parents were either out for the evening or fast asleep, either one was good, it meant you didn’t have to face their innocent questions about your night and your boyfriend.

“Hey,” John B put the Twinkie in park, “you know I’m not here to judge you or your relationship but I just want to say this.”

You prepared yourself for another bashing of Rafe. They happened pretty frequently, especially when JJ was around.

“Rafe is not my favorite person, I’ll never hide that. I’m worried about you. I’m worried this rich douchebag is taking advantage of you and sucking the life out of you. I just want you to know that we’re here. We love you, we have you. Please say something if you need any of us.”

Your heart warmed at his words as you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned across the center console to give him a hug, “thank you John B, I needed that more than you know.”

Sliding from the passenger seat, you closed the door behind you and turned to give John B a wave before going inside and heading straight to your room. You were used to your friends hating on Rafe but what John B said about the situation had you seriously thinking about your relationship with the charming kook.

The words ‘sucking the life out of you’ repeated themselves in your head as you lay on your side trying to fall asleep.

Your constantly buzzing phone finally pulled you from slumber at, you checked the time before responding to anything else, 2:36am.

Rafe (11:04) where are you?

Rafe (11:16) seriously

Rafe (11:41) what the fuck

Rafe (12:21) you left with JJ? Really? Maybank? REALLY

Rafe (1:18) you went home with Maybank so I’m going home with a blonde too

Rafe (2:04) I’m sorry. I should have paid more attention to you tonight

Rafe (2:17) baby please I’m sorry

Rafe (2:36) call me when you wake up. I love you.

Normally, when this happened, you would be wooed by Rafe’s apology but John B’s words swan around in your head as you noted the forty-six minutes that passed between Rafe claiming he’d take someone home and his apology.

“Fuck this,” you whispered into to your empty room as you tossed your phone to the floor and rolled over to fall asleep once again.

It was 2:46 in the afternoon when you woke up. You’d slept longer than you intended and when you grabbed your phone from the ground you where met with a marathon of messages and calls.

Not counting what he sent the night before, Rafe had called you 14 times and sent 38 text messages. Most of them were angry, some of them apologetic, but the theme was clear: he hated JJ.

You scrolled past the many Rafe’s and found your conversation with JJ.

“J, please text me back as soon as you get this.”

You knew Rafe and you knew he would go after JJ and he would hurt him if he could. Staring at your phone sitting in your hands for about a minute, you decided you couldn’t wait and called him.

JJ’s phone rang and rang and just as you were about to hang up, he answered.

“Hey, sorry, was outside with John B, what’s up?”

“JJ,” you breathed a sigh of relief, “Rafe thinks I went home with you. Watch out for him, I have no doubt he’s on a warpath.”

“Him being on a warpath means he has to publicly declare that you’re someone he actually gives a fuck about, he’s not going to do that or come after me.”

“J, please,” you ran a hand through your hair, “please just be careful.”

“Always am. See you tonight?”

“Yeah,” you had completely forgotten about Kiara’s birthday party, “see you then.”

Walking into the Wreck, things looked mostly normal. The main dining room was full of patrons eating and socializing. The restaurant was on a short wait but you slid past the people in line and made toward the smaller of the two decks off the side of the restaurant.

There were only three tables on the small deck and tonight they were all pushed together for Kiara’s celebration. The usual suspects were present: JJ, Pope, John B and Sarah. Kie’s mom had taken the night off so she was staying permanently while her dad planned to pop in during his free moments.

“You showed,” JJ shouted as he slid out his chair and trotted toward you, pulling you into a hug.

“Of course I did, I would never miss this. Happy birthday Kiara,” you shook off JJ and moved to hug Kie, wrapping your arms tight around her small frame.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and Kie pulled away enough to give you a questioning look.

“It’s your birthday and I’m pissed at him. All messages remain unread tonight.”

While you enjoyed yourself eating seafood and cake with your friends, you had no idea how serious Rafe was taking your radio silence. You hadn’t responded to any of his texts or calls and the last time you spoke was before the kegger the previous night.

Rafe (7:46) Where are you? We haven’t talked at all today

Rafe (8:04) Seriously what the fuck

Rafe (8:37) There you are. Sitting to next to Maybank huh

Rafe (8:49) Fuck it

The messages remained unread and when your chair was harshly pulled away from the table and your friends began yelling did you realize what was happening.

“Rafe! What the fuck?!” Sarah was the loudest, her words cutting through the air.

“I’m tired of this and I’m done. She’s coming with me.”

You hoped against hope that JJ wouldn’t say anything but you knew better. He never failed to come to your rescue but now wasn’t the time you needed him to do so.

“You don’t get to claim someone when you’re fucking literally everybody else.”

Rafe’s hands were no longer on your body or the chair you were seated in, instead he was charging toward JJ. The blonde had removed himself from the chair next to you and was now standing his ground, nose to nose with Rafe Cameron.

They began to push each other and one particularly hard shove from JJ sent Rafe into the table, causing everyone to jump up and back away from the fight.

“Guys, please! Not here!”

You were nearly in tears, your words falling on deaf ears and they continued to throw punches and accusations.

Time seemed to slow as you took in everything happening in front of you. Kiara’s mom had her arms wrapped Kie as she ushered her back into the restaurant. Pope and John B were both standing in front of Sarah, blocking her off but ready to jump in and defend their friend if they needed to. Various pieces of seafood were scattered across the small deck and Kiara’s cake was destroyed, icing and cake bits stomped into the floor from all the commotion.

Everything had gone wrong. You never went home with JJ and you should have made that clear to Rafe. You should’ve responded to his texts earlier, explaining and begging his forgiveness even though you didn’t really want it.

You ruined Kiara’s birthday and maybe the reputation of The Wreck itself. JJ and Rafe had been pulled apart now but it was too late to salvage anything. Slowly making your way toward the railing, you jumped over the side and landed a few feet below in the soft mud a few feet away from the water.

It didn’t matter that your shoes were thick with mud, you trampled out of the swamp and toward the road. When your shoes were light enough, you broke into a run. It didn’t matter how you looked, everything was ruined and as much as you wanted to place the blame on either of the combative boys, it was all your fault.

All you wanted to do now was fucking disappear.

#jj maybank #jj Maybank x reader #rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks

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caramelcal · 4 years

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The Truth Hurts... {part seven}

Every time your soulmate lies, a mark presents itself on your body. In a world like this, people normally told the truth so that their soulmate didn’t have to deal with the consequences. But your soulmate? They seemed persistent to make your life hell, and mark your body until there was no skin left.

Word Count: 1.4k

a/n: I know this is a little bit shorter but I didn’t want to blend episode 8 and 9 together so I finished off 8 on this one. This all feels a bit like a summary but that’s because I couldn’t really incorporate y/n into it, but it needed to happen. You guys will understand why soon :) I’ll get the next part up very soon considering nothing that important happened in this chapter so don’t worry :) As always, I hope you enjoy and requests are open :)

Taglist: (comment if you want to be added, or you can message me) @itsjustmeiguessallrightthen @moonbeams-stuff @cece-lives-here @aprilfire18 @adrianaprox @slytherinrising @deadric

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Lydia and Mason stood beside you, giving comforting smiles to a very nervous Corey. He was a chimera, you all believed, so giving him the book was a way that you could try and jump start any memories that Corey might have of him coming across them.

“Sorry I’m only on chapter two. I’m kind of a slow reader,” Corey said shyly, and you almost ‘aww’d at how adorable he was. He might have only been two years younger than you but he was just so adorable.

“Oh that’s okay Corey,” Mason soothed with a small smile.

Scott chose this moment to arrive, bursting into the room like a man on a mission as he spoke, “He’s right. We don’t have time for that anyway,” Lydia started to object but it was too late, Scott’s claws were already in the back of Corey’s neck, the smaller boy letting out a gasp of surprise, bottom lip trembling as his mouth opened. Scott was trying to get his memories in an incredibly stupid way.

Scott had never tried it before, and it made you angry that he had done it so carelessly. You get that he was on edge, wanting to find Liam and Hayden but endangering that poor boy’s life with so much ease was beyond wrong.

When Theo, Malia and Stiles came into the room you knew that they could probably sense your bubbling anger at Scott. Whilst Theo asked questions, he moved around towards you, sending you a look to ask if you were alright. You didn’t answer him, ignoring that he even sent you the look to begin with as he asked, “Is it as dangerous as it looks?”

“Probably more,” Was Stiles’ cool reply. How were they all so calm about how reckless Scott was being?

“Definitely more,” Was your snappy reply, eyes glaring through Scott’s head as they all shared uneasy glances between each other. Your clipped words towards Scott was enough for them to notice the bubbling anger that could erupt like a volcano inside you any moment.

“Does anyone know if it’s working?”

As if that was a cue, Scott’s claws retracted from Corey’s neck, both of them panting. You quickly marched forward and despite Scott moving back anyway, pushed him out of your way as you crossed over to Corey. You had pushed him into Stiles, causing the boy to look up at you again but you rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to Corey.

“What the hell did you do to me?” Corey called out in pain, clutching the back of his neck.

“You’ll be alright. You’ll heal.”

“Scott...” Stiles started but he was cut off by Scott shouting.

“He’ll be fine!”

Furiously, you turned to Scott who seemed to pay no care in the world that he endangered the boy’s life, “Oh really Scott? Will he? Peter, you know the one that’s a bit of a psycho? He doesn’t even like to do that, and you just walked up to Corey like it was nothing! You endangered the boy’s life! What the hell is wrong with you!”

“He’ll be fine!” Scott roared again, his eyes turning red as he faced you. But he wasn’t your alpha, not in the same way he was Liam’s. He couldn’t control you.

You went to speak again but Theo quickly put a hand over your shoulder, guiding you out of the room quickly before you could say anything else. His hands were firm on your shoulders, “You need to calm down, okay?”

“He endangered the boy’s life, Theo! How can anyone be cool with this?”

“I know he did and I know you’re angry but right now we need to find Liam and Hayden. Then you can be mad at him all you want, cuss him out till the sun rises.”

You softly smirked at Theo, “Oh don’t worry, I will.”

. . .

After you had all figured out where Liam and Hayden were actually being kept instead of rushing to conclusions like Scott, you refused to let Theo go himself to save them. He had been against you coming in case the Dread Doctors were there, but you weren’t taking no for an answer.

“Liam? Hayden?”

“No Theo, don’t!” Liam called out but it was too late. After Theo had caught sight of the two, he wasted little time before grabbing onto the fence, not realizing it was electrified. Electricity ran through his veins as he fell to the ground, unconscious you believed.

You knelt down beside him, checking he was alright. There was no doubt that he’d be back conscious soon, and hopefully would be more help than he is on the floor. You turned back towards the two younger teenagers, “How can I get you guys out of here?”

“You’re human, y/n. You wouldn’t be able to withstand the power of the electricity.”

You shifted from foot to foot, glancing nervously at the two before looking back at the gate, “I’ll try if I have to.”

“I don’t think you will,” Liam said, glancing down at where Theo groaned at your feet. This immdeiately caught your attention as you knelt down beside him as he opened his eyes.

“Do you need help up?” You asked him, to which he shook his head with a small groan and began to stand up, his face contorting in pain while he does so. Once he is up, Liam rushes over, standing only about a foot away on the other side of the fence.

He is clutching his arm, a clear indication that the Dread Doctors have done something to him, “You think you can get help?”

Liam seems scared and small, a thing that you weren’t used to when it came to the small, beta boy. However, you don’t have long to dwell on that as Theo talks, “I am the help.”

He walked over to the fence, preparing for what he has to do as Liam stood back, joining Hayden’s side. Theo places his hands on the fence, electricity running through his veins when he pulls the two fences apart. Electricity sparked around them, and just the sheer amount of pain and electricity that was running through Theo made his eyes turn golden and fangs protrude out of his mouth.

When the fence was parted, you rushed over to Liam, crushing into him with a strong hug. He put his arms around you, hugging you as tightly as he could with his still injured arm before you both broke free. You looked at both of them, giving Hayden a small reassuring smile as you spoke, “How about we get you guys out here, huh?”

. . .

Worry. That’s what you could feel when you looked back at the two kids in the back seat. Sure, there was relief, relief that you and Theo had found them but Hayden was hurt, and she was hurt bad. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that something was different: she wasn’t healing like she should have been.

A hand fell into yours, fingers intertwining and giving your hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance; reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Your eyes met Theo’s as he gave you a small smile, one that you tried your best to reciprocate. With one hand on the wheel he continued to drive back to Scott’s house, to give Liam and Hayden shelter and comfort so that they could recharge and feel safe once again.

If there was one thing about the gesture that Theo made it was that it did ease your nerves ever so slightly, giving you a quick breather without the anxiety that you had been filled with for the past couple of weeks. He felt safe, and safety and comfort was what you needed.

When Scott, Malia and Mason arrived back home, they looked defeated that they couldn’t find and save Hayden and Liam. However, it was all quickly changed when they seen them sleeping next to Lydia, who gave them a comforting smile.

Your hand was still held inside Theo’s, his thumb lightly running over your palm when Scott’s eyes caught onto his. He let go of your hand and went over to embrace Scott in a reassuring hug, and in that moment everything seemed fine. In that moment it seemed that there was an inkling of hope, hope that you would maybe defeat the Dread Doctors. This was a win for the pack, to have gotten Hayden and Liam back, so why did it feel like there was something else going on, something bigger? Why did it feel like it was too easy?

#theo raeken #teen wolf theo #theo raeken x reader #theo raekan imagine #teen wolf theo x reader #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf #cody christian #cody christian x reader #cody christian x you #theo raeken soulmate au #soulmate au

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waveypedia · 4 years

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Key to a Memory

(warning for swearing)

{people need a melody to open their eyes

like a key to a memory frozen in time

holding on to everything, you’re stuck in the past

boy dontcha know that the world moves fast

it’s been a little while since we’ve been together

it’s been a long time since we were young and wild, remember

when we were friends, remember}

May 14, 2019 I 6:26 pm

UNKNOWN NUMBER: GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: HEY GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s me Della!! Your bud!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I’m back from space!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t believe you have the same number you nerd! lol I remember when Uncle Scrooge finally forced you to get a phone and you got a super cheap one and then upgraded it with your own tech

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t wait to see how much more upgraded and fancy your phone is now!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: sorry for not texting you sooner I got back a couple days ago but things have just been really hectic since then ya know??

UNKNOWN NUMBER: anyway I know you’re probably busy changing the world and inventing amazing things for Uncle Scrooge

UNKNOWN NUMBER: he told me you got an intern!! Congrats!! I can’t wait to meet them

UNKNOWN NUMBER: just call me when you get a chance ok? I’d really like to catch up

“GYRO!!” Della screamed, kicking open the door to the lab. Gyro scowled at his desk and scrawled a quick note to outfit the elevator with self-opening doors. The scientist sighed and stood up reluctantly, stepping around his desk to be in full view. “What is it now, Della?”

Della sprinted into the lab, her grin threatening to split her face in two. She exuberantly waved a bundle of papers in Gyro’s face. “Donnie and I got tickets to the new Galaxy Wars movie, and you’re coming!! Thursday at 6!! Be there or be square!!”

Gyro snorted and gently waved her off, pushing the tickets out of his face. “Dels, I’m busy here. Besides, any self-respecting scientist knows those movies are garbage.”

Della fake-pouted and slung her arm around Gyro’s shoulders, despite the height difference. She had to lean and go up on her tiptoes to manage, making Gyro burst out in a fit of laughter. She shrugged, tugging Gyro down to her height. “Whatever. The premiere was a couple weeks ago, so you probably won’t get into a fistfight with an overzealous fan this time-”

“-Their fault-” Gyro muttered under his breath as Della prattled on.

“-Aaaaaand Cousin Gladdy’ll be there! With his luck we probably won’t get kicked out by the ushers,” Della finished proudly.

Gyro rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Ugh, Gladstone? That man is too self-absorbed. Takes one to know one. And does that mean Fethry will be there as well?”

“Yep!” Della beamed. “He loves science, Gy, and he loves you! He’ll grow on you one day.”

“Highly unlikely.” Gyro shoved her arm off and stretched, standing up to his full height. “I grudgingly respect Fethry’s passion and his interest in scientific fields. He’s just so…” Gyro huffed. “Annoying.”

Della poked him in the beak. “Whatever. If you think Fethry’s annoying, my buddy Loopy from flight school will be there and she’ll blow your mind. But in a good way! Loopy’s amazing!”

Gyro groaned and slapped a hand on his face, slowly dragging it down. “Loopy and I are your only friends, aren’t we?”

Della puffed her chest out in mock effrontery. “I have lots of friends! I’m the best at making friends! They’re just all over the globe, you know, cause of all the amazing and daring adventuring I do!”

Gyro snorted and knocked his friend with his shoulder. “Whatever. When one of these international ‘friends’ comes around to Duckburg and hangs out with you beyond the adventure, let me know.”

Della smirked. “So you’ll be there?”

“Fine. I’ll be there.” Gyro affirmed, rolling his eyes.Della beamed mischievously. “Wonderful! See you there! Also it’s a sleepover and I’m adding you to a group chat specifically for this event now byeeeeee!!!”

“WHAT?!” Gyro squawked, racing after Della, but the elevator dinged and carried her far away. “Della! No! Come back! DELLA!!! I WILL NOT SUBJECT MYSELF TO THE TORTURES OF YOUR CHILDISH SLEEPOVER!!!” He chanced a look at his phone. It was already blowing up with texts from Della and Fethry.

Gyro groaned and slammed his head down on his desk, grateful for the solitude of his lab. He pulled up the calendar Scrooge filled with his deadlines from the board and added the movie night so he wouldn’t forget. A small, pleased smile played at his beak.

He picked up his phone, muted the group chat, and returned to his work.

read 9:28 pm

May 15 I 4:03 pm

Della Duck: hey dumbass

Della Duck: they have read receipts now stupid

Della Duck: I know you saw my messages

Della Duck: whatever I know you’re hella busy just call me when you get the chance

Della Duck: hahah did you see that? hella! I used new slang!

Della Duck: Louie taught it to me :D

Della Duck: I can’t believe his name is Louie and not Rebel! I’m kinda mad at Donald but also it suits him more than Rebel

Della Duck: Dewey though… he’s DEFINITELY a Turbo

Della Duck: Huey could go either way but he’s okay with Huey so I guess I am too

Della Duck: It’s a lot to take in

Della Duck: although Webby would be overjoyed to be Jet or Rebel

Della Duck: I can’t believe I have an extra daughter!!! how cool is that?? four kids for the price of three!!

Della Duck: or maybe it’s more like six kids for the price of three since Webby had friends over today and they all seem close

Della Duck: Ooh you know who would be a good Rebel? Lena! apparently she just came back from the shadow realm??? I missed so much

Della Duck: i can’t believe you guys got to fight magica de spell without me AND she had a kid

Della Duck: she’s still kinda hot ngl

Della Duck: but louie showed me a picture of her after she lost her magic and ehhhh

Della Duck: but also there are lots of hot people around these days and I’m kinda freaked out

Della Duck: like I made a best friend of my roommate on the moon!! Her name’s Penumbra but I call her Penny and I’d let her stomp on me. Best part is she probably would

Della Duck: also Uncle Scrooge got a new pilot & driver and I hate him cause he’s sorta replacing me?? But also he’s hot in a himbo kinda way

Della Duck: I know you have insanely high standards but you gotta back me up here gyro Launchpad is kinda hot

Della Duck: damn i’ve missed our conversations about various hot people and our lack of love lives

Della Duck: I told you about Penny you gotta fill me in on the current hotties in the Duckburg science community

Della Duck: I also met your intern! He seems nice ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: i can hear your voice. “Della that is an excessive amount of emoticons”

Della Duck: well if you want me to stop you’ll just have to reply ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: at least you’re not telling me to use “emojis”Della Duck: apparently they all have hidden meanings and I don’t understand

Della Duck: Louie, Dewey, and Lena tried to teach Uncle Scrooge and I

Della Duck: I’m ashamed to say I think he fared better than I did

Della Duck: he’s old!! He’s supposed to be clueless!! I’m not old I was just on the moon for a decade!! That’s gotta count for something right?

4:46 pm

Della Duck: i see how it is

Della Duck: ignore me all you want but i’m right

The sun was nearly below the horizon, painting the evening sky and the waves below it in a plethora of muted colors, when Della broke the topic. “Yo. I think Magica de Spell is kinda hot.”

Gyro swerved to stare at her so fast he felt something in his neck crack. “Magica?! She’s ancient; are you crazy?!”

Della shrugged, kicking sand around absentmindedly with her bare toes. “Yeah, but she doesn’t look it. She’s hot in an unattainable kind of way.”

Gyro snorted, loud and sad. “I know how that feels.”

Della nudged him teasingly. “What’s going on in your love life? I shared, now you have to.”

Gyro rolled his eyes and nudged her back, harder. “You know nothing’s happening.” He shrugged carelessly. “It’s not like I have much time outside of work.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you refuse to take care of yourself and you act like you’ll die if you leave the lab,” Della said good-naturedly. “You should come on an adventure with us!”

Gyro sighed contentedly and waved her away. “I’ll stick to the lab, thanks. My inventions’ corrupted morality circuits provide me quite enough stress and adventure, thank you very much.”

(He couldn’t very well tell her that her dear ol’ uncle had entrusted him with the project of a lifetime, his chance to thank her for her gift of friendship, his chance to prove himself to Mr. McDuck for once and for all, his chance to redeem himself from the smoking failure that was 2BO. He didn’t have to run himself ragged working on the Spear of Selene day and night, but this was important, far more important than anything Gyro had worked on at McDuck Industries before. For his career, and for his friendship. And he wanted to do it right.)

(Shame he failed in the end anyway.)

Della sighed assent, smiling, and leaned back on her elbows, working her fingers into the sand. She had given up for now, but Gyro knew she would broach the subject again soon, from a new angle, with a new tactic. Della Duck never gave up.

“Maybe one day,” Gyro said, surprising himself. After this whole Spear debacle is said and done.

Della beamed and knocked her shoulder into his affectionately. “I’ll hold you to that!”

Gyro smiled wryly. “I know you will.”

Gyro pushed up his glasses and studied Della’s texts, willing his eyes not to unfocus and his brain not to zone out. He read them once, twice, three times. Four.

He began typing.

Gyro Gearloose: I remember-

Gyro Gearloose: My love life is as nonexistent as it was when you left-

Gyro Gearloose: emojis are zealous anyway-

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry-

He deleted his words, frustrated, nerves and old, painful memories rubbed raw, and never sent a reply.

June 11 I 2:09 pm

Della Duck: so Fenton and I went out for coffee today

Della Duck: not on a date, just as a chance to get to know each other platonically

Della Duck: he’s so much like you

Della Duck: not on the surface. In fact you guys are pretty much opposites

Della Duck: but you both care so much, even though you show it differently

Della Duck: i know you care your prickly demeanor can’t fool me

Della Duck: you’re both incredibly passionate about sciences

Della Duck: you’re both super awkward

Della Duck: he has high praise for you, and he really admires you, but it sounds like you’re not that close and I think you totally should be!

Della Duck: I know you’re probably annoyed that I’m meddling in your (love) life again, but get used to it!! I’m the best wingman and friend and I’m here to stay!!

Della Duck: even if you don’t text me back

Della Duck: (but seriously, please text me back. I miss you.)

Della Duck: he said you might need some space and I guess that makes sense but i just don’t understand why

Della Duck: that’s the only reason I haven’t stormed down to the lab by now

Della Duck: Did i do something before I took off for the moon?

Della Duck: or are you like Donnie and you’re mad?Della Duck: at least I think Donnie’s mad

Della Duck: or he will be

Della Duck: he’s on a cruise, Gyro! A fucking cruise!!!

Della Duck: he left the day I got back and now he’s gone for a fucking month

Della Duck: he thinks I’m dead

Della Duck: I miss him so much

Della Duck: the cruise doesn’t allow cell phones so I can’t even contact him and tell him I’m alive

Della Duck: But Huey and I sent postcards!! I don’t know if they’ll reach him but I really hope they do

Della Duck: Huey and Webby have been checking the mailbox meticulously to see if he sends one back

Della Duck: sorry for ranting

Della Duck: I just miss him

Della Duck: I miss you too you know? Yeah i’m being stupid sappy again but it’s dumb that you’re right here, across the city, and we haven’t talked

Della Duck: call me gyro you fucking coward

2:43 pm

Della Duck: also Fenton is totally Gizmoduck right

Della Duck: I met Gizmoduck once when he came to formally greet me

Della Duck: and i’ve seen him around the city lots

Della Duck: but they’re so similar. They have the same mannerisms

Della Duck: I guess that means you built his armor then right?

Della Duck: or you helped

Della Duck: it’s great Gyro

Della Duck: look at you! An invention that didn’t turn evil!!

Della Duck: I’m proud of you bud

“Have you ever thought about hiring someone to help in the lab?” Della asked one day, apropos of nothing.

She had dragged Gyro into a fancy coffee shop - one he’d probably be banned from had he attempted to patronize it on his own, and one he would be in the post-Spear of Selene era - and forced him to take a break from the top secret project he’d been devoting all his time to. They bought overpriced, bougie coffees on Mr. McDuck’s dime and traded jabs without any real bite to them, as was customary for them. Della mocked Gyro’s unique taste for black licorice, again. Same old, same old.

And then, this.

Gyro paused, his ceramic mug halfway to his face. “I’m fine on my own. Any help would only get in my way. They would stumble over their own feet and I would have to take precious time off of my own projects to tediously help them flail and fall.”

Della set down her coffee and leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “You’re so cynical. Besides, you’re working yourself to death down there! It might help if you had someone else to lighten the load.”

Gyro paused. “I suppose I might be more productive if I didn’t have to do the menial tasks beneath me…”

“-And you could make a FRIEND!!!” Della cheered, standing up and leaning heavily on the table, her enthusiasm thundering in full-force. “Someone to chat with on late nights deep in projects, someone who understands your passion for science, someone you can count on when Donnie and I are off on an adventure!”

Gyro groaned, startled at first but then settling into resignation. “I should have known you had an ulterior motive.”

Della giggled, batting her eyelashes jokingly. “I only have your best interests at heart.”

Gyro shrugged and swirled his quickly-cooling coffee around in his mug. “Besides, Dels, you know there’s a reason you’re one of my only friends, right? You and Dickie and Daisy, you’re the people I’m closest with and that’s because you wouldn’t put up with my prickly, stay-alone-all-the-time bullshit. You guys drag me out of whatever place I’m holed up in kicking and screaming. Most people are not like that. I’m lucky to have three of you,” he admitted in the kind of moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability and clarity that only comes when you’re with someone you really trust.

Della snorted and reached across the table to shove Gyro gently. “Shut your self-depricating hole, Gyro Gearloose. Trust me, I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t want to.”

Gyro smirked, a small smile chasing away the dark storm clouds that covered his face. “I know, Dels.”

“Good.” Della replied self-assuredly. “I love Dickie and Daisy, and I love that they love you, but they’re not local. You need more friends, Gyro.”

“Maybe,” Gyro hummed softly, the closest he would ever come to admitting it. “But it’s even harder to get along with coworkers, and the chances of my subordinate being someone who actually wants to be friends with me is abysmal.”

Della shrugged. “Sometimes you learn to like each other. Like me ‘n Donnie! We drive each other crazy, but we have each other’s backs when it matters, and we’re always there for each other.”

Gyro snorted. “This hypothetical person and I will be coworkers, Dels, not siblings. That’s different. Besides, you and Donald love each other too much to be healthy.”

“Yeah, but Donnie and Uncle Scrooge and I are a little like coworkers, aren’t we? Adventuring is our job, and it’s very stressful at times,” Della said.

Gyro shook his head. “Dels, honestly, you have to get a job at some point. Mr. McDuck won’t let you leech off of him for much longer now, and you have no experience. It’s really not the same.”

Della shrugged. “At some point. I know Uncle Scrooge is biting at the bit, especially after Donnie joined the Navy, but I don’t want the responsibilities and schedules of work to tie me down and take me away from adventuring, you know? It’s the same reason I didn’t go off to college.”

“I still think you should have,” Gyro replied, smiling wryly. “You’re bright and you’d flourish being able to study what you choose.”

“I learn a lot adventuring,” Della replied smugly, stubborn as always. “I can speak seven languages fluently, you know!”

“Even if most of them are dead, or belong to otherworldly beings from alternate dimensions,” Gyro pointed out.

Della sighed contentedly and shook her head. “Whatever. What’s done is done, and I’ll get a job someday. But just think about it, Gyro, all right?” She locked gazes with Gyro pleadingly.

Gyro sighed in defeat. “Fine. I will give it some thought. But don’t get your hopes up, all right?”

Della smirked. “Whatever you say.”

Gyro put his head in his hands, roughly shoving aside his expensive coffee. (He was lucky it didn’t crash and burn, like most of his inventions.)

She’s not gonna win this one, Gyro aggressively promised himself. I can’t subject anyone else to my bullshit.

(The only reason he assented and allowed an intern on, in the future, was because Scrooge all but ordered it. He saw firsthand the way having positive people around improves lives and wanted that for Gyro too, especially with Della gone and Donald barely speaking to him. And if Mr. McDuck’s not-so-subtle hints and gentle persuasion-turned direct orders gave Gyro crystal-clear flashbacks to Della’s not-so-gentle prodding, and if he cried that night after his boss left, well, no one would be anyone the wiser.)

(He got quite lucky with Fenton and Manny, though. Some of that was the Board's thorough vetting process, but some of it was Scrooge himself intervening, because he wanted Gyro to make a friend as badly as Della had.)

August 15 I 7:26 pm

Della Duck: all right

Della Duck: I talked to Fenton again

Della Duck: i’m sorry for bothering you

Della Duck: it hurts to not talk to you but I’m gonna give you your space

Della Duck: I’m here whenever you’re ready

Della Duck: but please be ready soon Gyro i’m impatient

I know you are, Gyro nearly whispered as he read the texts. It felt like a finality, a surrender. But that couldn’t be right, because Della Duck never gave up.

How could he and his stupid, stupid inability to communicate his feelings and face his irrational fears be the one thing that forced Della Duck to admit defeat?

(read 7:58 pm)

The McDuck Annual Holiday Party was in full swing when Gyro arrived quietly. Launchpad had offered to drive him with Fenton, Manny, and Scrooge when they left a couple of hours ago, but Gyro had stayed to put the finishing touches on his current project, lest he lose his motivation.

That was the only reason. Not because Della would be there, and he might be forced to talk to her. No, sir.

Gyro clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white in the pockets of his vest. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t fooling himself, and he certainly wasn’t fooling his friends family coworkers. Every single one of them, even Mr. McDuck (now that was painful) had tossed him a look that ranged from disappointed to knowing to pitying as they left for the party. It made Gyro want to scream in rage and slam his fists against the wall until they were bruised and bloody. But even he knew that was unacceptable party behavior. (Mrs. Beakley had humiliatingly taken him aside for a quick rundown on which of his usual behaviors were not applicable at company parties.)

Steeling himself for a night of faux cheer and passive-aggressive conversations, Gyro quietly opened the door and slipped inside. Skirting on the outskirts of the party, he scanned the room desperately for allies to swarm to and enemies to avoid.

He spotted Fenton and Launchpad first, amicably chatting up the legendary Greek hero Storkules and his sister, the equally inexplicable and ethereal goddess Selene. (A mystery to unpack at a later date.) Beside them was the gruff Moonlander that Della seemed to love.

Gyro set his jaw. He could handle chatty immortals and aggressive aliens. At least they probably wouldn’t have a personal vendetta against him because of a malfunctioning invention or a poorly placed comment. He waded determinedly through the sluggish crowd, surprisingly stopped a couple times by friendly faces. (Boyd’s hug of greeting lasted almost three minutes, and that didn’t even account for the rest of the overzealously affectionate kids.)

Looking back, he’s lucky his the kids stalled him, because when he finally emerged from Webby’s hug, his eyes locked on his own personal horror story.

Della.

This was the first time Gyro had actually seen her since she’d come back from the moon. Her hair was longer, if only slightly, and her metal leg gleamed in the light from the chandeliers above. (His fingers itched to get his hands on it and upgrade it, toy with it, make it into a personal project, but he adamantly refused himself.)

Alongside the physical differences, Gyro noticed some changes to her demeanor as well. She seemed more… weathered, and tired, despite the ever-present spark of energy she seemed to radiate and her unwavering grin. It was cliché, and Dr. Gyro Gearloose hated clichés with a passion, but she had an almost haunted look in her eyes, contrasting her radiating cheery energy.

She was different, and he was different. So much time had passed. It seemed almost impossible that the duck in front of him was the same duck that Gyro had shared coffee and secrets with almost daily ten years ago.

And yet he yearned to return to their easy friendship. Not for the first time, Gyro wished desperately to go back in time a decade and stop the Spear of Selene from ever happening.

Della slipped between Penumbra and Selene, glowing in the way only an extrovert in social situations can. By way of greeting, she hugged everyone, even Fenton (!!!). She settled at last, hanging off Penumbra’s shoulder with Selene’s arm around her and Launchpad’s jacket around her shoulders (how she had acquired that, Gyro had no idea).

Unfortunately for Gyro, from her new position, she had a perfect view of him, stuck with only a single sparse group between them. Her eyes strayed to lock onto him and he froze, panic creeping in a mile a minute.For a moment neither moved, staring at each other.

She hadn’t texted him since August, true to her word, albeit how much it hurt for both of them. She had come to the lab a couple times, to pick up Fenton and/or Manny for coffee or to pick up or drop off Huey, Webby, or Boyd. But Gyro had always hid like the coward he was, terrified to face his best friend. The last time they’d talked was the day before Della took off in the Spear of Selene, ten years and eight months ago.

At last, after four months, and nine months of radio silence from his end, here she was, almost close enough to touch.

Then Gyro’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and he turned tail and ran, panic clouding his vision and his judgement. He shoved one of the Sabrewing husbands roughly aside (Scrooge would undoubtedly make him apologize for that later) in his frantic quest to escape all the raw emotions, of hurt and guilt and self-hatred, that sprung up all of a sudden.

His eyes locked on a door and he wrenched it open before slamming it shut. He leaned hard against the door, hands clenched around the handle, breathing hard.

Only once the panic began creeping away and his breathing slowed did Gyro finally process his surroundings. He was in a small broom closet, filled to the brim with glittery party supplies Mrs. Beakley had probably denied Webby. (She would probably find a way to sneak them into the party sometime later.)

And perched precariously on top of a box labeled “glitter fireworks” was a woman Gyro had met once, in the Old West, two hundred years ago.

Goldie O’Gilt sized him up, panicked and ruffled, and apparently decided he was no threat. She slid gracefully down from the boxes. “What brings you here, to the closet of forgotten and abandoned party supplies? Girl troubles?”

Gyro wanted to laugh, because technically, she was right. “I’m gay,” he replied, giving her his best deadpan stare. It was lacking.

She assessed him, trying hard not to smile, before bursting out laughing. Gyro barely resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “People problems, whatever. Please. You can’t fool me, hun.”

Gyro crossed his arms testily. “Why are you here? Away with you.”

Goldie grinned smugly, pretending to examine her nails. “Oh, nothing special. Just some extra fun for Scroogey later. May or may not involve glitter fireworks. You?”

Gyro snorted, without any real humor behind it, and rolled his eyes. “Great. Well, I have better things to do than watch you drive Mr. McDuck up the wall. See ya.”

“This is about Scroogey’s rediscovered niece, isn’t it?” Goldie called after him, as if as an afterthought.

Gyro froze, his fingers curled around the doorknob. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t, really,” Goldie hummed, faking disinterest. “But spare an old woman some juicy gossip, would ya? ‘Sides, I’m a professional conwoman. I see all the angles, and yours is in plain sight.”

Gyro scowled and shifted so he could see Goldie’s face again. She was smirking, small but triumphant, which did nothing to quell Gyro’s steadily growing mix between annoyance and panic. “And I suppose this has nothing to do with ‘Aunt Goldie,’ would it?”

Goldie shrugged nonchalantly, but the smile on her beak shifted into a small pout of annoyance. “I’ll do you a favor and be honest with you. Cherish this moment; it won’t happen again.”

She sighed and leaned more heavily against the precariously stacked boxes. “I may have missed Della and her adventurous, rambunctious spirit over the years,” she confessed, suddenly looking a good deal more like the age-old tired adventurer she was. “It hurts to see that spirit quenched, especially when I just got her back. She hasn’t even frustratingly tagged along to one of Scroogey and I’s not-so-solo adventures! And… I care about her. She’s almost my niece.”

Gyro frowned, stunned at Goldie’s clarity. “...Oh.”

Goldie straightened up and whipped out a shiny knife from the folds of her dress. “But tell anyone, especially Della or Scrooge, and they’ll never know what happened to ya,” she warned, wagging the knife in the direction of Gyro’s face.

He pressed himself against the door while maintaining his scowl, despite the fact that it was too far away to hurt him. He knew what she could do if she put her mind to it. “I won’t.”

Goldie slipped the knife back into the folds of her dress, where it seemed to magically disappear from her hand. “Good. Now go get my niece’s spirit back,” she instructed strictly, shoving Gyro not-so-subtly towards the door.

He wrenched it open and slipped surreptitiously outside, glancing around the party. The crowds seemed to have thinned a little.

Gyro spotted Della easily. She, Donald, and Mrs. Beakley were gently corralling the gaggle of children upstairs - it was quite late, after all. Gyro started to step towards her, then hesitated.

He chickened out and sprinted unsteadily outside instead, taking in big mouthfuls of the refreshingly cold December air.

The chill set in after a few moments and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, and despairingly started the long trek away from the mansion.

His phone was buzzing with worried texts from his friends (and Della, no doubt), but Gyro set his jaw and walked on, stubbornly ignoring their annoyingly righteous concern. No use telling everyone he lost his nerve again, just like every time Della texted.

Gyro gritted his teeth and pulled the collar of his jacket over the lower half of his face as protection against the biting winds. The physical pain lessened, but the icy feeling in his gut did not. He balled his hands into fists, as if to physically punch his overwhelming guilt and regret away.

I’m a bad friend.

Early April was always a little tough for Gyro, with the anniversary of the destruction he inadvertently sowed in Tokyolk. It got better with time, but the early years were always a little rough.

(And after that he always had another grief-filled and regretful anniversary to observe in April, anyway.)

He was pushing through it, though, by throwing himself into his work. This year was especially easy. The Spear of Selene was almost done, and would probably be finished just before the eggs’ hatching.

The last time he talked to Della was when he was taking a quick, rare break the day before what would be the second-worst day of Gyro’s life. (Tokyolk took first, if only narrowly.) He had gone off on a quest in search of coffee - he was at the launch lot, and he’d unfortunately been banned from the closest coffee shop. (It was their fault anyway - what kind of coffee shop didn’t want an automatic coffee bean stocker? Even if it tried to stock customers when there were no beans left? Really, they shouldn’t have run out of beans. And his price of free coffee for life was so reasonable and small, really, when he usually frequented the one closer to the lab. Their loss.)

“Gyro!” Della sprinted up to him, face flushed from running in the chilly winds and early spring air. She held out a coffee from the aforementioned shop to him with a grin, prompting his frustrated rant, but Della just let him prattle on with a goofy grin gracing her face.

“What’s going on?” Gyro finally demanded, after watching Della beam ardently at his violent threats and calls for justice and revenge towards the coffee shop. “Your smile is… sillier than usual. Which is saying something.”

Della waved him off, his insult breezing past her. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see!!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is it a good surprise?”

Della beamed triumphantly back at him. “Definitely.”

Gyro frowned dubiously, but he knew Della well. For all her recklessness, when she was this sure about something, her judgement was usually worth listening to.

(Later, he’d wish he hadn’t listened to her, and trusted his own gut, for once.)

He shrugged. “I highly doubt it’s as good as you think it is,” he replied haughtily, prompting carefree laughter from Della.

“It definitely is. Just you wait.” She reached out with her free hand and booped him on the beak, causing him to reel back, away from her. “I can make an educated guess that you’ll love it.”

Gyro rolled his eyes at her rudimentary science terminology, causing her to giggle. “If it’s another movie night with Fethry, I’ll pass.”

“Better than that,” Della promised, her smug grin turning downright devious. It didn’t faze Gyro in the slightest.

He shrugged carelessly. “With you, that could either mean better or worse. Otherwise known as pure, unadulterated torture for me.”

Della laughed, but her smile softened into something more vulnerable and emotional, no longer masked by a carefree and reckless demeanor. “I’m telling you, Gyro. You’ll love it. Come on, when have I ever been wrong?’’

Gyro barked a laugh. “Do you really want me to answer that? Because I have a full comprehensive list at the top of my head, and that only covers the basics.”

“Hating black licorice doesn’t count,” Della protested. “It tastes worse than every iteration of Hell, and I’ve been to every iteration of Hell!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Did you taste every iteration of Hell?”

Della rolled her eyes playfully. “Whatever. Just trust me on this one, will you?” she asked, hitting him with that almost vulnerable expression again.

Gyro huffed. “Fine.” He stuck a finger pompously in the air. “But I reserve the right to pass judgement when I see it.”

Della sighed without any real weight behind it. “Fine, whatever you want. But trust me, you’ll be blown away by the amazingness of this surprise!!!”

“We’ll see about that,” Gyro replied, smirking. “Now, away with you!! I have a highly important project to finish - which is unanimously more important than whatever surprise you have cooked up - and I simply cannot afford any distractions!!”

Della snorted knowingly. “Whatever. See you tomorrow at my amazing surprise! And you’re welcome for the coffee, Mr. Banned-From-Coffee-Shops!!”

Gyro shook his head fondly and made his way down the hill back to the lot. The Spear of Selene loomed in front of him, shining in the weak midday sun. It seemed frozen, waiting, on edge.

“Soon,” Gyro promised to no one in particular. He climbed inside to make some last-minute tweaks to the nuanced controls. “You’ll be in the air by May at the latest,” he promised, patting the cold metal of the rocketship. “Just let me make sure this is perfect. So nothing could ever go wrong.”

Jan 3, 2020 I 5:47 am

Donald Duck: hey asshole

Donald Duck: fyi Della’s really upset

Donald Duck: she really missed her friends ya know?

Donald Duck: Look, Gyro

Donald Duck: I know how this feels

Donald Duck: I know you’re scared

Donald Duck: but dude you face scarier stuff every day when your inventions go evil

Donald Duck: if you can face Lil’ Bulb turning evil not once but twice and still call him your son I think you can face your best friend

Donald Duck: and i know I said some shitty things to you the day we lost her and I’m sorry, that was uncalled for

Donald Duck: I was upset, as were you

Donald Duck: I forgive you if that’s not clear

Donald Duck: i forgave you a long time ago

Donald Duck: Della has too

Donald Duck: she never blamed you

Donald Duck: except maybe for the flavor of Oxy-Chew. But that saved her life, Gyro!

Donald Duck: I know I said your invention killed her, but your invention also saved her, and after she fixed it your invention brought her home

Donald Duck: now she’s back, but you’re losing her again

Gyro stumbling blearily awake, fumbling for his glasses, tired and disoriented, was nothing outside of the norm. He was a secluded, inane inventor with few friends, little social interaction, and no sleep schedule. Not to mention the plethora of projects piled on his desk vying for his attention, and the ever-present mug of coffee in his hand. (At the moment, there was a half-empty one on his desk, placed precariously on top of some blueprints.)

But his latest cup of coffee’s predicament was the least of Gyro’s worries at the moment. Because his phone, charging on his bedside, was blowing up. And that was decidedly not normal.

Gyro, at this point in time, didn’t have social media yet. (Fenton, Louie, and Dewey didn’t exist in his life yet, and so they had not had a chance to plot and execute an intervention.) Sometimes his phone blew up from the group chat with Daisy and Dickie, or the group chat with Della, Daisy, and Dickie, or just Della when she got excited. Or Fethry, once in a while, but Gyro was certain he’d blocked Fethry’s number this time.

Gyro clumsily put on his glasses and pulled himself up into a sitting position, still half-asleep. He scrolled through his notifications, frowning.

Mostly missed calls from Donald and Scrooge, a couple confused text notifications from Gladstone, two missed calls from the Board (that couldn’t be good), and one from Roxanne Featherly, a trainee journalist under Angus Fangus who had taken an unfortunate liking to calling him whenever one of his inventions went haywire.

Panic began to stir in Gyro’s gut.

The weirdest part, though, was that most of the notifications had not come from Della. She was by far his most ardent caller, and she had called, a couple times, but they were all over an hour ago. They were all buried by the rest of his missed calls.

Odd. Very odd.

Gyro tried calling Della first, to soften the blow of whatever was happening. Della wouldn’t sugarcoat the problem. She knew better. But there was something about her contagious enthusiasm and optimism, as well as her face-it-head-on attitude, that made whatever issue was at hand seem less daunting.

But his call went to voicemail.

Gyro shook his head, confused and more than a little scared at this point. Della almost never refused his calls, even if she was on an adventure (as long as she had cell service). It annoyed Donald to no avail, but Gyro was grateful for it - he didn’t reach out for social interaction with no reason.

But now? It only scared Gyro.

He frowned, contemplating, and called Donald next. Scrooge was more likely to call unprompted than Donald, and he didn’t want to deal with the Buzzards or Featherly yet, so Donald it was.

He picked up on the third ring.“Oh, so now he picks up!! When he can’t be of any help!! What’s the big idea, Doctor?!”

Gyro scowled, annoyance beginning to mix with the terror in his gut. “For your information, I just woke up. Now, what is going on?! Della won’t answer my calls and I have an ungodly amount of notifications at three AM. Seriously, people.”

“You want to know what is going on?!” Donald screamed, his voice and temper steadily rising. Gyro flinched at the volume, but kept the phone pressed close to his ear out of half morbid curiosity and half unwanted worry. “I’ll tell you what’s going on!!! Scrooge just killed Della!! And he used your stupid, untrustworthy invention to do it!!!”

Gyro nearly dropped the phone.“...Killed?” he nearly whispered. “How? The Spear of Selene isn’t ready yet and-”

“She took it!!” Donald screeched. “She took that good-for-nothing rocket and flew straight into a cosmic storm!”

“She wasn’t supposed to!” Gyro spluttered, numb. “She wasn’t even supposed to know about it yet!”

“Well, she did!” Donald spat darkly. “And now she’s gone. She left her boys orphaned. What were you thinking, making her that rocket?!”

“It was Mr. McDuck’s idea,” Gyro whispered numbly, automatically. “He- I- We never thought-”

“Scrooge,” Donald growled, and if Gyro knew him well enough he was dragging a frustrated hand down his face. “Of course. He’s too reckless and careless. He killed my sister.”

Gyro rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, unable to think of a coherent response. “I- I don’t think-”

“That’s right, you don’t think,” Donald snarled. “None of you do. And now my sister is dead, thanks to Scrooge. And you. Lose my number, Gyro. You won’t see me again.”

Click.

Gyro stared numbly at the floor, his phone still pressed against his ear, as the dial tone played. Finally, he slowly lowered it to his side and dropped it on the bed next to him before taking off his glasses and dropping his head into his hands.

Then, finally, he cried.

Della Duck. Dead. His best friend. Dead.

It was impossible, improbable. Della Duck was a famed adventurer barely two decades old. She breathed life. She had faced perils and terrors far worse than a cosmic storm, sustained injuries far worse, and bounced back.

Dead.

Because of Gyro’s invention. Maybe if he had worked a little harder, been a little more meticulous, he could have saved her.

He had failed again, gambled and lost with precious lives again, caused death and destruction again. It was Tokyolk all over again, and this time, the lost stakes were even more personal.

Gyro grabbed his phone suddenly, shakingly off the bed and pulled up Della’s contact. Her face beamed back at him, so full of life it seemed to burst from the tiny circle on his cracked phone screen.

He called her again, listening to it ring with baited breath even though he already knew the outcome.

“Hey, this is Della Duck, adventurer extraordinaire! I’m probably trekking through the Amazon or fighting a demon monarch in another dimension right now. Catch ya later!”

Gyro hung up before she could finish her last syllable and sobbed.

February 28 I 2:26 pm

Della Duck: fyi I’m picking Huey up today instead of Launchpad since he has a sleepover with his friend Jason today

Della Duck: you know

Della Duck: in case you wanna hide from me again

Della Duck: btw do you care if I snag that magnifying glass that shrinks people in like a month? We’re gonna go to Miniapolis soon

Della Duck: i mean i’m gonna take it anyway but figured you might want a heads up

March 14 I 5:18 pm

Gyro Gearloose: go ahead

Della Duck: GYRO!!!!

Della Duck: oh sorry

Della Duck: look I’m really excited but I also don’t wanna come on too strong

Gyro Gearloose: you’re fine

Della Duck: :D

Gyro Gearloose: it’s my fault I was being a coward

Gyro Gearloose: i couldn’t face my emotions and that was shitty of me

Della Duck: Gyro i took off in a rocket at midnight without telling anyone and left my kids without a mother for a decade

Della Duck: i win for stupid shitty actions here

Gyro Gearloose: it’s not a contest

Gyro Gearloose: we’re both shitty and stupid let’s leave it at that

Della Duck: yeah ur right

Gyro Gearloose: but dels

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry

Gyro Gearloose: it’s been almost a year and i fucking ignored you

Gyro Gearloose: i had the chance to get you back and i didn’t take it

Della Duck: hey

Della Duck: it’s okay

Della Duck: i know this is all a lot

Della Duck: i’m here now and that’s what matters

Gyro Gearloose: della i’m so glad

Della Duck: hey Huey is coming to the lab today

Della Duck: what if I come to pick him up and then you and I go out and catch up?

Della Duck: get expensive coffee on Uncle Scrooge’s dime just like old times?

Gyro Gearloose: fuck yeah

Gyro Gearloose: I’ve missed our expensive shitty coffee and gossip

Gyro Gearloose: I have SO much shit to talk about Dr. Akita

Gyro Gearloose: god

Gyro Gearloose: I hate him now

Della Duck: oh man

Della Duck: Huey told me a bit about Tokyolk but I want to hear all about it for you

Della Duck: and Boyd!!! Omg I can’t believe you’re a father

Della Duck: he’s so sweet

Gyro Gearloose: I don’t know if I’d call myself a father he has the Drakes

Della Duck: but you want to be don’t you?

Gyro Gearloose: ...yeah

Gyro Gearloose: but i’d be a shitty parent you know that

Della Duck: actually I don’t think so

Della Duck: i’m a shitty parent and I’m doing fine

Gyro Gearloose: what a surprise

Della Duck: wow thanks for the vote of confidence

Della Duck: but Beakley Donald and Scrooge are helping me

Della Duck: we’ll help you

Della Duck: join the shitty parents club!!

Gyro Gearloose: haha all right

Della Duck: also

Della Duck: i want to hear all about fenton

Gyro Gearloose: then I want to hear all about Penumbra

Gyro Gearloose: you’re not the only one who can play the love interest card

Della Duck: joke’s on you I WANT to talk about penny

Della Duck: anyway i’m leaving now

Della Duck: see you soon!!

Gyro Gearloose: i can’t wait to see you and your ugly 10-year-old clothes

Gyro Gearloose: seriously you’re wearing almost the exact same outfit

Della Duck: uh HELLO you have no right to shit on the way I dress look at yourself

Della Duck: you dress like a very old gay man

Della Duck: i mean that vest?? really?

Gyro Gearloose: at least i’m not old

Della Duck: touché

Della Duck: LP is driving so i’m almost there see you in a sec

Della Duck: and i’ll probably grab that magnifying glass now

Gyro Gearloose: that’s fine

Gyro Gearloose: i missed you

Della Duck: aw you old sap

Della Duck: never thought i’d hear you say anything like that tbh you’ve gone soft

Gyro Gearloose: I realized recently that my greatest mistakes were not as black-and-white as they seemed

Gyro Gearloose: and if Boyd can forgive me for unknowingly letting Akita turn him into a weapon of mass destruction and for me ignoring him for years and belittling him throughout this trip

Gyro Gearloose: and if I can face both brainwashed 2BO and Akita and win with the “power of love” or whatever than maybe I can talk to you

Della Duck: damn

Della Duck: I have SO many questions about Tokyolk

Della Duck: but i can hold onto them for a minute

The lab doors dinged open, but Della was sprinting out of them before they were fully open. The rest of Team Science watched warily as Della rushed towards Gyro, beaming and laughing, joy seeming to spill out of her. They expected him to hide, or push her away. but to their happy surprise, Gyro met her halfway and wrapped her in a hug.

Or, Della nearly crashed into him and squeezed him so tight he couldn’t breathe, prompting some annoyance, but it was crushed under the sheer joy and emotions of seeing his estranged best friend after eleven years.

Gyro laughed shakily, holding back tears, until he realized Della was crying too. She got snot on his work shirt, but he didn’t care.

They held each other for quite a while, until Della finally pulled back, wiped her eyes, and socked Gyro in the shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me hanging like that again, you hear?! I will hunt you down! I’ll give you your space but I’ll hunt you down! I won’t let this happen again!”

Gyro smiled and wiped away his own tears. “Yes, ma’am. Now, coffee?”

Della beamed. “The expensive kind. You got it.”

“It’s about time,” Manny tapped grumpily in the background, with Huey, Fenton, and Lil’ Bulb adding their agreement, but Della and Gyro ignored them as they flounced out of the lab.They had eleven years of friendship and gossip to catch up on, after all.

{it’s not too late, it was

never too late}

woohoo this is a wild ride! i didn’t intend for it to be this long but it just got away from me. Della and Gyro having a friendship, especially before the spear of selene, is one of my favorite headcanons. I think Della would basically grab Gyro and force him to be friends with her and to hang out with her haha.

I have a hard time writing Gyro as mean as he is in canon because I’m a sensitive sweet bean who isn’t creative or socially adept enough to come up with good insults (yet, hopefully). but i’m getting better! i hope this read as somewhat in character. same with Goldie, i’ve been trying to figure out how to write her for two years now sdfghgfds. I think I got Della’s character somewhat down though!

soft Gyro is more of an interpretation (albeit supported by canon) than canon fact but I LOVE it and i’m writing four (counting this) fics based off of it so get ready for that

the title and song lyrics are from People Need a Melody by The Head and the Heart. That song is really special to me because it was my closing song for camp last year (we would sing a song special for each unit each night before bed). I didn’t plan to use this song from the start (the working title was “DR. GYRO GEARLOOSE GET OFF UR ASS AND ANSWER UR PHONE -Della”) - I was listening to it one night, nostalgic for camp, while writing this fic and I realized the lyrics fit!

(also I was on a call for colorguard while I was writing this author’s note and my instructor said “I hear a lot of typing” lol)

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #gyro gearloose #della duck #ducktales fanfiction #wavey writes #my fanfic #donald duck #fenton crackshell-cabrera

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ask-anti-cosmo · 3 years

Text

The return of Anti-Cosmo part 2

Part 1

Anti-cosmo stayed in the suite, knowing you had to come back sometime, especially since you told him you were a day out to land. You dreaded coming back to your room but found him on the computer on a social media site.

“Is there a Anti-fairy Facebook page?” you asked sarcastically.

“Anti-Fairies, as well as Fairies, are very well connected believe it or not. You just need to know the right sites to look for. And even then, only magical beings can use it, if you’re mortal you only see a blank page.” He explained, not looking up at you. “Won’t be long now.”

“Won’t be long till what?” you frowned.

“Till my wand comes to me. My subordinates are going to help bring it back here, by magic or whatever means it takes.”

“Where were your subordinates when you were in the safe?” you folded your arms.

“I go off on my own a lot, they probably assumed I was following a chosen victim.” He shrugged and turned away from the screen for a minute to face you.

“Is that how you got in that safe in the first place?” you asked expectantly.

His eye twitches slightly. “Hunting requires risk, surely you know that. They had just set up an…elaborate trap I was completely unprepared for. A descendant from one of my victims. One of the only victims I left alive. No matter, I won’t make the same mistake.” He insisted with dignity.

“Why did you let them live in the first place?” you asked curiously.

He sat quietly before picking up a pencil and started doodling on a nearby notebook. He drew a young girl with ringlets and a frilly dress. She looked almost like a sweet porcelain doll.

“My perfect little Doll…in her perfect little dollhouse...” he said fondly.

“Why did she need your help if she was perfect?” you frowned.

“Her family was so painfully flawed, she was trying to save them from their own stupid actions.” He explained. “Then one day, she decided she was done cleaning up after them, left to make her own perfect house, and sent me away. Most of the time my victims call me back, whether conscious or in their hearts, but she never did. The last I saw her was at a ball she threw. I had a lovely time.” He said, looking at the pictures longingly before starting to sketch another woman.

“Who’s that?”

“She was my date to that ball…” he sighed. “I actually might have fallen in love with her…alas, she was human and it didn’t last. I probably could have granted her my immortality but…” he sighed and set down the pencil. He glanced at the computer screen, looking for a response or message for him.

“But…?” you asked expectantly.

He sighed at your persistence, but smiled. “She slit her wrists one night. Humans have such limited mental capacities, and Misfortune follows in my wake. It was probably inevitable.”

“You couldn’t bring her back with magic?” you asked curiously.

“I am not so cruel, I let the dead stay dead. After all, there are plenty of living to choose from.” He shrugged.

He stayed by the computer for the rest of the trip to the harbor. You found a trench coat to wear that you cut the bottom off to fit him better, and hide the fact that he wasn’t wearing pants. You felt he was your responsibility and lead him to your penthouse in the busy metropolis.

“My my my, not such a fancy pants that you own your own place eh? Just a simple flat?” he teased.

“It’s the best you can get in such a place jack*beep*.” You glared. “Besides it’s not my only one, and I do have a house, just not here.”

“Boring.” He rolled his eyes and checked the phone you gave him to monitor his messages. So far there was still nothing, making him huff.

“Alright now, what is there to do around here?” he asked carelessly.

“Why don’t you go check out my closet? You’d look lovely in one of my ball gowns.” You smirked as you greeted your cat.

Anti-Cosmo rose an eyebrow. “You’re just jealous cause I probably would.” He mumbled. “I doubt you have my color.”

“Why don’t you tell me more about yourself. Like, what’s with the Anti in front of everything?”

“We are Anti-Fairy dear, we are the equal and opposite forces of the regular fairies. Spelling our names backwards to prove that doesn’t always work. For some it does, but it’s often just easier to say Anti.” He stated simply.

“What, so there’s a regular fairy version of you?”

Anti-cosmo cringed slightly. “He’s an absolute idiot. A goodie goodie nuisance to all he meets. I want nothing to do with him.”

“So if you’re opposites, and you’re the annoying one…” you smirked as he shot you a glare. “Also, if you’re an all powerful magical being, why do you need to drink human blood?”

“Mostly to prevent a magic crash.” He shrugged.

“A what?” you frowned.

“Oh dear, do I need to explain what a crash is?” he sighed.

“No I know how drugs work.”

“Not those kind of drugs!” he insisted with annoyance. “I told you I am full of magic in my veins, correct? So are Fairies. Only they can only let so much build up before exploding. So it’s just called ‘magical build up’. They use the wands and become godparents to help expel the magic as well as do, what they hope is good, by making children happy.” He said with disgust.

“And you what? Use your build-up for evil?”

“Have you not been listening? I am the equal and complete opposite power that is my fairy counterpart! Meaning, my magic regenerates when used, but it is usually at max capacity, that’s normal for an anti-fairy. That being said, when I cast a spell, it takes longer to build back up. If I use too much magic, I will run out, causing a magical crash.”

“Do you explode from mortality?” you teased.

“No.” he huffed then stayed quiet for a minute. “…I implode. It is reversible so it’s not possibly to kill us that way.”

“And you drinking blood comes into play where?”

“I’ve discovered that nothing makes ones magic regenerate faster than human blood.” He licked his lips. “ESEPCIALLY the blood of the misfortunate. Just the thought of meeting a poor soul who’s never succeeded in anything makes my mouth water! Anyways, I always use magic, for everything, so it’s convenient to have a blood supply nearby. However I doubt you’ll have the same effect, so after I get my wand back I will be bidding you a fond farewell.”

“Sounds just fine to me.” You huffed.

“So, what to do till then?” Anti-Cosmo said thoughtfully. “Go to a rave? Go night shopping? Hunt for ghosts in the park~?” he smirked and waved his fingers at you.

“How about sleep? It’s been a long exciting day and I’m exhausted.” You huffed and started getting ready for bed.

“Oh, you can sleep when you’re dead!” he whined and pulled at your sleeve.

“Why don’t you get back online and catch up on the past 15 years worth of memes?” you said and got into bed.

“Oh please, nothing could be funnier than the troll faces that say “u mad?”” he waved his hand at you.

“Oh buddy, you’ve got a lot to learn.” You smirked and went to sleep.

He stared at your sleeping form, his eyes gleaming mischievously. “Soon my sweet…so I will have my way with you, you lovely immortal thing~” He licked his lips. He then checked for messages for his lackies and found nothing. “*BEEP*.” He pouted.

In the morning, you laid on your back and Anti-Cosmo was flouting above you. You frowned at the sight of his face and turned over. “Its bad enough I’ve had to deal with you till late last night, but now you have to flout over me while I’m asleep like a creeper?” you huffed.

“What can I say? You enchant me.” He said and started walking his fingers up your back. You shivered and swatted his hand away.

“Still nothing from your people?” you asked and sat up

He sighed and leaned back. “No…which is really odd.”

“Maybe you can try again? Post something else?”

“That would make me look whiny and desperate, then more of them would be less inclined to help me.” He huffed. “Besides, I’d much rather wait and possibly get some breakfast.” He said, looking at you hungrily.

“Oh for crying out…don’t even think about it!” you glared and got up. “You want blood, you’ve got to go to the fridge for a bloodbag.” You said as you walked to the closet.

“People healthy enough to donate blood rarely have enough misfortune to satisfy me.” He pouted.

“Boo hoo, you’ll have to have your cocktails AIDS-free then.” You rolled your eyes. “And if that’s the case, my blood would be nowhere near satisfying.”

“You think living eternally alone is a blessing?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. This did stop you in your tracks.

He drifted towards you, suddenly shrinking down and sitting on your shoulder. “Come on now, you got to taste my blood! I’ve never had Vampire blood before, I’m curious!” he urged.

You hesitated dispute knowing you’d get no benefit from this exchange, as well as you know darn well you owed him nothing. Before you could decide however, a ding came from the phone on the bedside.

Anti-Cosmo zoomed to it, growing to his original size as he snatched it up and read the notification. His mouth grew to a twisted grin, his eyes shimmering with joy.

“Ah, Anti-Juandissimo, you never fail me dear friend.” He smirked.

He suddenly stood up and held up his hand. A black wand with a star at the end appeared in his blue skinned hand. His face broke into a villainous grin as he spun it around and gave it a wave. Magic erupted from it and made his old clothes appear on his body, but they were new and pristine. His monocle returned, dangling from his earlobe before swinging up to it’s place over his eye. Small silver jewelry were placed on his clothes, ear, and wing. Lastly a bowler hat flouted above his hair.

He sighed with relief and stretched slightly. “Yes…perfect. I feel whole again~”

“You look like a Magical girl transforming.” You chuckled.

He looked back at you before waving his wand at you. Suddenly, there was a flash of light, smoke surrounded you, and your clothes changed into a vampire themed Magical girl outfit. Short skirt, a cape, even little bat wings on your head. Your costume was also adorned in silver jewelry and mirrored Anti-Cosmo’s black and blue.

“There, now we match.” He smirked.

You tried to pull the skirt down to cover your legs. “What the *Beep*?!” you yelled at him.

“What? You look cute~ oh yes, I have a wish to grant, be right back.” He grinned and vanished.

You huffed in irritation and immediately started stripping the cutesie outfit off. “What an *beep*!” you whispered angrily. “I thought he was awful before the wand…”

Part 3

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raz-b-rose · 4 years

Text

Donsy Week 2020: Day 3: AU

Wow I only finished this last night! This is the longest one out of all of them and was so much fun to write and I enjoyed playing around with the characterization.

Words: 4483

@donsyweek

He sat in his car, staring at his phone in bewilderment. He never thought it would happen, much less like this. He could hear Della’s teasing remarks now, mocking him making a huge joke of it. Part of Donald wanted to believe that it was a joke, it was too good to be true after all.

But he couldn’t see Daisy doing something like this as a joke. She had been rather persistent, he would give her that. Another positive point in her favor.

He remembered the first day they worked together, starting to have fondness for the memory that wasn’t there before.

When he had started working at Webbers it was just to have a job, to make some money. Go to school, go to work, go home. As simple as that. He wasn’t really interested in involving himself with his coworkers. The idea of even trying to talk to them left him feeling anxious, and out of his comfort zone.

He was quiet, hadn't actively talked casually with anyone at the store and in return no one else sought him out. He thought he preferred it that way. Then Daisy was hired.

Daisy was friendly and outgoing with everyone she talked to. All the customers liked her. They would return constantly, looking to chat with Daisy.

Donald really admired that in her, how easily she talked with everyone. She genuinely seemed to enjoy every interaction. Even with him. Daisy went out of her way to talk to him every shift they shared. Donald couldn't meet her eyes, and mumbled constantly. He was surprised, she could understand him each time.

She was persistent in her attempts to strike conversation with him. He didn't mean to keep shutting her down, but she truly intimidated him. How could he hold a conversation with her? How could he not stumble over his words and embarrass himself? She was so cool, and cute. She was always upbeat and brought joy to the store. Why would she want to talk to him?

"Hey Donald, what did the pirate say on his eightieth birthday?"

"What?" He looked up from the cans he had been restocking, Daisy standing above him. Her eyes were alight with excitement, blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder.

"I'm eighty!"

He stared at her for a moment, brain catching up with the joke. He laughed softly, turning back to stock the shelves.

"Hey that's the first time I've heard you laugh!"

"Oh...I guess"

"So you like jokes?" She crouched down next to him, reaching for some cans.

"Doesn't everyone?"

"Not Beatrice, she just rolled her eyes when I told her that one" she giggled.

"It was a good joke," Donald felt his face flush, hair falling into his eyes. This was the longest he had held a conversation with her.

She continued to help on stocking, telling him joke after joke, until she was called back to the front. She waved at him, promising more later.

He found himself back in his car, blush deepening as he pulled himself out of the memory. It had been a few weeks now, and conversing with her was becoming easier.

And today she had snatched his phone from his hands.

He stared back down at his phone, looking at the new number with her name attached, along with a purple heart emoji. His blush resurfaced again, warmer than before. Yea she put the emoji there herself, but what would Della say? He couldn't bring himself to edit it.

He jumped, almost dropping his phone when her first text came in. With trembling hands he typed and erased many responses until he settled on

Hey.

He smacked his head on the steering wheel. That was the stupid response ever.

Daisy: What you doing this weekend?

Donald: Working

Donald’s heart jumped around in his chest. He reread her question over and over. Why would she ask such a thing? She didn't want to hang out with him did she? He put the phone away, starting his car, ignoring the soft buzzing coming from his phone. This was something his sister had to help him with.

He found Della in the garage, picking through Scrooge's old junk, a bit carelessly, Donald felt. She was throwing things behind her as she dug through a deep chest. She hadn't noticed his presence yet.

"Where is that blasted…" She grumbled, standing to wipe sweat from her forehead. She was covered head to toe in dust, her sweat mixing with it to make it grime.

"Uh Dells." He croaked out, finally catching her attention.

"Donald! Perfect I need help finding-"

"Actually I need help with..I don't even know"

"You don't know what you need help with?" She raised her brown at him, squinting at him in the low light of the garage.

"Well can you.." He pulled out his phone, showing her the messages while explaining what happened.

Daisy had sent more during his drive, and he was even more confused and flustered.

Daisy: do you want to see a movie after work?

Daisy: There will be other people from work there

Daisy: We were thinking 7 to see The Rise of Duckzilla.

Della looked at him, then back to the messages. "Donald, she just wants to hang out, what do you not understand about that?"

"Why me?"

"Donald," her voice took that sister tone, the one she only used with him. No one else ever heard Della talk like this. "You're amazing, and totally fun to be around, why wouldn't she want to hang you with you"

She had taken a seat on the hard cold concrete, patting the space beside her. He sat slowly, still looking at her messages.

"Because I'm not fun," he pulled at his bangs, "I don't talk with anyone at work, but she keeps trying to talk to me, but she talks to everyone, so I don't think I'm special or anything"

Della listens while he rambles, nodding her head every so often.

"I'm just some loser who-"

"Stop calling yourself a loser, your amazing Donnie"

"No I'm-"

"Finish the sentence and I'll punch you"

He closed his mouth, glaring back at the phone. The screen had timed out, but he knew what waited for him behind the black void. He examined his reflection on the screen. He had dark circles under his eyes from the insomnia, and his hair had grown shaggy and unkempt. He just looked….pathetic.

"Donnie, I know it's not your thing and it scares you, but I think you should go" He groans at the idea of having to spend hours in a casual setting with people he barely knows.

"Maybe tell her how you feel?" Della stood back up, pulling him up as well. "That's enough self-wallowing today, help me find the belt of Gligidesh, I need it for a project!"

Later that night Donald laid on his bed, holding his phone above his face as he debated on how to respond. He felt a little bad that it had been hours, and Daisy must be wondering why he hasn't responded yet.

But he had been agonizing over the answer. Did he just say 'sure why not' or did he ask questions? Did asking too many questions come off wrong? How did people...socialize?

Della came in and snatched the phone from him. Before he could even protest she had tossed it back to him, flopping into his bean bag chair, flipping through one of her travel magazines.

"You're welcome"

Donald: sounds great.

His heart pounded in his chest, indignation building at Della responding for him. Before he could voice his annoyance however, Daisy responded.

Daisy: Great!

Daisy: Why don't eggs tell jokes?

Donald: why?

Daisy: they would crack each other up!

He chuckled. Of course Daisy would keep telling him jokes even over the phone.

"Wow she has a great sense of humor" he glares at Della who was reading above him. She smirked at him, before back off, holding her hands up in surrender.

He and Daisy continued to text, Donald finding it easier than talking to her, but no less nerve racking on occasion. Della sat quietly in the corner, her presence relaxing to the changes in his social life. As Della was leaving his room for the night, he thanked her. It was quiet, and some of his worst mumbling to date, but Della could always understand him.

She winked at him over her shoulder before closing the door. "Anything for my brother" she sang.

Donald hasn't gotten a response from Daisy in awhile, a glance at the time confirmed his suspicion. It was well past midnight. Laying as comfortable as he could, he stared at his ceiling, wishing for sleep, but knowing it probably wouldn't come for a while longer.

He reached for his notebook, opened to a fresh page, and started writing. He wrote many different things. His thoughts and feelings. New lyrics, a few ideas for cords here and there. Before he knew it, Della was barging in, declaring the school day was ahead of them and breakfast was ready. He cursed quietly, while sliding out of bed.

"Did you stay up all night again? Do I need to sleep in here to make sure you're at least trying to sleep?" Della threw a shirt at him.

It smacked him in the face, his hands missing it entirely. Slowly he changed, putting his arms through the sleeves of his favorite flannel at a turtle's pace.

"Please don't, I'll just keep us both up"

"You need sleep"

"I get plenty of sleep at school, he grumbles, grabbing the essentials and following Della to the bottom layer of the manor.

"Even I know that's not what school is for Donnie"

Their bickering continues as they sit down, both only pausing long enough to greet Scrooge before continuing their ‘conversation’. He grumbled what sounded like a string of Scottish curses but left them to it. Duckworth quietly placed breakfast in front of them, before leaving the room, muttering something about teenagers.

Donald looked at his phone when Della finally stopped nagging him to eat, seeing a message from Daisy. It was so weird to see notifications from someone other than his family. I was weird having a friend. Sure he knew people at school, but they felt more like acquaintances than friends. He hadn't been invited to do things since entering high school. Della nudged him with her elbow, Donald looking up from his phone to see Scrooge looking at him rather unimpressed.

“Now that I have your attention, I need your kids help this weekend exploring the-”

“Actually Uncle Scrooge, Donald has really important plans, so it's just you and me!” Della bounced a little in her seat, eating her breakfast without a care in the world. Donald winced as Scrooge looked at her with indignation.

“What could possibly be more important than helping your Uncle with what could be the discovery of the year!”

“He has a date.” Donald chokes on his food, coughing loudly while hitting his chest. Della smacks him a few times on the back laughing loudly.

“A date ye say, that is really important!” Scrooge laughs as well, hitting his cane a few times on the floor.

“Not a date” He choked out, “Movie with friends”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that Donnie” Della laughs one last time when he throws a glare at her. She gets up from the table, aggressively snatching his bag and stomping from the room. Stupid Dumbella.

Surprisingly not only did the rest of the week fly by, but Della toned down her teasing. It was still there, but he could tell she was at least trying to be supportive. Like now for instance, she was rooting through his closet, throwing clothes every which way, ignoring the mess she was making. Sure his room was already a disaster, but at least he knew where everything was.

“Della, its literally just a movie. A movie I’m going to be late for if you don’t let me leave.”

“I wont have my baby brother go out dressed like a hobo”

Donald looked down at what he was wearing. A band shirt with his flannel over top. It was as simple as simple gets.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now”

“It’s too casual” She turned back to rooting through his closet, grumbling about the color black and tattered clothing. Donald stood, rolling his eyes at her.

“I’m going now, clean up after yourself”

“Get back here” She growled out, reaching for him. He easily dodged her, down the hall before she could make it through the mess she had created. “Donald!”

“See you later Dumbella!” He shouted back, slamming the door behind him. She was exhausting, and he couldn't go wasting energy before he even got to the theater. Donald has to say he was really good at ignoring his nerves right up till he saw the large group of his coworkers and no Daisy. His pace slowed, debating on if it was socially acceptable to text Daisy.

“Donald!” She shouted, appearing out from the middle of the group, everything about her shining brightly. He grinned awkwardly waving to her. Everyone else looked at him with varying looks of discomfort or disdain, especially the other boys. Daisy rushed forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the theater.

“We still have time for snacks, do you like popcorn?”

“Uh, yeah” He can feel the glares behind him, his shoulders rising and head falling. This was starting to feel like a mistake.

“Hey, hey. Why aren’t there a lot of jokes about popcorn?” She nudged him with her shoulder.

“Uh”

“Because they’re corny!”

He laughed softly, trying to ignore the feeling of Daisy hugging his arm while she laughed with him. Listening to her laugh, and her carefree excitement was almost enough to make him forget the others from work following slowly behind them. Almost.

They never tried to engage in conversation with him, and he didn’t mind too much about that, it wasn’t too different from normal. He never talked to them either after all. Couldn’t blame them.

Daisy however, not only managed to talk to everyone else, but hold individual conversations with him. Della always talked loudly during movies, so they rarely went. Daisy however, talked quietly, her commentary hilarious, so much so he was laughing more at what she said than paying attention to the movie.

He even found himself making a few jokes back, pleasantly surprised when she laughed back. They sat close so they could talk easier and their shared popcorn easily devoured between the two of them.

Maybe this friend thing wouldn’t be so bad.

Donald sat on the edge of the pool, strumming his guitar softly. The air was perfect, not too warm with a gentle breeze. He closed his eyes, imaging he was at the sea, the soft sounds of the water in front of him slightly adding to the illusion.

Hear my voice...

as I'm calling out for you

In the last few months, he had tried, time and time again to talk to Daisy, but his words just got caught in his throat. He would find them alone, and all ability to speak would leave him. She would just look at him, giving him that smile, the sun having come down to earth to blind him everyday.

He liked her. He really did. But he knew she would never feel the same. Yet he wanted her to know, even though it scared him to no end. At the same time, he just couldn’t tell her.

Hear my voice...

there are things I wish you knew

for even if my heart is strange

and hard to understand

He strummed again, pausing to write down the cords.

He would do anything at this point for Daisy. Any task at work, he would help her with, do for her, finish before she had even noticed it needed doing. Management was both impressed and annoyed with him. His coworkers would stare and laugh when they thought he wouldn’t hear.

He knew he was out of Daisy’s league, didn’t make him feel any better though. He loved being around her, he loved hearing her laugh and her jokes. She had quickly become his best friend, his first real friend. Everything about her felt so genuine, so present and real.

I'll give all that I have for you

I'll help you take a stand

so hear my voice…

Her hand would brush against his own or his arm, short circuiting his brain further. He knew he grew more and more awkward around her, but couldn’t bring himself to not be around her either. Her presence alone was a drug, addictive and leaving him wanting more when they weren’t together. It felt so right and so wrong to feel the way he did.

as I'm calling out for you

Hear my voice...

there are things I wish you knew

so hear my voice…

Daisy could never know. She deserves someone who compliments her. Someone who radiates like she does, another sun to shine with her. Not him, a dark cloud that would only lessen her light, keeping it from everyone else. She had so much to share, and he wished he could help with that, he wished he could help show off her beauty, intelligence, and humor.

Hear my voice…

“Wow I didn’t know you could sing”

He launched his guitar into the air, his heart stopped as he watched it fly towards the pool. He reached for it, fumbling it, each pass of his hands over its surface stopping his heart more. Finally he caught it, grip tightening on the stem, leaning over the pool.

Slowly he leaned back, placing his guitar back in the case. He just as slowly turned around, Daisy standing behind him with Della, both looking at him with wide eyes full of amusement and shock.

Daisy was at the manor. Daisy had heard him singing. Daisy had heard him singing a song he wrote for her. Kill him now.

“Uh surprise” Della squeaks. Just by looking at her, he knew she knew. He was not going to hear the end of this tonight.

“You sister invited me over for dinner..sorry I scared you.”

"Daisy" he croaked out.

Daisy took a seat next to him, folding her legs under her. She was so close, her warmth making what was a perfect day into a blistering one, he was on fire.

Donald was suddenly on edge, watching her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for something to happen.

"I liked the song," she said

"How much did you hear?" He managed to say, reaching up to pull on his hair again, a nervous tick Della had pointed out to him recently.

"There are things I wish you knew" she sang softly, a small smile on her lips.

Donald felt his adams apple jerk, struggling to breathe. Please don't ask what the song is about. Please don't ask what the song is about. He repeated the mantra in his head, his leg starting to bounce.

"What is the song about?" Donald cursed, then cursed again when he realized he cursed out loud. He heard Della make a noise behind him, reminding him of why he was in this mess to begin with.

He looked over at Daisy, to see her smiling. It was a different smile than what she normally wore, it seemed knowing and gleeful. Everything he was feeling increased tenfold, positive and negative.

"I'm going to go, see you two at dinner bye" Della rambled before he heard her retreating back into the manor.

“Sorry she really wanted to surprise you” Daisy laughed again, relaxing beside him.

“Definitely a surprise” Donald laughed, also relaxing beside her.

“I really like the song,”

He stiffened again, thinking he was in the clear. “Oh uh, it’s nothing special, just something I wrote”. The heat he was feeling only continued to build.

“Will you sing it for me again?”

Donald looked at her, the way her eyes shone in excitement, hair shining just as bright in the sun, and he couldn’t say no. He reached for his guitar again, verified the tuning and glanced at her one more time. He didn’t really think about if she would have ever heard this song like this, him playing for her, just the two of them. Everyone had always told him he had an awful voice and here she was requesting for him to sing for her. She was full of surprises.

Hear my voice...

as I'm calling out for you

Hear my voice...

there are things I wish you knew

for even if my heart is strange

and hard to understand

I'll give all that I have for you

I'll help you take a stand

so hear my voice…

as I'm calling out for you

Hear my voice...

there are things I wish you knew

so hear my voice…

Hear my voice…

Daisy had closed her eyes, and started swaying back and forth, one of the cutest smiles Donald had ever seen on her beautiful face. He heart hammered in his chest, waiting for her to say something. No one had ever looked that peaceful after he finished a song, they were always grimacing and giving vague compliments.

Not Daisy. Wow was this girl like no other.

While she didn't say anything, he started another one of his songs. She never moved from where she was, or showed any different emotions. Song after song he played.

Finally he was just strumming softly, enjoying the time he was having with Daisy. He himself had even closed his eyes, the breeze gentle enough that the sound of the guitar didn’t carry far. He was no longer on fire, the heat being reduced to a soft ember, still there just less intense.

“Don?” She whispered. He hummed in response, keeping his eyes closed, listening carefully.

“I really like you”

His strumming hand slipped while his other hand tightened round the cords too tightly. The cacophony ringing out breaking the peaceful bubble, the sound echoing in his ears while his head whipped around to look at her.

This was the first time Donald had ever seen her unsure of herself. Her shoulders were hunched, head bowed. He’d never seen her face this red, and despite all that, she met his eyes with a directness that was only Daisy.

The ringing of his ears was quickly drowned out with the sound of his heart beating erratically throughout his veins. He needed to say something, anything, the longer he waited the more uncomfortable she looked.

“Me?”

“Yeah you,”

“Why?”

“Well you’re really cool and cute,” She sounded so cute when she was embarrassed, and it was only then she finally broke eye contact. The loss of her gaze giving him mixed feelings.

“Cute?” His voice rose in pitch, “Me?” He was sounding real intelligent right now. Heat creeped up his neck resting on his cheeks.

“Yes,” She giggled, looking at him again, “Like that is cute.”

“But, but” He scrambled for his train of thought, racing to catch it. None of this was making any sense.

“Donald” Daisy sounded panicked. “I’m sorry, I thought you liked me too, and I-” She starts to stutter, hands dancing around as she struggles outwardly much like he was feeling inwardly.

“I do like you,” He blurted, “A lot”

“Really?” Her entire face lit up, hands clasped in front of her. He buried his head on his hands, nodding confirmation.

“So much Daisy, but I thought...you would never like me back...why me?” He just couldn’t understand. He had never even given the idea proper thought or consideration. Daisy liking him back, was too good to be true.

“Donald,” She gently took his hands away from his face. She had gotten so close, a hardness to her eyes as she searched his own. Her hands tightened around his own, resting softly on the grass between them.

“I like you because you work hard, and you’re funny, and so SO nice to everyone, no matter how they treat you”

“Me?” He was starting to sound like a broken record.

“Yes you, I really like you”

“But I’m-”

“Different sure, but that doesn’t mean you are worthless Donald, you’re really cool”

“You deserve someone better than me”

“Well I think the one whos the best for me is you” She glared at him, then smiled softly, “I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

That made him stop. Daisy was his first real friend, and she was genuine and honest. She was kind to almost everyone. There were a few times he had seen her temper surface. Most of all though, she seemed pretty dead set on him being better than he thought. He also knew it wasn’t always in good policy to argue with her, and she probably wouldn’t back down from this one.

“Ok”

“I know you don’t really agree with me but it’s a start,” She moves so she’s sitting right next to him, holding his hand tightly.

“I don’t know how to do this”

“Me neither, but I think we make a pretty good team already” She laughs, nudging him with her shoulder much like when they first went to the movies. He smiled at her, reaching up to brush hair from her face.

“You’re amazing you know that”

“Yup” She giggles. Donald could stare at those eyes with that matching smile for the rest of his life. She squeezed his hand one more time, standing and pulling him up with her. “Common, I think it’s time for dinner. Besides, Della is probably wondering what happened,”

His head snapped towards the manor, catching Della watching from one of the upper windows, She bolted as soon as they made eye contact. She wouldn’t get away that easily. “Della!” He took off towards the manor, Daisy running alongside him, laughing. They raced up the stairs past Scrooge.

“Slow down kids, where's the fire?”

“Della!” he snapped out.

“Please don’t do too much damage this time, you kids can cost me so much money” Scrooge may sound annoyed, but Donald swore he heard a fondness to his voice.

“Nice to meet you!” Daisy called out, still following.

“You too Lass, see you at dinner” Donald glanced behind him, surprised at his Uncle's unbothered response, even more so that Daisy was still following.

“This is going to be so exciting!” She jumps, fists pumped in excitement. Donald smiles back, before leading the way once more to find his snoop of a sister. She had it coming, surprising him with Daisy after all. Then he would thank her later, after all everything turned out better than ok.

#donsy week #donald and daisy #donald duck #daisy duck

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septembersung · 5 years

Text

I said I wouldn’t do it, but here I am, posting another chapter of Generations!

Please understand that this draft is, while scanned for typos and basic coherency, a genuine “rough” draft - what a block sketch is to the final painting.

If you’re enjoying these and want more, please also know that I am putty in the hands of praise and feedback.

(Chapter One here.)

Chapter Two

Meadowlark Farm stretched across four sections in central Kansas, more than two thousand acres of plains, rolling hills, riverbanks, stubborn cottonwoods, irregular ponds, and the occasional dense stands of timber. The old family farmhouse stood close to the middle of the property, near what had once been a river but was now a seasonal creek, in a particularly fine grove of cottonwoods. In high summer, the waxy leaves shimmered wildly in the slightest breeze, like a flock of dragonflies or a shoal of fleeing fish.

The house itself rested against a little rise in the land, looking out sedately over the fields, with one basement corner, the original cellar, built into the hill. Two ancient limestone fenceposts still marked the end of the patchy gravel driveway, half taken over by dandelions. Huge clumps of pampas grass marked the rutted drive. The house rested easily in the shade of tall elms and cottonwoods. Part of the original limestone foundation remained, ringing three corners of the original square ground floor. Seen from the side, where the driveway ended in a field of stubby buffalo grass, it looked regular enough, a typical nineteenth and twentieth century farmhouse in peeling white paint. Walking around the curving front porch revealed an extra wing, built on at a diagonal angle, which stuck out like an injured bird testing the wind with its good wing. The attic, a huge airy room above the original second floor, winked back at the sun with many small square windows.

Back of the house, in the triangle between the west-facing end of the house the northward-thrusting angle of thew the new wing - over a hundred years old and still it remained, in family parlance, "the new wing" - a little kitchen garden grew half-wild. Wide, smooth stepping stones marked the short path from screen door to the little plot.

Beyond the new wing, in the true backyard, children's playground equipment dotted the slope. Mismatched swings hanging from chains and ropes attached to rusting A-frames and weathered wooden beams swung gently in the perpetual Kansas breezes. Slides and monkey bars glinted in the hot sun. Chickenwire separated the play area from an enormous rectangular garden, already overflowing with produce, heavily over-planted, and exuding fragrant herb smells with every gusty breeze. The land ran down a gentle hill towards a dense growth of timber and a long, enormous pond.

Not too near the pond, several mismatched outbuildings hunched in what could not quite be called a cluster. Like a crowd trying to pretend it is not a crowd, each person too embarrassed to stand too close to anyone else, they held a swath of ground to themselves. A huge, two story barn with its paint long gone, worn to a brownish grey. A nearly shiny Morton building, not quite new but startlingly contemporary. A hay shelter, with rusted slanted roof. A skeleton barn, with just a few peeling boards left here and there, it's empty roof frame stretching over antique machinery. And a solid, unremarkable little shed, red boards dulled to maroon, covered in a patched roof of mismatched shingles topped with an enormous handmade antenna. The double front doors stood ajar and a solid-looking padlock hung from the wide-open latch, hanging casually open.

Beyond the swings, the big garden, the outbuildings, and the pond, the land fell sharply away to a creek bed. It was low in this high, dry summer, and nearly still. The banks, crumbled where the grass gave way to clay, ran with little wavering along the crease where hill met plain, until they met the little woods to the east. Cropland stretched out beyond the creek to the north. Near the trees, but enough to be shaded by them except in earliest morning, just on the north side of the river, lay the old family burial ground.

It had not always been meticulously tended, but in Leah's lifetime the oldest headstones had been somewhat restored, the most egregious weeds removed, and this summer, even the grass had been recently mowed.

Anna-Lucia knelt at her mother's headstone. Martha Addison, beloved wife, mother, sister. May 8 2005 - August 15, 2070. RIP Et Lux perpetua luceat eia.

The thick granite headstone with its neatly cut, clear letters stood in line with several others, some so weathered and faded as to be hardly legible. After a moment, hand resting on the sun-hot granite, Anna-Lucia sat down and crossed her legs, shoulders slumped, hands folded in her lap. A few brown rosary beads hung between her fingers, but her mind had drifted into wind and dappled light and the hum of insects and the sound the tall grass made bowing again and again to itself in the gentle, incessant breeze. Time passed but she did not know it. Then -

"Here you are!"

Anna-Lucia started badly as a sun-blind silhouette loomed over and dropped down suddenly, throwing two strong arms around her shoulders.

Dazed from the bright light and her unintentional reverie, it took Anna-Lucia several stunned seconds to process the small hands with many rings, the flyaway, unevenly cut dark blonde curls, the lavender perfume.

"Liza!" she gasped out at last, returning the hug.

In the sixteen months since she had seen her sister, Liza's choppy curls had grown irregularly long. Her wiry arms were sun browned and stronger than ever.

"Oh, I have missed you, little sister," Liza sighed affectionately, giving her one last squeeze and sitting back, stretching out like a cat on the warm prickly grass. It was an old joke between them; Liza, the eldest, was as petite and youthful as their mother had been; Anna-Lucia had her father's bigger bones and had nearly always been mistaken as the oldest.

Trying to shake off the sun-daze and afternoon grogginess, Anna-Lucia found she had no words - just a huge, cheek-splitting grin, and a few irrepresible tears in the corner of her eyes. She gripped Liza's shoulder and squeezed. Liza smiled back, but her eyes were tired and new care lines were etched there.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Anna-Lucia said at last, when the silence had stretched so long it began almost to feel like another dream.

"No one knew. Not even me, until forty-eight hours ago. I fully expected to miss this year's reunion and be stuck on the beat 'til Christmas."

"Lots to report in Rome?"

"I've hardly been there - they send me all over the EU. That's the great thing about this job. Catholicity is a small operation with big dreams. I'm really the only full-time culture reporter they've got, so I have my pick of assignments. There's enough for three of me and three Giovannis besides."

"I still can't believe they get away that name."

Liza grinned wickedly. "Oh it's caused a few misunderstandings, but the reporter credentials, and the kinds of bylines I'm racking up, set them straight pretty fast."

"I hardly know anything about your job - you've sent three letters, Liza. Three, in a year and a half."

"Sixteen months, thank you very much." Liza hesitated. "It's - changing, over there. Letters aren't as... in vogue as they used to be."

Anna-Lucia looked at her sharply. "You're joking." She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, pushing away the lingering brain fog and reminding herself she was still not certain what privacy remained at home. Take nothing for granted. "I mean, nothing's more fashionable than retro, right? Where would the elite be if not at the height of fashion?"

Liza shrugged, an airy show of unconcern belied by the downturned corners of her mouth, as she reached into her bag, tossed carelessly on the ground next to her. "Whatever fires their rockets, I guess. It's pages, now. Personal pages to orally deliver messages."

Anna-Lucia felt inside, somewhere, that this was more important than she grasped, than her sister let on, but the sun had been slowly cooking her for more than an hour and Liza was pulling out of her carelessly dropped bag a thick wad of cream-colored envelopes addressed in a trailing scrawl she knew very well.

Her heart leapt. "You saw him!"

Liza shook her head, and she was pale under her tan. "These came through the postal service."

Not, Anna-Lucia registered distantly, the post office.

"That's how I found you out here, actually. I got in not twenty minutes ago and went in looking for Dad, and Grandma immediately sent me out here." Her eyes conveyed that Leah had warned her, too, they could not speak completely freely in the house. "These are all addressed to him."

Anna-Lucia stared at her. "Just to Dad? Not even one for me? Or you?"

"I tried to tell you." Liza held out the letters. "Check the dates." Swiftly, Anna-Lucia tugged the rubber bands off the thick stack and they uncompressed in her hands, spilling over her lap. Each was labeled, F1sh, followed by a string of numbers she recognized as an encoding of month, year, and - something she couldn't decipher. Location, probably.

"A year ago? The most recent one is twelve months old?"

"One's only seven."

"You've read them?"

Liza frowned at her. "I take my job seriously, Anna-Lucia."

"I'm sorry. Stupid question." Mechanically, Anna-Lucia gathered the letters back up and rebound them. "So you've had no news."

Liza just looked at her.

Understanding began to dawn, and Anna-Lucia did not like it. "That's why you came home."

"We need Uncle Kevin's address book."

"No news at all? Seven months and nothing? Not a single person knows where he is or what happened to him?"

"Will you help me find Dad?" Liza pleaded, glancing down at her watch, a slim, chic, old fashioned ladies' analog. "He needed these... yesterday."

Anna-Lucia felt as unmovable as the headstones beside her.

"Please, Anna-Lucia. I don't... I can't tell him alone."

Liza stood and held out a hand. Anna-Lucia grasped it and was hauled to her feet, stiff, half-asleep limbs complaining and uncooperative. She heaved a deep breath, involuntarily, as if she'd been swimming underwater. Their little brother had been missing for at least seven months, and no one had heard a thing.

"Dad's in the new shed."

#the next great american space novel #my writing life

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swinterr · 5 years

Text

VALERIE III

People in Twitter are twitting about a video of Val’s reaction when she saw Shawn and Camila, she received mixed comments about her reaction.

Her parents are really protective about her, even her siblings mostly Vernon. Her Dad and Mom doesn’t understand what’s happening between them, they all thought that Shawn is gonna be Valerie’s forever.

Of course Shawn saw the video. He’s not stupid, he knows that he’s hurting Val.

He also saw the message Valerie send him but he didn’t read the it because he knows he cannot stop himself on answering back.

He loves Valerie so much, but he has to do this.

When he first play the video the first came to his mind is that Valerie looks so pretty, very pretty. Valerie isn’t really like those blonde, long legged, orange tan (well she is tan but not oramge tan). She looks like a goddess. She’s perfect.

Then he saw Vernon from the background, Shawn gets along well with Valerie’s family well but Vernon is the hardest one to get along. He is scared genuinely of Vernon.

The time when Brian told him that Valerie broke up with him, he excused himself on sound check saying he wasn’t feeling well. He went back to his hotel and cried holding Valerie sweater in his chest.

He cried for the half of the day. He only went out when it’s Q&A.

He really wants to fix this but he can’t, it’s too fucked up to be fixed. He feels so powerless.

Valerie feels awful when she got back home.

She didn’t ate dinner instead she spend her whole evening, well half of it, on the gym boxing with Vernon is a good exercise but she did her exercises alone, she did it without a trainer while Vernon does cardio. Actually she didn’t even do her exercises, she just keeps punching the punching bag until her knuckles bleed, until they severely bleed. Her mom has to take her to the nearest clinic to aid her bloody knuckles.

“Val, you’re knuckles are going to bleed if you keep doing this. Stop it you’re hurting yourself.” Vernon tried reasoning with Valerie, growing more and more concerned about her and her new obsession with puching the punching bag carelessly.

“No, it’s either I ruined this punching bag or I do more stupider sh!t than this.” Valerie’s voice is quiet and cold, She always had a my-voice-is-so-soft-and-I-will-not-raise-my-voice-on-anyone-bc-that’s-rude-attitude.

“Can you at least where gloves, hand wrap is not enough you know.” Vernon reminder her.

Valerie didn’t listen and brought her fists close to her face, finding her aim and released all of her pent up anger, frustrations and pain out through quick, sharp punches, showing no mercy on the already worn punching bag wanting to release all the pain she felt in the past few weeks. Sweat glistened every inch of her body, especially in her face.

Vernon can’t even distinguish if that even is sweat or tears, her curly hair sticking to her back, arms and all angles of her face.

Val could her Vernon stopping her in the background but she didn’t listen.

Soon the punching bag falls from where it’s hanging. And Valerie knuckles are bleeding.

“Dammit Valerie! You’re bleeding! Mom!” Vernon shouts.

Ever since Val and Shawn broke up Vernon is more over-protective of Val.

She really wants to go back to Toronto, but Toronto has too much memories for her to handle. She wishes that Bella and Gigi are here with her. She’s lucky enough to have a thought, loving and caring Anwar Hadid by her side.

Gigi, Bella and Anwar (even though they live near), Aaliyah, Ana, Lauren and Dylan (her friends back home), Kiera and Darius (her dorm mates) are texting her everyday saying that everything gonna be alright and Shawn’s a dick.

She can’t wait to go back to Massachusetts and receive pity looks. Insert sarcasm.

She just needs to wait few more days until they are schedule free.

Valerie hadn’t spoken to anyone since they came back from downtown Los Angles (besided her mom and Vernon who approach her). She is currently laying in her king sized bed.

Staring at the clock, watching it tick by. 11 o’clock in the night, she should be asleep by now but her mind is somewhere far away. Far away from all this drama and chaos that is currently happening in her life.

Sobbing her heart out. Puffy eyes and runny nose are they best description of Valerie right now. Maybe a fever in the morning too.

She never wanted to end their relationship like this. To be honest they can survive this relationship, Valerie is just tired of being treated like this.

Don’t get me wrong, Shawn’s a great boyfriend but he focuses on his career more than their relationship.

People though they are perfect for each other. She thought that Shawn will be THE ONE. Her grandparents from her mother and father’s side already met and approve of Shawn even the ones who live in Florence.

She genuinely believe that they are ment to be together but jealousy got her. Her insecurities got her.

Her heart still aches profoundly with pain. She miss her so much but it’s so unfair that he moved in that quickly.

Valerie, Shawn and Camila are trending right now. Everything seems so chaotic. Her sobs still fills her big room.

Instagram stans are making up the craziest sh!ts right, some makes her laugh and some are true that makes her cry hard.

@queenval

@queenval to be honest val is the greatest thing that ever happend to shawn. i love shawn sm but he stupid!!

50,234 likes

Shawn is the greatest thing that ever happend to her.

Shawn’s fans been calling him out because of his stupid moves. Many of her fans are still supporting Valerie even if they are not together anymore.

Valerie shakily reaches for her phone she usually listens to His music when she’s sad, but at this state listening to His music will make her more sad than ever.

Malibu Nights by LANY played. Is it ironic that she is listening to Malibu Nights heartbroken and she really wants to go to Malibu. Its just a 40 minute car ride. She can survive right?

She brought a beach house recently somewhere in Pacific Coast Highway. She brought it the exact day Shawn left Canada to continue his tour, Valerie brought the house because when she will visit Shawn on his tour this will be their hiding place.

People say that Valerie have it all; Brains, Beauty, Wealth but everything means nothing if you aren’t happy right?

Decided to spent the rest of her days in Malibu. Valerie picked this big ass box that has been sent to her by a company. She didn’t even bother to read what company it is all she knows that is a clothing company. Few shoes, hoodies and her underwears on her bag.

She dressed herself into a pair of jeans and a shirt, hoodie on her arm incase she’ll needs it.

Everyone is asleep so this should be the perfect time to sneak out, she closed her room door quietly as she held the big box on her hands, struggling to balance it and keys and a Gucci bagpack filled with he laptop, personal needs, medicines and this tiny vape pen she got from Anwar.

Valerie isn’t the type of girl who does wild stuffs, stuff like normal teenagers do. Maybe that’s the reason why they broke up, she’s too boring for him.

Well now that they are over, Valerie wants to do the things she didn’t do when they were together. Things teenagers would do.

Now she be vaping, she wants to have tattooes too. Val got a rose tattoo behind her ear on her 19th birthday. She wants to add more.

Valerie successfully got down from the 3rd floor, her room, to the ground floor.

She wants to do things that she hasn’t done yet. She opened her parents wine cellar and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir with a three bottles of beer and a big bottle of her father’s whiskey.

She didn’t really want to steal this alcoholic beverage but she know that many shops out there knows her and has a high possibility that they will post pictures about her underage and buying drinks.

She puts the bottles on her bag, wanting to go to Malibu quickly, she runs towards their garage, mentally kicking herself for having a loud foot steps.

For Valerie if is she’s sad or disappointed she chooses to be alone. Being with herself alone is always the best part of her day or best time of her day.

Valerie picked the black Mercedes-Benz G wagon.

She puts her things in the passengers seat and zoomed off to Malibu.

She felt tears start to form as the now familiar burn caused her to shut

her eyes for a moment and stop at the side of the expressway she like crying. For her crying is good for her mental health because crying can help reduce pain. Oxytocin is a hormone that promotes feelings of love and Endorphins help relieve pain. These two make people feel good and may also ease both physical and emotional pain.

But sometimes crying too much can also be bad for her, too much crying can lead to depression and she doesn’t want that. All she wants is to move on and live a happy life.

But moving on takes a lot of time.

The whole drive was quiet except for the radio and her quiet sobs.

She stopped on Target along the way to pick up some food for the next few days.

Valerie pulls up on the parking lot. The Californian cold wind creeps on her arm, regretting not wearing a hood and leaving it at the car.

Valerie pulls out the vape pen as she walks along the entrance of Target, she holds it to her mouth, tasting the vanilla flavored vape before releasing it. She lets out a deep sigh with some vapor leaving along her mouth and nose she continues this few times and stopping as she enters the shop.

She just pick up fruits for breakfast, pasta, vegetables and chicken for dinner, chocolate flavored milk, a gallon of water and eggs. She likes cooking, she doesn’t buy a lot of processed foods and microwaveble foods. She payed the cashier keeps giving her looks, is it because the cashier knows her or because she is the front page of one of the magazines on the counter.

“Is this you?” the cashier ask as she types something on the computer.

“Nope.” Valerie answers back as puts the goods she brought on a biodegradable bag and puts it back to the cart.

She walk back to her car and few teenagers curiously stares at her. She struggles to put the groceries on the car because it has a big tires and obviously a tall car competed to her 5’6 self.

She finally sees her house on the view.

Her gates open, headlights giving her the view of her house as well as the Pacific Ocean. The entryway features a reclaimed European fountain and big door that open to opulent interiors.

Her house looks so homey yet loney. She is used to go on a vacation with her family or family or with Shawn.

She inserts the keys while struggling to lift her heavy backpack filled with alcoholic drinks the big box and groceries she brought are stacked upon each other.

She enters her new house, she walks on the hardwood floors pushing the box with the groceries on top, she stares at vaulted ceiling and sees a Indian stone fireplace and custom designed sitting area.

For her, a house with a fireplace and a big couch is a must.

The balcony is a sliding door that has a view of the Malibu Coast.

Valerie finally fixed her clothes on her closet, turns out the box is from Gucci. Now she has a Gucci filled closet. Yey!

Her refrigerator is filled with groceries. Yey!

It’s already 12:34 am and she is still wide awake. She sits on her couch as she finds for her cell.

She looked everywhere, her hoodie, her bag, her car, on the closet even the refrigerator.

She left it on Bel Air. Yey!

She doesn’t have anything to do she she just drinks the alcohol she brought lol! Her TV still doesn’t have any channels and her house doesn’t have a wifi.

Valerie drinks the vodka shot in one gulp, ignoring the burning sensation in her throat caused by the strong liquor.

“I love you so much why did you do this to me!” she gulped the vodka down.

“I wish I didn’t love you! But I did I’m so stupid!” she gulped the other one.

“I don’t wanna date anyone anymore!” and another one.

Despite this, Valerie’s body feels more relaxed and her mind feels lighter and more problem free. It took her couple vodka shots for achieve this but it was worth it.

The bottle is nearly empty so she just decided to drink the bottle.

It’s a quarter past midnight. The buzz has worn off, now she is just dead ass drunk.

She miraculously arrived at her room, passing the stairs and remembering her room is a miracle.

As much as she wanted to sleep she washes her face and brushed her teeth and changes in a bougee Gucci pajama and sleep on her big bed with the view of the sea like a baby.

Alcohol can really make you forget everything temporarily even pain.

taglist:

@night-girls-world

@alinashawn

@feliciaceciliamariajacobsson

I FINALLY POSTED THIS. PLEASE LOVE ITT HEHEEH

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #angst #fluff #shawn mendes angst #valerie

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harryimaginestuff · 5 years

Text

Dreams Part 2

A speedy update! This is part 2 of dreams, I hope you enjoy!

Also I changed the POV kind of so it’s now ‘you’ rather than ‘her/she’. Sorry for the inconsistency between part 1 and 2.

Word count: 2110

Genre: Angst

Harry lounges on the sofa of his friend, who was kind enough to let him crash for a while, that is, after a long and tiresome berating of why Harry was a ‘immature, selfish idiot who doesn’t know happiness even if it were to slap you in the face’.

With the break-up happening only a week ago, he could honestly say that he was doing fine, granted that after y/n slammed the door in his face that day, he sobbed into his phone to his mother, who also proceeded to give him shit for his actions. But after a week of hearing why he was making a mistake from practically everyone he knew; he was completely sick and tired of being given these lessons repeatedly.

‘This was what I wanted’ he would tell them in a sulk, annoyed that all these people thought they could lecture him on something that’s his.

Or was his.

But that was no longer the point, because he was content with his decision, deciding after a week that this breakup was good for the both of them, whether or not it was only on his terms.

He couldn’t lie though, there were countless of times where he would catch himself clicking on the photos app and scrolling mindlessly through the hundreds of images he had of the both of you. In fact, two days after his departure, after he stalked your social media filled with images of the two of you, he found himself writing you a birthday greeting. After all, he thought, after knowing you for so many years, the least he could do was wish you a happy 24thbirthday, even if you didn’t want to hear it from him.

However, a reply never came, not soon after he sent it, not as the evening approached, and definitely not now, a few days later.

Your negligence to reply clearly stated that this was permanent, and this moment was also when he realised that it would definitely be permanent for him too. So, he found himself once again scrolling through his phone, only this time it was to erase all the memories he had once shared with you. Out of sight out of mind, he figured.

“Mitch!” he shouted, grabbing the attention of his new roommate.

“Yes Harry?” Mitch replied, plonking himself besides his friend.

“Let’s go out tonight, it’ll be like old times.” Harry gasped, a sudden idea coming to his mind, “you could like wingman me or something, I would do the same for you, but you’ve got Sarah now.”

Harry watched as his best mate rubbed his forehead, an attempt to rid himself of the frown that took over his features. “Is that really a good idea Harry?” Mitch huffed, trying to work out if there was something wrong with the boy, that sat in front of him. “It’s only been a week.”

“Yeah, well m’feeling fine, really good actually, so I’d like to go out.” A smile gracing his face at the concern of his friend.

“Okay Harry, whatever you want I guess.” He stood up, dusting himself, but just before he left the room, he turned his gaze towards his friend, “and just so you know, it wasn’t you who I was concerned about.”

That night, Harry found his lips on another, much to Mitch’s dismay. However, Harry concluded as he lay in the spare from of his friend, that the freedom he received lived nowhere near his expectations. It was too tedious and dispassionate.

This led him to concluding that it was his age, maybe now that he was 25 random hook-ups in a club were no longer his thing, or maybe it was the girl’s fault for the shitty kiss, or maybe it was his, maybe because he was so out of practice that he no longer had the game he once did years ago.

As the excuses filled his head, he managed to avoid one, ironically it was the only true one. That deep within his chest unbeknownst to him, there was a small dull ache that would soon explode from within, propelling him into a sadness and guilt that was beyond his imagination.

The only thing that could be heard was the rhythmic ticking of the clock that was slowly driving y/n mad. You had been sat at your desk at work for what seemed like hours trying to get the work that was sent to you done before the end of the day.

Over the past week you had been doing everything in your power to stay distracted, whether it was working out, going to work, or mindlessly walking through the city. Although the fix was only temporary because when you returned from your work out, work or walk, you would always find yourself crying softly into your pillow at night, willing that the soft piece of furniture would somehow transform itself into the man you love.

Unsurprisingly, it never did.

Mitch had come the day before to pick up the rest of Harry’s things and y/n tried to remain nonchalant about the situation, but your curiosity got the best of you.

“How’s he doing?” You found yourself asking just before Mitch walked out of the front door.

“Honestly?” y/n nodded in response. “Good, I think. At least if he isn’t good he’s hiding it well. He made me go ou-” Mitch cut himself off, wary about his accidental confession.

“He’s been going out already?” Surprise was clear in your voice. “Did he-has he, you know.” Whatever the answer was she definitely didn’t want to hear it.

“No, he didn’t.” He struggled over whether it was his place to say, as on one hand, Harry was his best friend, but on the other, he had this broken woman in front of him who deserved to know the truth. So, he finally settled on yes, it was his place. “He kissed someone.” Mitch swore that he could’ve burst into tears in that moment as he watched your face dropped, and your skin pale.

“Oh, right. Thanks for telling me I guess.”

“I’m so sorry y/n. You don’t deserve this heartbreak right now, or ever really. I just want to let you know, that even though I was Harry’s friend before, if you ever need someone to talk to I’ll be there.”

“Thanks Mitch.” Your tone was blunt, unlike the knife that had twisted its way into your chest.

And just like that, your heart had shattered in your chest once again.

You sniffled softly at your desk, breathing deeply in an attempt to rid yourself from the tears that were brewing. You couldn’t be weak anymore, it was clear as day that Harry was dead set on his decision, and that the happy birthday message he had sent you was simply out of courtesy from sharing almost 4 birthdays with you. Although you couldn’t lie; you had wished that he followed his message with something else that showed he regretted what he did. But there was nothing, so you never replied.

“Hey y/n! Did you want to go to lunch?” the sound of your co-worker pulled you out of your thoughts. James had always had a small crush on you, pining after you in the shadows, offering himself as a friend during the time you had spent working. He was sweet and kind and constantly doing the right thing.

“Well I was going to take it in 15, but I guess I could come now.” You smiled, grabbing your bag and following him to the breakroom.

You had always enjoyed his company, platonically that it, because he was always so genuine, and although he wasn’t discreet about his crush as you had caught him staring at you on multiple occasions, he was always respectful to the relationship you had with Harry and was even respectful now, despite knowing of your recent split.

“There’s this bar that keeps getting recommended to me something… Wales.” He spoke as you both dug into your lunches.

“Oh! The Prince of Wales,” he nodded, “I know it, I love it there.” In fact, you and Harry loved it there, it was where you spent your first year anniversary, both of you rejecting the idea of a fancy dinner, and was where you both celebrated each of your birthdays every year, after deeming it a special place in your hearts.

James smiled at this, his heart fluttering at the opportunity. “We should go then, sometime after work next week.”

You smiled lightly in return, hesitantly replying, “Um, yeah sure. I guess. I love to bring my friends there.”

“Great, it’s a date.”

‘No, it’s not really’ you thought, but grinned softly instead, unwilling to correct your kind friend.

Another week had passed, and Harry had never felt so shit in his life. Guilt consumed him, and still was, squeezing itself into his mind any way that it could.

Mitch had returned from picking up the rest of Harry’s belongings the other day, where he then proceeded to dump his things on the bed where Harry lay.

“She’s miserable.” Mitch suddenly said, bitterness overtaking his features. “I don’t care whether or not you were going to ask but I thought you should at least know about the repercussions of your actions.”

Mitch’s words had been playing over and over in Harry’s head over the last few days, doing nothing but feeding the guilt and sadness that had hidden itself previously. But Harry was starving, and the only thing that would satisfy him was you.

He couldn’t believe what he had done, first he broke it off with the woman he was sure he would spend his life with, and second, not even a week later he kissed someone else. He was sick to his stomach, ill with guilt, and it was all his fault.

“Fuck fuck fuck.”

He wanted to see your face. He needed to. But his previous idiotic behaviour had led him to carelessly remove any trace of you he had on his phone. Which is why he resorted to stalking you on social media, desperate to find evidence that you were in love because the heartbreak he felt wasn’t enough.

But there was nothing there.

Only pictures of you on your own and other bits and bobs that you felt was necessary to show the world. It seemed like there was everything but him.

You had deleted the evidence as well it seemed.

“Shit!” He screamed and in his rage kicked the boxes of his things that came from yours. “Stupid box.” He grunted, emptying its contents and destroying anything he could lay his hands on.

As his anger subsided and the sadness returned, tears pricked his eyes blinding him, as he sobbed at the image in front of him.

Once again he was careless and stupid and selfish because in his hands was the last physical image of you and him, sitting in a bar on your first anniversary, but there was a ragged tear coincidently right down the middle, ripping you and him apart.

“No no no no no no no.” he repeated, crying loudly as he pieced the image back together This could have been the both of you now. Right in this moment, but he had decided that he had other dreams he wanted to follow.

He found himself running desperately to Mitch who was startled at the sight of his friend. “I ripped it.” He mumbled, showing the broken picture to his friend.

“Um, what?” Mitch questioned, confused and concerned about the state of him.

“Look I ripped it!” Harry said more aggressively this time. “I did this, I ripped it, I broke it. And look, as if a cruel joke from the universe, it ripped right down the middle, and now they’re two separate pictures. One of me and one of her. I did this, I ripped it. I tore it apart.”

Mitch’s mouth was hung open, as he listened to the crazy ramble. “Harry, calm down. C’mon we can fix it, I’ve got tape in the kitchen.”

Mitch tried to reach for Harry’s arm, but he wasn’t having any of it. “No.” Harry shouted, causing Mitch’s arm to recoil in defence. “You don’t get it. I fucked it up, I lost her because I was an immature, selfish idiot like you said.”

“Okay, I shouldn’t have called yo-” he was cut off as Harry suddenly spun around and bolted for the door, the picture leaving his hands and falling to the floor.

“Shit, he’s gone mad.” Mitch mumbled, pulling out his phone and dialling your number.

But you never answered.

I hope you enjoyed this! There’s going to be a part 3 because I couldn't fit everything I wanted to put in this post so that should be coming soonish

#harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines

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jjkpls · 6 years

Text

Mean Yoongi (m)

> genre : light smut, fluffy (?) drabble

> pairing : min yoongi x reader

> words : 4.2k

> warnings : spanking, language

> Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

> A/N : i don’t even know... i blame the Cyphers for this.

> next

Mean Yoongi 11:39: I believe I asked you to just water the plants

That is not quite close to the answer I expected from him.

How disappointing.

Sort of. I mean, I’ve known him for quite some time now. I would not say that we are that close but I sure know him well. There’s one thing about him, one constant in his behaviour, he never misses an occasion to turn down someone’s expectation.

He is just not a pleaser. I could tell that from the very get-go when, the first time we met, I saw his scrunched in what appeared to be strong disgust face when I thanked him for his (accidental) nice manners he showed.

I took it personally that time. I thought he hated me for some reason and if I’m being a hundred per cent honest, I was so vexed I started nourishing strong hatred for the guy. However, my friend Taehyung was quick to apologize on his behalf. He explained to me that actually Yoongi showing any kind of emotions around me, plus on a first encounter, was quite phenomenal and that I should feel very special. He added that Yoongi did not have enough energy to hate anyone, that I should not worry about it and that he was pretty sure he thought I was somewhat cool because he did not hiss like a mad cat when Tae mentioned that I were to visit often from now on.

So yeah, Min Yoongi is grumpy as hell and he will only ever satisfy your expectations of disappointment.

I am not sure what I was waiting for anyway.

Maybe him sending me a rude voice message cursing at me and my whole family. Or at least, the prelude of a diss track about my ass. That would have been fun.

But I forgot: Min Yoongi is not a funny guy.

I don’t even know why I like him.

The people I usually want to befriend with are quite the opposite of his kind. Kim Taehyung, for example. A bubbly, kind, cheerful, extraverted social-butterfly. Slipping on the borderline of insolence sometimes but never plain rude. He is a magnet to people.

Min Yoongi is like… I don’t know, a leaf blower? You approach him and he just throws all his unlikeable traits in your face so that he’s sure you won’t persist in trying to interact with him. He says there is no point in making himself all sweet and likeable when he hates to do that, simply because he already has too many friends. Which well, is kind of true.

But me being me, me not being able to live with myself if I show any kind of unpretty traits to any human beings (actually, to other animals too); well, for me, it’s a bit insane. I could not live this carelessly. That is why sometimes it amazes me how I can actually want to be his friend and not hate him for being a massive dick.

It doesn’t take me too long to remember though. The little slip up that his mouth has sometimes when no one is really watching. He always looks bored out of his mind if not mad even, but sometimes, I can catch from the corner of my eye his lips stretching gently in a gummy smile.

He looks like a turtle when he smiles -which may be the reason why he doesn’t do it that much- and it makes my heart so warm because his seems to be on his sleeve during these very rare moments.

After some time, I came to realize that he does care about what is surrounding him, sometimes. He is not the kind to get super into the action, he’s more of an observant and doesn’t manifest himself that much. Also when he does intervene, he always has that attitude, half-shut eyes not even looking in our direction, voice stern, firm but quiet so that everybody needs to shut up to hear him -and of course, everybody does-, all slumped on himself. And he says the most relevant things.

Like really. Things smart or important or even deep. And everybody’s left shook for an instant.

That’s also why I like him. He seems to be a huge asshole but in reality, he’s cool. He’s an artist, an incredible one. He’s so passionate, smart, and loving -even if he doesn’t show it that much, all that knows him knows that it’s there. I want him to teach me what he is doing even if I will probably never use this knowledge, and just talk and teach and explain to me how the hell he is doing so good at living this life. I want to be more like him -not the asshole part. That’s why I want to be his friend. For him to show me.

Also, he definitely does not hate me. I have doubted that fact for the longest time until their depart, last week when he sent me a text from his own phone for me to come over. I was so fucking excited I could not even deal with myself as if my long-time crush has contacted me for the first time. It actually felt better than that since well, no matter how desolate my love life is, I still saw way more chances of my crush I didn’t even have to call me than fucking Min Yoongi. Statistically, I thought there was no discussion to hold.

When I arrived, there was no crazy warm friendship reunion or whatever. Without bothering asking how I’ve been, he just led me to his studio, presented briefly the three plants hanging on a shelf and said I had to water them while he was gone.

“Can’t you pay someone to do that ?”

“Why would I pay someone to do it when you’ll do it for free.”

For so many reasons, I appreciate this friend. Even when he was looking at me with his stupid bored eyes, eyebrows raised in a what-non-sense-are-you-saying-i-don’t-have-time-for-this fashion. He knows how to test people’s patience.

“Okay. I’ll do it, Yoongi.”

He shakes his head in confusion. As if he wasn’t asking. Which I knew he wasn’t but well… People are not supposed to be that rude. Usually, people pretend to ask for a favour to people that pretend to do them a favour when, obviously in most friendships, there is an unspoken rule of obligation. You don’t really have a choice to say yes because people get easily pissed for things like that. But at least, they pretend. I haven’t seen him in over a few weeks and it’s like I forgot how inadequate he was. It’s hard to put up with his shit when you’re not mentally prepared for it. I guess I was so excited I didn’t even take the time to take a much-needed meditation before coming.

“Do you need to be so rude? You didn’t even ask how I am doing.”

“You look okay. You’re not ?” He asks, actually making the effort to look at me.

“No, I’m good.”

He clicks his tongue at that, obviously annoyed. This is insane how that old man can make you feel guilty for just conversing with him. As if I’m sucking the power out of his body and pushing him closer to death with each word I’m stealing out of his mouth.

“Great. You can go now, thank you.”

The sarcasm is so thick in his voice I know none of my disillusions can cut through it.

“Don’t you want me to hang out with you for a bit ?” I am half-giggling now, battling my eyelashes his way because I know he hates it and I know he doesn’t want me here. Unsurprisingly, he groans and proceeds to shove me out of his studio calling for Taehyung’s name so that he’ll keep me away. I want to insist more, be as annoying as possible, any reaction is a reaction, but he’s too quick to slam the door on me and lock it down.Taehyung is standing at the end of the hallway, looking rather confused.

“Dude, I won him over. He’s totally my friend!”

“Congrats, dumbass.”

That was about a week ago. Since then, he did not contact me.

He asked twice how his plants were doing and if I haven’t fucked anything up in his studio, but he did not even bother addressing me himself, he asked through Taehyung. Which I thought was incredibly rude.I know it is his way. I’m not even sincerely upset. But still, I wanted to bite him a little bit.

He always shows extreme annoyance but deep down, I’m sure he’s entertained.

So this is why, I felt like sending him a video of myself in his studio, dancing wildly with an opened bottle of beer in one hand, screaming approximative lyrics to his own band’s songs between hysterical peals of laughter. If there is one thing that pisses Min Yoongi off, it’s when “stupid kids mess with his shit”. His precious studio he spent days planning, customizing, bringing up with all those expensive sophisticated technologies, is definitely on top of the do-not-mess-with list. I can still remember distinctly him, when he gave me the instructions for his plants, insisting so much on how careful I needed to be when I’ll be coming in here. Bring a half-filled cup at a time, I don’t care how many back and forth you’ll need to do, and as soon as you’re done watering you get out, do not touch anything I’m warning you, all you need to touch is the door handle so you don’t stick your fingers anywhere else, got it ?

I felt like a little kid again, getting scolded by my parents and I hated that honestly. So of course, like a kid that’s been told so harshly to back off, I didn’t feel like listening. Also, I was curious to hear what their fire rap songs sounded like on his insane equipment. And damn, was I not disappointed.

The dancing while drinking beer came out of nowhere but was to be anticipated honestly. This studio was insanely fun. I understand why he just buries himself in there and never wants to go catch a glimpse of sun. As he is away, I wanted to show him that his studio was still preciously cared for and appreciated.Well, all this nonsense is the result of me trying to find good excuses when he’ll ask for them.But of course, Min Yoongi who never disappoints to disappoint does not even ask for anything.

Y/N 11:42: Goddamn those bassssss duuuude

Sitting nicely in his cosy leather chair, simply shaking my foot to the music, I wait not so patiently for something to happen. No matter how hard I stare at my phone, the screen remains sadly dark. What a prick.

Laying back, I spin a little. He really is no fun. Maybe I should send him a video of me pretending to spill my beer all over his computer. I could make a dramatic shaking camera filming, cut abruptly through a panic scream type of video like those prank videos gone wrong. Or maybe I should really spill my drink. No, he would hate me for real if not actually murder me. Not a good idea to get us closer. Defeated, I’m already gathering my belongings, turning off his computer, ready to abort when my phone finally rings.

TaeTae 11:59 : ___ stop now

TaeTae 11:59: I think ur going to die

Y/N 00:01: Tell him he should not get too mad it’s not good for old hearts

TaeTae 00:01: He’s not amused dumbie

TaeTae 00:03: You definitely are dying

TaeTae 00:03: Youre insane whats wrong with u

Y/N 00:11: pff u guys stink anywayYes indeed, real mature.

This happens often anyway. Not that Taehyung and his band members are your only friends. But they’re still a great source of entertainment. And when all your other friends (who don’t happen to be very numerous anyway) are all busy living their adult lives, well, it gets pretty fucking boring. Especially since you’ve just learned that you’ve made progress with the Mean Yoongi, the evolution of your friendship being the biggest quest of your life at the moment.It feels like one of this mobile game when at the very moment the game starts being fun, they make you wait for like 24 hours for you to get more gems to be able to keep playing. Except those Yoongi gems don’t take a day or two, they take two fucking weeks.

How am I supposed to be able to develop a strong friendship with so little constancy? There is no proper link between the two of us, especially because he chooses not to contact me when he is gone.

That must be the reason why, when four days later they finally come back from their tour, I kind of forgot everything about the past incident. How vexed I felt that he ignored me. And how apprehensive I should probably feel towards his reaction. Quite frankly, I’m too excited and I feel like, once he’ll have checked his studio for any dysfunction and realize everything’s good, he won’t even think about it anymore.

He might give me the stinky eye but I don’t envisage much more.When Jimin opens the door for me, smiling warmly, no commotion taking place in the background, I assume I’m all clear. Then there is a giant all-limb creature coming up to me, wrapping me in a suffocating hug and I definitely forget all about Mean Yoongi. Taehyung smiles down at me and I feel my cheeks burn with happiness. I always forget how much I miss seeing him in real, feeling his warmth and his smell -even though most often than not, he smells of sweat- until he wraps himself around me completely and kisses my head hello. I just feel bored when he’s not there, but meeting him again reminds me that it’s way more than just boresome.

Also, he is not embarrassed to show how much he missed me too, and that’s important. I just get to wave at few of the boys before he’s dragging me through the hallway to the bedroom he shares with Namjoon. The latter is standing next to his bed, trying to sort out his luggage. When he sees me, he politely tries to engage conversation but Taehyung is quick to shut him up because we have important things to do. His elder, acquainted with his antics, doesn’t even seem fazed and keeps arranging his clothes. He’s lucky he’s cute. If it were anyone else, I don’t think a leader like Namjoon would have accepted to be disrespected like that.

The very important things we need to do is simply Taehyung having to show me every single one picture he took (included the dozens of to-make-sure-he-got-it-right versions that almost all pictures have) and explaining everything that has happened.I don’t hate it. It is quite funny and touching to see someone so excited and passionate about sharing and it allows me to travel a little bit. I don’t even remember the last time I actually went on vacation. I love feeding off of his passionate tale-telling. But after an hour of monologue on his part, I start feeling my eyelids getting heavy, my eyes itchy and no matter how many times I try to switch positions, there’s not any comfortable one left.

“You. Come with me.” Taehyung, I and even Namjoon stare at the wide-open door where an agitated-looking Yoongi is standing. What a way to make a dramatic entrance. He simply glares back at me, eyebrows raised high in impatience.

“Hyung, we were talking-”

“You’ll talk later. Come on.”

He doesn’t even wait for an answer and disappears in the hallway. Taehyung releases a deep sigh. His face matches Namjoon’s. They don’t look annoyed but worried and it makes my heart beats harshly in my chest. Maybe he did not calm down since the video. Is it why he did not talk to me at all? He was making sure to keep his rage nicely tucked inside so it would not waver down until he can finally come back and lash at me full force?

I stare into Taehyung’s shiny puppy eyes for comfort but it makes it worse. Then, Namjoon is patting my back for some courage I guess. When I arrived in the hallway, the open door of Yoongi’s studio on the other end, it really feels like I’m walking the fucking death corridor. He can’t sincerely be mad, can he? The next day, Jimin and even Hoseok had seen the video and said they thought it was hilarious (suicidal and very irresponsible but hilarious).

Leaning forward in his chair, smoothly slipping a hand behind me to close the door with the tips of his fingers, his eyes don’t leave me for a second. I can’t even see him blink once. It’s probably more eye contact we’ve ever shared in all of our friendship history. Ultimately, embarrassed and scared, I end up looking down at my feet.What have I done?

An eternity passes. And then, Yoongi is on his feet, standing right in front of me and quite frankly too close for comfort. As I don’t dare to raise my eyes, he bends over a little for his to meet mines. My heart is beating so fast I’m scared it might stop forever from exhaustion. I do manage to glimpse at him for a second and he is smiling. He is actually smiling. Not one of his full turtle smile but a sneaky, cocky kind of side grin.

“Oh, now you’re scared ?”

“I’m not. It was just a joke ‘cause you were rude.” I mumble, meeting his intense gaze by intermittence.

“It wasn’t funny though, __. Of course, you understand that if you don’t get words, I still have to get the rules in this thick head of yours somehow, uh ?”

Frowning, I open my mouth, trying to get a proper question out. He is so confusing right now. He looks actually… dare I say- playful? Mean Yoongi is actually messing around right now. And I don’t even get what he means. He might be right, my brain happens to be particularly slow today.

I have a properly structured question to shoot him with but he decides he waited enough and taking advantage of the surprise, pushes me down on the little sofa opposite his desk. I curse at him, try to get back up but I just have the time to raise on my hands and knees before I feel a sharp pain burning my ass.

Did he really just…?

His face his harbouring a large amused smirk, not fazed for a second by my astonished expression. Then he makes his eyebrow dance in an extremely insolent what-you-gonna-do-about-it way and I just lose it.

“Oh really ?! You’re just going to spank me like a child? Am I Jungkook ?”

“Actually, that kid wouldn’t dare do what you did so I’ll be a little harsher than I usually am. Bear with me.”

Another slap erupts in the small room, followed by another laughter. I don’t even know why I’m laughing anymore. Maybe the light burning is making me delirious. Or maybe because the situation is fucking ridiculous. Even as a child, I’ve never been spanked and here I am, supposedly a grown-ass adult, all four on a leather sofa too small for me to even lie on, getting spanked like never before by a friend of some sort.

At some point, finally, I seem to regain some kind of sense and I come to realise that the more I’m laughing and fidgeting, the harder his hits get. Therefore, for once, I choose the careful approach and manage to control my hysterical reactions.

“Are you calming down hoping that I’ll believe you got it? I know you don’t yet. That head of yours is just so thick.”

“My asscheeks are going to fall off, Yoongi.” I moan making him chuckle.He grabs with a hand my hip, holding my side against the top of his thighs, helping my failing knees to keep me from slumping over.

“You’re fine, __.”

As if trying to show some mercy, he passes rather gently his free hand on the surface of my ass, the high back of my thighs. And I think that’s the very moment when something switches. As if someone has just press a button spraying a whole different atmosphere in the small room. I become super aware of everything. From how close we are, he is pressing me against him so hard I could feel his body heat. His fingers on my hips digging slightly in a way that made me feel all giddy for some reason. It was burning hot in here and the leather of the couch is uncomfortably sticking to my palms. I can still visualize the scene as I did minutes before when I was fighting to breathe through my laughter but it all feels different. As if a filter has been added on the picture or something.

I am starting to make inappropriate connections with lame erotic books’ situations when I decide to give myself a serious mental beat up. My thoughts are all shambled. Seriously. It’s just all childish innocent fun. Nothing is different from a few minutes ago when I thought it was just ridiculous and hilarious. It’s exactly the same kind of play as Taehyung, the BFF, locking my head under his smelly armpit and wrestling until we-

But then I feel it. Digging obnoxiously precisely where my hip meets his body. My whole being burns uncomfortably. I gasp out loud so I know he knows that I’ve felt it. Still, he doesn’t squirm away or even lighten his grip on me. He just acts like everything is fucking normal and he should not feel mortified or at least, embarrassed. He keeps playing with my butt, switching between harsh slaps and soft petting, taunting me with stupid remonstrances. Still, the weirdest thing in this whole situation though, is probably how I feel about his hardness against me. I’m not disgusted by it which is… surprising. Not that I think about his boner all the time and anticipated to be grossed out if I ever were to encounter it. I don’t remember ever thinking about it, in all honesty. That’s why it seems so surreal. Me being me, I need some fucking preparation beforehand to not freak out on the spot but here I never thought of Yoongi like that and still, feeling him hot and hard against me makes me feel all tingly.

In the end, it is his boner that works on me. I can’t even hear his words anymore as he tries so hard to insert the rules inside my head. His voice is just like a background white noise I can’t seem to give the least damn about. I’m so shy and intimidated that I can’t help but turn into a pliant kitten. That’s when Yoongi decides I’ve had enough and releases me. He helps me sit up, grinning my way when he sees me wince a little at my ass hitting painfully the sofa. He crosses his arms on his chest, looks down at me as he asks what I’ve learned from my punishment and like a good pet -when really, I’m just stunned by the very obvious presence of his semi-hard, through his fucking light sweatpants, centimetres away from my face- I stutter what I was able to gather from the distant pieces of his voice. He smiles to himself, nodding.

“What are you looking at ?”

“Nothing!” My face is burning, I’m sure he can’t miss it. Probably can’t miss it just as the stupid blatant glare I gave his dick thinking he wouldn’t notice.

“I like spanking.” He explains matter of factly. I don’t know if I’m more stoned by the casualness in his admission or just by the fact that he actually justified himself, for the first time ever. This Min Yoongi is so different from the one that left two weeks ago. I feel like I should but I’m not sure if I detest that. One thing those two versions have in common though is their shamelessness and their total lack of self-consciousness. I have this completely confirmed to me when he readjusts himself in his pants, right in front of me, while still looking at me dead in the eye.

“Well- Grea-ood, good for you, dude.”

I, on the contrary, didn’t change one bit and I’m as uncasual as I always am in this type of situations.His lips twitch slightly. Without adding anything, he’s seeing himself out and I’m left confused as hell. As my affected mind proceeds to regain calm and sanity, it maunders and falls upon a thought that I don’t manage to repress. He does spank Kookie when the kid is being a little shit sometimes.

“What are you doing ?”

Tae’s holding the door wide open, glaring at me with suspicious eyes.

“Why are you so red ?”

“I’m not, shut up.”

> next

#yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts scenario #bts drabble #yoongi smut #yoongi drabble #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff

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onewaywardwitch · 6 years

Text

Just A Typo (2/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: Just a bit of language

Word Count: 2140

A/N: Ahhh the feedback on part 1 was amazing! Thank you all so much! Here’s part 2!

There are moments in your life when you know you’ve screwed up. Like when you decide to try the new Starbucks coffee, only to realise it’s as horrible as you predicted, and you’ve wasted €5. Or when you spend all night binge-watching some show on Netflix when you know you’ve got to get up early for work the next morning. Or when you agree to hack into one of the world’s best security systems to fuel your own ego and diminish your friend’s one. And while I've found myself in the first two situations many times, the third was a new one for me.

“I promise to visit you at least once a month when you get sent to Alcatraz,” Becca sang as she all but skipped into Angie’s apartment to join the rest of us. I laughed sarcastically.

“Sent to Alcatraz for hacking? Crime expectations must be low lately if they’re sending hackers there.”

“I’m sure Tony Stark has some pull in the government to get you put away there. You know, when you get caught,” she gloated. It was obvious she thought I was heading down the same route as Sophie. Her confidence only made me want to prove her wrong even more.

Angie ignored our seemingly never-ending banter and carried on setting up my laptop and other work necessities.

“I still don’t understand why you have to have a pack of Haribo with you every time you do something illegal,” she sighed, glaring at me as I stood with Becca.

“Well it’s just common sense, Angie. I can’t have chocolate, it’ll get all over my hands. Biscuits leave crumbs everywhere and hot chocolate is a recipe for disaster,” I replied, keeping my face as straight as I could.

“No, I don’t get why you need sweets at all!”

“That’s a stupid question. You always need sweets. We can’t all live off boiled vegetables and whole-grain everything.”

Angie just looked at Becca in defeat, who shrugged her shoulders.

“Hey, if I get the job done, who cares what I eat?” I strutted over to the table that had my laptop on it. Unfortunately, my confident walk did nothing to ease my nerves as my friends watched on eagerly.

~~~~~

“Becca, I swear to Thor if you breathe on my neck again, I’ll break yours,” I snapped. Becca and Angie shared a nervous glance while I typed furiously, the lines and lines of code beginning to make me dizzy.

“Y/N, you’ve proven your point. Your brilliant. A mastermind. A true gift to the hacking community. You can quit now, it’s alright.” Becca was beginning to regret ever provoking me when she saw how much more advanced Stark’s system was compared to the systems we would normally attack for a laugh.

I could sense Angie about to open her mouth when the screen suddenly went blank and the three of us froze where we were; Becca leaning over my shoulder, Angie holding her third cup of herbal tea, and me with jelly rings on each of my extremely tired fingers.

The screen flashed once, before several different boxes popped up. It took each of us about seven seconds to realise we were looking at the feed from the security cameras placed around Avengers Tower.

“Holy shit,” whispered Angie.

“I am the greatest and I’m completely unappreciated in my time,” I grinned, my eyes flickering from each small screen.

“IS THAT BLACK WIDOW?”

“Agh! Becs, inside voice please.” Becca refused to acknowledge my complaint. Her gaze was fixated on the image of the Natasha Romanoff eating what I guessed was-

“A poptart! I have those all the time, we’re practically soulmates!” Becca exclaimed.

As Angie tried to explain to Becca that her comment was only a bit unrealistic, I gazed at each of screens on my laptop. Who would have thought that the Falcon would be spending his day holding something shiny while running away from a very angry, one-armed Winter Soldier? Or that Hawkeye drinks milk straight from the carton and puts it back in the fridge when no one’s looking?

Just as Becca started to talk about the Black Widow’s hair (“I could never pull off the red like she does!”), the laptop flashed black, before more lines of code began popping up again.

“Oh shit, we’re busted. Angie, gummy bear, now,“ I demanded, quickly returning to my state of concentration (which was difficult after seeing Captain America lifting weights). Angie grabbed the bag and put one of the bears in my mouth, only for me to spit it out in disgust.

“Not a yellow one, a red! I'm not a monster,” I yelped before turning back to the task at hand. Nervously chewing on the nicest flavoured gummy bear, I attempted to keep up with Stark’s excellent security.

“Make sure you can’t be traced. Keep the IP address hidden and get out,” I heard Angie mutter behind me. After a couple of minutes, I felt myself relax, watching the screen change to my regular background of the Supernatural cast.

“We are out and I’m going to go down in history as the greatest hacker that ever existed.” I spun in my chair, grinning at the girls as my confidence rose again. “I just hacked into Avengers Tower, admired Captain America’s incredibly toned body for a bit, before successfully leaving without giving away my location or any way for them to trace me. How was that for you Becca?”

She looked at me, a small smile growing on her face. “I'm impressed, Y/N. Shame Sophie’s not here so you could gloat to her too, but that was pretty awesome.”

“I can’t believe you pulled that off,” Angie said admirably, her herbal tea long forgotten on the nearby countertop. I winked at her and held out the nearly empty bag of Haribos.

“Yellow gummy bear anyone?”

~~~~~

Tony Stark was busy doing nothing in his lab with Dr Banner when F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced that someone was hacking into their system.

“Well what are you waiting for F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Flush ‘em out. And get their location.”

“Sir, they’ve already broke down our firewalls and accessed our cameras.”

That caught Tony’s attention. He looked at Bruce confusedly before again telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to get whoever it was out of their system using whatever means necessary. As the A.I. was occupied with that, he called all the Avengers to the briefing room.

~~~~~

“Barnes, if you could stop murdering Wilson with your eyes for just five minutes so we can start?”

Bucky turned and aimed his glare at Tony instead, still scowling that Sam had somehow managed to steal his arm for nearly half an hour. That man knew all the best hiding places in this tower.

Tony rolled his eyes and clapped his hands together, deciding to get straight to the point. “Nothing to worry about, but someone hacked into the tower and accessed all of the cameras. We don’t know who or why, but F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s nearly got a location, I think.”

The uproar was immediate.

“I thought your security was the best there is!”

“How long have they been watching us?”

“What else have they hacked into?”

Tony grimaced as all the voices overlapped and became louder. His embarrassment that some computer nerd cracked his online defences was obvious from the lack of his usual playful tone and he wasn’t in the mood for messing about now. He opened his mouth but before he could speak, F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice rang through the room, effectively shutting everyone up.

“Sir, I believe I have the location of the hacker. It appears they made a slight typing error when concealing their IP address.”

“A typo? Rookie mistake,” Sam mumbled.

“That ‘rookie’ managed to hack into all our cameras pretty quickly,” Bruce stated, looking at Sam pointedly.

“Okay, Cap, take your brooding boyfriend in the corner and bring in whoever it is. It's nowhere near any known HYDRA bases, so my guess? A group of boys hiding out in one of their mom’s basements. Shouldn’t be too difficult.” Steve nodded at Tony and made his way over to Bucky while everyone else left the room, still discussing the infiltrator who was able to beat the great Tony Stark.

~~~~~

Steve looked around the apartment in surprise. This was definitely not what they were expecting. The place was clean and lacked any personal touches. That is, if he weren’t including the many Funko Pop figures that were scattered seemingly at random throughout the apartment. He moved towards the laptop that was laying carelessly on the kitchen table.

“Just talked to the landlady,” Bucky said, gesturing towards the front door where a woman in her mid-fifties stood excitedly, trying to catch a glimpse of the great Captain America. Bucky waved his flesh hand at her, hoping she’d get the message to leave them alone. Fortunately for him, one of the neighbours came out and started complaining to her about the thin walls. That made her run off quickly.

“Apartment is owned by a woman in her late twenties, early thirties. She asked to be kept off the books, and your admirer back there had no problem with that because she always paid her rent on time and by cash.”

“Does she have any idea where she could be now?” Steve asked, closing over the front door again so they wouldn’t raise any suspicions.

“She said she left around three hours ago, hopefully to get some food. Her fridge is empty. Except for a tub of ice-cream,” Bucky snorted.

They both stopped talking when they heard the rustling of keys just outside the door. Bucky went to stand beside Steve, who was back beside the laptop. He placed a hand over the gun he always carried in his trousers as the door opened. But he felt himself relax a bit when he heard a familiar tune.

“Is that… Queen?” Steve whispered as the woman began humming to herself. Natasha had taken it upon herself to educate the two veterans on all the music they had missed out on in the past seventy years, including Queen, Michael Jackson, and Adele. This was one of the few songs they actually recognised.

The woman stumbled into the kitchen, struggling to carry all the shopping bags she had tried to carry up in one trip. Her headphones were blaring Bohemian Rhapsody loud enough for the two men to hear clearly. They shared a look of surprise as she still hadn’t noticed them standing a few feet behind her.

~~~~~

“But now I’ve gone and thrown it all away,” I sang quietly to myself as I restocked my fridge. I was still on a high from my incredible success with Becca and Angie only a few hours ago. We were going to celebrate with Angie’s cheap champagne, before Becca realised she was about two hours late for work. I left shortly after her to buy more ice-cream, which quickly turned into buying half the grocery store.

“Mama, oooo- OH WHAT THE FUCK!” My dramatic spin while singing didn’t end as well as I had planned. I wasn’t exactly prepared for the two super soldiers who stood by my table, watching me with humour. I tugged my headphones out of my ears and stared at them dumbstruck.

“Captain America… wow such an honour… you’re very… wow. And the Winter Barnes! Oh god, there’s a ‘soldier’ in there somewhere, isn’t there? Very, very… broad.” My voice died off towards the end as the word came out of my mouth too quickly for me to recognise them. The Captain’s eyes sparkled in amusement, while the Winter Soldier was looking at me with interest. He failed to see how this woman caused Stark so much concern.

Captain America opened his mouth to speak, but at that exact moment I coped why two Avengers were standing in my apartment.

“Oh, this is about the whole Avengers Tower thing, isn’t it? The camera, the hacking… I'm not evil! I wasn’t planning on accessing any confidential information and selling it! I don’t do that, I was just messing with friends, I swear!” Apparently, I had lost all control over my own mouth and I confessed to everything without either of the men saying a word. They glanced at each other before Captain Rogers turned back to me.

“You understand we need to bring you in anyway. We have questions you need answer back at the tower.”

I nodded nervously at the pair as they escorted me downstairs to where a car was waiting outside, the Soldier bringing my laptop with him.

“This explains why Nora was in such a good mood when I passed her on the stairs earlier,” I thought to myself. “She never smiles when I pay her my rent, but one visit from America’s golden boy has her skipping to her door!”

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alcttass-blog · 5 years

Text

Is that KYLIE JENNER?! No it’s just ALETTA ANTOUN. From our interview we have heard that the TANTALIZING is apparently a SOCIALITE AND INFLUENCER who’s been living a lavish lifestyle in LAS VEGAS with 67.1 M followers! Now that they’ve signed a contact to pricelesshqs fans will be ecstatic to see them on screen. But rumor has it they are hard to deal with as they’re FINICKY, IMPETUOUS, OBSTREPEROUS. Fortunately for us we’ve heard they’re actually EFFULGENT, COMPASSIONATE, VEHEMENT. Let’s see how they survive our show while they arrive in the luxurious life of pricelesshqs!

hi hello !! im gianna and this is my angel love aletta !! i kind of rearranged her bio to fit so ?? if things dont make sense its my stupid ass fault asdfgh . on another note im super excited to jump into this and if you want to plot give this a heart or message me !!

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓬𝓼

full name : aletta josephine antoun. nickname : aj, alet, letty. age : twenty one. birthday : february sixteenth, nineteen ninety eight thus making her an aquarius. gender / pronouns : cisfemale / she and her. sexual orientation : heterosexual. romantic orientation : heteroromantic. spoken languages : english, italian, spanish. hometown : las vegas, nevada. parents : carmine gwyar and natalia antoun . carmine is the founder of karma ( casino ) and carmine hotel , two million dollar businesses that are spread throughout not only las vegas, but the rest of the states. her mother is an retired model who happens to be an author that just published the third book to her series ‘the others’, an dystopian novel. siblings : apollo bennett gwyar, claudio emanuel antoun, atlas james gwyar, natasha maeve gwyar, angelo cyrus antoun, julius sebastian antoun. goals : to live fully. tropes / personality : the effervescent , the rich party girl , the globetrotter , should of been business mogul , the icarian , the lover of all things beauty.

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝔀𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂

gwyar , means “gore” or “spilled blood, bloodshed” in old welsh ; a definition that runs deeper than words written on faded pages , and instead carved themselves in human flesh. the name spreads silent fear across the streets of las vegas .. entangles itself within the eyes of the locals while being drowned out by the drunken happiness of tourists . spilling blood is what the gwyar’s have done for generations , from the moment diego gwyar’s foot landed on the broken sidewalks of las vegas it was said blood washed over the city like a storm . the family , they are tied into an lifestyle that screamed of violence , drugs , but most importantly power . no matter who’s face it stared at, it always had a habit of filling your lungs and causing you to drown in it .

aletta josephine was birthed to swim in the danger , to succeed . her father’s business was her legacy , his ties were her responsibilities . she was to fall in line , to make her daddy proud . and for a while , she did . she played the part, did her part . watched from the sidelines , included herself when she had to , she did it all . aletta drowned in the sensation of having such a power that it made those around her drop to their knees and beg . at sixteen she felt holy , at eighteen she felt sick to her stomach.

the lifestyle was a high , sent her emotions playing a game of how far can you drop once you hit your high . she should of felt blessed , protected , privilege , mighty . but all she wanted to do was run .. her brother use to tell her, “ letty, you cant have the highs without the lows .. especially with this.” it took a long time for her to understand that the diamonds that sat on her neck , the cars that sat in her driveway , the clothes that mountain her closest came with the blood , tears , the pain. she could not be the mob bosses daughter , without the mob boss.

at seventeen , she broke away from her fathers grasp . decided to chase her passion with hope that the darkness from her father would not follow . her family should her mixed reactions , splitting into two directions ; her mother spilled of happiness. excited to think of an future for her child where she was alive , healthy , living her life the way she wanted to .. and her father ? decided that if you did not stand with the business, his choices, that you did not stand with him. he made her choose, and so she did. she jumped into the influencing industry before launching aletta beauty , a dream that turned into an empire ..

𝓽𝓱�� 𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓼

crazed oceans swimming under neath sun kissed skies , the soft smell of vanilla dancing across exposed skin , gentle nudes blending into hard oranges, peach vodka lingering on plump lips , warm orbs drowning in dark features , acrylic nails tapping anxiously , gold jewelry sitting on long fingers , cursive tattoos carved into ribs , quiet cries drowning in a dark sky , thunder distracting worried minds , affectionate touches , losing yourself in others for the sensation of warmth , loud music drowning out sorrows , happiness banging on brick walls for freedom , light giggles in the dead of the night , smooth lips pressed to bare skin , fingers interlocked with another , a constant craving to be loved dipping into skin , blood dripping down like water drops, soft lips on faceless bodies, sun kissed skin becoming on with sandy beaches, bold moans in the backseat of her car, simple shaped necklaces siting between collar bones, blunts between glossy lips, tired hands editing for hours on hours, stamped passports, white toes in clear ocean waters.

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓽𝔂

to lurking eyes , the brunette tends to catch ditzy vibes and shallow tendencies . labels as such usually tend to hold some kind of truth, but when it comes to aletta? there’s more that meets the eye than assumptions from afar. her feet run on carelessness, blood intertwined with impulsiveness ; her wands wrap around your throat and for odd reason you cannot help but fall in love with the sensation. ebullient in human form , a crazed ocean that pulls you in. you want to lose yourself in her : her boisterous chatter in the sea of friends in an melody to your ears , and when the sun lowers and the bass of music dances in the air her giggles laced with vodka lingers. it’s said that the sound itself is intoxicating. like, for some reason, whether its her light in your lungs or her darkness around your throat, you cant let her go. she strives to be good, to be kind . but she is a child who was induced with happiness and then slowly picked at , lost innocence , witnessed monsters with human faces and so she comes to understand she will not always be good nor kind. she will be hard to read at times, hard to please. some nights, she may tell you about all the way she loves you and the next? she’ll turn away. and despite it all, she’ll still want you to be there for her in the morning. she needs meaningful bonds with others, needs to feel like if one day she disappeared people would miss her. wouldnt be able to live without her. she wants to feel important. she believes in loving yourself, being kind to yourself. and so, she tries not to drown for everyone. its a hard task though, considering she gets attached easily . she wants you , she needs you , and then she gets scared. she’s passionate, feels the world around her on a level that most do not understand. and it makes her scattered? she can ride the highs, but sometimes she has to ride the lows to. she is a lover, will give you her all. put in the time and the effort. it makes her affectionate ; affectionate touches are what she lives for. not just romantically, but platonically too. she likes to goof around, wants to fill everyone around her with light. wants to save everyone. is an hard worker, ambitious, likes having something she can put her energy into and conquer. sometimes her work ethic gets a little out of hand. but at the end of the day, she is her fathers daughter ; and it bleeds through. she an be stubborn, jealous . she can be hurtful, even selfish. but she is constantly trying to overcome it.

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼

she a few of her other siblings have took her mothers last name instead, making it easier for them to stand in the media without the prying. but regardless, she is a gwyar no matter if she changes her name or not.

she had been a daddy’s girl, from the moment she opened her eyes she was drawn to him. her mom would tease that she loved him more, and though that was never true her father was without an doubt her favorite parent.

when she parted ways, he decided that she no longer deserved the connection they once shared ; he cut her off. not financially, she was and still is gifted all of her luxuries. her part in the company still transferred into her account, she could still reach out to her mother for cash if needed. but the tenderness? the warmness? it disappeared. he refused to even look at her in her eyes.

she is highly protected , constantly has her siblings and what they call ‘bodyguards ‘checking in on her since she moved from their family house ; and even now you will see strange men whom seem like they were pulled out of the secret service drop in on her.

her eldest brother apollo, in more ways than one took on that father figure roll for aletta. being opposed to his fathers treatment, he stepped in. she has an appreciation for him that runs deep.

despite her being insanely close to apollo, aletta and her twin have a bond that no one can touch. with them, it has always been us against the world. she would die for any of her siblings, but for her twin? she’d kill for them without hesitation.

her want to live to the fullest point, has come from seeing the life being drained from others. she does not ever want to see herself in that position. so she promised herself she would never.. she’d live impulsively, foolishly, carelessly .. but regardless, she’ll live.

traveling is the one thing she knows will fill her heart, to see the world and capture all the things that it has to offer will not be an opportunity she misses. it’s why she found herself really enjoying the life of touring .

one important thing about her is that she craves meaningful bonds with others, she likes to feel like if one day she disappeared that people would miss her? would be lost without? she just wants to feel important.

she spent a lot of her summers in italy with her brother, which is why she is fond of the language.

aletta beauty is much so kylie cosmetics asdj how original ? i know.

i see her being kind of an ?? rihanna in the beauty industry and a david dobrik in the youtube ! sitting on the line of sis really did that with her beauty line and i love that bitch when it comes with being an influencer.

despite being the youngest , her father swore she was going to be the one to take over his business . his plan was to always allow the twins to take over . which is why it hit him so hard when she refused to.

𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

♡ wanted connections page !

and in case none of those catches your eyes, a list of generic plots !!!

♡ protective friendship, friends with benefits, close friends, old friends, distant friends, ex friends, ex friends with benefits, cousins, hardly related cousins, family friends, childhood friends, friendly competition, rivals, models who model for her line, artist she collabs with a lot, artist who have wrote a song for her, artist she has wrote for, frenemies, one night stands, summer flings, friends with lingering feelings, one sided friendships, one sided relationships, people who have used her, pr friendships, pr relationships.

#priceless.intro

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who-tf-stole-my-car-radio · 6 years

Text

Lovely part 2

Tyler x reader

A message from Tyler Joseph? Is this real life?? This can’t be real this has to be fake it can’t really be him. You sit up in your friends bed, she snores quietly as she sleeps. You turn your attention back to your phone , lowering the brightness on the screen. A message from @Tylerrjoseph.

Should you open it? Would it seem desperate to open it so quickly? You are desperate, it’s Tyler fucking Joseph. Hesitantly you open the message.

T: hi, we met tonight at my concert, we didn’t talk very long , not much was said but we definitely have a connection. Honestly I couldn’t get you out of my mind , I’m sure you’re asleep now , but I just had to message you.

Your heart rate quickened. How could this be happening??? How could Tyler be saying these things to you? It was unbelievable ..... how should you respond ? Should you wake your friend up? No it was 1 am and she would probably start screaming, you’ll tell her in the morning.

Ok keep it cool, don’t freak out. He’s just a regular guy a normal human like everyone else. A beautiful talented wonderful human.

Y: Hi Tyler .... I’m honestly surprised you messaged me, shocked really. I’m still awake , I have trouble with sleeping

You reluctantly hit the send. Oh god was that stupid? Was that a stupid response? Oh god it was , thoughts swirled in your racing mind. It really is Tyler , you knew that for sure , it was his official twitter account your brain just couldn’t process what was actually happening. Tyler , the man that changed your life with his words , his creativity, had started a conversation with you. He messaged you because he felt a connection with you! You couldn’t argue that, the two of you certainly had a moment at the concert, a moment you would remember for the rest of your life, but the greatest thing about it is that he felt what you felt, he’ll remember the moment too. Obviously he felt something if he went out of his way to try to find you on Twitter after simply making eye contact with you and holding your hand. He must be exhausted , he just played a two hour concert and expelled nothing but complete and total energy to thousands of people. Yet he still took the time out to talk to you.

You looked out the window a warm feeling in your chest, like small heated clouds floating carelessly in your ribs. You felt weightless , excited, and peaceful. Everything seemed to feel right. Your phone lit up again, you quickly pick it up.

T: I have a hard time sleeping too, you’re not alone there. So listen, In a week josh and I are taking a break from the tour for a month, to be home for the thanksgiving and Christmas, I was wondering if you’d like to meet up then and get to know each other better? I know this is forward but I can’t ignore what I felt at the concert

You read the message over and over and over. He wanted to hangout. He wanted to learn more about you , grow the connection between the two of you, maybe even spend the holidays together. Ok don’t get ahead of yourself (y/n) he just wants to hangout, probably for a few hours .

Y: of course I’d love to get to know you better Tyler! That would be so amazing I’m so glad you asked just let me know when and where

The message sends and rain starts to fall outside, sending a luscious earthy smell into the room. You closed your eyes you wanted to remember this night, every aspect of it, the way your phone lit the room up when Tyler messaged you, the sound of the rain kissing the window pane, the slow steady breaths from your sleeping friend and most importantly the absolute calm you felt, you’d never felt so sure of something so excited about something, this could be life changing . You’d thought about this moment for years , you’d written about it in fan fictions but you never thought it would really happen. You never thought Tyler Joseph would ever know who you are let alone want to get to know you better.

Your phone lights up

T: :) that’s great I’m so glad , if you tell me your address I’ll come pick you up , wherever you are , I’ll come get you and we can spend time together , real time, just you and I with no interruptions.

No interruptions sounds so nice. You could only imagine how magical it would be to spend actual alone time with Tyler. Seeing him with thousands of other people around practically made your heart stop but just you and him? You didn’t know what to expect.

Y: I live in Madison Wisconsin, my address is 1318 Woodrow way. You have no idea how happy you’re making me right now Tyler , this is truly a dream come true , I can’t wait to get to know you better. I can’t wait to get to know you as Tyler not just as the singer of Twenty One Pilots :)

T: 1318 Woodrow way! Great! Wisconsin isn’t far from Ohio at all so getting you won’t be any trouble , I’m excited to get to know you too (y/n) you seem really great already, and I hope you know I never do this, never have I ever seen a girl at a show and looked her up and messaged her , but I just couldn’t help it with you... you should get some sleep , ok? Sleep is important, I will talk to you tomorrow ok? I promise, sleep good , lovely, I’ll be thinking about you, goodnight :)

Y: thank you so much Tyler , you’re so sweet, it’ll be hard to sleep I’m so excited! I hope you sleep well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow handsome 💕

You send the message and sink down into your friends bed, her body heat spreads over you as you pull the comforter over your body . How were you going to tell her all of this? You smile as images of Tyler fill your head , and the sound of his voice “your lovely (y/n) “ fills your ears.

——————————————-

It’s still lightly raining , you’re walking home from your friends house . It’s still pretty early , the air was foggy and the sky a grayish purple color. You loved this weather it made you feel pure and at ease. Your house was just down the street from your friends , so it wasn’t a long walk. You decided against telling her about Tyler , you’ll tell her at some point just not quite yet. You wondered if you should message Tyler or let him message you first, every part of you wanted to message him but you didn’t know if you should or not . You reach your house and look up from your phone to see a pretty bouquet of white and pink roses sitting on your porch. You picked them up gently , the flower delivery person must have gotten the wrong address. You search the flowers for a card. There it is. You grab the slip of paper and read it.

“I hope these make you smile, lovely

-Tyler “ your heart jumped. These are from Tyler! Tyler sent you flowers!!! Holy shit holy shit holy shit !!!!! You grab your phone

Y: you sent me flowers? Thank you so much Tyler that’s so sweet! I love them they’re beautiful!

You open your door and quickly get a vase out, you clip the ends of the stems and gently set them in fresh water. Your phone vibrates in your pocket

T: oh good you got them, I’m glad you like them (y/n) they’re almost as pretty as you. I don’t want anyone else to swoop in and get your attention before I can come pick you up myself , two weeks is a long time and you’re a beautiful girl, I can’t be the only guy that wants to get to know you.

He was. He was absolutely the only guy.

Y: Tyler , you are such an amazing person, so thoughtful. No ones ever sent me flowers before! You made my day :) don’t worry your the only guy I want to get to know. I’ll wait for you forever. I’m so excited to see you again

You really could not wait till you could be with him again , to touch him and hear his voice. You couldn’t believe how quickly things were escalating between the two of you, he seemed so eager to be with you , you couldn’t believe it . You couldn’t help but think someone was going to go wrong something was going to mess this up or he was going to get to know you and end up not liking you. You felt strange, excited but unsure. In two weeks Tyler would be here and everything would work itself out ... and you couldn’t wait.

#twenty one pilots #twenty øne piløts #tyler joseph #josh dun #21 pilots #21 piløts #tøp #tyjo and jishwa #skeleton clique #twenty one pilots imagine

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mae-gi-writes · 6 years

Text

Wrong Number (Baekhyun x OC) Part 3

Synopsis: In which Hwang Jinae insistently leaves voice messages to her boyfriend every night since he’s gone to Veterinary College, only to discover that she has been confessing all her struggles and hardships to the wrong number. More specifically; to his roommate Byun Baekhyun.

Part: One / Two / Three

When Jinae finally sees Taehyung’s face the week after, she wishes she had checked his identity before actually opening the door. It’s almost a reflex for her to push it back in his face, but Taehyung is faster. He presses his palm against its wooden surface, his gaze pleading.

‘What are you doing here?’ her voice is cold, distant.

‘I can explain.’ he tells her as his chest heaves up and down, an indication that he has just run up the stairs to her flat. He shouldn’t be here, his campus is on the other side of town and from his dishevelled appearance and the bag slung carelessly over his shoulder, it can only mean that he has boarded the first train to her neighbourhood as soon as his conference was over. Jinae doesn’t know whether she should feel touched or irritated by his presence.

‘Explain what?’

‘Everything,’ he quickly brushes a hand through his brown locks, eyes glittering with a mixture of apprehension and nervousness of being misunderstood. There’s some sort of panic in there, as well as the feeling that if he manages to explain himself, if he can convince her that it hadn’t been out of mean will, then everything will be fine and they can go back to how they were before.

But that’s not how it works. Jinae’s been too hurt for too long and she isn’t sure how much more she can hold on.

But she nods and lets him in nevertheless, eyes still narrowed as she watches him take a seat on her couch as gingerly as he can, as though one silly mistake might get him thrown out again before he can utter any other apology. She asks him whether he’d like something to drink, but he quietly denies and waits until she settles on the other end of the couch before clearing his throat. He has her attention, for she is waiting for him to say something, anything that might dispel the awkward tension in the air. For once, Jinae is glad that all her housemates are away, for it would’ve been one heck of an awkward encounter for them to be bustling around casually when the atmosphere is clearly charged with electricity and open wounds.

‘So?’ she prompts when the silence drags on for what seems to be forever.

Taehyung clears his throat. Plays with his hair. He is nervous, she can tell by the clenched jaw, the tightness at the corner of his eyes.

It takes another long moment. Jinae counts up to ten in her head before he finally opens his mouth and says:

‘I’m sorry. I don’t have any other excuse. I realized it when Baekhyun told me, but you have to believe me. I didn’t mean to forget, I just had so many things going on at the same time--’ he breaks off for a minute, shaking his head at his own stupidity. Jinae’s cold gaze is enough to chill his blood from its warmth, ‘--Please Jinae. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.’

Her eyes linger on him for a moment. ‘I know.’

But she clamps her mouth shut into silence. It is deafening, it’s like they’ve been separated by moving tectonic plates with no means of closing this sudden distance. Jinae can feel the emotion clogging up the back of her throat, but she doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Forgiving Taehyung would mean to erase every little thing he’s done and bypass all the small mistakes, and Jinae isn’t sure whether she can be brave enough to jump into his arms so willfully when she is still reeling from the blood loss of so many open wounds.

‘Are you still mad at me?’ Taehyung asks, voice breaking at the last two words. It’s almost like he’s choking back a sob.

Jinae’s face doesn’t give anything away but her eyes are as cold and as hard as steel, ‘I can’t say I’m not.’ her voice can cut through skin, slicing the air with a sting, ‘But you need to talk to me. How am I supposed to know how you’re doing if you don’t tell me? How am I supposed to be there for you when I don’t even know what’s going on in your life?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he scrambles in his seat, moving closer towards her and grasping her hands into his. His eyes search her own, begging to be understood, to be forgiven for the mistakes that weren’t intentional. He can see the pain etched across her features. It feels like a slap in the face. His tone becomes more desperate, ‘I’m sorry, Jinae. I didn’t mean-- I didn’t want you to suffer so much.’

A crack appears in what seemed to have been her mask. A soft sobs echoes through the back of her throat, before she suddenly wells up with all the unshed tears that she’s been restraining inside her chest for as long as she can remember.

Jinae doesn’t really know what had been the final conclusion of that night, only that they made up and Taehyung had gone home with a soft smile and a promise that he’s going to change himself into a better man. She remembers feeling a slight anxious twist in her heartstrings when he’d uttered those words, unsure whether she can really trust him or not. But she’d decided on the latter before going to bed in the early hours of the morning, finally content that this whole issue has been resolved for now.

-------xx-------

Soon enough, Jinae’s fight with Taehyung is forgotten and pushed aside when he clearly demonstrates signs of commitment during the few weeks to come. He doesn’t hesitate to message her every morning with a small message telling her to have a good day, while he manages to take her calls every week whenever he has free time. On her side, Jinae tries to be more flexible in her expectations for she is aware of his busy schedule.

On the other hand, Jinae is happy to note that she has acquired herself a friend albeit the fact that he lives on the other side of town and is actually her boyfriend’s roommate. Baekhyun had sent a text asking about things between her and Taehyung, and when one text turned into two, it blossomed into a never ending stream of messages between both parties. Jinae is glad for Baekhyun’s constant friendship, especially in times when Taehyung cannot be around for her. He’s someone she can confide into, one of the very few people that she feels comfortable with without having to try too hard. Baekhyun listens to her and hears her voice for the words she speaks, not for the expectations he has of her nor of the fake label he has pinned onto her being the moment she’d walked through the classroom doors.

It’s not until the mid-semester break that Taehyung invites Jinae over to his campus. At first, she had been over the moon at such a proposition, only to realize that she’ll not only be seeing her boyfriend but also the young man who has turned out to be more than just a mere mutual acquaintance. She isn’t sure whether it’s because of Taehyung that she is excited, or because she is actually going to put a face to the name that has become like home to her.

Cold winter wind is expected on that day and Jinae makes sure to bundle up before heading out, hands clasped around her bag and slowly turning whiter by the second as she sits on the train, her beige coat wrapped around her in a soft cocoon of comfort. She looks out at the passing fields of plantations and wonders briefly what it is to lead such a simple life dictated only by the rising sun and the growth of crops. Sometimes, she wishes to be that kind of person, for they don’t seem to be having any superficial worries, living in the present without a single ounce of restraint on their identity.

‘Jinae!’ she hears Taehyung’s voice booming through the train station as soon as she steps onto the platform. Before she even has time to blink, she is suddenly enveloped in her boyfriend’s arms. She gets a whiff of his perfume, gets a sense of his warm structure folding around her in such a familiarity that it brings tears to her eyes.

‘How was the trip?’ Taehyung asks when he finally draws back to look at her face. She gazes at the shadow of stubble adorning his jaw, the dark blue rings under his eyes like half moons, and her heart clenches.

‘I’m fine,’ she draws on a smile and ruffles his hair in affection, ‘it wasn’t too long. How are you? You looked hella tired.’

‘I am,’ he grabs onto her hand, pulling her along with him towards the parking lot towards his shiny glittering mercedes. He had received the gift by his grandfather a few months earlier as a gift for his promoted scholarship and though Taehyung had been awestruck at such an expensive gift and had wanted to return it in favour of his grandfather’s domestic comfort, it hadn’t been arguable to refund it back to its initial owner.

Nevertheless, he’d been more than happy to oblige to the older man’s wishes.

She had told Baekhyun about her impromptu trip to their campus. To Baekhyun’s joy and excitement, he’d immediately asked her for the time and date, jumping up and down like a little kid when she mentioned that it would be sooner rather than later. There’s a nervous knot tightening in her stomach now that she thinks of meeting the man with no face but such an important, familiar name. It causes her to grow silent the more they approach Taehyung’s residence, which the latter is blatantly oblivious to and is instead chatting away like crazy about his hectic schedule.

‘Baekhyun’s asked me so much about you when I told him you were coming over.’ Taehyung says as he guides her up the staircase with her suitcase in tow. His smile is happy and contagious, so much so that there’s a slight pang of guilt in Jinae’s chest as she thinks of the unknown friendship that had blossomed between her and his roommate, one that she’d potentially made sure to conceal.

What Taehyung doesn’t know won’t hurt him, she decides. And plus, there is nothing to hide.

‘Baekhyun! I brought us a guest!’ Taehyung comes hollering through the doorway while Jinae bends over to slip off her shoes.

When she straightens up again, she is surprised to find an unfamiliar face looking back at her with a mixture of shock and bewilderment.

Baekhyun.

He is much more delicate than she had imagined, with soft almond-shaped eyes that make her think of a feline, a defined jawline that constructs his narrow face, and thin lips that suddenly curl up into a smile of greeting. He has light brown hair, probably from a dye, but while Jinae isn’t really fond of superficial colours, she thinks that this shade of maroon really compliments his facial structure.

‘H-Hi.’ she can’t help but stutter out her greeting, to which his smile grows even wider. He greets her back, ‘Hey.’

His voice is deeper than on the phone, deeper than she’d imagined it to be. For a minute, she can’t help but stare at him, wondering how this is the man that she’s been pouring her heart out to for the past few weeks. He seems familiar and yet like a total stranger at the same time, for she can finally put a face to his name, can finally conjure up a mental picture of what Baekhyun actually looks like.

‘Baekhyun, this is my girlfriend, Jinae.’ Taehyung flits about in barely restrained excitement and doesn’t even notice the awkward tension in the air. She almost jumps out of her skin when his hand comes to a rest at the small of her back, ‘Jinae, this is Baekhyun.’

‘Nice to meet you.’ she extends her hand out in greeting, which he takes after a slight hesitation. His smile catches her off guard. It’s pure and light and genuine. It makes his eyes crinkle up into crescents, ‘likewise.’

She can’t deny the sudden tightness in her chest when she retracts her hand, ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ she says lamely in an attempt of conversation, tongue practically drying out for she doesn’t know what to say.

‘So have I,’ and it’s the way he smiles that makes his face go all youthful and dazzling, just like that of a child’s.

Taehyung ushers her through the small apartment and brings her over to his room. Jinae tries to shove the image of Baekhyun out of her mind as she focuses on Taehyung’s constant stream of chatter, allowing his deep alto to soothe her nerves and responding with as much excitement as he is exhibiting at her presence. She should be happy to be here, and she is happy. It’s been ages since she’s seen Taehyung and the fact that he’s making so much effort for her brings a certain amount of warmth to blossom through her chest.

That’s right, she tells herself adamantly, she has practically the best boyfriend in the world, and there is no questioning that.

She doesn’t see Baekhyun for the rest of the day, mostly because Taehyung brings her out to visit his campus before stopping by one of the cute corner coffee shops to grab a quick lunch. They catch up with stories and tell each other of their experiences up until now, moving on to their high school friends and reminiscing in the memories that they each hold dear in their hearts. He brings her to the park next and they spend their afternoon walking through the grassy pathways, sharing scoops of ice cream by the boathouse while watching the sun set in the horizon.

He receives a phone call as they are climbing up the stairs to his flat, and from the frown that appears on his face, Jinae doubts that it is good news.

‘What is it?’ she asks tentatively when he cuts off the call with a darkened serious expression clouding over his features.

‘It’s just-- I think I’ll have to go to the lab,’ he looks guilty, but Jinae shakes her head before pushing him lightly towards the exit.

‘It’s your work, Taehyung,’ she says with understanding in her tone, ‘If you have to go, you have to go. I don’t mind.’

He gazes at her for a few beats of silence, ‘are you sure?’

She smiles, ‘I’ll be fine. I have Baekhyun to keep me company.’

‘Alright.’ he produces the apartment key and with a small kiss onto her temple, he’s off running into the night, leaving her sighing at his retreating presence. He’s always been this way, she thinks to herself as she walks up the remainder of the stairs and stops in front of his door. You should get used to this by now, Jinae, she pep talks inwardly, you should get used to his work being the number one priority in his life even when you’ve never been.

JInae is about to pull down the door handle when it suddenly swivels open to reveal a slightly dishevelled, messy-haired Baekhyun in sweatpants. He gapes at her for a moment before realisation dawns on his face, which is when he realizes that she’s alone.

‘Where’s Taehyung?’ he peers over her shoulder, only to catch sight of Jinae’s slightly distraught expression.

‘He had a lab emergency,’ she explains, not wanting to sound desperate or pitiful. In Baekhyun’s eyes, she has already reached a level that can only be attained by a fool of a girlfriend, and him seeing her in this state is enough to bring more shame to her. Impulsively, Jinae feels the back of her neck flush in embarassed heat.

‘So you’re free now?’

Her head jolts up, a frown decorating her face in curiosity, ‘Yeah.’

‘Alright then,’ before she knows what he is doing, he has grabbed onto her shoulder, swivelled her around and is propelling her down the stairs, his grip firm and warm, strong.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ there is clear panic in her tone, but she can feel the boy’s grin when he replies, ‘Making you not waste your time.’

The city is different at this time of night, the lights scattering across the perimeter and alighting the streets like a series of stars. The air is chilly and cuts across her skin, making her nose turn red and her hands to dry out from the cold. Baekhyun has let go of her shoulders and is now walking alongside her, a beanie flattening his bangs and his hands tucked deep inside the comfort of his pockets.

‘Where are we going?’ she can’t help but ask, to which he tells her to be patient before leading her through a series of small alleyways that don’t inspire any sense of comfort. She jokes that one would think Baekhyun is trying to murder her, to which he jokes that nobody will miss her anyway because it’s not like she has that many friends in the first place.

‘A karaoke bar?’ Jinae can’t hide her shock as she gazes at the multi-coloured light beams striking the dance floor and the barman that’s busy concocting a series of drinks for a few waiting guests. Baekhyun sends her a look as if to ask her whether she’s kidding, and when her face stays just as serious, his jaw drops in surprise.

‘You’ve never went to karaoke before?’ there is definite horror in his voice, causing Jinae to shrink slightly on herself while cursing inwardly at her lack of experience. Baekhyun probably thinks of her as a total geek and that’s not really helping her in this situation.

But to her surprise, the young man bursts out laughing before grabbing onto her forearm and dragging her over to the counter. ‘You will thank me for this later,’ he says while reserving a booth for two people.

Since there are only two of them, it takes little time to clear out a space and find a suitable both. So they cut the huge line of waiting groups and Jinae can’t help but notice how many people greet the said young man on the way. She loses count of the times he’s stopped and interrupted with small talk, smiling when he introduces her and avoiding their gazes that seem to drag over her like rakes attempting to push and pull at every layer of her skin.

‘You weren’t joking when you said you knew a lot of people,’ Jinae comments when they finally reach their desired booth and Baekhyun closes the door with a sigh of relief, ‘You’re practically like the mayor of town.’

Baekhyun’s eyebrow shoots up in amusement, ‘was it impressive?’

‘Kind of.’ she shrugs, ‘coming from someone who barely has any friends, it makes me wonder how much energy you have to deal with so many people.’

‘I love people,’ he flashes her a smile, one that is contagious and makes her want to smile back, ‘Unfortunately, they don’t seem to like me back as much.’

‘Nonsense,’ Jinae interjects, ‘Did you see how many people greeted you out there? How many people actually talk to you?’

‘They might talk to me,’ he looks away then while his jaw clenches, ‘but like I told you, they barely know me.’

They’ve talked about this before. She’s heard of the rawness of this tone, the hurt and pain that lies beneath his words. It’s something entirely different to actually see his expression; the bunched up frown of his eyebrows and the tightness of his mouth. The way his eyes darken like he’s seeing something that is making his blood boil, as if it’s something that hurts him and renders him helpless at the same time.

Jinae’s hand aches. She wants to reach out and touch his shoulder, tell him that it’s not the case where she is concerned, but then she remembers that it’s best to let this moment pass. Baekhyun’s expression is one that suggests that he doesn’t like any kind of sympathy and that her actions will just add more salt to the already open wound.

So she makes a grab for the microphone instead before pressing it into his hand. When he looks up in surprise, she sends him a soft smile, ‘come on.’ she says and pulls him to stand beside her, ‘Show me how to karaoke.’

-------xx-------

The hours slip by into a natural kind of oblivion. Jinae barely checks her phone and loses track of the time as Baekhyun torments her till she sings her heart out. The initial dismay at Taehyung’s disappearance is replaced by the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She jumps up and down, climbs onto the table and sings like she’s never sung before, until her lungs ache for breath and her throat is croaky. Baekhyun does just the same, acting like her number one fan and jumping around to the beat of the songs as he hollers a series of cheers even when she ultimately fails at the high notes.

Jinae learns that Baekhyun can sing. That he can actually sing as though he’s been professionally trained to do so. They end the night with a soft ballad, his soft yet masculine vocals filling her ears as she drowsily basks in the feeling of his voice wrapping her into a soft cocoon of warmth. There’s a richness to his baritone, a soulful melody that seems to ignite every bone inside her body with emotion. She can’t help asking why he hasn’t auditioned for a singing agency yet, to which he replies that he has bigger dreams than standing on stage.

It’s shy past three in the morning when they finally stumble into the flat. To Jinae’s dismay, Taehyung is still not back from his laboratory yet and when she checks her phone in hopes that he’s left any sign of life, there is nothing that comes up on her blank screen and she forces herself not to throw her phone against the wall.

‘You alright?’ comes Baekhyun’s question. She swivels around to see her friend with a concerned furrow of his eyebrows.

‘Yeah, just tired.’ she makes up a lie as smoothly as she possibly can, making sure that he doesn’t catch sight of the tears at the corner of her eyes, threatening to cascade down her cheeks. It’s not even a big deal that Taehyung isn’t here, for his work is definitely something important to deal with, one that he cannot just throw away because it’s what will guarantee his graduation and success. And yet, her stomach still drops at the thought of him ditching her for that stupid project. Most of all, she feels sorry for herself. She would’ve never guessed to be that pitiful. Baekhyun must take her for such a fool. She must look pathetic in his eyes.

‘Jinae,’ Baekhyun’s call halts her steps. His voice rings through her like an echo of her own reality, ‘I’m sorry.’

What for? She wants to ask, though it’s clear that he is the one apologizing for Taehyung’s ignorant nature. But she doesn’t need his pity, at least not right now.

Taking a deep, staggering breath, she exhales shakily through her nose before saying a soft, ‘it’s not your fault.’ before closing Taehyung’s bedroom door in his face and shutting off any attempt at contact.

Her heart hurts and her head is pounding from the after effects of alcohol. She can’t help but curse softly as her brain tries to recollect the few memories that she can actually remember, horrified that she has actually spent more time with someone other than her boyfriend. She doesn’t know whether she is to blame or whether to be angry at Taehyung for his absence, for as frustrated as she is about her boyfriend’s neglect towards their relationship, there is a guilt swimming inside her heart because she has actually enjoyed that evening spent with Baekhyun.

What am I doing? She thinks, raking her fingers through her hair and tightening her hands into fists, clamping down onto her dark brown locks. This isn’t right. It hasn’t been for a long time.

Jinae reaches for her bag on Taehyung’s study table, before her hands suddenly knock over a few documents on the hardwood floor. With a groan, she crouches down to pick them up, only to frown when her eyes flutter drowsily across the letters imprinted on the white page.

Her blood goes cold.

Her heart practically screeches to a halt.

No, is what pops into her head, repeating like an echo, no no no.

In her hand, written in a professional black font, is a word that makes her heart drop down to her stomach.

It reads: Kidney transplant patient: Kim Taehyung.

-------xx-------

A/N: DUN DUN DUNNNNNN!~ This just turned dark and I can't wait to see what the next chapter will bring ;) hehehe. what do you guys think of this chapter?! Thoughts? Hate it? Comment down below :) Thank you to all those who are taking their time to read and comment their thoughts on the story, it really gives me confidence to continue to write. It makes me glad to share this with you, and it makes me even happier to know that some are enjoying the story that I enjoy writing. Thank you all, I love you <3

see you soon!

- nutmeggu

#exo #exo scenarios #exo imagines #fanfiction #baekhyun #roommate au #fluff #romance #drama #angst #romcom #taehyung #bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #bangtan scenarios #bangtan imagines #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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septembersung · 5 years

Text

It appears that tumblr mysteriously deleted Generations chapter 2, as far as I can tell, so here it is, freshly posted.

Chapter Two

Beyond the swings, the big garden, the outbuildings, and the pond, the land fell sharply away to a creek bed. It was low in this high, dry summer, and nearly still. The banks, crumbled where the grass gave way to clay, ran with little wavering along the crease where hill met plain, until they met the little woods to the east. Cropland stretched out beyond the creek to the north. Near the trees, but not enough to be shaded by them except in earliest morning, just on the north side of the river, lay the old family burial ground.

Anna-Lucia knelt at her mother's headstone. Martha Addison, beloved wife, mother, sister. May 8 2005 - August 15, 2070. RIP Et Lux perpetua luceat eia.

"Here you are!"

Anna-Lucia started badly as a sun-blind silhouette loomed over and dropped down suddenly, throwing two strong arms around her shoulders.

"Liza!" she gasped out at last, returning the hug.

In the sixteen months since she had seen her sister, Liza's choppy curls had grown irregularly long. Her wiry arms were sun browned and stronger than ever.

Trying to shake off the sun-daze and afternoon grogginess, Anna-Lucia found she had no words - just a huge, cheek-splitting grin, and a few irrepressible tears in the corner of her eyes. She gripped Liza's shoulder and squeezed. Liza smiled back, but her eyes were tired and new care lines were etched there.

"You didn't tell me you were coming," Anna-Lucia said at last, when the silence had stretched so long it began almost to feel like another dream.

"No one knew. Not even me, until forty-eight hours ago. I fully expected to miss this year's reunion and be stuck on the beat 'til Christmas."

"Lots to report in Rome?"

"I still can't believe they get away with that name."

Liza grinned wickedly. "Oh it's caused a few misunderstandings, but the reporter credentials, and the kinds of bylines I'm racking up, set them straight pretty fast."

"I hardly know anything about your job - you've sent three letters, Liza. Three, in a year and a half."

"Sixteen months, thank you very much." Liza hesitated. "It's - changing, over there. Letters aren't as... in vogue as they used to be."

Her heart leapt. "You saw him!"

Liza shook her head, and she was pale under her tan. "These came through the postal service."

Not, Anna-Lucia registered distantly, the post office.

Anna-Lucia stared at her. "Just to Dad? Not even one for me? Or you?"

"A year ago? The most recent one is twelve months old?"

"One's only seven."

"You've read them?"

Liza frowned at her. "I take my job seriously, Anna-Lucia."

"I'm sorry. Stupid question." Mechanically, Anna-Lucia gathered the letters back up and rebound them. "So you've had no news."

Liza just looked at her.

Understanding began to dawn, and Anna-Lucia did not like it. "That's why you came home."

"We need Uncle Kevin's address book."

"No news at all? Seven months and nothing? Not a single person knows where he is or what happened to him?"

"Will you help me find Dad?" Liza pleaded, glancing down at her watch, a slim, chic, old fashioned ladies' analog. "He needed these... yesterday."

Anna-Lucia felt as unmovable as the headstones beside her.

"Please, Anna-Lucia. I don't... I can't tell him alone."

"Dad's in the new shed."

#the next great american space novel #my writing life

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