#side note why are there so many diners in this city | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

on-the-clear-blue · 1 month

Text

Original idea coming from @the-witchhunter and then added on to by many others.

Dead Man's Diner

---

Danny was tired okay? It may very well be his own damn fault but he can't keep waking up during daylight hours, while yes, he can fully be up and sitting at a desk, the likelihood of him waking up getting shouted at by his boss for sleeping on the job was astounding.

So at 19 years old, freshly jobless, Danny said Fuck it and moved away from Amity Park, Valarie was more than willing to handle the few ghosts that still came through the portal since he became the King.

You might be wondering, why isn't Danny filthy rich and rolling in it as the ghost king? Two words, the Observants.

Those flouting eye bastards had moved in and said that unless he was the king full time, he was unable to access the vaults of the Infinite Realms.

So once again, 19, freshly jobless and wanting to get out of Gotham? Danny was very lucky to have friends that love him far to much, Sam and Tucker both pitched in to move him out to where they had chosen to do collage.

*Gotham* oh Sam was in love with the place, the architecture, the people, (and maybe a certain green supervillian that was determined to make the city better) and Tucker was obsessing over being in the same city as Wayne Enterprises, trying his best to get into their internship program by his own merit rather than just hacking himself into it.

And Danny? He was loving it for a slightly different reason.

While the death rate was unfortunately high in Gotham, that also meant that the amount of passive ectoplasim generated by the deaths was massive, it was almost as rich as back in Amity Park with the portal into the ghost zone!

(Oh and the many job opportunities but Danny was a little less worried about that.)

---

Letting out a sigh, Danny scrubbed at his eyes as he leaned back into his chair, another job he had to turn down due to it being shady as all get out.

4 hours and he was getting payed 200 bucks? Major criminal vibes from that...

Taking a moment to get himself balanced, Danny leaned back and looked to the clunky laptop that Tucker had given him, it was modified to hell and back, so it still ran quickly, but it sure as he'll wasn't pretty.

Clicking on yet another job listing, Danny paused as he felt a shiver run down his spine, and a blue mist pass through his lips, blinking, he twisted around to look at the spare room of Sam's apartment, Ghosts tend not to get close enough to him to trigger the ghost sense in Gotham...

Seeing nothing, Danny turned back to his laptop only to find a piece of paper stuck to the screen with tape, freezing at first, the dark haired man sighed deeply, peeling it off he held it close as he read it.

[Help wanted at Big C's Dinner! Looking for a night cook that knows their way around a kitchen!]

There was a few more lines that Danny's eyes skimmed over, picking up the location that it was at, it even had a decent pay, but he paid more attention to the scribbled on note at the bottom of it.

[Daniel, head to this place at 12 am tonight. While the Observants said that you may not touch a single coin in your vaults, they side nothing of your properties.]

---

So Danny knows how to handle himself, he has fought many, many people and still came out half alive, but even he felt a little on edge coming down to the railroad tracts in Gotham, because apparently that was were Big C's dinner was at...which he apparently owned? Clockwork works in mysterious ways that Danny was so done trying to figure out.

Stepping up to a bit of abandoned tract, he blinked a few times at the site of Big C's.

It was a decent sized Dinning Car, with a ramp that attached itself to a proper street, it had peeling green paint and dirty white accents with charming rusted steel connecting it to the tracts, the only thing new looking on it was a bit banner stretched across it, stating the name "BIG C'S ALL DAY EVERY DAY BREAKFAST CART! OPEN 24/7!"

The windows were close off by tinted yellow blinds, but he could still see light coming through them. Stepping up the ramp Danny felt the cart under him shudder and something inside of him fluttered, and by the time he was opening the door he could feel the reason why.

The very cart was *alive*, taking a quick breath, Danny could practically taste the energy from it, there was a buzzing undercurrent of excitement that rung through the whole cart.

A little unprepared for his, Danny just smiled warily, "Uhh, hey there? Anyone around?" In response to his words the cart shuddered, the blinds dancing up and down and he could hear the squeel of the wheels.

"O-okay then, um my name is Danny Fenton...Clockwork sent me?" There was another flapingnof the blinds, and the small wooden flap that let people into the back lifted up suddenly before clacking down loudly.

Taking a steadying breath, Danny slipped through the bar and into the back.

It was surprisingly clean and orderly, the stove and fryer looked over than his parents but well maintained, the flat top was perfectly scrubbed and was already heating up.

As Danny looked around, he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine, looking around once more, Danny fell into a fighting position as he spotted the figure of a familiar foe

"Lunch Lady? Aren't you a little far from home? What did your order of fist not come in?" The bright rings of light around Danny's waist swirled into life as he went into his ghost form.

He got a thrilling grin from the older apparition, but she only crossed her arms, "While we can tumble later little King, Lord Clockwork sent me personally, said you need a bit of help learning how to cook? And ain't nobody better slinging food than me, dead or alive!"

---

Down in the dripping depths of the cave system deep under Gotham, one Bruce Wayne, still in his Batsuit sat in front of the Bat Computer, eyes glaring at a map of Gotham.

He had been tracking a strange energy pattern that made its way through Gotham, he had first thought it was some sort of layline, but the more that he tracked it the more he realized it was closer to watching a person's walking patterns, sometimes following roads, and sometimes crisscrossing through streets and alleyways.

But tonight that power signal tripled in size, off-putting energy that Bruce hadn't seen it done before, tapping the com on his ear, he spoke clearly "Nightwing, take Red Robin and investigate the coordinates I am sending the both of you, observe it, I just got a massive spike in an energy at that location."

There was silence for a moment before the com crackled and his sons responded "Got it B! Me and RR needed a little time together huh Babybird?"

There was a quiet hum from Tim, before the teen spoke "On route Batman, after this I am heading in, we have a meeting with a suspect in the morning B, Vlad Masters has been poking around Gotham."

#dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #batfam #ghost king danny #danny is a little shit #does this count as a coffeeshop au?#i think it should #bruce wayne #lunch lady #part 1 #Dead Man's Diner

1K notes · View notes

dilfartist · 1 year

Text

Selfish

Pairing; Yandere Leon Kennedy x reader

Synopsis; You escape your captor during one of his many missions. You stop by a diner searching for help. What will happen next? Find out by reading

Word count; 3.8K

TW; Kidnapping, non-con touching, Stockholm syndrome, maybe just a tad bit ooc, Yandere (obviously), obsessive behavior, cussing.

Notes; hopefully you enjoy reading. It’s not the best since I’m still maturing as a writer and because of my hiatus; but I hope you enjoy.

!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!

Sapphire-embellished twilight transitions into dawn’s light blue hue bringing alongside the sun. Birds sang good morning to one another, on their side of the forest. You ambled down the road that ceased the strong odored forest from connecting.

You stared at the endless road up ahead. Night to morning, ahead of you was forest and road. Perhaps this reason is why your captor moved into the isolated forest since raccoon city incident.

Or maybe he wanted to live a life of normalcy given the opportunity; the monsters he claimed he fought, seemingly every month, stressed him greatly and you noticed. Plus, he mentioned he needed a vacation frequently.

You pause, double-checking onward on the ostensibly never-ending road. Was your hard work a waste of time?

Looking back on the way he treated you, you pondered if it would have been smarter to stay home. Most days he wasn't overbearing. Once in a while, he’d annoy you, other than that he was tolerable. Besides being unable to leave the house unattended and having no say in choices at times, he gave you more freedom than most.

But then you remember the day before. At the crack of dawn, he’d left for a mission: bidding you goodbye with a note and breakfast at your night table side. You were left all alone, so naturally you sought a form of entertainment.

The television; Which was your only option.

You were clicking through the television channels when you came across a crime documentary. The story was similar to your personal life so you continued to watch the channel.

The story was about a woman, age twenty-three, who was kidnapped for around four years. During her kidnapping, she fell deeply in love with her kidnapper to the point they had to detach her from the cop car when they arrested him.

In your situation, you’ve been abducted for at least eight months. Her situation only took a year till she developed Stockholm syndrome.

Clarified by the show as the psychological condition of a victim who identifies with and empathizes with their captor or abuser and their goals.

Learning this information a thought came to mind.

Would you become like her once it hits New Year's? Loyal to a man that took you away from society. No. You refused to allow the same situation to happen to you.

You’d never allow it to happen.

When it came to the relationship your captor so desperately longed for with you, you caused many difficulties to prevent any form of romance.

Any attempt at affection had him pushed away or smacked. Discussion about the past before your absconding was simply ignored. And in general, you kept your distance from him. Well, at least you tried to. He stays at your hip like a lost puppy majority of the time he has off work, talking your ear off. There was no way in hell you’d fall for him. Not after the months you spent in that isolated house.

Regardless of how certain you were, you mulled over it some more. You finally concluded running. So far, you felt regret and relief.

Out of nowhere, a loud reverberating sound of a car grew closer, arising behind you. You quickly spun around to see what the sound originated from.

The engine growled, sending a ping of fright to your heart. You spent no time thinking about Leon’s reaction to your escape. However, now your mind consumes thoughts of his response.

Could your captor's fury be so robust that the car in the distance embodied his rage? Knowing him since your best friend introduced you to the man becoming a rookie cop in raccoon city; you’ve never seen him enrage.

From time to time his witty replies and mean scowl would showcase his anger. Of course, that didn't mean his rage wasn't feasible. But never had you ever witnessed a stronger emotion from him.

Inching closer, you were able to discern the details of the car. It was a massive black car, with tinted windows. A car your captor might arrive home with after a mission. It announced its presence with its vociferous roaring.

You observe with dread blooming in the pit of your stomach, every other part of your body tingled.

Although the person driving the car was yet to be revealed, you were petrified, stuck in place like you had been glued onto the concrete below you.

It must be him.

Why else would they be heading so fast toward you?

Already, you’re willing to surrender. Your captor is a forgiving person when it comes to you, so there’s a likelihood he’ll forgive you if you cooperate.

Standing on the side of the road, you acquiescently wait for the car to stop. Waiting for him to take you back to your prison.

The car slows but even then it's at a fast pace. The car passes you momentarily. Slightly it reverses until the passenger window is in front of you. Unhurriedly, the shadowy window rolls down. In the driver's seat, instead of who you believed it to be, it was a woman.

She looked to be in her middle thirties. She wore black sunglasses in her strawberry-blonde hair, a red blouse with denim jeans. Her makeup reminded you of Jennifer Tilly in Bride of Chucky, but she wore a sweet smile.

“Oh my lord, are you alright darling?” The woman asked like you were a child outside without a jacket in the freezing winter.

You continued to stare at her. You wanted to say something, but your throat felt drier than sandpaper. You opened your mouth, wheezing a bit as you sipped the fresh air. “I don't know,” you responded as loud as you possibly could. So barely above a whisper.

“Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“Are you safe?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

The woman shook her head disapprovingly, then she began to throw whatever laid in the passenger seat into the backseats. “Come on sugar, get inside. I’ll give you a ride.”

“Okay, thank you.”

She reached over and pushed the passenger door open. You entered the vehicle, settled in, and got comfy. You buckled in making sure you heard the reassuring click.

“There you go,” she commented with a smile. “Now, we're going to make a stop by a gas station, then we’ll find out what we can do with you. Is that alright?

You smiled back, “Yeah, I don't mind.”

The car began to ride forward and the air conditioning blew on your overheated body. You relished the cold air. You hadn't realized how hot it had been outside, even in the early morning. Where were you?

You put that thought aside. Now you needed to worry about something to drink and eat.

“Do you…have anything to drink or eat?” you glanced at the woman.

She nodded. “Of course sweety! Why didn't I offer before?” she looked away from the street to grab a half-empty bottle of water from the side of the driver's door. “Sorry, that's the only drink I have at the moment.” she apologizes.

Without a second thought, you unscrewed the cap off the water and chugged the water. Water had never tasted so refreshing before. It was like you’d been roaming in the desert for hours on end and finally found a source of water.

The woman glances at you. You must have looked crazy. “How long have you been out there?”

“Since eight last night.” You sounded better. No more raspy voice that hurts you to speak. “I should have packed a bag but something came up.”

Before you left the house last night, you weren't in your right mind. Your captor never gave you an exact time he’d be home. His return ranged between the eight at night, the dead of night, the crack of dawn, or the morning. Recently, he’d been arriving home at eight. Which is the reason you left with nothing. Looking back, you had no confidence in yourself at getting away. You believed you were going to be caught in a matter of ten minutes. Now look at you.

You turned to the woman, “Thanks…” She finishes the sentence with her name. “Amanda.” You nod rephrasing your sentence, “Thanks Amanda for picking me up.”

Amanda smiles again, this time wider showing off her pearly white teeth. “I couldn't just leave you out there. Now, what’s your name?”

You tell her your name and hope she somehow knows it. Maybe the news reported you missing when you weren’t watching. You hoped so.

Rather than freaking out, realizing she had found a missing person, she simply responded with a “nice to meet you.” You died a little at the rejoinder.

Did no one care enough to report your absence? Not your family or close friends, no one attempted to reach out to the police?

No. You’re just overthinking. Not everyone watches the news or actively looks for missing people. You just had to be around more people. Someone was bound to know your identity.

Still, you can’t ignore the way your hands shake at the thought of being forgotten.

“So what were you out there for? If you don’t mind sharing that is.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. What were you to say? Tell her the truth and find out she was with your captor the whole time or keep your mouth shut and have no help in case he does find you.

A white lie would help.

“Escaping my abusive boyfriend.”

A frown pulled at the woman’s plump lips, her eyebrows scrunching together at your answer. “Do I need to the cops, family members?”

“No,” you responded quickly and harshly. The car fell silent. You took a small breather before speaking. “No, thank you.”

“Please, tell me, is there anything else I can do to help you any further?”

You needed cash, shelter, and a job. There was only one thing you were sure she could help you with. “ I need money and a hotel.”

“Don't worry, I got you covered,” she said softly.

The car began to slow when she placed her foot on the break. She turned the car and moved into a spot that contained a combination of a gas station and an old fashion diner. She parked the car next to a gas pump, then powered it off.

She dug into the middle counsel, pushing around pens and important items, and pulled out a pink wallet. She unzipped the front zipper and pulled out some money.

Amanda held the cash out to you, “Here’s 100 dollars. There's enough for lasting food, a hotel to stay, and a bus.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt just to hug her tightly. “Thank you!” you repeat over and over, like an unanswered prayer. She returned the hug, telling you she didn't mind lending you some service. The hug ended and you needed to plan your next move. What would you spend your money on first?

Well, all you knew was what you’d spend what was given to you on something important.

You looked out the window. Your eyes shift toward the diner. Mo’s dinner was on the sign, “been here since the ’50s.” which was written below.

Right. Food. You haven't eaten since yesterday. Walking as long as you did, you tried to forget your hunger and focus on the main goal of finding shelter or at least some safety.

“I think I’ll have myself a hot breakfast!” you announced. Amanda unlocked the passenger door, “go right ahead. Enjoy your freedom.” You nod, fleeing the car akin to a little kid whose mother gave them money for an ice cream from the ice cream truck.

The entrance bell chimes when you open the door to the cream-colored establishment. Once inside, you settled yourself in a booth in the far back. An old jukebox plays aged music ranging from the 70s to the ’50. Besides you, there was a single person in the restaurant. A man at the bar sipping his morning coffee whilst reading the newspaper.

You extend your arm over to the menu across the table. The menu displays numerous appetizing dishes, varying from breakfast to a juicy steak dinner.

Flipping the page your eyes landed on a mouthwatering breakfast sandwich, including bacon, egg, and cheese.

“Hello ma’am, I’m Stephanie, I’ll be serving you this morning. What would you like?”

You placed the menu aside to give the waitress your whole attention. The woman was of average height, wearing a pink uniform that reminded you of the 50s. She wore a smile that did not reach her black doe eyes. “Did you hear any of that?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, feeling anxious about possibly pissing her off. “Could I have a number six and a sweet tea?”

“Of course, is that it?”

“Umm…yeah, that’s it.”

“Alright then,” she replied disinterestedly. She left quickly, retreating to the kitchen.

You continue gazing at the closed door to the kitchen. What else could you do? You should have brought along something to entertain you, then again there wasn't much back at the house you called a jail cell. For the remainder of the waiting duration, you’d have your thoughts to amuse your lethargy.

Ding Ding

Instinctively, your head turned. 50s music began to fade, superseded by the loud thumping of your heart. Your breathing became shaky, parallel to your hands. Dirty blonde hair is what you see first. It’s him! You repeat in your head, like a religious prayer.

“Jessica, hey!” you heard a joyous exclamation. You watch as the man from the bar rushes over to the person entering the restaurant. Your anxiety left as quickly as it came. A hand places itself onto your cheat, and on the spot your heart thumped rapidly. You had to calm down. You took deep breaths, and your heart slowed with each sip of air. You rest your head on the table.

After taking the time to calm yourself, you analyzed the restaurant furthermore. Now, the place was vacant, since the man had left. Fifteen minutes passed and you found a newspaper from the newspaper rack adjacent to the front entrance.

Nothing in the article was new to you. At your captor’s home, you watched the news almost once a week to see if anyone had reported your disappearance. Nothing ever came up though. At least you were up to date with everything going on.

Your waitress finally returned, carrying your meal on a maroon-colored tray in her left hand. “Sorry for the wait, ma’am. Kitchen malfunction.” she apologized, giving you a guileless smile. This would be the only expression besides tedium that you’d receive from her.

“It's alright,” you said, watching as she placed the food on the table for you to dig into. She left carrying the tray back to the kitchen she emerged from.

You took a bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly to savor the flavor. Juicy and delicious are solely vivid words to illustrate the taste. The egg had a spongy texture that combines well with melted cheese. And the hickory bacon wasn’t too crispy or chewy, it was simply perfect.

Back at the prison, your captor wasn't the best cook. But he tried to be for you. Still, you preferred takeout. Chinese, Italian, and burgers began to become a boring taste on your taste buds. Having a breakfast sandwich was refreshing, to say the least.

“Enjoying your meal, huh?” rough voice inquiries. The question was said cockily but their wrath was audible in the way the last word was spoken.

You stop mid-chew, the overwhelming flavor vanishing from your mind. It now tasted bland. You kept your eyes shut. Were you afraid? No. Afraid couldn't explain the ineffable amount of dread you felt at the moment. Ruffling could be heard on the opposite side of the table; He was sitting down. Your eyes open involuntarily like your body already knew what he wanted it to do.

Across the table, seating snugly is your captor; Leon Kennedy. He looks rougher than the last time you’ve spoken. The dark circle underneath his eye has grown darker. His brunette roots have begun peaking out ruining his natural blonde facade. And he looked exhausted. Must have stayed up all night looking for you.

He looked more than pissed. He appeared disgruntled. Compared to Leon, you were small. But now, Leon was like a giant towering over you. Despite never abusing you in any shape or form, your body shakes like a leaf in the wind. The way he glares down at you drives you to shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“Do you know how long I've been up for, y/n?” he asks whilst pulling out a flask from his jacket pocket.

Regardless of how parched you are, you force yourself to converse with him. “No,” you're voice is brisk and faint.

“Two days. For two days I’ve been on my feet.” He takes a swig of the flask and then continues to rant. “I could have joined you in bed and fallen asleep, but there was a problem. You weren't anywhere.”

He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What the hell is the matter with you? You could have gotten hurt. You probably are.”

Leon is getting angrier, you can tell by the way the furrowed eyebrows deepen and his frown morphs into a glower, as he utters each sentence.

“I’m sorry.” That's all you can say. It's all that comes to mind.

“Sorry won’t make up for the scars you've gotten.” he retorts angrily.

Now you're mirroring his expression. You’re angry and tired as well. Definitely not as tired as him but still tired. “You’re acting as if I didn't have a good reason to run.” you petulantly cross your arms, akin to a child not getting a toy from the store.

Leon wasn’t delusional. Back in the day, when he was a rookie cop, in some aspects he was delusional. However, as the years continue to pass so does his past self. Leon understands what he has done to you is inhumane, but he can’t help it. He kept you locked away for a reason. You won’t get hurt with him by your side.

Leon sighs, closing his eyes and leaning closer with his forearms on the table. “I know, I know.”

You tilt your head, “really? So, why are you mad at me?”

His eyes open, displaying icy-blue orbs. They hold Empathy in them. Empathy Leon has a difficult time communicating to you.

“I keep you in the house for your safety.” He began, taking your hands into his own. “To keep our relationship safe.”

“But I don’t want a relationship with you.”

“I know.”

“So why are you forcing me to stay with you?!”

Leon’s hands squeezed yours, provoking a cry out of you. “All my life I’ve been a generous man. I saved many and gave up my life for others. I’m always providing for someone else and rarely caring for myself. And the one thing I yearn for to the point I was convinced I deserved it. It was you.”

For a beat, he ceases his gabbing. Leon stares down at your connected hands, his thumb starts rubbing against the back of your hand. It’s a domestic act that earns your displeasure.

“For once, allow me to be selfish,” he mumbles, eyes slowly trailing up to meet yours. His lips press your hand, giving it a chaste kiss. “You’re the only thing I’ll fight to keep for myself.”

Part of you wishes the relationship was normal. Leon truly did care for you, and you still cared for him, But he did something unforgiving. He took away your free will.

“...you can’t just steal a person, Leon. You can’t expect me to love you.”

“I don’t.”

“So why won’t you let me go? You still have Ada, don’t you? You were more into her than me. Why isn’t she in my position?”

“Because I love you, not her. You haven't betrayed me. Well, not until now.” he jokes, letting out a faint chuckle.

Leon pulls out his wallet, his fingers sliding through the pockets to find his card. “Wrap your food up. We’re leaving.” he puts his wallet back in his back pocket, “Be right back. Stay here.” he commanded sternly.

The waitress is at the bar, cleaning the counter with a blue rag. Leon approaches her with an “Excuse me.”

Leon put too much faith in you because you were on your feet immediately when his back was turned. You quietly inched towards the door and ever so slowly dragged the door inwards. Leon was distracted, the waitress deciding she’d flirt with him despite seeing you and him together. You manage to slip through the door before Leon notices your second escape attempt.

You bolt out the door when you hear the enraged roar of your name from behind. You grip the railing to the stairs, running down them, tripping a couple of times. You don’t look but you know Leon’s on your tail. The door slams against the wall, the bell ringing loudly.

“Y/n, get back here!”

Amanda’s car was still parked by the gas pump. You sprint towards it, slipping through the tight space of the car and the gas pump. Luckily for you, Amanda was in the car, applying her strawberry-pink lipstick.

“Amanda!” you shout, startling her enough that she drags the lipstick across her cheek. She shouts, frightened by your sudden appearance. She looks at you, like you're crazy. She says your name to clarify the person at her window, “What are you doing.”

You shake your head, “yo-you gotta help me, he-” you say breathlessly.

“Hey, Amanda.” you hear Leon’s voice call out. Unlike you, he isn’t out of breath. Thanks to his military training. Amanda peeks her head out the window, she smiles waving at Leon. “Hey, Lee!”

Your eyes widen till it’s physically impossible to widen anymore. She knows Leon. Your body feels numb as you watch them interact like old friends. You feel like you aren’t real at the moment. Like you're watching the scene unfold outside your body.

“Sorry, she just came back from the hospital. She isn’t in her right mind right now.” Leon excuses, leading you to his car like a shepherd's dog guiding the sheep to its pen.

Amanda nods as she understands completely. “No worries, I’m just glad I found her before she hurt herself.”

Leon puts you in the passenger seat and closes the vehicle door. The keys lock the door from the inside, so you are left choiceless.

Leon joins you in the driver’s seat, definitely too angered to chide you. He seethed quietly, powering on the engine with the quick twist of the car keys.

Wordlessly, you buckle up. You wouldn’t make an endeavor to anger Leon any further.

You’d allow him to be selfish. Allow him to have you.

What other option did you have now?

#Leon Kennedy #Leon Kennedy x reader #yandere resident evil #resident evil #resident evil 4 #leon s kennedy #yandere leon kennedy #yandere themes #yandere writing #dilfartist

1K notes · View notes

hyugaruma · 9 months

Text

H&L: Sweet Things They Say To You

♡

re: how they show you they love you with their words…

hmmm idk how happy i am with this one but it’s been sitting in my notes for a minute soooo OH WELL

♡

Cobra: “I will forever fight for you and with you.” His lip is busted and his face is bruised. You can feel the way your heart clenches at seeing him battered from the fight he just partook in, some goons having thought it a good idea to harass you outside of ITOKAN Diner. Luckily your boyfriend had arrived just in time. Despite his marred state, he holds your gaze so that you know that he’s true to his word, and all you can do is nod.

The Mugen way of devotion and loyalty easily translates to Cobra in a relationship. He would literally die for you. Your fights are his fights. However, he tries his hardest to keep you out of his, and Sannoh’s, fights. He can’t imagine how he could live with himself if something happened to you.

Rocky: “I’ve waited my whole life to meet you.” Rocky softly places a hand on the small of your back, pulling you in close so he can bury his face in your neck. You can feel the tension in his shoulders dissipate at finally having you in his arms after an arduous day at Club Heaven. You respond by wrapping your arms around him to pull him in even closer. No other words are needed; just having you at his side is all he could ever ask for.

Rocky wholeheartedly means the words he says. He isn’t one to so easily dedicate himself to one person; he has many women to protect, after all. But the moment he meets you, he can’t even begin to imagine the way it was before. He was so lonely without ever having realized it.

Murayama: “I can’t wait to see you again.” Murayama is reluctant to release the grasp his hand has on your own, wasting as much time as possible standing with you outside your house after your date together. You can’t help but giggle at the obvious ploy, leaning in to land a chaste kiss on his cheek that sends the tips of his ears pink. He’s quick to pull you back in once you try to pull away, this time to land a playful kiss of his own on your lips.

Murayama lives to spend time with you. Right after he drops you off at your house after hanging out all day, he’s already texting you how much he misses you and trying to make plans as soon as possible. If you’d allow it, he would see you every day if possible. He’d never grow tired of you.

Smoky: “Thank you for choosing me.” The two of you sit side-by-side at the ledge of a deconstructed factory building, looking out at Nameless City laid out beneath you. You look to him, and he’s giving you a gentle, almost sad, smile. You can’t even imagine a world where you wouldn’t choose him, but somewhere swimming in those brown eyes of his is a self-doubt that you hope someday can be remedied. You give him a smile back, one that says you feel the exact same way.

Smoky can’t even comprehend why someone like you, someone so amazing, would choose someone like him. He really doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. Surely there’s someone out there who could give you more than he ever could, at least so he thinks. But, you did choose him, and he is forever thankful to have you by his side.

Hyuga: “Thank you for putting up with me.” Hyuga is sprawled out on the futon that the two of you share, watching as you change into your pajamas to settle down for the night. His eyes show a softness that he reserves only for you. He holds out a hand to beckon you to him, and you oblige, crawling into the futon to situate yourself between his lazy arms. He can’t help but land a light kiss on your temple before pulling you close to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Hyuga knows he’s not a perfect man. Far from it, even. He can’t imagine why you’re so willing to continue dealing with his ways, but he hopes you’ll continue to do so for a long, long while. If he could ask for one selfish wish, it would be to have you as his for the rest of his time on this earth.

Hiroto: “I’m always here for you.” Hiroto stands awkwardly in the doorway of your apartment as he eyes you closely. He can tell that something has been bothering you, but that you were reluctant to confide in him about your problems. You raise your eyes to meet his gaze and find nothing but complete honesty and truth within them. Feeling your own eyes begin to mist over, you opt to dropping your head to his chest to hide your show of emotions. A hand comes up to gently rest against the back of your neck, and to attempt to soothe your worries away.

Hiroto isn’t a man of many overtly affectionate words or gestures. He tends to show his love through action. But, he does want you to know that he would do anything for you. If you ever have a problem, he hopes that he’ll be the first person you come to, even if it’s just you needing a listening ear.

Ice: “I love every little thing about you.” Ice’s fingertips ghost delicately across your cheek and down your jaw, touch so soft it’s as if he’s afraid you might disappear right before his very eyes. He wears his signature shades, but you can still see the way his eyes admire you, flitting between your eyes to your nose to your lips, an affectionate reverence for each and every part of you. His hand rests on your neck as his thumb softly caresses your chin, and he can’t help the smile of complete adoration that overtakes him.

When Ice says he loves every little thing, he isn’t exaggerating. All your flaws and quirks, he wouldn’t give a single one of them up. He’s a man who accepts you completely and wholly. And he would spend the rest of his life ensuring that you see yourself in the light that he sees you in.

Jesse: “I love when you smile.” Jesse flops down on top of you lying down on the bed, resting his chin against your abdomen as he looks up at you with a cheeky, yet genuine, smile. In turn, you move your hand to brush through his blonde locks, and he leans fervently into your touch. You can feel the deep exhale he lets out. Jesse pushes himself up, hoisting himself to be positioned above you so that he’s now looking down at you. His own hand finds itself entangling with your hair, his eyes glued to that sweet, sweet smile on your lips.

Jesse isn’t someone who shows his affections through words, but nothing in the world makes his heart swell more than seeing your genuine smile. Especially if he was the cause of it. Your smile can instantly turn even his sourest of moods around. He spends his days chasing after the high of basking in your joy and happiness.

Ryu: “You’re my forever.” Ryu stands behind you, watching you from the mirror as you get ready to go out to dinner together. His hands find themselves snaking down to your hips, and his chin resting dutifully on your shoulder. He watches your shy reactions through the reflection, and the tiny smile that you can’t seem to hold back. His arms tighten as he pulls your back against his chest. You can feel his steady heartbeat. You lean your head against his and bask in the moment of utter tranquility with your lover.

Ryu doesn’t open himself up and give himself to others so willingly. You have to be a very special person to open up that side of him. So when he says ‘forever,’ he actually means ‘forever.’ He just hopes that you feel the same level of devotion, because he can’t imagine finding anyone like you again.

159 notes · View notes

supernovafics · 1 year

Text

meeting eyes with steve harrington across a crowded room

wc: 778 words

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

twenty feet, give or take.

that’s how far you and steve were from each other.

however, your eyes still somehow met from across the room. through the throngs of rowdy people dancing to the loud music that was playing and the many others that were yelling over it to be heard by their friends.

he smiled at you and it felt almost second nature to smile back at him.

the two of you hadn’t shown up to this club together. in fact, you had no idea that he’d be here. but that didn’t change how giddy you suddenly felt seeing him.

your “relationship” with him couldn’t even necessarily be considered as such. it was still so early that you hadn’t even told your friends about him yet; it was a precaution for you just in case things suddenly imploded as many of your previous relationships had. a big part of you felt that the relationship that eventually bloomed with steve would be different, but you still felt the need to protect yourself at least a little bit.

he was currently surrounded by his friends, who didn’t notice his eyes were now solely focused on you, and you were with yours, who were also too preoccupied to notice where your attention turned to.

you broke eye contact with him for a brief second, taking note of the dark hallway nearby that seemed secluded and away from all of the chaos that was a staple of clubs in this city. when you looked back at steve, you nodded your head in the direction of the hallway and started moving toward it, hoping that he would pick up on your hint and follow you. which he did.

“hi,” was the word that fell from your lips when the two of you were in the hallway, happily alone.

“hi.” he smiled at you again and even in the near complete darkness he still looked so fucking beautiful to you.

it had been nearly a month since you’d known him and he had come so out of the blue, so unexpected. it was like one day he wasn’t in your life and then the next he was consuming practically all of your thoughts. and somehow you were completely okay with that.

and you didn’t know but the feeling was completely mutual— you were constantly on his mind too.

a song that you didn’t recognize was playing and filling the quiet that was already filled by the look you and steve were sharing that felt like a million things were being communicated right then.

“wanna get out of here?” he asked, breaking the silence.

you were so close to saying yes to him and letting your hand slot in his and have him lead you wherever he wanted to go. but, then you remembered the reason you were at this club in the first place.

“i can’t. i’m here celebrating a friend’s birthday,” you said, feeling genuinely sad that you had to say no to him.

at first, he nodded at your answer but then thought for a brief moment before smiling a bit and saying, “but pancakes from 5th street?”

the mention of the diner that, according to both yours and his strong opinions, had the fluffiest pancakes in the world, pulled at your heartstrings. the two of you had found it two weeks ago and had been there five times already. and you had to admit, they sounded so good to you right then too.

you ignored steve’s question for a moment as you looked around the party, spotting your friends. the birthday girl was currently draped over her boyfriend who must have just shown up. because of that new turn of events, you quickly came to the realization that she wouldn’t notice if you left. and your other few friends probably wouldn’t care as much either because they were too busy having their own fun. and you wanted to have fun with steve; eating pancakes at the diner, sitting on the same side of the booth like lovesick teenagers, and talking until the sun came up. simply the thought of that warmed your insides and made your heart swell.

you knew that probably tomorrow you’d have to finally mention him when your friends eventually asked why you left the club early, and the thought of that future conversation actually didn’t scare you.

“okay, let’s get pancakes,” you ultimately said, smiling up at him. “you know how to win me over way too easily.”

his hand found yours, lacing them together and pulling it up to press a kiss to the back of your hand; you swore you could’ve combusted right then.

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things blurb #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff

474 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Text

Bateman Begins Part 40

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Notes: Slightly shorter chapter this time around, soz 🦇🖤 Pairing: Nathan Bateman x Reader Rating: M Warnings: None, tbh

"Do you miss him?"

It's a loaded question, and asked without any teasing.

You avoid Barry's eyes, reaching out and nabbing a few fries from his plate. You practically stuff them into your mouth to keep from answering.

He tips his head to the side, giving you a knowing look. You take your drink up next, taking a deep sip and swallowing thickly before offering, "Did I mention it's nice to see you?"

Barry scoffs a laugh, brows raising as he breathes, "Wow!"

"Shut up," You mutter, sliding down in your seat.

The diner is busier than you've seen it, and busier than you expected it to be. Then again, with Christmas closing in in Metropolis, maybe people have come to visit family, or are there to spend their vacation.

The diner is one of your absolute favorite places that you've frequented in the year and a half that you've lived in Metropolis.

The booths are comfy, they don't make farting noises when you shuffle in and out of them, the food is fricking delicious, and not pricey.

But, in the time that you've been in Metropolis, you haven't been able to banish Nathan from your mind.

Oh, you've tried.

You have spent nights wide awake, trying to forget the way Nathan teased you.

The way he held you, and kissed you.

On the worst nights, you're jolted awake by the dizzying nightmares of that night in the Narrows, what you'd been certain were Nathan's cries for help before you'd been attacked on the roof.

But you've adjusted to being in Metropolis, and being alone.

"...How is he?" You ask lightly.

"Depends on who you ask," Barry shrugs. "Giselle's invited me to a couple of events, we've kinda made eye contact, but we haven't talked. Giselle said he's been doing a lot of press....And it seems to be taking it out of him."

Good.

It bubbles up in behind your lips, and you force it down with another sip of your drink.

"What even happened between you two?" Barry asks, folding his arms on the table.

You sigh softly, shaking your head a little.

"We just...We hit some roadblocks. There was some stuff we couldn't get past."

"Stuff like Vicki Vale?"

"No, not that—I mean yeah, that, but not just that. I think her being around made me realize that he and I just had a lot of differences, things that we just couldn't...Fix."

"You tell Nathan that?"

"...Not in so many words." You clear your throat, waving Barry off. "Anyway. That's passed, it's over, it's...Let's talk about something else! Is there anything that you wanna do over the next few days?"

"Hey, you're the transplant, you tell me."

You mimic him, abruptly stopping as the waitress comes by with the check. You reach for it, but Barry waves you off, warning, "Ah ah. Lemme get dinner since you're letting me crash at yours."

"And because it's dead-cheap?"

"And because it's dead-cheap," Barry grins, reaching for his wallet.

"So, apart from work, which you spend way too much time at, by the way," Barry adds, hip-checking you as you walk down the block toward your apartment, "How are you finding Metropolis?"

"Uh...Fine," You shrug. "It's like any other city, I guess, you know. Busy streets, tons of traffic, overpriced coffee. Nothing I can't handle."

"And, uh...The crime?"

"It could be worse. Trust me—I know worse." You're quiet for a moment, eyeing the pavement. "I've had a couple of visits."

"From Nathan?"

"Lex Luthor."

You glance toward Barry, then look away again quickly when you see his stunned expression.

"What did Lex Luthor want with you?"

"He was just being a dick, you know. Asking why I didn't come to work for him when I moved."

"Why didn't you?"

Because Nathan would've hated it.

"Because I would've hated it."

Barry leans against the door frame, watching as you fish into your pocket for your front door key.

"You been seeing anyone?" He prods. You frown, glancing toward him.

"What's that got to do with Lex Luthor?"

"Nothing. I'm just curious."

"...No," You shrug. "I've been busy."

Glancing up at Barry again, you find him with his brows raised, head tipped forward in disbelief.

"What?" You laugh.

"Nothing," He reaches out, turning the knob of the unlocked door. "Just trying to figure out why you're still loyal to the man that you left."

He leaves you on your doorstep, gob-smacked and shivering.

It stops you dead in your tracks on the way to work. You take a few steps back, squinting at the newspaper in the stand.

Maybe it seems scandalous to the average reader, but you know better, and it has to be a mistake.

Batman takes Prince of Gotham Hostage

How the hell could Nathan take himself hostage?

It's got to be a rumor, or a misprint, or—

Or something?

You pick the paper up, fishing into your pocket for cash and passing it over. You can't take your eyes off of the newspaper as you walk, nearly wandering into traffic a time or two, walking into no less than three streetlights.

You don't have the chance to really dig into it until you reach your office. You shrug your jacket and bag off before you plop into your office chair and finally flip to page two.

According to eyewitness reports, Bateman was last seen at a lavish party. He disappeared around 8:15 on Monday evening, claiming that he needed to speak with the party's coordinator. After nearly an hour without the host, and unable to find him in his cavernous mansion, attendants called 911. Police said that their investigation into the matter took a shocking turn when they caught sight of the vigilante known as Batman escaping through a side window. There have been no further signs of Bateman, and while the investigation is ongoing, police suspect the worst.

You lean back in your seat, lowering the paper as the wheels spin in your head.

Monday. Monday was nearly six days ago. How were you only just hearing about it?

You reach into your pocket, fumbling with your phone and drawing it out with shaking hands.

It has to be a stunt, right? Some kind of ruse?

Something must have gone wrong, or sideways.

Maybe Nathan had gotten a tip about some crime, and had thought he could just leave the party for a little while. Maybe he was caught coming back in the suit and had to hide.

Maybe he's just laying low.

He'll come back with some wild, funny story, something to shut the press up.

You open your contacts, scrolling through to Nathan's. You tap on it without hesitation, raising the phone to your ear.

His voice, you just need to hear his voice and you'll know that everything is okay—

"I'm sorry; the number you have reached is not in service, or temporarily disconnected."

You lower the phone, your heart pounding in your chest.

No. No, this can't be happening, this can't be right.

Something is very, very wrong.

"I just think this is a little rash," Barry warns, but he makes no move to stop you as you dart back and forth from your dresser to where your suitcase is open on your bed.

"I know what I'm doing, Barry."

"Do you? Quitting your job to go back to Gotham because Batman kidnapped Nathan?"

"It isn't—" You go quiet, pressing your lips into a thin, tight line and drawing a deep breath in through your nose. You trust Barry, but you can't tell him the truth, not like this. "I know this seems insane, but this just doesn't feel right."

"What do you think you're going to get by going back?" Barry asks. "You've got nowhere to stay, no job, no plan."

"I have a plan," You swear, "And that plan is to find Nathan."

"The cops can't even find Nathan."

"They don't know him like I do."

You kneel up on your bed, cramming your clothing into the suitcase as hard as you can. There's no way you're going to get it to shut—

You go still as Barry reaches out, taking up a bulky sweater and folding it properly before he reaches for the next item of clothing.

"Let me do this," He sighs resignedly, "Go check to see if your flight has anymore seats. I'm coming back with you."

Your heart soars, and you grin, rounding the bed and throwing your arms around Barry, pecking his cheek between your mutters of, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Alright, alright," He chuckles, waving you off, "Go."

You hurry into the living room, opening your laptop.

You frown as you hear what sounds like a rustling of wind, and glance toward your room.

"Barry? Did you open the window?"

"...A little!"

"Why?"

"Fresh air helps me pack!"

You shake your head, muttering, "Little weirdo," Before you take your laptop off of the counter, walking back toward your bedroom. "So there are a couple of seats available, but they're not to—..." You slow, brow furrowing as you spot your now neatly-packed suitcase. "—Gether...Uh. How the fuck did you do that?"

"I was in, uh...Speed-packing competitions when I was a kid?"

"Is that a thing?"

"...In Central City, yeah."

You eye him for a moment, his bright, smiling face and raised brows.

...Something doesn't feel right about that, either, but one thing at a time.

"O...Kay. Anyway, as I was saying, there are a few seats available but none together."

"That's fine, book 'em," Barry shrugs. "Whatever gets us back fastest."

"Done and done."

Tag list: Tag list: @blueeyesatnight ; @revolution-starter ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @foxilayde @danniburgh ; @carbonated-beverage ; @brandyllyn ; @missredherring ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @ew-erin ; @recklessworry ; @xocalliexo ; @youngkenobilove ; @chattychell ; @lorecraft ; @thembosapphicclown ; @emotionalsupportbatfamily ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink

#Nathan Bateman x Reader #Nathan Bateman x You #Nathan Bateman/Reader #Nathan Bateman/You #Nathan Bateman fic #Nathan Bateman imagine #Bateman Begins

88 notes · View notes

i-am-the-entertainer · 7 months

Text

Tick, Tick... Boom! Filming Locations

Some people have too much time on their hands. I am one of those people.

One of the things I love about Tick, Tick... Boom is the obvious affection the filmmakers have for the NYC theater scene, an affection shared with the film's subject Jonathan Larson. To that end, I recently decided to try to identify some of the filming locations in the film.

One thing that was extremely helpful in this process was the "special thanks" list in the film's credits, which names a lot of the orgs that were used in location shooting and from which I was able to make some really good guesswork.

Note that this is mainly for location shoots. Things like the recreated Moondance Diner, which was done on a set, are not included in this.

508 Greenwich Street - Jonathan's apartment

(from MWhiteShelley on Twitter/X) This is probably the most obvious location: Jonathan Larson's actual address. While interiors of the apartment itself were filmed on a set in a soundstage, it is obvious on viewing the film that there was some location shooting at the building, most prominently in "No More" when Jonathan and Michael enter and climb the stairs.

The Underground Theater at Abrons Arts Center - The musical theater workshop scene

(from their website) You'll probably recognize this brutalist theater from the Stephen Sondheim workshop scene (which, according to this video, was one of the last scenes shot) – it also briefly appears a few shots earlier in the scene where Ira Weitzman is observing Jonathan rehearsing. The Abrons Arts Center is located in the Lower East Side and is part of the Henry Street Settlement.

The Strand Bookstore - "30/90" and Sextet

(From an article by The Guardian, photo by Bruce yuanye Bi/Alamy) The Strand is instantly recognizable to New Yorkers, maybe less-so for others unless you've visited as a tourist. It's a giant independent bookstore located two blocks from Union Square. Prominently featured in "30/90" and visited by Jonathan during the "Sextet Montage" where he tries to sell some of his records.

Teatro LATEA at the Clemente - Susan's dance recital

(from their Instagram) This one was a little harder, because obviously it's just a black box theater and how many of those are there in NYC? What clued me in was 1) the Clemente Soto Velez Cultural and Educational Center, where Teatro LATEA is located, is thanked in the credits and 2) those chairs (a little bit more obvious in this photo). I've seen and worked a fair number of shows in that theater, and as soon as I noticed the very distinctive chairs for Susan's dance recital I was able to look more closely at the scene and immediately could map out the layout of Teatro Latea.

The Delacorte Theater - "Why"

Another easily recognizable location for locals, the Delacorte is the amphitheater where Jonathan sneaks in and sings "Why". It doesn't get named in the film but it does in the stage version.

Hunter College's Thomas Hunter Hall Sixth Floor North Dance Studio - The Superbia workshop

(from Facebook) This was, without question, the hardest location to find. In the film it's identified as being in the Theater District, specifically at Playwrights Horizons (an Untapped Cities article about filming locations even claims this, and uh, basically gets everything wrong). However, if you've ever been to the modern Playwrights Horizons, it looks very different, both on the inside and the outside, and while they do have rehearsal spaces in a slightly less-remodeled building on Lafayette Street, none of the spaces there look like that. The reference to Hunter College in the credits narrowed it down, and then it was just a matter of finding photos of the studios (this gallery of recent restoration work shows the different angles that you will recognize from the movie), discovering an architectural plan of some planned renovations in the building, and then looking out the windows of the building and comparing it to Google Maps street view to figure out which side of the building it was on.

...I have waaaaay too much time on my hands.

I do want to point out, Thomas Hunter Hall is actually located on Lexington Avenue between 68th and 69th, quite a few blocks northeast from the Theater District depicted in the film.

New York Theatre Workshop - The framing scenes

(from a New York Theatre Guide article) The real Jonathan Larson's artistic home, where he performed both Rent and the original version of tick, tick... BOOM! thirty years ago. Both the theater's exterior (at the start of "Louder Than Words") and interior (the tick, tick... BOOM! performance scenes) feature prominently in the movie.

Fun fact: when they were shooting the film in March, they originally planned to film the NYTW scenes inside a recreated set because there was a show playing at the theater at the time (though not referenced in the linked video, I happen to know that the show was Endlings by Celine Song, the writer/director of the recent Oscar contender Past Lives) but when filming restarted the theater was available again because of the shutdown.

Any other locations you recognized that I didn't include? Let me know! Currently trying to figure out where Michael's apartment building (Victory Towers) was located – the scene in the car leading to the arrival at teh building makes me think it's somewhere near Central Park, but that footage could also have been filmed separately.

#tick tick boom #broadway #jonathan larson #rent #film

4 notes · View notes

fastrepaircaree · 1 day

Text

Understanding Golden Corral Prices Today: A Comprehensive Guide

Golden Corral has long been known as a go-to destination for an all-you-can-eat buffet experience. Whether you’re dining with family, friends, or even by yourself, Golden Corral offers a wide range of dishes to suit everyone’s taste. One of the most common questions diners have before visiting is, “What are the Golden Corral prices today?” In this article, we’ll explore what factors affect the buffet pricing, the general dining experience, and why Golden Corral remains a favorite choice for many.

The Appeal of Golden Corral

Golden Corral is well known for its diverse menu that includes options like steaks, seafood, fried chicken, salads, and various sides. The buffet setup allows guests to choose from a wide selection of foods, catering to different dietary preferences. Whether you prefer meat-heavy meals, vegetarian options, or lighter dishes, you’ll always find something to enjoy.

What makes Golden Corral stand out is its commitment to freshness and variety. New dishes are frequently introduced, and they ensure that their buffet items are replenished regularly to maintain the quality of food. This variety and consistency make Golden Corral a reliable option for any occasion.

Factors That Affect Golden Corral Prices Today

One of the primary factors that influence Golden Corral prices today is the location. The prices may vary slightly depending on the city or state where the restaurant is located. Urban areas or places with higher living costs might have slightly higher prices compared to more rural locations.

Another factor is the time of day you choose to dine. Lunch prices tend to be lower than dinner prices. The difference comes from the fact that dinner often includes premium items like steaks or seafood, which may not be available during lunch hours. It’s worth noting that the price for children’s meals is generally lower, making it an affordable option for families.

In addition to these factors, special occasions or holidays might bring slight increases in the buffet prices. During these times, Golden Corral often includes festive or seasonal dishes, enhancing the dining experience. However, the value you receive for the price remains consistent, as the buffet always offers a wide variety of high-quality dishes.

Golden Corral Buffet: A Value for Money Experience

Golden Corral prices today reflect the value diners receive for an all-you-can-eat experience. For one set price, guests can enjoy as many trips to the buffet as they like. This makes it an affordable option, especially for larger groups or families. Given the variety of foods available, from hearty main courses to delightful desserts, the cost is justified.

Many patrons appreciate the opportunity to try new dishes without the commitment of ordering a full meal. Whether you want to sample a little bit of everything or stick to your favorites, Golden Corral’s buffet format allows for endless customization. Additionally, the beverage selection is vast, and many locations offer unlimited refills as part of the meal price.

Special Promotions and Discounts

Golden Corral is known for offering various promotions and discounts. These can include special deals for seniors, military personnel, or large groups. Checking in with your local Golden Corral to see if they have any ongoing promotions can help you make the most of your dining experience.

Golden Corral prices today may also be affected by regional promotions, so it’s worth keeping an eye out for deals specific to your location. Loyalty programs or special offers for repeat customers are another way to save on future visits, further adding to the value of the Golden Corral experience.

Why Golden Corral Remains a Favorite Choice

Golden Corral has maintained its position as a beloved buffet restaurant due to its wide range of offerings and consistently good value. Whether it’s for a casual family outing, a group gathering, or a special occasion, Golden Corral provides a relaxed and welcoming atmosphere where everyone can enjoy a satisfying meal.

One of the reasons Golden Corral prices today continue to be reasonable is the restaurant’s ability to cater to a wide audience. From budget-conscious diners to those seeking variety, Golden Corral strikes a balance between affordability and quality. The diverse menu ensures that guests always have something new and exciting to look forward to, no matter how many times they’ve visited.

Conclusion

When considering the Golden Corral prices today, it’s clear that the restaurant offers excellent value for money. With its wide selection of foods, affordable pricing, and welcoming atmosphere, Golden Corral continues to be a popular choice for many. While prices may vary slightly depending on location and time of day, the overall experience remains one that is hard to beat. Whether you’re visiting for lunch or dinner, Golden Corral is sure to provide a satisfying and enjoyable dining experience for everyone.

0 notes

jjksblackgf · 2 years

Text

for a good time | myg (m)

❃ Festivaled Away: Burning Memories Music Festival hosted by @bangtanbathhouse ⤞ Ticket: era of music ⤞ Main Event: based on a song ⤞ Games: phone sex

⤞ based on the song Don't Look Any Further by Dennis Edwards

pairing — phone sex operator!yoongi x fem reader summary — How many dimes does it take to make you cum, baby? genre — fluff, smut, 80's au, angst if you squint rate — 18+ word count — 3.5k warnings — explicit sexual content, nicotine use, phone sex, public (ish) sex, dirty talk, degradation, alcohol intake. author's note — big thanks to Sophie @kookskingdom for letting me use her name. I love you, baby <33

“Good morning New York City! It's 7:20 in the morning here at the Z100 station. Don’t forget to grab your coats before you leave for work, the weather is not going to be nice for those who like to stay above the 70º Fahrenheit.”

The radio host continued to make the morning announcements, but Y/N could only think of the hot coffee on her mug, and the pop tarts on her plate. She looks at the calendar placed in the kitchen, and she can almost count the days until her semester is over. She’s so not going to miss NYU when she graduates. I should’ve taken advantage of Spring Break to catch up on sleep when I had the chance.

“And now, the number one song on the charts, here at 100.3 FM… ‘We Are the World’...”

“Have a good day in class today, honey.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Eat a big lunch later, don’t forget that you have your study session today.”

Pigs could fly, hell could freeze over, the sky could fall, Nixon could win the war on drugs, but one thing that could never happen is Y/N forgetting about her weekly study session at her campus library.

“Don’t worry, mom,” she affirms in a chipper tone.

Not much drama happens at this small two bedroom apartment. Y/N’s life is fairly normal for a 20-year-old college student. She has breakfast with her parents every morning before catching two trains from Queens to Manhattan. Then, she thanks God for having only a three block walk from the station to her classes. She works part time at a local diner, on Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays from 1 to 7 PM, and every Thursday she spends her afternoon babysitting the neighbor’s babies while studying for her classes.

Very boring routine. Except for Wednesdays.

On the west side of Washington Square Park, in front of NYU’s Hayden Residence building, there’s a payphone that sits in between some bushes and a tree that resides inside the park’s limits. At 3 PM, while there’s a low traffic of pedestrians, she calls Magic.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Magic,” says the nasal voice. His usual 2:30 PM client, Mrs. Kelly.

“Is that what you’re calling me?” Magic asks, “I thought we agreed I was going to be the submissive today,” he adds before taking a puff of his cigarette.

“I have an emergency staff meeting in about ten minutes, so we’ll have to continue our experimentation tomorrow. I just need a quickie before I implode,”

“Okay, so why don’t you open those pretty legs for me? And you better be wearing the stockings I like if you don’t want to be punished.”

“Fuck, you’re good,” she whispers in the other line, and Magic smiles. Middle aged women are just so easy to please. “They’re all open for you, Mr. Magic. But I have been a bad girl. I’m wearing the brown ones.”

“Well then, all there’s left to do is to punish you, isn’t it?” he says before taking another hit, and Mrs. Kelly whimpers in pleasure and anticipation, “Are your office doors closed?”

“Yes, they are, Mister.”

“Tsk, that’s very bad, you see? Very, very bad!”

“W-Why?” Mrs. Kelly asks, anxiety now mixed with desire.

“Well, you’re gonna have to learn who’s really in charge here. So I need you to open that door and let everyone in that reception of yours know who’s your boss.”

“W-What?”

“You heard me, I don’t have to repeat myself,”

“Magic, I could get fired, please don’t do this to me…” Mrs. Kelly starts to beg in a whisper.

“Is Mr. Magic for you, and I don’t have all day. And if I recall correctly, you have a staff meeting in about five minutes,”

He sincerely thought he was about to lose a client, a daily client at that. He could not afford to lose a regular client, but he was in too deep now. But before he could regret it too deeply, he hears a door open on the other end of the line. He gives Mrs. Kelly a minute to readjust before giving her more orders.

“Good girl. But your punishment is just starting, darling,” Magic says as he blows smoke one more time, “You’re going to grab a pen and make a run on that ugly pantyhose. Right on that pretty little cunt. After that you’re going to write “I belong to Mr. Magic” on your inner thigh. Narrate those things while you do it so I know you’re being an obedient girl.”

2:43 PM

‘Fraternity Vacation’, that’s so interesting! Comedies are always great, even the ones with bad critic reviews, you can always count on shitty movies to…

2:43 PM

UGH! Was time never going to pass? Y/N was getting impatient for her weekly appointment, and reading and rereading the movie’s section of the paper wasn’t entertaining her like it usually does.

Such a nice blouse that lady has… Oh, what a cute puppy!... I wish I had a dog when I was growing up… That tree is getting kind of bushy… The city’s going to do something about that, but it looks so pretty right now…

Y/N was skilled on how to distract herself, and it was always a plus to live in New York City, there’s always something you can stare at and form an opinion to pass the time. She noticed many different hair cuts, how the pigeons were behaving today, the sounds of the food carts a few yards over.

It didn’t slip her mind when she started fantasizing about her and Magic. It happened often. Every time she’d notice a young couple making out, she’d wish it was her and Magic. Watching an old couple sit on a park bench and read the paper together, wishing it was her and Magic. Watching teenagers sharing an ice cream, wishing it was her and Magic.

She also had fantasies of her own. Walking through the park holding hands, pointing to her favorite tree. They would sit there and have an impromptu picnic, buying a couple of hotdogs with mustard. She would open a book and read her favorite passages, and he would listen while caressing her back and arms.

But she quickly pushed those thoughts away once she noticed an old lady smiling at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to startle you,” the old lady says “I just noticed your smile, and it reminded me of when I was about your age, my first marriage,” the lady says, longing thickening her voice. “I was so in love with my Harold, I thought I was going to throw up, and shit my pants,”

“Oh, wow!” Y/N says, not really invested in the conversation, waiting for an opening to excuse herself.

“Young love is so beautiful, your cheeks get all flushed, your head gets woozy, and you feel drunk all day…” Y/N just nods, looking around, trying to diffuse the conversation. “But you have to be careful, sugar. These men are only here to flirt with you and break your heart! You listen to me!”

“I will! Thanks for the advice,” Y/N smiles awkwardly, and finally gets out of there.

Love. What about love? That lady doesn’t know anything. I’m not in love. I’m just horny, not in love. I hope.

With the coins in the machine, she dials the known number. It only rings once before the familiar voice picks up.

“You’re never late, are you?” Magic jokes at the other end of the line. His husky voice, so luscious, sends butterflies down her stomach, making Y/N drop her guard, and laugh like a teenager in love. Shit.

“I try my best not to be,” Y/N replies, trying to keep the silly smile off her voice. No need to embarrass herself any further.

“By the way, happy early birthday,” he wishes, his voice sincere.

“Oh my God, you remembered!” Was it three weeks ago that she had mentioned her birthday party? Probably. And he remembered.

“Of course! I need you to have a wild night this Saturday, and have a drink in my honor,”

“Absolutely,” she says, screaming on the inside. Shit, I’m really in love with him.

“So, how was your day today?”

“Mostly boring. The only thing that kept me perky was the thought that I would talk to you today.”

“Oh, really? That’s flattering,” Magic says, and she fantasizes that he also has a silly smile on his face. “So we’re feeling soft today,”

“Yeah, we haven’t talked in a while.”

“Seven days to be exact,”

“Yeah…” Stop acting like he’s your boyfriend. He isn’t. Stop the fantasies! Get your shit together. “So, how was your week?”

“Fine, mostly boring work hours,” he chuckles.

“I hope you’re not saying this to the other girls. That’s not a nice way to encourage your paying clients,” Y/N scolds.

“Would you forgive me if I confessed that I thought about you this whole week?”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure you say this to every other client,”

“That’s not true. You’re the only one I read poems to,” Magic says, trying to cheer her up. He can tell she’s not well. Her voice is not as chipper as it usually is. He hears her sigh on the other end of the line. “Is there something on your mind? Talk to me,”

“I don’t know, I’m just feeling loopy today, that’s all.”

“And you don’t feel like doing anything today?”

“Actually, I think that’s kind of the opposite,” she chuckles, “Distract me, please,”

“I thought about you while taking a shower today,” Magic confesses.

“You did not!” she whispers, excited.

“I did, too!” he chuckles, “I was washing my hair, imagining if you’d like the scent of my shampoo. I was soaping my body, wishing those were your hands instead of mine.”

“Oh, God,”

“I would’ve kissed your hands before guiding them down my chest, down my abs,”

“Shut up,” she whines in a whisper, but that only entices Magic to continue.

“You would’ve reached me, and I would be ready for your hands. I would be at your mercy. There would be no commands from me, my body would be yours,” Yoongi closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself, he’s feeling his pants getting tighter. Never with a client Yoongi wanted to cross this boundary and touch himself. At least not without being requested to.

He desperately wanted to moan her name, and touch himself, and touch her. But that would be inappropriate. So he places his free hand on his neck, firmly. This hand would not move without Y/N asking him to. But his imagination was still running wild, and there was nothing more he wanted to do than say those words to her.

“Mmhm,” Y/N prompted, her voice a little husky, sounding like she has a moaning trouble of her own.

“I would moan your name over and over. The only name I’d known in the world. Your delicate hands, so fierce for me, would make me cum, probably on your belly. But no worries. I would bite your jawline, go down your neck, licked your beautiful breasts, cleaned my cum with my tongue, before diving into that pretty pussy with my lips,”

“God damn it, you’re going to make me cum in public,”

“I would get on my knees, place your thigh on my shoulder. I would kiss your core, already wet for me. I would get hard again, just because you taste so good. Your hand would grip my hair, and you would moan for me to never stop. Not in a million years I would do that. I would circle the tip of my tongue on your clit, and too soon you would cum all over my chin,”

“I love you, Magic” she whispers. Softly, tenderly. Pink roses, chocolate, and wine. And the world stops.

His eyes, closed for the past minute, shot wide open. Her breath spikes and his heartbeat is going a million miles per hour. What?

Yoongi doesn’t know how to respond. Did she really mean what she just said? He’s never been in this situation before. This job was always fun for both parties, but it always felt transactional. There was no emotion to be felt except pleasure and lust.

That’s the thing with having mostly middle aged clients. They have always made it clear that they loved the way they felt when they talked to Magic, never did they love him. Why would they? They were aware of the fact that they didn’t know the 22-year-old on the other side of the phone. They knew the character that molds and fits to every sexual fantasy.

But to someone his age, that may be different. The potential for an emotional connection that he hadn’t anticipated. Maybe that’s better. To be seen. To have someone on the other end of the line that would like to know him. His thoughts were in disarray, but he liked the feeling of being seen.

“I have to go,” Y/N says, and before she can embarrass herself even more, she hangs up, tightening her jacket and walking the other way as fast as she can.

For the past two days, Y/N used her distraction skills to her advantage. All assignments done, took all the extra credit she could take. The neighbor’s kids were happy and tired from playing. She earned extra tips from being such a good waitress, and a compliment from her boss for the good work she was putting in.

Her room was clean beyond recognition, her vinyls in the correct sleeves, her cassettes organized in alphabetical order. Bright and early Saturday morning, after a celebratory breakfast with her parents, she cleaned the entire house.

“Why are you in such a hurry these days?” her mother asks, catching her at the bathroom door, before Y/N decides to clean something else that was already clean. “It’s your birthday, put your feet up for a minute.”

“Thank you, momma, but I want to keep busy, turn a new page.”

“Why are you turning a new leaf? You’re only 21,”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs “It just feels like a good time,”

Y/N manages to dodge her mother’s questions for the rest of the morning, locking herself in her room and beginning to color code her small closet.

She was not to think of the stupid mistake she made on Wednesday. The first time she said that to a human being that wasn’t part of her family. Granted she did say ‘I love you’ to her Prince poster, but it’s not like Prince could say it back to her.

She didn’t call Prince and give him the opportunity to say ‘I love you’ back. And when he didn’t say it back, she wasn’t heartbroken. Prince was a poster, not a human being with a phone number. The old lady was right. Men do only exist to break your heart.

The tears started to slowly drip down her cheeks. She made such a fool of herself. Falling in love with a man she never met. A man that had nothing to say, that only opened his mouth when he was offering his services.

“Heeey,” Y/N heard the door open, as Sophie entered her room “are you ready to get drunk?” Sophie whispered, closing the door behind her.

Y/N nods, looking at her boring outfit in the mirror once again. Blue jeans, white t-shirt, blue denim jacket, and white shoes. “I don’t look like a 21 year-old.”

“Don’t worry, your driver’s license will say that for you,” Sophie says. “Now, time to spice up this outfit, because you’re not leaving the house looking like this.”

A good 30 minutes later, Y/N was leaving with a whole new look. Blue jeans, black turtleneck, with black boots and lots of necklaces and bracelets. Sophie swapped their jackets, giving her black leather and taking the denim. Good thing it fit nicely with her ruffle skirt.

“Much better,” Sophie says, twirling Y/N around to look at her entire outfit. “Let’s go, Lane and Mary are meeting us there.”

Paradise Garage. The dream birthday party spot of every person in the Tri State Area. The club was full, and the crowd cheered and sang along to Donna Summer. Y/N wasn’t really in the mood to dance and be joyful. But it was her birthday, and her friends spent an amazing amount of effort to put them on the list. So the birthday drinks start coming, the DJ plays her favorite disco songs, and before she knows it, Love to Love You Baby feels like a karaoke song.

The night goes on and on, and Y/N wants to soak up all of the energy she can. She wants to enjoy her birthday party with her best friends, and she’ll get her money’s worth tonight.

“I think you need to drink some more water before we leave,” Lane says, watching her shy friend dance clumsily. It’s almost three in the morning, and the party is starting to die down.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that drunk anymore,” Y/N says, but her friends drag her across the floor anyway, sitting her on a bar stool.

“We’re going to the bathroom, do you want to go?” Mary asks, and when Y/N shakes her head, she turns to the bartender. “She’ll have water. Can you make sure she doesn't wander off? We’ll be back in just a second.”

Y/N barely pays attention to what’s happening around her, she’s enjoying herself playing with her bracelets. A bottle of water is placed in front of her, along with some peanuts. She looked up, and she knew that even drunk, she would never forget the face of this beautiful man in front of her.

“You should eat something, too,” he says, pointing at the peanuts. “Soak up the alcohol. That’s booze 101 for you,” he winks and Y/N giggles, but stops herself shortly after.

“I can’t giggle with you…” she manages to say, but her sentence drags at the end.

“And why’s that?” the bartender asks, amused.

“Because men only flirt to break your heart,” she explains, shoving peanuts in her mouth. “And you would only flirt with me because you like tips.”

“Oh, wow, who broke your heart, baby?” the man starts to clean up the mess in his counter, Y/N’s mess while she eats.

“My boyfriend, but he’s not really my boyfriend,” she tries to explain, “I don’t really know him, I only talk to him.”

“Communication is good to every relationship,”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know. I only talk to him on the phone to have sex. Yeah, you heard me right,” she starts to rant, already munching on her second batch of peanuts. “I call this guy, to have sex. Through the phone, I mean. His name is Magic. And you want to know what else? I told him I loved him, like the stupid idiot that I am. And now I don’t know if I can call him again. He thinks I’m a weirdo.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t,”

“Yeah, whatever,” she scoffs, but she starts to think as the alcohol starts to wear off. “Do you think I should call him?” she asks the bartender, laying her arm on the counter and her head at the top.

“I think you should,” the bartender answers, “at the very least to break up with him, if you decide you don’t want to call him anymore,”

“What if I sound like an idiot? Can I blame you?” she asks and he laughs.

“Yes, you can come back here and kick my ass.”

Wednesday. April 24th, 1985. 3 PM. The date and hour she decided to get her heart broken again.

With the coins in the machine, she dials the known number. It only rings once before the familiar voice picks up.

“Hey,” Magic answers, his voice softer than she’d imagined it would sound like today. He didn’t even sound like he was expecting anyone else.

“Hi,” she manages to say. But she doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t know how to proceed from here.

“When I told you I wanted you to have a drink in my honor, I didn’t imagine I was going to be the one to mix it.”

“What?”

“By the way, that leather jacket looks great on you.”

“Excuse me, what?” she asks again. Is her mind playing tricks with her? Did she actually wake up this morning, or is she having the weirdest dream? The butterflies flew wild inside her body. It was like springtime was being born inside of her.

“I don’t think you’re a weirdo. I don’t think you sound like an idiot either. I want to get to know you. But if you’re feeling silly and want to blame your bartender, I know where he lives,” he chuckles, and she joins. Stupid happy tears flowing down her face.

“I want to get to know you, too,”

“Good. My name is Yoongi,” he prompts, and her smile gets wider.

“Hi, Yoongi. My name is Y/N.”

#bangtanbathhouse #festivaledaway #bts ambw #kpop ambw #black kpop fans #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts imagines #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi ambw

408 notes · View notes

marauderundercover · 2 years

Text

Waffles and War Stories

AO3

Note, this takes place immediately after ch. 12 of “A Guide to Love and Coffee in the City of Crime which can be found here on AO3 or here on Tumblr. You don’t need to read that to understand this chapter. Just know that identities are still secret, but the League now knows about the ‘Paris Situation’.

---

Marinette walks into the diner, grinning when she spots her cousins, Aunt and Uncle already waiting for her.

“Hey guys!” She says cheerily, not missing the way her Uncle scans over her as if assessing for injuries. Once he seems satisfied that she wasn’t currently hurt, he smiles back at her.

“Hey Sunshine.” He says, his smile unwavering as she slides into the booth. Glancing between each of her family members, she sighs before slumping slightly.

“Who told you?” She asks. Uncle Clark raises an eyebrow.

“Pardon?” He says. She sighs again, straightening.

“Who told you about the Paris situation? Was it Tim? Or maybe Nadja? Oh. I guess maybe Jimmy found out somehow-” She starts to ramble before Conner cuts her off.

“Mars, what are you talking about?” He asks, his confusion clear. Marinette frowns.

“The situation in Paris?” She says, and immediately the boys all stiffen. “So you do know.”

“What gave us away?” Her Uncle asks. She shrugs, then grins.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it was the dozens of missed calls from the boys once I could get to my phone again. Or the texts. Or the call from you.” She lists off, putting down a finger for each one. “Or maybe it’s how you looked at me like you expected me to be injured when I walked in.” Her Uncle sighs.

“Are you- mad at us?” He asks. She snorts, then shakes her head.

“Why would I be mad that you found out about Paris? Like, yes, I originally didn’t want you to know because you can be super overprotective, but now? It’s not like you can just suddenly get to Paris. Plus this way, Maman, Papa and I don’t have to hide it anymore. And we can talk about all of the funny akuma stories, though there’s not really many of those anymore.” Marinette rambles. Her family just stares at her for a moment. Completely silent. And then Aunt Lois starts laughing.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I thought your reaction would be, but I should’ve guessed you’d want to look at the bright side. Or the funny side. You are just like your Uncle.” She says fondly, shaking her head. Marinette grins.

“Why, thank you.” She says. Aunt Lois snorts again, before letting out a long sigh.

“Okay kid. We have several years worth of stories to listen to about the whole ‘Hawkmoth’ and ‘akuma’ situation, and we have a ton of breakfast food to eat. Where do you wanna start?”

—-

Clark was doing his best to keep an easy smile on his face while Marinette told stories, smiling and laughing as she relayed her stories to the boys and Lois. Her stories of being a civilian caught in the middle of a magical war that the Justice League had done nothing to stop. And although he was smiling, Clark was screaming internally. He’d never thought to x-ray his niece before for no reason. After all, why would he? Every time she’d fallen down or off of something, he’d x-rayed her, but she hadn’t been clumsy like that since before she was twelve. And now here she was, sixteen years old, with bones that looked like they’d been shattered and re-healed dozens upon dozens of times. Because according to the Parisian heroes, all physical damage was fixed by their powers. So her bones were no longer broken. Her spine no longer snapped, her skull no longer crushed, her neck- physically she was fine. But how was she mentally? How much of the horrors did his poor niece remember? He’d seen a video of a particularly bad akuma. Syren, they’d called her. Paris had been flooded beyond recognition, with only around four hundred survivors left on the rooftops. Did she remember it? Was she one of the lucky ones? Or did she drown, slowly losing the ability to breathe before taking in that last gasp- the water that would fill her lungs and ease her out of her suffering as she numbed to everything. It made him sick to think about, and that wasn’t even adding in his older brother to the equation. He couldn’t think about him, or his sister in law. The sheer number of terrors they’d seen and lived through- and he’d been against Marinette moving to Gotham? Well, he still was, but at least he understood where she was coming from a little better now.

“Right? Oh, and then there was my first date.” She’s saying, and Clark tunes back in, quirking an eyebrow.

“Your first date?” He asks. Marinette nods, grinning sheepishly.

“It may or may not have been with an akumatized individual.” She says. Clark blinks at her.

“I- am at a loss for words.” He finally says. She snorts, shrugging.

“Yeah, that’s fair. We were already friends before that whole situation, and we’re still friends now so it’s not like it mattered that much.” Marinette says flippantly.

“So you dated a villain?” Conner asks, obviously trying to figure out what she was saying. Marinette’s expression darkens slightly, and she shakes her head.

“No. Akumatized people are almost never villains. They don’t, for the most part, choose to be akumatized. They’re victims, normal people whose bad day is taken advantage of.” She says, and her shoulders slump as she folds in on herself. “There are some akumas that I won’t talk about. I just- I can’t. They were…scary. And heart breaking. Just know, Hawkmoth started out targeting negative emotions that were surface level. Like being embarrassed from having a crush outed, or being sent to the principal’s office despite doing nothing wrong. But he’s evolved. Now, our akumas are much darker. A grieving mother, an abused child, someone who is ready for everything to just end.” Marinette pauses, swiping furiously at her tears before letting out a soft breath. “None of them are villains. The only villain is Hawkmoth.”

“Oh, Mars.” Conner says softly, immediately moving towards her to wrap her in a hug. Marinette immediately buries her face in his chest, crying softly as Conner holds her close. Clark’s heart breaks at the sight, and in that moment he makes a promise. Hawkmoth was going down. And soon.

Tag list: @maribat-calendar-events @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @queenz-z @deathssilentapproach-blog @literaryhiraeth @unoriginalmess @kking13 @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @buttercupsbitch @jayjayspixiepop @iloontjeboontje @idontwannaexistsopleasekillme

#supermari #supermari may #supermari may 2022 #platonic supermari #maribat #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat conner kent #maribat jon kent #maribat clark kent #maribat lois lane #platonic maribat #maribat found family #platonic relationships

82 notes · View notes

jugularbeat · 2 years

Text

Analyzing the new Deltarune previews

great nucking news we have been fed lately!!! As the title states, I’ll be analyzing the new previews and add some interesting information I’ve seen thrown around on the interwebs.

But first, some unknown music that I do not know the origin of: https://deltarune.com/assets/audio/results.mp3 , https://deltarune.com/assets/audio/baci_perugina2.ogg

Without further ado, let’s begin!

"After the dark night, the sun shines brightly."

This caption reminds me of Seam’s warning, which would fit in with the probably confirmed Chapter 3 dark world, since it was made during the night.

You don't want to get caught when the sun goes down...

As for the preview image, hoo boy is there a fuckton of interesting stuff. Just from Susie being in QC’s diner we can determine that, since Catti isn’t particularly fond of her, either she isn’t working today or perhaps they’re on better terms now likely because of Dark World shenanigans.

The NPCs here appear to be a froggit, Charles(most_improved_1997) with a now slightly longer hat, probably the lion waitress and possibly a version of this npc in the MTT resort with a different bow placement.

In the second image, though there aren’t as many characters or implications, we will got a neat bit of content. I’ve seen people speculate that this may be a minigame similar to Thundersnail in undertale, though I doubt Susie will light on fire if we encourage her too much. I’m still wondering why the rock looks like an onion. Another thing to note is the lack of rain which we later see in

this preview. The strangest thing here is the closed police station, that might have something to do with what will happen in the dark worlds. This (not new) monster is seen dancing in the rain, which I believe was foreshadowed in their sprite name (spr_npc_rainykid_0). Should we look at NPC names for future chapter predictions? Well, if we decide to do just that,

we’re going to have to confront the fact that this mole guy’s sprite name is ...

ANYWAYS, onto the dark world previews!

"This once empty town is beginning to feel like a city!"

‘Tis a nice callback to the beginning of Chapter 1, but the caption also slightly scares me. If Castle Town is indeed getting a lot bigger, I can’t imagine how much unique dialogue will have to be given to all of the NPCs...

Other than that, this is a pretty nice scene! Sweet and K_K (no Cap’n?) are performing along with Tasque Manager and a mysterious saxophone player. Their design appears to be obscured (but it would be kinda funny if it’s the real deal), but just from their silhouette we can see a few neat details. Their hat sort of resembles the doors from the Green Day preview, and they also look like Inspector Gadget. Also also, the deltarune symbol is on the drums. Koole.

(I can’t get the webm to work, sorry.) Queen is hilarious as always, Rouxls is pretending to be a lamp?, reminiscent of the lamp gag from undertale. The path to the right remains unexplored, something to look forward to in the full release!

https://deltarune.com/assets/images/update2022-dr-ch4-queen-v5.webm

And last, but certainly not least, is the only chapter 3 (based on the file name) preview.

"Relax and enjoy a world of cutting-edge entertainment!"

For some reason, I’m getting dystopia/utopia warning signs from this caption.

Ok, so a ‘green room’ is, according to Oxford Languages, “a room in a theatre or studio in which performers can relax when they are not performing.” This explains the vending machine, TVs, couches and silver platter in the middle. Still think the vending machine is a hint that there’s a big boss fight after this, like with snowgrave Spamton NEO. There are a lot of visible stars everywhere which is most likely based off Asriel’s side of the shared bedroom. Aditionally, the 2 couches appear to be inspired by the beds in that same room, the cut on the right couch could possibly be the dark world equivalent of the unidentified stain in Kris’ side of the room.

The left couch seems to have a similar look to The Sweater™ and has an L-shape(d hole). There’s also a thing with pairs of two here: 2 couches, 2 TVs, 2 large doors, 2 cacti. The doors actually appear to resemble a stylized M or perhaps a house. The wires at the ceiling might have something to do with Spamton NEO? I’ve seen that theory thrown around.

The storage(?) is particularly interesting; we obviously have swords on Kris’ (?) side, they could also be knives which would have some interesting implications for the dark world forms of light worlds objects. But what’s most interesting is that Asriel’s side has bottles of alcohol! (If you believe in the alcoholic Toriel theory, like mother like son, I suppose.) And a singular Maus which is probably the dark world equivalent of the actual computer mouse on his side of the room.

All in all, a pretty nice status update so we aren’t starving as much anymore. Scrumptious.

#deltarune #deltarune speculation #deltarune status update #deltarune spoilers

17 notes · View notes

radioduo · 3 years

Text

roses and riots: chapter 1

i could count the stars (wait until the dawn

notes: apoc au ^-^ this has been in the works for a while, so hope u guys enjoy! thanks to @b1rdza for the title and the letting me plan things w them :}

tws: blood, injury, violence, talks of death and zombies

Ranboo stared at his phone, slightly cracked and looking worse for wear, reminiscing over the photo on his lock screen. A picture from two months ago of him, Tubbo, and Tommy beaming at the camera. Ranboo returned the smile. Probably a picture Wilbur took on their moving day.

Two months ago, Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo began living together. Two months ago was the last time everything was normal.

Ranboo leaned against the wall of the now crumbling apartment and laid his head back against the foggy windows with a sigh. He could hear Tubbo in the other room quietly singing a cheerful tune and fiddling with some new gadget on his own. Tommy still wasn’t home from the scouting trip he had left for hours ago, and as the minutes ticked by, more and more anxiety gnawed at Ranboo's stomach.

Speak of the devil, Ranboo thought to himself as the communicator next to him began to buzz. It was Tommy, unsurprisingly. Ranboo gingerly set the phone down and picked up the other device. “Hello?”

“RANBOO, GET - krzzkr - HERE, THERE’S - skrzzkz - FUCKING HORDE HEADING OUR - krzzssz - HELP-”

Ranboo flinched and held the speaker away from his ear as he sprang to his feet. “Oh god, alright. Hold on, Tommy, I’m getting Tubbo and we’re going. Where are you?” He pulled on his boots and grabbed the musty red rucksack that hung next to the door.

“WEST- kzzszrt - NEAR THE DINER-”

“Just stay calm, Tommy, find a hiding place, you know the drill,” he knocked on Tubbo’s door urgently, but there was no response. "Are you k- whatever," Ranboo threw open the door, muttering to himself. Tubbo yelped in surprise as the door swung open, flinging his arm out and knocking his project onto the carpet. “We’ve gotta go,”

Tubbo took a deep breath and raised an eyebrow. “What’s up, bossman?”

Ranboo began to explain, but Tommy seemed eager to take matters into his own hands.

“TUBBO, THEY’RE FUCKIN’ AFTER - skrzztz - YOUR HELP RIGHT NOW, GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE - kryzztz - TO GOD I WON’T FORGIVE YOU IF I DIE,” he yelled through the radio. Tommy was breathing heavily, and Ranboo and Tubbo could hear quick, heavy footsteps pounding against the pavement.

“Oh fuck, okay, we’re coming, Tommy!” Tubbo grabbed his yellow bag from the foot of his mattress, abandoning his gadget and nearly knocking over his trash can full of failed prototypes. “Where is he?” he asked Ranboo, straining as he tugged his shoes over his heels.

“West Elm, near the diner,” Ranboo said as he pulled his mask over his face, leading Tubbo into the kitchen and grabbing his crowbar from the counter. “We’re on our way, just stay hidden and stay put.” Ranboo ended the transmission before Tommy could keep shouting at him and pulled open the door. “Let’s go, Tubbo,”

Tubbo hoisted his bat over his shoulder and tugged his goggles over his eyes. Wordlessly, the duo slunk out from the crumbling apartment building and down the street.

Nothing new, Ranboo noticed as the two speed-walked around the dilapidated city. Broken glass lined the pavement in front of shopping outlets, rotting wooden planks covered doors and windows, and the smell of flesh and blood filled the air around them, pungent and nauseating. The acrid scent slithered through the mask over Ranboo's nose and snaked into his nostrils, and he fought back the urge to heave as he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

Rapidly rounding a corner, Ranboo tore his eyes away from the city scenery, stifling a gasp of surprise as he and Tubbo found themselves face to face with a gathering of the undead.

With bulging eyes and mouths lined with yellowed, broken teeth, the pack shuffled down the debris-covered road in the opposite direction, still oblivious to Ranboo and Tubbo's appearance. They seemed too busy tracking something out of sight to pay attention to the smell of fresh, unspilled blood nearby. Unfortunately, Ranboo realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach, the thing they must have been searching for was Tommy, and to find him, he and Tubbo would have to make it through the horde of the starving dead.

Tubbo stared ahead at the mob, a sour expression painting his face. "Don't tell me-"

"We have to, Tubbo. Unless you want to leave Tommy to die over there."

"I'm gonna be honest bossman, that sounds pretty fuckin' appealing right now," Tubbo replied dryly.

"I really hope you're joking," Ranboo answered. "C'mon," he urged, gripping the crowbar in his gloved hands, and charged forward like a bull.

The zombies, luckily for Ranboo, moved slowly, giving him time to react between attacks. He swiped nimbly with his left hand, slamming the metal bar into the face of a corpse, taking its head off with a satisfying crunch. Ranboo heard a grunt next to his ear and rolled out of the way right as an undead creature swung at him, nearly grabbing his arm and pulling him back. He brought the crowbar down into the skull of his attacker and looked away as the creature made a strangled sound in the back of its throat. Bobbing and weaving through the sea of the undead, Ranboo slammed the crowbar into every shambling body he could reach, over and over again. He yelped as he suddenly felt something grab his arm, sending a wave of pain up his arm from the iron-like grip. He wrenched his hand away frantically and stabbed the crowbar into the zombie's eyes. Breathing heavily, he scrambled away from the horde and into the clear at last. Ranboo gripped his sore arm and anxiously looked over the sea of corpses. Tubbo hadn't come out of the mob yet, and Ranboo's stomach twisted with fear at the thought of something happening to him.

A loud smack came from somewhere inside the cluster of bodies, and at last, Tubbo appeared, waving his bloodstained baseball bat like a madman and shouting a string of curses at the undead hands grabbing at his clothes. He ran to Ranboo's side, gasping for air. "Don't ever fucking make me do that again, okay?"

Ranboo grinned, relieved that he seemed unharmed. "Alright, alright, whatever," he said, flicking a drop of blood from his face. "We have to keep moving or they'll catch up with us."

----------

Tubbo and Ranboo slid open the diner door silently, stepping over the upturned chairs and tables as they walked into the abandoned building. "Tommy?" Tubbo whispered. "Are you in here?"

"Tubbo?" A voice answered. A head of curly blond hair popped up from behind the counter, and an unmistakable look of relief swept over Tommy's face when he caught sight of the two. "Thank fuck," he muttered, breathing a sigh of relief and dragging himself to his feet, hauling his backpack with him. "I wasn't sure how much longer I'd last." Crawling out from behind the counter, Tommy pulled his green bandana down from over his mouth again and faced the duo. "How'd you get through that giant fuckin' mob back there?"

Ranboo and Tubbo held up their crowbar and bat, respectively. "We managed," Tubbo said with a shrug. "That's beside the point though, why have you been gone so long? You were supposed to be back, like, two hours ago!" The three inched towards the door as Tubbo talked, slipping back into the streets and booking it in the opposite direction they came from.

Tommy huffed, trying to keep up with his friends. "Other than those dickheads back there keeping me away, I stopped by Phil's place for a bit to get us some food," he explained through deep breaths. "We haven't been able to get out much, thought it'd help." He held up his lumpy bag, obviously full of cans and boxes.

"Tommy, you know carrying food long distances is dangerous," Ranboo huffed, pulling ahead of the group as they rounded a corner. "Those things can smell just about everything, what made you think that was even slightly a good idea?"

Tommy made an indignant scoffing noise in the back of his throat. "Well, ex-CUSE me, Boob Boy, for wanting to help out you and Tubbo. That's my bad," he said, placing unnecessary emphasis on the last two words.

Ranboo rolled his eyes with faux annoyance as the three of them kept walking. "How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?"

"Not enough clearly," Tubbo answered, amusement obvious in his tone.

"Oh my god-" A hand flew over his mouth as Tommy suddenly took a sharp turn and flattened him against the bricks of a rundown building. Ranboo bit back a pained grunt as his aching arm hit the bricks. "I can hear those fuckers nearby," he removed his palm from Ranboo's masked mouth, and the three of them pressed their backs against the crumbling wall. "Is there another way we can take?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes darting back and forth as he strained his ears to listen for the familiar groans of the undead. "There are only a few that won't take us, like, two hours," he whispered. "Most roads loop around the city, and-"

"-and there's no way in hell that we'd make it back alive if we travel in the dark," Tubbo finished bleakly. He stared at the ground, lost in thought as though he were hoping the answer would write itself on the sidewalk. "So what now? Just stay here and wait until the morning? Surely not," he looked up at the other two. "I mean, that's a death wish right there,"

Ranboo and Tommy nodded silently. "I guess there's always Phil's place, but that's a couple dozen blocks down the road," Ranboo suggested, glancing up at the sky. It was only marginally darker than when they'd left, but Ranboo knew the light wouldn't last for much longer - especially not with the luck they'd been having. He absently rubbed his sore arm, careful to keep something from hitting it again. "We'd have to leave now to be there before dark,"

"Don't tell me we have to fuckin' walk even more," Tommy griped loudly. "I just got back from his place, are you sure there isn't a faster way home?"

"We can leave you here with the horde, if that's what you prefer," Tubbo retorted. Slinging his yellow bag over one arm and hoisting his worn baseball bat over the other, he dashed down the street, calling to Tommy over his shoulder, "Hurry up, dickhead!"

"Tubbo, wait-!" Tommy shouted back as he and Ranboo followed suit, jogging down the sidewalk behind Tubbo to the safety of their friend's home.

It was nearly dark by the time the three came to the pale blue house. It sat on the city outskirts, barely safer than the houses on the inside but at least ten times cozier. Tommy rapped on the door raucously, and Ranboo and Tubbo cringed as the sound echoed, definitely alerting the nearby zombies to their presence.

They didn't have time to worry about that, thankfully, as Phil greeted them at the door, looking relieved. "You guys scared the shit out of me," he breathed as he ushered the three teens inside. "You can't just be out wandering and knocking on strangers' doors,"

"Phil, if you were a stranger, this would be very awkward right now," Ranboo said, kicking his boots off and shoving them in the corner.

"I'm- oh my god, you know what I mean," he replied exasperatedly. "Be careful out there, is all. I don't know what I'd do if you guys got hurt."

Silence fell over the group as they heard the subtext of Phil's words. 'If you guys got hurt again.' Ranboo peered over at Tubbo, whose hand had subconsciously drifted up to trace the burn scars that outlined his face. Ranboo's own hand had floated up to touch his bruised arm carefully. He wouldn't tell Phil about it. Not yet.

Coughing, Ranboo broke the silence as he drew his hand away from his injury and undid the clasp on his cloak. "Welp, uh, I'm gonna sit down if anyone else wants to come," he invited, plopping the heavy fabric in a pile with the rest of his things and wandering into the living room.

The fireplace was burning, and Wilbur laid next to the orange flames, half-lidded eyes staring sleepily at the ceiling. He blinked and sat up as Ranboo entered the room, still alone as Tubbo and Tommy followed Phil into the kitchen, discussing something Ranboo couldn't quite hear. "Hey, Rhombus," Wilbur smiled, holding back a yawn. "How goes it?" His eyes darted briefly to the yellow sweater Ranboo wore.

Ranboo shrugged, removing his mask and catching the brief smile that flickered across Wilbur's face. "Could be better, I suppose," he replied.

"I think you said that last time," Wilbur noted.

"Yeah, well, it's been hard to be great recently," Ranboo said, barely audible.

Wilbur nodded sagely nonetheless, shuffling away from the fire to sit on the carpet in front of the couch. "You're not wrong," he agreed. There was a moment of silence as Wilbur looked up at Ranboo, who sat stiffly on the sofa, clutching his arm lightly and staring blankly into the fire. "You all good?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Ranboo answered, blinking himself out of his stupor and brushing a strand of hair from his eyes. "Just- pain is all. Nothing a little sleep can't fix," he insisted. Ranboo could see the doubt in Wilbur's eyes, and it made his stomach churn. He wasn't sure why. "I'm alright, seriously," he repeated. "I'd let you know if I wasn't, you know that."

"Right." Disbelief laced Wilbur's words, but he didn't pry, nor did Ranboo want to offer an explanation.

Wilbur opened his mouth to say something else, but he didn't get the chance as Tubbo peeped his head into the room. "Dinner's ready big man, if you're interested," he said, jabbing a thumb behind him towards the kitchen, the comforting smell of potato soup wafting through the house. "You too, Wilbur, I guess," he snickered.

Ignoring the lighthearted banter between the other two, Ranboo inhaled deeply, savoring the scent. It smelt like home, he thought, a small smile painting his face. Wordlessly, Ranboo padded through the doorway into the kitchen, where Techno, Tommy, and Phil sat around the table waiting.

"There you are," Techno greeted him, reaching for the soup spoon. "We were starvin' to death in here, c'mon man," he joked.

Ranboo huffed a laugh through his nose. "Sorry about that," he apologized, running a hand through his hair. "Been a long day." He caught Tubbo's eye, who agreed with a slight head nod.

"It's alright, mate," Phil assured him. He held the bowls as Techno ladled soup into them carefully. "We get it." Phil handed him a bowl, steaming and cozy, and Ranboo gratefully accepted. "Just hang out for a while, alright?"

The six of them sat around the small kitchen table, eating together and listening to the radio as songs old and new alike filled the air. Tubbo and Wilbur sang duets, and Techno and Tommy made increasingly strange parodies as Phil and Ranboo watched with amusement.

Tommy and Techno were mid-song about Phil when the music suddenly stopped, harsh static cutting through the joyful atmosphere like a knife.

"WE INTERRUPT YOUR PROGRAM FOR AN EMERGENCY ANNOUNCEMENT," the prerecorded sample recited. "ATTENTION, ALL CITIZENS OF NEW LENSLING COUNTY: A MANDATORY EVACUATION IS BEGINNING TOMORROW AT 11 AM. ALL PERSONS LIVING IN THE CITY MUST RELOCATE BEFORE THE END OF THE WEEK."

The once bright mood at the dinner table quickly sank, dread and icy cold fear replacing the warm feeling of family and safety.

"What the fuck?" Tommy murmured, turning the radio volume up to the max.

"COUNTY OFFICIALS WILL BE INSPECTING HOMES TO ENSURE THAT EVERYONE HAS EVACUATED. SAFE CITIES ARE AS FOLLOWS: ATTSTONE, WORWICKE, LANGSTEDSHIRE, SHANTOWSEA, AND SOUTH BIRBED. FURTHER QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED AT-"

Wilbur turned off the radio with a harsh slam. "Great," he growled. "What the fuck do we do now? Surely they don't expect us to just be happy with this!"

"All our shit is still at home!" Tubbo added, agitated. "There's no way we have time to grab it tonight, and it'll take ages to get back to the apartment in the morning!" He grumbled. "This is bullshit!"

"Calm down, you two," Phil cut in, trying to curb the anger bubbling in the air. "We'll figure something out, okay?"

Tubbo and Wilbur had the same disgruntled look in their eyes, jaws set and eyes shadowed. "Fine," Tubbo muttered, standing up to look at Phil. "Tell us then, what's the plan? Do you even know what's going to happen to us?"

"Tubbo," Ranboo warned. "Calm down. We're all figuring it out as a group."

Tubbo folded his arms and sat heavily in his chair, still irritated.

Techno was already rifling through his things for a map of the county. "The safe zones were all cities nearby," he said, seemingly to himself. He rolled a thin map out over the table, careful to avoid the drops of soup. "Attstone, Worwicke, et cetera. The closest one to us would be-"

"South Birbed, innit?" Tommy finished, shoving his now-empty soup bowl out of the way to lean over the table. "It's 'bout a week-long trip on foot," he explained. "We could be there in no time if all of us leave first thing in the morning,"

"Hold on, Tommy," Techno stopped him as Tommy took a breath to say something else. "One of us needs to stay behind and let someone know where we're goin', right Phil?"

"They need to send a message to all the safe zones to tell 'em how many people to prepare for," Phil confirmed. "I'll stay behind, tell whoever may stop by that the six of us are heading south, yeah?"

Ranboo and the other four shared a look of hesitance, none of them quite sure how to respond. "I don't want to leave you behind, Phil," Ranboo admitted. "Are you 100 percent sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Phil waved a hand dismissively. "You don't have to worry about me, mate. I'll catch up with you all in no time."

Phil's promise sent a wave of relief around the room. Wilbur and Tubbo looked more at ease, and Ranboo, Techno, and Tommy all breathed a sigh. "We should probably pack up our shit, I guess." Tommy rose to his feet, stretching and yawning. "Early start tomorrow, aye?"

They all stood, some more hesitant than others, and dispersed to their respective sleeping quarters. Tommy, Tubbo, and Ranboo trekked upstairs single file, carrying their bags, weapons, and everything in between into the large bedroom silently. It wasn't like they hadn't done this same thing before, but something about knowing it might be the last time for a while made the mood feel more somber than usual.

Tommy flopped onto the large, pillowy mattress with a sigh. "I can't believe we're being fuckin' kicked out," he muttered crossly, a change in mood from the upbeat leader persona he'd put on downstairs (probably to prove himself to the adults). "And to South Birbed of all places!"

Ranboo snorted, his eyes crinkling up with laughter. "What did South Birbed ever do to you?" He asked, watching as Tubbo crawled onto the bed next to Tommy.

"I dunno, it just seems like a shit city," Tommy shrugged.

Tubbo smacked him with a pillow, and Tommy yelped in protest, shouting a string of curse words at his assailer. "Mercy, mercy!" Tommy begged as he and Tubbo began a pillow fight.

Ranboo looked on with mild intrigue but didn't join the party. Instead, he slipped away from the other two into the bathroom and shut the door.

He pried his gloves off his hands and rinsed his face, desperate to clean the dirt and grime from his forehead and fingers. Ranboo stared at himself in the mirror, watching beads of water run down his face. He looked like a mess, he thought briefly, before drying the water with a towel. He winced, feeling a shock of pain flow up his arm as he blotted the water with the scratchy cloth. Deftly, he rolled up his sweater sleeve to examine his arm.

A little bit of broken skin, Ranboo noticed. He caught sight of a few small indents, which he assumed were from fingernails digging into his arm when the zombie had grabbed him. He made a mental note to keep checking the wound before it got infected and rolled his sleeve down again.

With a newly clear head, he reentered the bedroom quietly. Tommy and Tubbo had already claimed the bed, he noted, as the two laid on either half of the mattress, Tommy's head and Tubbo's feet on one end and the other way around at the foot of the bed. Ranboo sighed as he realized he'd have to sleep on the floor. Swiftly, he snagged a pillow from the bed, careful not to wake the already-snoring Tubbo, and dragged a throw blanket from a basket to sleep beneath. Begrudgingly, he laid on his makeshift bed, staring at the ceiling.

He had never noticed it before, but shining overhead was a galaxy of artificial stars, blinking and twinkling. The question of "why" briefly crossed Ranboo's mind as he stared at the bright little shapes above him. It made sense, he supposed, since the room belonged to Wilbur years before he, Tommy, or Tubbo ever stayed there. Still, he thought, it was surprising that Phil had kept them up there after all this time. Maybe he wanted to keep a little piece of the good times with him.

Ranboo felt a pit form in his stomach as he thought about the future (or possible lack thereof). The uncertainty made his stomach churn as he yawned, eyelids drooping. Thoughts of traveling and an image of the artificial galaxy were fresh in his mind as he rolled over that night, shutting his eyes and letting the darkness of sleep wash over him at last.

#ranboo #tubbo #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot #technoblade #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #blood tw #injury tw #violence tw #zombies cw #my writing

160 notes · View notes

roscgcld · 3 years

Text

GOJOTWINS!AU || greatest gift

request: I have a request for the twin-sided-with-Geto AU if you're up for it (as angsty or as fluffy as you like)? As a last request, Y/N twin asks Satoru to look after his niece/nephew. A child that looks just like Geto but with his sister's eyes.

note: hmmm....I was more concerned between if I want to make it angsty or make it fluffy, since this idea was definitely interesting for me to explore. However! This definitely gave me some creative juices! The entire ‘jjk men as parents’ trope is honestly so cute >< I wish Gege showed more scenes of Geto with his two ‘daughters’ - domestic!Geto sounds so fucking hot 😣😣 but writing this also makes me want to write something like ‘the adventures of uncle gojo and his niece’

warning: spoilers for anime-only fans! proceed with caution

pronouns: she/her

gojotwins!au masterlist

“You need to finish your veggies, Rei-chan. You know the rules.”

The young girl that sat before Gojo pouts softly, crossing her tiny arms over her chest as she turns her puppy eyes up at the older man. Gojo looks down at the pouting girl, his own oceanic blue eyes were shining behind the darkly tinted sunglasses as the young girl - Rei, as she was named - tried to use her puppy eyes to get out form eating all the ‘tiny trees’ that sat on her bear themed child plate.

From the outside you would assume that Gojo was probably just babysitting the toddler; the man is wearing an odd uniform in Japanese norms, but it is still certain that he is in school. And from the looks of things, he is definitely a young adult - no older than a college student, despite how good looking he was. And they were right to some extend; the young girl, besides the eyes, does not look like Gojo Satoru at all.

But Gojo and Rei definitely shared a unique relationship than your average ‘babysitter and child’ one. “Come on, bunny - you gotta eat all the greens if you wanna grow big and strong like your daddy.”

At the mention of her father, Rei perked up immediately; yet immediately deflated at the sight of the broccoli that was held out to her by Gojo once more. Rei lets out a soft whine and a huff, yet she reluctantly leaned forward before she ate the broccoli; making a face at the taste of it on her tongue. “Not a fan, huh?”

“The tiny tree taste bad..,” Rei mumbles quietly as she finishes chewing her mouthful of broccoli, pulling another face that has Gojo chuckling quietly as he grabbed a napkin from the napkin dispenser to clean Rei’s chubby cheeks. “I know they do, bunny. But you gotta eat them to make sure you grow strong, right? You wanna be a sorcerer like me one day, don’t you?”

Geto Rei was not your average child; born with Gojo blood flowing through her veins, she is the ‘love child’ of Gojo Y/N and Geto Suguru; Gojo Satoru’s twin sister and her boyfriend. When Geto first went ‘rogue’ and kill the village he was sent to, Y/N had found out that she was pregnant with his child. She was sure it was his, since Y/N and him have been dating for about a year up to this point. There was no denying who the father was. And that terrified her; she was worried that the elders will do something bad to the child that was growing inside of her.

Even if she is one of the strongest sorcerers of the century, she is still a woman first - and women who are to have kids outside of marriage, and with someone who isn’t approved by the elders of the clan, are just asking for trouble. And whilst she was sure she can take on whatever the elders will put her through, the thought of her unborn child having to deal with the leftover anger from her parents’ actions, to be brought up in a world where others would shun the little bean, was too much to bear.

So, even with Gojo’s pleas for her to stay, Y/N had packed up and left without a trace for others to find her. Yet Gojo was certain she had upped and left so she can spend her ‘future’ with her boyfriend, even if she knows that their love story will only end in tragedy. So you couldn’t believe Gojo’s shock when he opened the door of his apartment one random night, having been roused from his slumber in the early mornings; only to find a baby sleeping peacefully in blankets placed at his doorstep.

Pinned to the front of the baby’s blanket was a simple letter addressed to him, and immediately Gojo knew what the content of it was. There was no denying who the young baby, who Gojo found out was a baby girl, was either. Because in the morning, when the little youngster finally opened her eyes, were a pair of his very own Six Eyes staring up at him curiously as a thick and fluffy head of black hair surrounding her.

“Dear God...wait until ma and pa find out about this...”

That is how Gojo found himself today; third year college student quietly coaxing the young toddler to eat her veggies as they waited at a café for another two kids he had ‘adopted’ to get off from preschool. He was honestly questioning everything he is doing with his life right now. “Since you’ve been a good girl...maybe later, when ‘Gumi-nee and ‘Miki-nii come over, we order some ice cream~”

Just the mention of the frozen treat had the little girl perking up in excitement, causing Gojo to laugh as he gently rests a hand on her head; already being able to sense the waves of excitement that is coming from Rei. “But in exchange, you have to finish your veggies,” Gojo continues as he gestures towards the child plate before Rei; which held a few pieces of veggies from the small salad that came with her meal.

So that was how the Fushiguros found the two in the café, having grabbed some lunch whilst they waited for the two to get off from school. Rei, who looked over when the café doors were pushed open, perked up at the sight of the familiar duo walking towards them. Gojo just grinned and picked her out of her babychair before he sets her down on the ground, watching in amusement as Rei ran towards Megumi and Tsumiki on her chubby little feet.

Megumi, who was her target today, paused before he bends down to catch her as she stumbled into him; scowling over at the smirking Gojo who was still seated at the table. “Don’t worry Megumi-kun. I was 100% sure that you were going to catch her~,” Gojo called back teasingly, his grin only widening at Megumi’s annoyance as the young shikigami user made his way towards the table where Gojo was seated at once more. “Turn that frown upside down, Megumi-kun - try to be like Tsumiki-chan more, she’s super cute.”

Megumi just rolled his eyes as he settles down in a free seat, letting Rei cuddle up into the younger male whilst Tsumiki giggles at Gojo; who had reached over to playfully tug at her cheek. Soon though Gojo gestures for the two kids to order what they want for lunch before they go home; a habit of theirs now since Gojo cannot for the life of him cook.

The one time he tried cooking...well...lets just say the kids have since begged for him to never attempt cooking ever again.

Hence why, after a brief lunch and a brief visit to the grocery store, the four of them made their way back towards Gojo’s home. He had long since moved out from the apartment that he rented in the beginning, understanding how important it is for Megumi and Tsumiki to have their own private spaces to retire to after a long they. Because after all that they’ve been through and are going to be going through in the future as people touched by the jujutsu world, they are still growing kids first. So Gojo had invested in a nice home close that is close to the college, yet not too far away from the city where the kids might feel cut off from their friends on the outside.

“Alright, time to get you into the shower,” Gojo grins at a giggling Rei, who he had set in her baby seat as he puts away the groceries; Tsumiki had offered to make some katsudon for everyone for dinner tonight. Hence the brief stop at the grocery store. Since it was still little early into the afternoon, the two Fushiguro children retired in their rooms to unwind and catch up with homework before preparing for diner. So for now, Gojo and Rei were alone once more. “Gotta make sure you’re cleaned up before your nap~”

Rei just giggles and smiles over at the older man, reaching her arms up so the man can carefully picked her up as he made his way towards his bedroom. It was a normal routine for him to give Rei a shower after coming home from the outside, worried that she was going to be carrying dirt and germs into her bed before she is laid down for her nap. So Gojo carefully filled the baby tub he set out inside his shower stall before he carefully filled it with warm water and bubbles; making sure the water was warm enough before he carefully strips Rei and sets her in the warm bath.

Many people have questioned him before as to why he was taking care of her like she was his own child. Even though she is her niece, her parents are Curse Users; they defected from the jujutsu world in order to live in a life of crime. Or more so Y/N leaving behind her family and friends for something as feeble as her ‘love’ for Geto Suguru. Many people call her delusional, stupid, naïve - no one can picture just what was it that made her choose between the life on the run with Geto, for the luxurious life that the Gojo estate has, and still would, provide to her. Even after Rei was born.

However, to Gojo, he just knew she saw it differently.

If there was one person who he can rely on completely, without having to fear of judgement, it was definitely Y/N. She was his twin sister, someone who ‘cursed’ with the same power as he was, and knows all the struggles and stress that comes with being ‘the strongest’. When she had found out she was pregnant, she was terrified - running into his room in the middle of the night with the positive pregnancy test in hand. She was scared shitless with the entire idea that she was going to be a teen mum alone.

And no matter how much Gojo had tried to reassure her that if Geto was here, he would be ecstatic with the idea that he was going to be a father, Y/N was inconsolable. She was terrified at the idea that not only would the baby will not have a father, they might even have to suffer through the stigma of having a parent that was a murderer in their world. Y/N was also going through it as well; it was clear as day that Geto was the last thing that was truly keeping Y/N sane. Although Gojo and her had a special bond, it was like Geto was that extra support that made sure both of the Gojo siblings were still staying strong.

Maybe it was the stress of the idea that she was going to be called out by the elders of the clan, or her parents might be disappointed in her, or maybe the idea that she was going to be a teen parent itself officially cracked her. Gojo, to this day, isn’t 100% sure as to why Y/N chose to do what she did; chose to stay with Geto even though she knows that it will bring more stigma onto her daughter after she was born.

At one point even Gojo had admitted to himself that she was naïve and selfish for choosing what she did instead of facing the brief music that will come from the adults in her life.

But as he playfully makes animal noises at a giggling Rei, Gojo hopes that Y/N rest easy knowing how many people loves Rei. How Shoko, Mei Mei, and even Utahime had essentially dubbed themselves as Rei’s godmothers and spoil her even more than he does; and that is saying a lot. Sure, the elders were not as welcoming to Rei, even more so because she was not carry the Gojo name on top of the fact that her parents were not married when they had her, were definitely not helping her case.

However, Rei was special. She was born her with her mother and uncle’s Six Eyes; and it was because of this that the elders have yet to officially cut Rei off from her surviving biological family.

Whilst he was thinking back about everything, Gojo’s body went on autopilot as he bathe, dried, and dressed Rei like usual. He kept her occupied to the best of his abilities, but from the trip they had earlier today plus the grocery store trip, Rei was already nodding off when Gojo was blow drying her soft black hair. This caused him to smile as he carefully gathered the little girl in his arms, letting her curl up against his chest as he made his way towards his messy study desk.

Even if he is a sorcerer and taking care of 3 young kids, he still needs to do mundane things like homework before he can fully graduate from Jujutsu Tech. And as much as he wants to just cuddle Rei and sleep as well - he’s been putting off this essay for about 3 days now. And its due date is tomorrow; so he has to get cracking on this essay if he wants to be eligible for the final exam this year.

“I wish I can live as carefree as you do, Rei-chan,” Gojo mumbles quietly to the young girl in his arms, glancing down at her sleeping features as she rests her ear above his heart. It was quite jarring honestly, since the little girl looked like one of his best friends, Geto Suguru. A man who he sometimes wish late into the night that he had made a better effort into reaching out to when they are at their lowest.

Gojo knew that the death of Riko had effected all of them in their own ways; and although Gojo had asked Geto a few times if he was alright, he just wished he tried harder. Maybe if he wasn’t so full of himself, that he tried to spot more of the chances in Geto’s behaviour - just maybe, he might still be here right now. He would be the one who witnessed Rei saying her first words (it was ‘dog’ because of Megumi’s Divine Dogs that he lets out at home), to her standing up on her own for the first time, to her first steps.

Gojo felt guilty for being the one to witness all of her firsts when her parents should be the one to do that.

“I hope you know just how much your parents love you, bunny,” Gojo mumbles quietly to the sleeping toddler in his arms as he cuddles her closer, his somber eyes watching her tiny back as it rose and fell with each one of her deep breaths. “I know you don’t really understand things now, but I hope you do not grow up resenting your parents for giving you away before you even have a chance to know them. Your mother is a brave woman; she knew what she had to do in order to ensure that you’d get to live a fair and comfortable life.”

Only silence greeted Gojo after his soft admission, yet all that did was make Gojo let out a brief chuckle through his nose. “She may call me a dumbass, but she trusted me enough to know that there was no way I am going to let you fend for yourself in this cruel world,” He hums as he reaches up to stroke her chubby cheek ever so slightly, a soft and fond smile tugging against the corner of his lips at how Rei just cuddled closer to him in her sleep.

“Because at the end of the day, you’re the greatest gift that has ever been gifted to all of us.”

290 notes · View notes

wtf-yoongi · 4 years

Text

Let me drive. / JJK

pairing | jungkook x reader

summary | road trip + california + your koo 🥺

genre/warnings | fluff + light smut + established relationship + kinda shy/quiet jungkook

words | 3,522

note | okay so i had this idea almost a year ago and wrote around 5 versions of this since then lol i guess the stuff i write is *already* very chill but i have to say this is the chillest

If you could, you’d freeze this moment. This very moment. Right here, right now. Just as the wind blows on your hair, just as everything around you smells like sand and the sea, just as Jungkook’s smooth driving lulls you to sleep.

You look at him then. Focused on the curves of the road, a small crease in between his eyebrows as he is forced to make a particularly sharp turn. You twist again to look outside the half-opened window and all you can see are the waves coming and going, somehow closer when the car shifts — and it calms you even further.

It’s hard to fight the heaviness of your eyelids, but you’re determined not to miss any second of this. Everything looks perfect, all around you — you can’t take it for granted. You should cherish it, imprint this in your memory, take pictures with Jungkook’s camera now that he’s busy driving and can’t do it himself. It’s within arm’s reach, but you can’t find it in you to grab it.

“You should take a nap,” Jungkook says with an unusual air in his voice. It is deep, but dreamy, and you wonder if you’ve actually fallen asleep. His right hand leaves the steering wheel to lightly touch your thigh. “You didn’t have enough sleep last night.”

“You’ve had just as much as me,” you protest, turning your body to seat properly again and blinking a few times to wake up, eyes opening as wide as possible in between each of them. “Do you think we can stop for a coffee somewhere? I bet you need it too.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s what you always say.”

You end up convincing Jungkook you should stop somewhere, even if that somewhere is the nearest underwhelming gas station. He takes the opportunity to fill up the tank, later going inside to join you and look for the most appetizing caffeinated drink. It’s not his favorite, and neither is the one in your hands, but it’ll do for now. You take the can out of his long fingers to pay before he has a chance to protest.

“How far away are we now?”

Jungkook’s head tilts as he follows you outside, eyes wrinkling while his brain tries to remember what the GPS said before. “Not much, really. Maybe a little bit over half an hour.”

“Let me drive, then.”

He throws you the keys without thinking twice, but mostly because you know Jungkook wants to take pictures of the road — he’s never been good at hiding things and, with you in particular, there’s no point in trying anymore. He’s been driving since you left this morning and you wonder if you should’ve taken over after Pismo Beach.

Maybe you should have. He looks perfectly content as he sits on the passenger’s side and reaches for the camera not a heartbeat after putting on his seatbelt. That’s when you know you should’ve said something earlier — he’s not going to ask you to drive if he can keep going. It’s the way Jungkook’s mind works: selfless all the time.

That thought melts as soon as you look to your right and he’s pointing the camera at you, bright smile only partially covered by the device in his hands as you hear the shutter. For a second, all you can see is him. Suddenly, all you care about in the world is how you can make that smile last longer.

Is it too greedy to want it forever?

The rest of the way to Santa Barbara goes as smoothly as possible. Jungkook is right — it does take a little bit over half an hour to get there and you’re glad it’s early enough for you to explore the city tonight. As you cross what seems to be the main road, filled with life, shops and pretty lights, you and Jungkook make a silent agreement to come back as soon as you drop the bags in the house you’re staying in.

To be honest, Jungkook was excessive when he chose the place. He said he wanted it to be close to the beach, with a pool he could swim in at two in the morning if he wanted to — oh, yes, and private. He repeated that at least three times while you were researching. In the end, the house isn’t as close to the beach as he wished it to be, but he agreed the pool was worth it.

When you land your eyes on it for the first time, you’re sure Jungkook made the right call.

There’s a host there to welcome you and you follow Mrs. Johnson around as she shows you all the little corners of the house. She is surprised to know only two guests are staying when the house could easily fit six, but nods with a warm smile when you mention the pool situation and the way Jungkook’s eyes lighted up when he saw the pictures. You also can’t miss the way he tries to hide himself behind you when you say that or the hand that travels down to your waist. You couldn’t see him, but you bet a thousand dollars a shy smile is in full display — dimples and all.

It only takes a few minutes for you to drag your bags inside, drink a cup of water and leave again. The house isn’t very far from the main road you’ve seen earlier and a walk after a few hours of sitting inside a car sounded like a great idea. Just before leaving, you playfully pull Jungkook’s bucket hat further down as he sits his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Then, again, you wish you could freeze the moment, but only if you could attach an audio file with his giggle and that playful stop it with it.

There’s a comfortable warmth from all around you as you walk. The breeze is hot and, although the temperature is bearable, Jungkook’s hand in yours becomes clammy in under five minutes — not that it is enough reason to let it go, it’s just not the most comfortable and definitely not as pleasant as the feeling of his hands intertwined with yours midwinter.

You can tell Jungkook is excited. His feet are light on the scolding asphalt and he’s paying extra attention to every detail his doe-like eyes are able to reach — almost as if he’s also looking to imprint this moment in his brain. In fact, he could be getting help with that by taking pictures, but decides to leave the camera hanging by its strap on his waist for reasons you don’t quite understand. You also don’t ask, too happy to raise questions about anything.

There’s something about this city that makes you feel welcomed. It’s much like the charming towns you’ve visited along the coast ever since leaving the busy San Francisco a couple of days ago, but there’s something particularly special about it. You were expecting it to be filled with tourists enjoying their summer day, streets buzzing with cars and no available parking spots whatsoever only to be met by a steady rhythm of people walking, chatting and passing you by without a second glance. It’s less busy and more easygoing than you anticipated.

Jungkook also seems to notice that.

“I like it here,” he says, echoing your thoughts with ease. Jungkook’s head turns all around, taking it all in before landing his curious eyes on you. “I think this one is my favorite so far.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your nose. “You’ve said that for every place we’ve been to.”

“Well, every place has been better than the last. What do you want me to say?”

Just as the words leave his lips, the elegant lamps lining the sidewalk come to life. You notice you’re not the only ones with chins up and surprised eyes — suddenly, you can point to every tourist standing within this block as locals move on with their lives as if nothing happened.

“Honestly, how can this not be my favorite so far?” Jungkook asks rhetorically, finally letting go of your hand to reach for his camera. He turns it on without even looking at the device, snapping picture after picture until he’s satisfied with the framing and lighting. “These lights are so pretty…” He comments as he checks his viewfinder. “Let me take one of you just standing there.”

He takes a few steps back to fit you in frame and you hear the shutter many times before he’s back by your side.

“Why don’t we get something to eat?” He suggests, quick to take your hand again as soon as the camera is back to its original place.

“That’d be nice. Craving anything in particular?”

“Food,” he answers simply and with a smile. “Anything you want.”

You end up inside a diner eight minutes from where you were. The reviews online were great and you can see the place is popular by the amount of people sitting when it’s still so early in the night. The sun hasn’t completely set, but you can already feel the temperature drop a little — not too much, you think, to forgo the pool later.

Jungkook eats like he’s been starving the whole day. One entrée isn’t enough for him, so he orders two and you feel like you should save some room for the burger coming in later. His fingers are greasy from all the fried chicken, so are his lips, and you can’t help but smiling fondly at him when he looks up from the bone he just sucked on.

Right then, you wonder how in the world you ended up with him on the other side of the planet — the odds were never in your favor, but everything worked out somehow.

Ending up on the other side of the planet was the easy part.

The walk back to the house seems longer. Maybe it’s the weight of all the food in your stomach, maybe you’re finally feeling the need to rest after another busy day driving and seeing new places — maybe it’s both. Jungkook seems to feel it too, lazily swaying your connected (thoroughly cleaned) hands, dragging his feet and showing signs of running low on energy. For a moment, you think it’s possible he forgets about the pool and decides to just go to bed.

However tired, his eyes light up when he sees the pool area like it’s the first time and you have to admit it looks incredible. The water is so still it doesn’t look real and small decorative lamps illuminate it all around, creating a peaceful and inviting atmosphere. You can see how spent Jungkook is by the way his shoulders seem to be leaning forward a bit, but, still, he’s taking off his shirt and mumbling something about changing into a different pair of shorts.

Maybe he’s right. A quick dip in the water might just be the thing to relax your body and prepare it for the best sleep of your life.

Jungkook is already in the water when you come back in a bikini — with his back pressed to the pool, head resting on the edge and hair a wet mess. His eyes may be barely open, but he still sees you and raises a lazy hand out of the water to invite you in.

“It’s surprisingly not cold,” he assures you, a comforting smile on his lips. “Also, it’s not as deep, I’m just not really standing properly.”

A giggle leaves your lips as you move to sit on the edge right next to where he is, carefully letting a foot in to surprisingly — as Jungkook said — not immediately remove it because it’s too cold. You just wanted to sit there for a while getting used to the temperature before committing to a full dip, but he’s not having it.

“Come on,” Jungkook whines a little, clinging onto one of your legs. “We don’t have much time before I fall asleep in the water and drown.” He snorts and you can’t help falling for his shy smile. “I want to hold you in the water while we look at the stars together.”

“We can do that tomorrow if you want,” you suggest, trying not to let his words melt you completely while you move to fix a wet strand of hair in front of his eyes. “We’re staying here for one more night.”

However, in true Jungkook fashion, he doesn’t give up. “But I want it right now.”

And, in true you fashion, you give in to him.

The next morning, you wake up with a heavy and warm arm on top of your frame. The heat from Jungkook’s body on your back becomes too much as the hours pass and the room gets hit by an increasingly hotter sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your brain can’t get your limbs to move away from him without regaining consciousness.

It’s past 9 in the morning by the time you stretch an arm towards your phone. Groaning, you try reaching out for the air conditioner remote, but it’s maybe an inch too far. Before you can wiggle out of his grasp, though, you hear a low objection, grunt muffled by your own hair and skin.

Softly, you mutter a few words. “Just a second, Guk, I really need to get that.”

Subconsciously or not, Jungkook eases the grip he has around your middle and you’re finally able to hold the remote in your hands, lowering the temperature and increasing the speed. After the few beeps, a minute passes and you’re taking a deep breath, happy to feel the cool air around your limbs.

“You’re shivering now,” he says, surprising you after a long and comfortable silence. Blindly, he feels around for the white sheets, fixing them on your torso all the way to your chin.

“I’m not shivering,” you assure him, uncovering an arm in a stubborn act. “I have a t-shirt on, it’s fine.”

He hums. “I’ll have you out of that in around thirty minutes. Don’t count on it too much.”

You smile, turning to him, but Jungkook still has his eyes closed. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I told you: thirty minutes. Don’t rush, we’re on vacation,” he justifies himself, words lazy just like the smirk that appears on his lips. “Let me wake up properly.”

True to his words, you both rest for a little while before Jungkook starts making his move. You would’ve guessed he had fallen back to sleep from how steadily he was breathing just a few seconds ago, but you couldn’t have been more wrong — not when his lips are connected to the column of your throat and you begin to feel the weight of his body on your left side.

Suddenly, your whole world is surrounded by him. All you can feel, see and smell is made of Jungkook, from his hair tickling your face to the firm hand wandering around like it’s discovering your body for the first time. You sigh and moan a little when he marks you particularly hard or when his right hand moves to place your leg around his waist and you just know he’s satisfied. Jungkook lives for that, for knowing he does that to you.

There’s a light and soft laugh coming out of his lips before he turns to the other side of your neck, head stopping midway to plant a chaste and quiet kiss on your lips.

“Promise me we’ll stay inside the whole day.” He’s just slightly out of breath, a feat that doesn’t go unnoticed by you — not after he’s taken care of your left side like that. He’s always so dedicated. “I really don’t want to get out of the house.”

“If you don’t want to.” The words would be perfectly accompanied by a shrug, but his body weight doesn’t let you. It’s just the right amount of pressure to feel him everywhere and, if you paid enough attention, you’d be able to sense his quick heartbeats too. “Yeah, we can stay in.”

“Good.”

You can see his eyes sparkle before he’s too close to focus, head dipping in to take your lips again. This time, however, the kiss is far from pure, delicately but firmly moving to open up your mouth and work restlessly until you’re completely out of breath.

You don’t know exactly when he starts slowly motioning his hips forward, senses overloaded with him everywhere, but you can feel your whole body respond to it. When you sigh yet again and his name comes out in a whimper, hand gripping his neck like your life depends on it, he knows.

“Let’s get you out of this,” he suggests, now a little bit past slightly out of breath as he proceeds to lift the t-shirt up and up until it’s free and thrown somewhere.

You couldn’t check the time then, but, if you could, you’d notice exactly thirty one minutes have passed.

“Have you even applied any sunscreen?” You call out from the inside of the house, holding a simple and delicious cup of cold water in your hands.

When you’re thirsty, everything will taste incredible.

“No!” He simply answers, ridding his hair of the excess water. “I’m only staying for twenty minutes while you shower, no need for sunscreen.”

“Yes need for sunscreen,” you disagree, sipping your water one last time before rummaging through your bag in search of the light blue bottle.

You immediately feel it in your skin as soon as you’re not covered by the roof of the house anymore. It is, after all, almost lunch time and the sun is at its peak — beautiful, majestic and burning hot. It only takes a few steps for you to reach the border of the pool and Jungkook gets the message, slowly walking towards you in the water.

“Dry your face and shoulders, please,” you demand at once, throwing him a small towel that was hanging around one of the lounge chairs. Luckily, he’s quick enough to catch it before it falls into the pool.

Still, Jungkook complains quietly. “It’s just twenty minutes, it’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal until your cheeks are completely red,” you argue, squeezing a bit of the product on your fingers and soon applying it to his forehead and down his blushed nose. “Look, it’s already rosy from the walk we took. You should’ve asked for the sunscreen earlier.”

“Okay, okay,” he begrudgingly agrees just as he closes his eyes, your hands running close to the eyebrows. “You know what? We should’ve booked this place for one more day.”

“You think so?” You ask, finally bringing your hands back and closing the lid of the sunscreen bottle. “Don’t dip your head in the water for at least a few minutes, please,” you warn.

“Yeah. I mean, we’ve been to LA before, we know how it is. I think I like it here more,” Jungkook explains, swimming backwards towards the middle of the pool. “We’re staying in a hotel for two days before going back home. A hotel doesn’t have this.”

“The hotel has a pool.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes playfully. “You know what I mean. We can’t have this in a hotel.”

“We can just rest for two days,” you suggest. “Wake up and eat and nap and eat and…”

He laughs and twirls in the water. “I hate to interrupt you, but we’ll be late for checkout if you don’t go shower.”

“Right.”

There’s something about being on the road with him that brings you nothing but peace. It must be the perfect combination of clear skies, warm winds, the comfortable silence and the freedom of being on the road. Even with a destination in mind, it doesn’t feel like you need to follow it through. You can go anywhere, do anything, stop the car in the middle of nowhere and stare at the sea for an hour if you want to.

It almost makes you feel nostalgic for something that is happening right now.

The road gets busier and busier the closer you get to the city. Around here, you can see the mansions up in the hills, the exclusive restaurants here and there, and the fancy cars accelerating past the maximum speed displayed on the road signs of Malibu. Still, when you slowly press the brakes to stop on a red light, it feels like you’re in your own little world.

It’s always like this. He’s there and, suddenly, it hits. Everything around you melts, there’s nothing else. Sometimes, when Jungkook’s in the room, it almost looks like he shines — to you, there’s a bright, golden aura surrounding him. It’s warm, inviting and irresistible.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything when he sees the corners of your lips tug up without a reason, deciding to just mirror them. Once again, you find yourself wishing you could freeze this moment — this very moment. Just as his smile reaches his sparkling eyes and an airy laugh escapes his lips.

“Baby, the lights have just turned green.”