Tumgik
#when she yells at him in public during the dinner scene but then she goes so quiet after the guests leave
cocosstories · 3 years
Text
Chris Evans One Shot
I hope you're having a great day today! Can I request a Chris Evans one shot? Reader is a younger actress, they're good friends, into each other, fans maybe ships them. One time she sleeps over, you can decide if anything happens, she sleeps in one of his favorite t-shirts and takes it with her when she leaves. He keeps wondering where it went, until she's on a insta livestream with a friend, and let's it slip she sleeps in someone she likes' t-shirt. You decide how it ends.
Tumblr media
You and Chris had met when you joined the marvel cast and became fast friends.
Your characters in the movies were pretty close and shared a lot of scenes together and soon enough, fans were shipping you.
Chris was the first one to notice how much the fans liked you together and the two of you constantly made jokes about how you must be meant to be because of it.
As you grew closer, it became obvious to both of you that the jokes had real feelings behind them.
Neither one of you was willing to admit it though.
The press was notorious for tearing down any and every public celebrity relationship and with you being quite a bit younger than Chris, you knew it just wasn't worth the headaches to admit your feelings.
One night you and Chris had been having a movie marathon and he offered to let you stay over.
"Alright but no funny business, mr."
You joke as he goes to grab you one of his favorite tshirts to wear.
"You can take me bed. I'll crash on the couch."
He says after you had changed, the look of you in his shirt, making his heart race.
"Chris, don't be stupid. We are two grown adults, we can share a bed."
You reply with an eye roll.
Chris reluctantly agrees and the two of you climb into his bed, Dodger sleeping at the foot.
Sometime during the night, Chris wraps his arms around you and when you wake up the next morning, your bodies are completely intertwined.
Not long after you wake up, you leave and head back to your place.
The next few weeks were extremely busy and you and Chris spend most of the time playing phone tag.
"Hey, Y/N!"
Your friend says just as you join her on an Instagram live.
"Hey!"
You wave back with a smile.
Comments and questions come flooding in as you and your friend catch up.
"Did you see the new PJ's I got? They are so soft."
She says, referring to a post she had made earlier in the day.
"I did! They look amazing but I don't know, I'm pretty partial to a shirt I stole from a certain someone."
You give a sly smile.
"Oohh does someone have a crush?"
Your friend asks.
"What, are we in the third grade?"
You joke.
"Fine miss grown up, do you like someone?"
She asks with a sigh.
"Yeah, I do and not just for his tshirts either."
You wink and the comment section goes crazy making guesses as to who you could be referring to, most guessing Chris.
'So, you do have my shirt. I've been looking for that thing everywhere.'
You look down at the text on your watch and smile when you read the message from Chris.
'It's mine now.'
You reply, your nerves rising as you realize he was watching the live stream and had just heard you admit how you feel about him.
'We'll see about that. By the way, I like you too.'
He replies quickly and butterflies fill your stomach.
"Y/N? Are you listening?"
Your friend asks, trying to get your attention.
'Dinner tomorrow. My place.'
You reply just as your friend yells your name to get your attention.
"What? Sorry. Text."
You apologize, turning your attention back to her after you read Chris' final message.
'It's a date.'
81 notes · View notes
loubrary · 4 years
Text
Billy Hargrove x Male Reader
Headcanons: You’re new in town and help Billy become a better person.
Warnings: mentions of violence and homophobia, hints of smut.
A/N: This doesn’t really follows the ST timeline but who cares about canon or accuracy, am I right?
[ Masterlist ]
Tumblr media
Your parents move you a lot due to their jobs, they’re always researching something in some strange corner of the world. You can’t understand how you went from living in South America for the last six months to living in middle-of-nowhere Hawkins Indiana.
You’re out to your parents, and they’re very supportive. You consider yourself lucky, they’re very modern and open-minded people.
The kids at your new school don’t know what to make of you with your different clothes, hair and accent. Some of the teachers are fascinated to learn of the places you’ve been to. 
When you met Robin your gaydars went off and you’re both excited to have a Fellow Gay in town. She introduces you to her friend Steve and the three of you become very close. Soon you are also helping Steve take care of his kids.
Tumblr media
Billy hears of this strange new kid and goes to look for him to show him who owns this school. When Billy sees you he is enthralled, the world stops and all he sees is you, he feels a strange sensation inside, and he hates it.
In the days that follow, Billy makes his moves. He is mean to you, calls you names. He tries to intimidate you and scare you. But you’ve dealt with his type many times before and you have some tricks up your sleeve. 
Billy hates that you don’t react to his taunting. You just smile and laugh.
“F*g!”
“You too?! Wanna go on a date, darling? Bad boys with pretty hair are totally my type, Hargrove.”
His words don’t work, so he changes his tactics. 
You’re walking through an empty hallway when he attempts to grab you and slam you against the wall. Only to find himself on the floor completely immobilized. He had no clue you had trained in various martial arts. 
Putting the pain aside, Billy is turned on by the feeling of being dominated, he feels himself hardening against the cold floor. 
You lean down and whisper in his ear, “think twice before daring to touch me, pretty boy.” You let him go. 
One side of him wants to fight but when he sees the determination and fearlessness in your eyes he backs down. “This isn’t over,” he huffs and leaves stomping the floor.
Tumblr media
Billy leaves you alone after that. He only glares at you and curses at you under his breath. He hates that he can’t stop thinking about that day. He hates that he enjoyed being under your control. He hates how he can only cum to images of you. But at this exact moment he hates seeing you with Steve laughing. 
You feel his eyes on you, how they follow you as you move. When you face him his face hardens and his fists clench, but there’s something in his eyes you can’t decipher. 
One day you’re alone in the showers, or so you think. You turn and see Billy checking you out from the other side, completely frozen. You notice his hard-on and his eyes open wide. He thinks you’ll say something but you just smile and wink at him. He leaves hurriedly trying to control himself. 
That confirms your suspicions and you know what is up with Billy. You’ve met guys with internalized homophobia, but never like Billy.
After that, teasing Billy becomes one of your favourite activities. You pay him visits at the pool, making sure he gets a nice view of you. You notice when he covers his lap with his magazine, and tries to focus on something else. 
“Why do we come to the public pool? We both have pools at home,” Steve complains. Robin laughs at the clueless boy, and proceeds to explain the situation.
Tumblr media
One day Billy finds you alone and he attempts to make a move on you. He was so confident believing you’d accept his advances. 
“I’m not some desperate lonely gay boy, Billy. I don’t bend over for any hot guy that offers me his dick.” “So you think I’m hot?” He smirks. You scoff leaving him there.
Billy hates that you rejected him. How is it possible? He thinks of the guys he tormented and then fucked back in California, how easy they fell to their knees for him. 
Billy has never met a gay guy as confident and unafraid as you. Deep inside he feels jealous and admiration for you. He secretly wishes he could be as open and be free as you.
Tumblr media
You get paired for a project, you are prepared to do all the work and let him take part of the credit. You’re shocked when he asks if you want to get together to work on the project. You’re even more shocked when you learn that he actually understands the material and is quite smart. 
Against your better judgement you invite him to your place. You’re surprised he shows up on time.
When he greets your parents, it’s like he’s a completely different person. He laughs at your dad’s jokes, compliments your mom, and even asks about what they are working on.
Billy is even more jealous of you when he sees how loving and caring your parents are, how happy and peaceful your home life is. 
Tumblr media
The second time he comes over he has to excuse himself and go to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and calm down. All he can think of is everything you have that he doesn’t.
He finds you and your parents sitting tightly together as your mother reads a book out loud in french for you and your dad. 
“Sit down honey, I’ll translate for you,” your mother says. 
By the fourth day he accepts your parents’ invitation to stay for dinner. He has fun, he’s fascinated by your parents’ stories and their research work. 
You get a glimpse of the real Billy and can’t help but smile. 
Tumblr media
One day during dinner your mother talks about your exes trying to embarrass you, and asks Billy if there’s a special boy in his life.
Billy’s breath hitches and starts to sweat. He stands up quickly bumping into the table, saying he has to leave. 
Your mom tries to apologise and your dad asks him to stay. 
You follow him outside the house. “Billy, wait!” 
He turns around to face you and his eyes are red as he tries to hold in the tears. “Hey, it’s all—“ “I’m not a... I’m not.” he grunts before getting in his car and speeding off. 
Billy parks somewhere secluded and hits the steering wheel with his fists, he cries and yells in anger. He’s angry, sad, jealous. 
He cries for his mom, for a life he wishes he had, for the love and support he yearns for. 
Tumblr media
Billy returns the following week to finish the project. He plans to just focus on the project, finish it and never return. 
Your mom answers the door. “So good to see you, love, we’ve missed you,” she says warmly rubbing his arm, “sorry about the other day”. He almost doesn’t hear the last sentence, he hasn’t heard those words or felt that way in a long time. Someone being happy to see him, missing him, calling him love. 
Your dad greets him and calls him son, and asks him to join him later in the study to show him their latest findings. 
You and Billy don’t talk about what happened. You focus on your project.
“Have you always been out to your parents?” Billy blurts out.
You decide to be honest. “Yeah, they sort of figured it out when I was little.” You tell him how growing up you met all kinds of people through your parents. You tell him about your parents’ gay friends that you call uncles and aunts. Telling him how you always felt free to be yourself with your parents even though you know the world is cruel and unaccepting. 
After a moment of silence Billy speaks. He talks about the only openly gay person he ever met, a friend of his mom back in California. He tells you about how his father hated his mom’s friend and got in fights with his mom about it. 
He tells you about his dad, how aggressive and angry he is. He doesn’t tell you about the physical abuse. He went on about how unhappy he was, and how different your lives were. 
You start to see why Billy acts the way he does. Bullying others is his way to feel he is in control.
“How do you do it?” 
“What?” 
“Being gay like that, you don’t hide.” 
“We only live once, I’m not gonna let a world full of bigots tell me I can’t be myself and be happy.” You pause. ”Billy? You can always be yourself here.”
Tumblr media
After you finish your project, Billy keeps coming to your place to hang out. 
He’s more relaxed and tones down the attitude. He even starts being nice to Max.
He’s still the bad boy to everyone else, but when he enters your home all that stays outside.
You learn more about the real Billy. How he likes science and music. How curious he is. How funny he can be. And you slowly start to fall for this Billy.
Tumblr media
One day Billy and you are in the living room listening to music lying on the carpet and giggling when your mom comes in. “Honey, your friends are here.”
You both look up and see a shocked Steve and the kids, and a grinning Robin. Max is especially shocked by the whole scene.
“Oh hey guys, you know Billy, right? We’re just listening to this new album.”
Billy panics, and stands up to escape, “I have to go.” You understand, not wanting to force him into anything. 
The others sit down looking suspiciously at Billy as he leaves. Billy avoids all eye contact. “What did I get himself into?” Billy thinks. 
Meanwhile Robin and you have each other’s arm over your shoulders as you sing dramatically.
“Is anyone going to talk about how you were on the floor giggling with Billy Hargrove?” Mike asks. 
Tumblr media
One rainy night, Billy is driving to your house. His eyes sting, his knuckles turn white gripping the wheel. He feels his cheek and eye starting to swell. He stays on the driveway debating on what to do. He sees your bedroom light on and goes to ring the bell hoping that you open the door.
It’s your mom that opens the door. “Billy? Come on in, love, you’re soaking wet.” When he steps into the lit hallway your mom finally sees his face. “Oh my god, sweetheart. What happened?” 
“Who is it darling? Oh Billy!  Are you okay, son?” Your dad asks him.
Billy wants to lie, he had this planned, he would have said how he got into a fight with another guy and didn’t want to go home looking like that. “I got—I...” he tries. But he can’t keep it in anymore. “It was... My—my dad...” he chokes as he lets out a cry. 
He feels two sets of arms engulf him, and he lets is all out. He cries like he’s never cried before. He thinks he hears your name being called. He hears your parents’ voices, encouraging and supportive words he can barely make up. He cries even more when he think of how these people that he met not long ago care more about him than his own father. 
You find your parents consoling Billy. Your mom is holding him while your dad rubs circles on his back. And Billy holds on to them like his life depends on it.“Billy?” He looks up to you and you see his broken face, all the pain and suffering he has endured and your heart breaks for him. 
You help him get up and walk him to the living room. Your dad goes to prepare the guest room and your mother prepares some tea. Billy is curled into a ball under a blanker with his head on your lap. You run your hand through his hair as you rub his arm comfortingly. 
When he calms down, he starts telling you of everything his dad has done. All the punches, the bruises, the hurtful words. 
Later you take him to the guest room, you help him get his clothes off and rub some medicine over his bruises. 
“Can you stay with me?” 
“Of course.”
You hold him close, his face pressed on your chest. 
For the first time in a long while Billy sleeps peacefully.
Tumblr media
After that day your parents take action, they’re on the phone with their lawyers, looking at how they can help Billy and Max.
Your parents help him get custody of Max. 
The both of them move in with your family. 
“Can’t believe you’re taking me to live with your boyfriend,” Max tells him. “He’s just a friend,” he groans. “Yeah, right.”
That night Billy is in your bed as you read to him, his head on your lap. “Thank you,” he says pulling your book down to look at you. “What for?” You ask, running a hand through his hair. “For saving me, and Max.” You smile and kiss his forehead and continue with the story.
Tumblr media
In the morning you wake up to Billy facing you, looking at you and he smiles. 
“You okay?” He nods and reaches for your hand, holding it tightly as he scoots closer to you.
You move a loose strand of hair behind his ear, caressing his cheek, feeling how soft his skin is. 
You two stay like that for a while just enjoying each other’s warmth in silence, playing with your hands and looking into other’s eyes. Neither of you can’t stop smiling. 
“I love you, (y/n).”
“I love you too, Billy.”
907 notes · View notes
lalainajanes · 3 years
Text
This completes column #2 on my bingo card, the square was “Eager Backstage Groupie”
Another Shot of Courage
 Saturday, May 1st, 8:16 AM
Caroline wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in the little black dress she'd worn to Kat's birthday party, with a headache and a foul-tasting mouth. She's sprawled in the middle of a very large mattress, so the first thing Caroline does is explore. She stretches her arms out tentatively, expecting to poke someone (hopefully an unobjectionable someone) awake.
She appears to be alone, and Caroline relaxes into the fluffy pillows. She wiggles experimentally, satisfied when her bra and underwear dig into uncomfortable areas and gives in to the temptation to burrow under the duvet.
She just needs a minute to regret her life choices before she confronts them. Caroline sighs, stretches, and her fuzzy head begins to clear, memories sharpening.
And yikes.
Can she stay in her self-made blanket fort forever? A lot of her conduct last night had been highly irrational, some of it downright hypocritical. She is a public relations professional, highly sought after. Her clients pay many pretty pennies for her services.
Had she seriously mauled Klaus Mikaelson in one of the trendiest clubs in LA?
Caroline tugs down the blanket, intent on confirming her suspicions, allowing her to look around and study the room with new eyes.
There's a brick fireplace at the end of the bed, a wide armchair in front of it – not particularly revealing. Her eyes flick to the left. There's nothing, but dark curtains pulled tight over a wall of windows.
When she looks to the right, there's a smoking gun. Well, kind of. It's a drafting table, an easel, and shelves featuring paintbrushes, haphazardly stacked sketchbooks, and a bunch of other things that Caroline doesn't currently have the brainpower to identify.
She considers slipping out of bed and checking to see if those curtains cover any kind of door. She thinks it's logical to assume so. She's only been to Klaus' home a few times, tries to insist they meet at her office. She's never ventured far beyond the kitchen and living rooms, but it's a Spanish-style bungalow on a sprawling lot. Why wouldn't he have a walk out into the yard from his bedroom?
She discards the idea with some regret. Running away without a word is a coward's move and would probably backfire. Klaus is still her client, whatever psychosis had gripped Caroline last night, and it's not like she could dump him via email at this point. He's got a huge movie coming in three weeks, and they're flying to London tomorrow to begin the premiere tour. She could probably pass it on to another publicist, but she'd still be on the hook, would have to coordinate her plans long-distance.
Selfishly, Caroline hopes that's not necessary. She'd hate for someone else to reap the benefits of her hard work.
She heaves herself into a sitting position, wincing when her head throbs. Her stomach seems solid, with no hint of queasiness, so that's a plus. Caroline tosses the covers aside, shifts until her legs slide over the side of the bed. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror through the open closet door and cringes.
She'd done an excellent smoky eye last night, and it's migrated all over her face. She doesn't even want to consider how long it's going to take to detangle her hair. She decides she can wait a bit to hunt down Klaus, stepping forward and twisting the knob on the closed door. "Jackpot," Caroline mutters, walking into Klaus' bathroom. There's a stack of towels on the counter, and she figures it won't hurt to take a shower.
She'd had her tongue in his mouth and had apparently kicked him out of his bed, so what's one more presumption?
Friday, April 30th, 10:47 PM
In the VIP lounge Kat had rented, elevated above the main dance floor, Caroline waves away a shot of tequila. She'd had one during the birthday toast, wine at dinner. Had just ordered an overpriced cocktail. She's pleasantly tipsy but needs to pace herself because she can't get too drunk tonight.
Besides, Caroline and tequila have a complicated relationship.
Kat boos her, a few of the other girls joining in. Caroline laughs, "I know, I'm boring. I have a million things to do tomorrow to make sure I'm ready to live out of a suitcase for weeks."
Katherine scoffs, "Just make Klaus buy you anything you forget. What good is a guy who's hot for you and makes big fat superhero movie paychecks if he won't buy you pretty things?"
They've discussed this a bajillion times. Caroline has actually run away from this exact conversation, shouting nonsense syllables, with her fingers jammed in her ear, as if she and Katherine still fight over Barbies and who gets to wear dress-up trunk's best princess dress.
Caroline still can't resist arguing – it's a character flaw. "He's my client. That's it."
"Oh, please. Men in this town bone their clients all the time."
"That doesn't make it okay!"
Usually, this is the part where Katherine tries to convince her that Klaus is dying to be boned – her words, not Caroline's – but she gets distracted, squinting across the bar. Kat's lips curl, expression growing sly, "It appears my argument is moot."
Um, what? Katherine's literally never backed down from an argument in the twenty-plus years they've been friends. Puzzled, Caroline turns, trying to see what caught Kat's attention.
The club features several VIP lounges, each located at the top of a short staircase and decorated with wide velvet sofas and crystal chandeliers. There's an attendant who keeps booze and food flowing. It's clever – the sofas are inviting and squishy, tend to force people close together. The chandeliers ensure that anyone who happens to take a picture can get a decent shot, and the free flow of liquor has lowered the inhibitions of at least half a dozen celebrities, resulting in photos that send the gossip blogs into a tizzy as soon as they hit the internet.
When Caroline spots Klaus across the way, a redheaded model sprawled in his lap, she's immediately fuming.
"Looks like he got tired of waiting," Kat drawls. "Wanna reconsider the tequila?"
"Katherine. I love you. But zip it."
Katherine makes a face but leaves Caroline alone, turning to another one of their friends and asking a question. Caroline takes a deep breath, counts to ten.
She'd busted her ass to make him appear family-friendly enough to land the movie with the very PR-conscious studio that had netted him the big fat checks Katherine had just been crowing over. He's jeopardizing that on the eve of the most significant press tour of his career.
She looks over again, leaning forward. The redhead's moved away, she's sitting at Klaus' side, and they now appear to be merely engaged in conversation. Caroline does her best to think like a photographer – is there an angle that could make the scene look tawdry?
Probably not. So really, Klaus isn't jeopardizing anything.
Caroline's anger doesn't cool at the revelation.
She's so screwed.
She's on her feet before she decides to be, stalking down the stairs. She hears Katherine yelling borderline lewd encouragement at her back, but Caroline knows better than to take her advice.
She's marching over to diffuse, not inflame.
Hopefully.
Saturday, May 1st, 9:01 AM
She finds Klaus in his living room, asleep, his legs hanging awkwardly over the arm of a too-short couch, his torso twisted so awkwardly that Caroline's back twinges sympathetically. With the confirmation that she had stolen his bed, more of Caroline's irritation fades. The shower had helped, as had the bottle of water she'd guzzled and the three Tylenol she'd popped.
She takes a seat on his coffee table, setting down her second bottle of water. Caroline reaches out, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus," she murmurs when he begins to stir. "Wake up."
She could probably leave him to sleep. Klaus' stylist will handle most of his packing; he's borrowed a dizzying volume of outfits and accessories for Klaus to wear on this trip. The announcement won't come for another two weeks, but Klaus is shooting a Dior cologne ad once his press obligations wrap. The brand had requested he start wearing the newest line. Caroline had attended the last fitting, and she'd had a hard time keeping her blatant ogling under wraps.
Klaus looks good in ratty jeans, in a suit tailored to his measurements? Just about anyone attracted to men would have struggled not to appreciate the sight.
That's how Caroline had justified letting her emails pile up that afternoon.
She'd been a little worried about her control slipping on this trip, once they were alone in the hotel, and Klaus dropped the shiny, press-perfect façade he's learned to maintain. Caroline had designed that mask to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Doing interview prep has unfortunately only emphasized how much more she likes Klaus without it.
Klaus stretches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "I hope you slept better than I did."
Caroline winces, "Don’t you have a guest room or two you could have shoved me in?”
He smiles lazily, “You were quite insistent on touring my bedroom.”
Her eyes slam shut, face heating, “And that is why I don’t drink tequila unsupervised,” she grumbles.
He laughs, sitting up, his legs bracketing hers. He reaches for her water bottle and helps himself to a sip. Caroline leans back, fishing the Tylenol out of the pocket of the hoodie she’d stolen from his closet. She’d needed something bulkier to hide the fact she hadn’t been able to convince herself to strap her bra back on. “Do you want these?” she asks, rattling the bottle.
Klaus shakes his head, “I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink at all, and you stole that shot of tequila that was meant for me, remember?”
Ohhh no. She’d forgotten about that. She’d stolen his and the model’s.
Which, in hindsight, goes a long way to explaining what had happened after. Caroline’s problem with tequila is that once she starts, she has a hard time stopping. It heightens her usually non-existent impulsive streak, leads to sub-par decisions.
Occasionally, tequila does make her clothes fall off.
Caroline buries her hands in her face, wishing she hadn’t tied her hair back. She’s mortified, probably growing splotchy. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.
Klaus sighs, tries to tug her hands away. Caroline resists, tensing her muscles, wishes she’d gone with her first instinct and fled out the backdoor. He rests his hands on her knees, squeezing, voice dipping into coaxing tones. “No apology necessary. I’m not the least bit upset.”
Unfortunately, Caroline’s totally up to the task of being upset enough for the both of them.
Friday, April 30th, 10:53 PM
Once the attendant in Klaus VIP area confirms that he does know Caroline and lets her up the stairs, Klaus has managed to increase the distance between his body and the model’s. He seems pleased to see her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to sit next to him on the couch.
Close enough that they’re connected thigh to shoulder.
The model, whose name Caroline doesn’t particularly care about, is less welcoming. She glares daggers at Caroline’s hand, still enclosed in Klaus’. He makes polite introductions. “Genevieve, this is my publicist and very good friend, Caroline Forbes. Caroline, Genevieve. She’s a friend of Kol’s.”
Klaus’ younger brother is also an actor, still firmly in the throes of his wild child phase. Caroline finds him entertaining, despite her best intentions, but he’s known to delight in making her job more complicated. She glances around suspiciously, “Is Kol here?”
Klaus gestures vaguely to the dance floor. “Somewhere. He dragged me out to celebrate a pilot he booked, then disappeared.”
Hmm, that could lead to disaster. Caroline wonders if she should shoot his publicist a text as a professional courtesy.
Caroline smiles at Genevieve sharply, “So sweet of you to keep Klaus company.” It’s mean, but Caroline wonders if Genevieve has somehow heard about Klaus’ Dior deal through the grapevine. Maybe she’s aiming for a co-starring role – Caroline’s read the treatment for the commercial; it’s supposed to be streamy.
Oh, good lord, High School Caroline has somehow time traveled and taken over her body.
Genevieve pastes on an equally fake smile (at least Caroline’s not the only one regressing). Before she can snipe back, a silver tray is set in front of them, two shots resting on it. The attendant catches Caroline’s eye, “Can I get you anything, Miss?”
Klaus interrupts, squeezes her hand in an absent apology, “Sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered a water.”
He’s contractually obligated to maintain a ridiculously chiseled body. Caroline’s got a reminder in her phone to order him a pile of celebratory spaghetti after his press obligations are officially over and he can relax for a few months.
The attendant’s eyes flit to Genevieve in confusion, “I…”
“I cancelled that,” she chirps, sliding her hand up Klaus’ arm. Genevieve leans in, tone lowering to what Caroline thinks is supposed to be a seductive level. “Figured we would toast.”
Caroline catches it because she’s practically plastered to Klaus’ other side. “Who toasts with tequila?” she asks. “Other than creeps at bars, I mean.”
Had Caroline not been well acquainted with Katherine Pierce, she might have been intimidated by Genevieve's attempt at a lethal glare.
Caroline stares back, reaching blindly for the first shot. She tosses it back, then the second, fighting the shudder that wants to wrack her frame through sheer willpower alone.
“Bitch,” Genevieve mutters, standing and flouncing away.
It’s petty, but Caroline savors her win.
Klaus is staring at her oddly, a touch concerned. “Maybe we should get you some water, love.”
Saturday, May 1st, 9:04 AM
“There were more shots when I got back to Kat’s party,” Caroline moans. “I’m going to kill her. She knows my weaknesses.”
“While I am reluctant to defend your irritating friend, she did seem rather intent on her fun. It was her birthday, wasn’t it?”
Caroline nods, “Yeah. And Kat’s always been firmly convinced that she should get to do whatever her little black heart desires on her birthday.”
“She did insist I ensure you get home safely. I’m afraid you were rather reluctant to supply your address.”
She sighs, finally dropping her hands. “Honestly, I just moved into a condo. I might not have remembered it.” That’s the less embarrassing option. It’s probably more likely that tequila drunk Caroline had crafted a plan to seduce Klaus, and step one entailed getting invited to his house. “I know you said not to apologize, but I obviously put you out. I’m supposed to babysit you, not the other way around.”
Klaus laughs, his knee nudging hers. “I haven’t needed that for ages, as you well know.”
He has a point – Caroline likely wouldn’t have agreed to take him on if he was still indulging in public drunkenness and paparazzi punching. When she’d first met with Klaus, it had been out of curiosity. She’d made a comfortable living from her client roster, did not need to take on the project of a difficult actor.
Klaus’ bad behavior had been a few years in the past, and he’d just come off a run of festival darlings and had produced a surprise hit sci-fi drama. He’d been frustrated by the doors that remained firmly shut to him, had laid his ambitions on the table.
Caroline had been intrigued. While she’s excellent at her job, but it’s always easier to work her magic with clients who are willing to dive into the work. Klaus’ talent was undeniable; she’d thought he could be a household name with the right opportunity. She’d agreed to take him on, and three years later, it’s paid off.
Caroline tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands, eyes on the frayed trim. “I was mad when I saw you last night, and that wasn’t fair. You’d set you were resting up for the press tour, but it’s not my business if you changed your mind.”
“Did you think I was resuming some bad habits?” Klaus asks. “I know that particular venue has a… reputation. Probably why Kol picked it.”
Caroline sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge how he feels, but he’s not giving much away. “No, not really. I trust you. I wasn’t thinking super logically.”
She has to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been jealous. Caroline’s going to have to think about how deep that goes, if the feelings that had slapped her in the face last night will prevent their working relationship from being effective. What if Klaus meets someone? Will she be able to plant sneaky tidbits about how happy they are, scour the gossip blogs for rumors that could become issues?
“You? Not thinking logically? However could that be?”
She glares at him, though she knows his teasing is good-natured. “Some of it was the booze. I totally wouldn’t have hauled you onto the dance floor without it. And I wouldn’t have… well, you were there.”
She’s not up to list her transgressions. If Klaus hadn’t been drinking, then his memory of her wandering hands, her flirtatious comments, and heated invitations should be crystal clear. Caroline had been drunk, and she’s having a hard time not dwelling on the kiss – which, to be fair, Klaus had enthusiastically participated in – that she’d initiated.
“I was there. I have no objections to anything that occurred last night, save perhaps wishing you’d been sober.” Her head snaps up, eyes widening in shock, and Klaus laughs incredulously. “Surely you must know of my interest in you, Caroline.”
She’s suspected, but she’s also well aware that Klaus has no shortage of offers. Last night is proof of that. Caroline has always assumed that take one of them, at some point, and his flirtatiousness with her would fade away. She’d dated an actor or two when she’d moved to LA after wrapping up college. Caroline had been working insane hours then, trying to claw her way past the other assistants at the agency where she’d worked. Her exes from that time period had been quick to move on once they realized she wasn’t willing to center her universe around them.
“Interest can be fleeting.”
“It’s been three years.”
“You never made a real move.”
Again, Klaus counters quickly. “You’d not have accepted, and then you’d likely have pawned me off on someone else.”
Yeah, he’s got a point there. “I’m your publicist.”
“I have no objection to mixing business with pleasure. If you do, I suppose I’m willing to suffer a less competent publicist.”
“I’m beginning to suspect you’ve been plotting.”
Klaus shrugs, entirely unrepentant. “Perhaps a bit. I’ve always been entirely honest with you, I merely prevented a situation that would lessen the time we spent together until such a time as you were ready to consider me in a romantic light.”
“That’s a lot of words to confess you’ve been trying to flirt me into submission while flashing your hot body at every opportunity,” Caroline grumbles.
Klaus’ smile widens, dimples now visible. “It seems to have worked. Assuming that you meant the things you said to me last night?”
“I…” she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that directly. She should have been – Klaus is skilled at choosing the best way to catch someone off guard. Caroline glances away from him, eyes catching on the clock across the room. Crap. She has so much to do. “I have to go,” Caroline tells him, standing up.
His eyes narrow,  and his head tips to the side, like he’s searching for a sign of weakness. Both telltale indicators that Klaus is gearing up to argue. Caroline holds up a hand, “I know, okay? This looks like I’m running away, and technically I am, but this is not the time to begin that mixing you mentioned. We’ve both worked too hard to risk screwing up the next few weeks. Did you read your contract? The fines for non-compliance are no joke.”
“Now is not the time,” Klaus says slowly. “Meaning?”
“We table it now. I’m open to a discussion later.” Three weeks is plenty of time for her to sort out where she stands, right? Caroline never sleeps on flights anyway.
He runs a hand through his hair. “I want a timeline. I understand that you feel obligated to ensure this press tour goes smoothly, but you can only use it as an excuse until it’s over, love. I’m prepared to be persuasive.”
“What, do you want me to schedule something on your calendar? Maybe set an agenda?”
“No need to be so formal. Just agree to have dinner with me once we return. Here, if you’d like, so we don’t risk inflaming the tabloids before you’re ready.”
“You seem awfully sure that this is going to go a certain way. So eager to fire me?”
Klaus gets to his feet, and Caroline sucks in a nervous breath. Sitting across from each other, he’d been a reasonable distance away. Now, with both of them standing in the narrow gap between his couch and coffee table, if one of them breathes too deeply or shifts deliberately, they’ll be plastered together.
She’s tempted despite knowing she’s right about the timing.
Klaus rests his hand on her waist and turns them so Caroline could step back if she wanted to.
She stays where she is.
A tiny smile curls Klaus’ lips and his hand moves, pressing her closer. “As much as I enjoyed your more… explicit ramblings last night, I must confess my favorite revelation was when you confessed to just how long you’ve had them.”
Caroline, not for the first time, curses tequila’s wretched existence.
Wednesday, May 5th 2:20 PM
The meet and greets are going to kill her.
Caroline had thought they were a good idea when she’d poured through the itinerary the studio had sent over. Inviting popular bloggers, auctioning off tickets for charity, allowing fans to enter random draws – it’s great PR and provides the opportunity for viral moments, while also controlling the environment.
Caroline’s leaning against one of the walls, unnoticed, eyes on her client.
A lot of eyes are on her client, some of which irritate Caroline more than others. The two teenage girls, trailed by an exasperated dad, who’d both burst into tears when Klaus had smiled at them? Totally adorable. The nerdy college student who’d grilled Klaus about his character’s comic backstory? Kind of a pain, but Klaus had done his homework, and Caroline had been impressed.
And annoyed. Excessive preparation is very attractive and unhelpful at this juncture of the press tour. Caroline’s already begun to reconsider what they’d agreed to, wonders if knocking on his hotel room door on the last night would be such a bad thing.
That line of thinking might be overly influenced by the scene in front of her.
Klaus is speaking with a woman in an afternoon inappropriate silver dress. Caroline’s sorely tempted to have her escorted out by security. She’d slipped a key card into the back pocket of Klaus’ jeans within 90 seconds of meeting him.
He’s handed it back, said something that made her laugh. They’re still talking.
Klaus glances up, eyes landing on her immediately. Caroline hastily tries to soften her irritated expression lest he guesses its reason. Klaus smiles, subtly tips his water bottle in her direction. Silver Dress invades his personal space a little more.
Ugh. It’s gonna be a long three weeks.
33 notes · View notes
misssquidtracy · 4 years
Text
Noble Intentions (Part 1).
My contribution to Gordo’s FabFiveFeb week. Chapter 2 will spill over into the first day of Alan’s week, courtesy of a certain gorgeous aquanaut who insisted on making this 2x as long as originally planned.
Sorry not sorry, Alan ❤️
All credit for FabFiveFeb goes to the amazing @gumnut-logic 💚
Prompt: A memory.
Warnings: Mild strong language.
Genre: Humour.
Characters: Sea Bean & Land Cabbage.
-x-
“And that, ladies and gentleman, is a wrap!”
A sigh that somehow managed to bridge the gap between despair and disbelief filtered over the comm channel, “Don’t go Hollywood on me now, Thunderbird Four. Are the targets clear of the danger zone?”
“Yes siree,” came the rather chipper reply, “Hazardous material has been removed and ultrasonic sweeps show no more underwater casualties. Danger zone is officially cleared. Standby for pickup, Thunderbird Two.”
“F.A.B,” came the rich tones of brother Numero Dos, “Can you be Pacific about your location, please?”
“Careful, Virg. I have a license to krill, you know,” Gordon warned playfully, aligning the little yellow sub so that she was within grabbing distance of module four’s cable.
A snort was offered by Virgil in lieu of a verbal reply, “I never knew it was possible to stick one’s head so far up one’s ass. Tell me, what did you have for dinner last night?”
“Same thing as you, bro,” Gordon countered, watching happily as his newly relinquished charges swam off to freedom. An emergency call had come in from a concerned student at the University of Otago claiming that several members of the dolphin pod she was satellite tracking in Kaikoura had run afoul of a discarded fishing net. Ever eager to help an animal in distress and with the right gear at his disposal, Gordon had roused Virgil and politely requested that the engineer taxi him the two and a half thousand miles to New Zealand’s South Island.
A decent number of locals had joined the rescue effort by the time Thunderbird Two arrived on scene, and it was with unbridled joy that they cheered as the last dolphin was cut free by Four’s robotic arms. Aside from managing to dodge an animal welfare bullet, the cetaceans were a tourism magnet and thus, an invaluable source of income for the town.
“Kia ora! Thank you!” a young woman called, scurrying up to shake Gordon and Virgil’s hands, “I’m Mandy Harrell, and on behalf of the IMMA, I just want to say how grateful we are to International Rescue for your help here today.”
Gordon smiled warmly, “I’ve always admired the work of the Marine Mammal Protected Areas Task Force. The pleasure is all mine.”
“Having two representatives from the world’s most elite rescue organisation here will do wonders for our public image,” Mandy enthused, shaking her head in excited disbelief, “We’re trying to raise enough funds to conduct a clean-up operation along this section of coastline. We suspect the net you just removed is one of several left by a group of unregulated fishermen we apprehended last June. Our goal is to have the first five hundred meters of coast cleared by the time the humpbacks arrive next month, but at the rate things are going, we’ll be several thousand dollars shy of our target.”
A soft series of beeps sounded as Gordon’s comm picked up an incoming call, but he ignored it in favour of giving Mandy his undivided attention. It was probably just John checking in. Or Scott forewarning him that Grandma was cooking and that they were out of laxatives.
“Perhaps we could donate the remainder?” Gordon offered, “I’d be delighted to help you guys in any way that I can.”
Virgil felt apprehension crawl up his spine when Mandy smiled, but didn’t instantly accept the (rather generous) offer that had been had laid down.
“That’s incredibly kind of you, but we like to be as self-sufficient as possible where money is concerned,” the young woman replied, tilting her head to take the sting out of her words, “If you’d be willing to donate your time however, that would be greatly appreciated.”
“Sign me up!” Gordon exclaimed, raising his hand in a similar manner to Scott’s scout oath, “I’m sure Alan can cover for me if I take an extra day off this week. You get that, John? Take me off the roster for tomorrow, please. Forward all emergencies necessitating the use of Thunderbird Four to Alan. I’ll take over his Monday shift next week as compensation.”
“Done and done,” came the smooth reply of the middle brother, “And now we wait for the inevitable tantrum.”
A chuckle bubbled up Virgil’s diaphragm as he adjusted his sash and fixed Mandy with an inquisitive gaze, “So, what will you have him doing? Shovelling seaweed? Litter picking? Seagull whispering?”
Mandy let loose a laugh that sounded a fraction forced, “Not quite. We’re a new partner of Otago University and recently signed a collaboration agreement with their School of Arts for the upcoming semester. We were going to host a series of life drawing sessions out on the open water, but the university probably won’t commit after the publicity this incident will undoubtedly be on the receiving end of. Do either of you have any experience with modelling by any chance?”
Virgil had less than a second to intervene before Gordon started uncontrollably word vomiting.
“Oh yes!” the aquanaut swanked, preening like a peacock, “Vogue, Armani, Cosmo, Grazia, Gucci, Vanity Fair, Louis Vuitton, Dior, Prada, Salvatore Ferragamo, Fendi, Saint Laurent, Givenchy, Balmain, Alexander McQueen, Burberry, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren, and KFC have all had a piece of this perfectly symmetrical face over the years.”
The squeal that tore out of Mandy had Virgil wondering if she was as smart as her paper qualifications claimed. A discreet search of IMMA on his comm gauntlet had revealed a string of abbreviations after her name that rivalled the Cambodian alphabet, yet she seemed perfectly willing to believe that Gordon really had modelled for all of the companies he’d just listed.
In truth, the closest the fourth Tracy had come to modelling was when his swim trunks had ripped during a family trip to the Seychelles. The scathing email that Scott had penned to the CEO of Speedo had been accompanied by multiple pictures of said trunks (both on and off their owner), along with the threat of legal action should Gordon end up deported for ‘indecent exposure’.
“Perfect!” Mandy effused, her green eyes glowing with excitement, “Ticket sales will skyrocket with a member of International Rescue as the subject! I must ring Shona and tell her to re-book the town hall.”
Valuable blood drained from Gordon’s face as the reality of what he’d inadvertently signed up for dawned on him like a sunrise in hell, “Uh, I thought you just wanted me as a poster boy for your open water sessions? Y’know…posing with porpoises, photobombing seals…helping to smooth over the bad publicity, right? Getting people to focus on the good rather than the bad?”
Mandy shook her head, her brown curls bucking in the breeze that was buffeting the shore, “It’ll be all over the news that it was you guys who saved the day, not us. International Rescue’s presence here is the catalyst for a financial surge we can’t afford to miss. I’m begging you. The dolphins are begging you. Please, help us to help them.”
Gordon chewed his lip. While he was probably the brother least phased at the prospect of getting his kit off for charity, he knew that Scott would be on him like shit on velcro if his derriere ended up plastered across the front of every global news channel in all its bare glory.
“Thunderbird Two, a priority call just came in from a couple of wreck divers in Chuuk Lagoon, Micronesia,” John’s voice, ever calm and authoritative, served as both a welcome distraction and an excuse to leave, “Alan and Kayo just got called away to a flood in Columbia and Scott is on a conference call with Colonel Casey, which makes you two our closest and only available option.”
“Please say you’ll come?” Mandy wheedled, panic slipping into her voice when Virgil and Gordon began to walk towards Two’s cockpit platform, “It’ll just be for a few of hours, and there’ll be a free lunch.”
That got Gordon’s attention. He’d been prepared to agree for the sake of the dolphins and inbound humpbacks, but the promise of free food sealed the deal.
“Ten o’clock tomorrow!” the aquanaut yelled, waving as the platform began to ascend, “I’ll need a toasted cheese on granary and five of whatever your equivalent of Celery Crunch bars are!”
“Uh, Gordon?” Virgil’s voice was low and gentle, a stark contrast to the shrieks of delight Mandy was emitting, “Do I need to remind you about what happened last time you signed up for something like this?”
Any confidence the aquanaut had vanished quicker than a burp in a dust storm as a memory he’d worked hard to suppress began to surface.
TBC.
46 notes · View notes
huearmy · 4 years
Text
The Smell of Truth - VII
Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.
Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader
Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.
Words: 5784
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
A/N: I know, Y/N and Jungkook eat all the time and spend a lot of time on her car.
Chapter I  Chapter II  Chapter III  Chapter IV  Chapter V  Chapter VI
Tumblr media
"Jungkook, can you help unload the new merch, please?" Jessi said from behind the cashier, where she was talking with a customer.
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Be careful!"
Jungkook dropped what he was doing at the back of the store - cleaning CD shelves and rearranging alphabetically and music genres that customers take out of place - and ran outside by the back exit, where his coworker, another hybrid, was already signing receipt papers in front of a truck. One of the delivery men was already carefully removing some boxes from inside the truck and putting it on the sidewalk.
"What's in the boxes?" He curiously asked.
"These two bigger ones are guitars, they are orders. And those others are smaller instruments, like flutes and harmonicas." The golden retriever with slightly pink hair that he hadn't memorized the name yet said. Was it Ryujin?  "Take care, even if the box is light, everything is very fragile."
"Ok." Jungkook stacked the two heavier boxes, as he saw the delivery guy do, and being careful, he went back inside to store it in the warehouse. In one second he was back to pick the others.
It was his first week on his new job, and obviously, it didn't even surprise you, he chose the music shop. The boy has a great ear and an excellent musical taste, besides music proved to be one of the things he likes most in his new life.
The other day you caught him risking singing softly in his room, when he thought you weren't at home, and in order not to make him uncomfortable, you didn't reveal your presence at all, letting him be. He has a beautiful voice. So, the possibility of being able to discover new music and new artists at work and talk to people with the same tastes as him made Jungkook's round eyes shine like the universe.
Up until then, working was fun, and the coworkers were nice. Maybe it was because of the initial excitement, but Jungkook was efficient and learned quickly, so he was praised almost all the time, which made him blush and have an almost permanent smile. The customers usually think it's cute.
"Ah... excuse me."
Jungkook listened to someone calling, he was at the top of a ladder, arranging some instruments on the top shelf, and looked down to see two high school girls.
"Yes?"  He asked.
The same girl responded.
"I'm looking for new strings for my guitar. Can you help me?" Her voice shook a little, but at the end of the sentence she smiled confidently.
"Sure!" He went down. "Six strings or twelve strings? Nylon or steel strings?"
The two girls looked to each other in confusion.
"Ah... Six and... steel." It was almost a question.
"Ok. I'll get it for you."
From the cashier, Jessi and Ryujin watched the scene with judgmental eyes. Both of them were free, but it was obvious it wasn't their help that these girls wanted. Who knew Jungkook was going to bring new customers just for being handsome.
"I never saw these two here."  Jessi crossed her arms.
"Me neither. Bet she doesn't even have a guitar." Ryujin shrugged.
"I don't care, as long as they buy something." The other shrugged too, leaving to the back of the store.
At this moment Jungkook was coming to the cashier, three packs of guitar strings from three different brands in hand, and speaking the decorated speech they taught him on the first day, followed by the two girls, who were attentively paying attention with heart eyes.
"If you can't or don't know how to put the new strings on the guitar, just bring it here that we put for you... Not we, because I don't know how to put it, but Jessi knows..." Jungkook smiled, and it looked like the girl that didn't talk at all wasn't breathing anymore. He placed the three string options on the counter in front of his coworker, still smiling.
"Are you going to take them all?" Ryujin asked, also with the friendly smile of a good employee.
The girls' eyes widened for a second.
"No." The talkative one replied, perhaps with too much emphasis, and with a quick glance at Jungkook and an embarrassed smile, she added. "Only this one."
Ryujin took the set of strings that the girl chose - the cheapest one - to pass through the barcode reader. After the two paid, Jungkook accompanied them to the exit with a short conversation, implying that the girl should dedicate herself to learning the new instrument and wishing her luck and that she would always return if needing anything. He was happy. Technically this was his first sale ever.
At this moment you pulled over at the other side of the street and jumped off of your SUV. An excited sound left Jungkook's mouth and he beckoned. Remembering to look side to side, you crossed the street, walking straight to him.
"Hey, cutie." You gave him a shiny grin. "I've come to pick you up."
"Hm?" He was surprised, he had walked home by himself everyday since day one, and you didn't say today would be different. "Ok. Want to wait inside till my shift ends?"
You chuckled, looking at your wristwatch.
"Your shift ends in three minutes."
"Really?" His eyes widened, and his hands pulled your arm towards him - consequently you whole - so he could look at the hours too. "Wow. I didn't see the time passing..."
"Go change and pick your things." You bossed, releasing your arm from his hold just to mess up his hair.
He nodded and got back inside, fast stepping to the back of the store. Through the glass in the window you waved to the other two employees, who smiled and waved back. Ryujin seemed torn between running to you to greet you right and giving you love, or staying at her post doing her job, in the end she sent you several different hearts with her hands.
When Jungkook got back, now in his everyday large clothes instead of the shop uniform, you were exactly  on the same spot waiting for him, but now with two ice cream cones.
"I was thinking here, you said 'do you want to wait inside bla bla bla...', but like, I'm your boss, JK. If I wanted to pick you up earlier I could. You know?" You said, talking betwing licks on your ice cream.
Jungshook looked at you with a half-open mouth.
"You wouldn't." He stated.
"Why not?" You took his hand to cross the street.
"Isn't that abuse of power or something? I don't think you look like someone who has favorites... Like, you are too pragmatic, too good girl for that."
You looked offended, as if he had slapped you. You entered the car and waited for him to do the same and close the door behind him.
"First of all... The whole town already knows you, know you are my roommate. Everybody already thinks you are a favorite of mine, so no one would be surprised if I pamper you in public, cuz I do it all the time?? Aaaand...!" You aggressively put your seatbelt on."You know very well I'm part of a group considered a terrorist by the government, which automatically takes from me any title similar to good girl."
"The government is dumb. You are a hero, and this absolutely returns your title as a good girl and its variables." He raised a cocky eyebrow at you.
You started the car and turned it off again, looking at him incredulously.
"On one of our first talks, I literally told you about how I got expelled from the only school I attended in my whole life... I only went to college because my parents are rich and know important people." You shrugged at the end.
"That's not true. You are intelligent and had exemplary grades during college, I heard Jackson talking about it ..." He pointed out, before you could question how he knows it." Besides, you were expelled for protecting your family, and that is heroic to me."
"It was actually revenge and pure violence... But I'm dropping this conversation." You started the car again and it started to move just to stop right then at the red light. "Put some music on."
"Ok." Jungkook obliged. "But seriously, Y/N... Why did you get this offended at being called a good girl? Do you want to be a bad girl?"
Your face heated up. One month ago he didn't even know what playing bickering was and now this...
"Shut up!" You yelled.
He gave a loud laugh, losing it with your flustered face, and all you could do was to laugh along with him. ______________________________________________________________________________ Instead of going home, as Jungkook imagined at first, you had different plans for today. You took the road and in forty minutes you were in the neighboring city parking in front of a movie theater - the kind of thing you don’t have in your city because it’s so small. It was Saturday night and you had reason to celebrate.
"Wow, I've never been to the movies before... What are we watching?"
"You can choose." You pointed to the mural of posters and opening times of the movies. "We can also choose where we'll get dinner."
"I want pizza." He bluntly said.
You chuckled. Of course he wants pizza.
You went to buy snacks and let him get the tickets.Waiting for the big bucket of popcorn, you were humming a song that has been stuck in your head all day and drumming your fingers around the candy display case, considering buying a chocolate bar.
"Are we celebrating something? You look really excited today..." Jungkook came back, stopping by your side, looking you up and down, your whole body expression saying happy puppy to him.
You smiled as if he had catched you on something.
"Is just... You ended your first week of work ever... I finally got what I wanted from my job... We are like, both successful, gorgeous, young and free. We deserve to fill our stomachs with buttered popcorn, gummy bears, pizza and coke."
A wide smile spreaded on his beautiful face, cute teeth showing up and making your own smile wide too.
"What did you want from your job?" He picked the bucket of popcorn from the attendant's hands when you didn't notice it. "Thank you."
"I'll tell you later." You dismissed the question with a hand wave. "What movie we gonna see?"
Jungkook pointed to a dark sign with a putrefied hand coming out of a half-open wardrobe, blood dripping from the doorknob.
"A horror movie? Do you want me to scream in public?" You laughed in self-depreciation.
"I never watched one of these. It should be fun. Don't worry, I will hold your hand." Jungkook inflated his chest and indeed held your hand.
You were actually worried about him, not you. It is not your custom to watch horror movies, usually you only watch the ones with the most hype, but you know they can be very violent, and maybe your cute Jungkook still can't deal with it... Instead of voicing your concerns, you decided to pay attention to see if it really was necessary to worry at all. First sign that he was more uncomfortable than he should be, you would leave the theater.
You reciprocated his hol and scoffed.
"I'm holding your hand." _______________________________________________________________ At the end, your concerns weren't necessary. The movie was kind of trashy, besides some jump scares that got you screaming, and some disgusting, gross special effects that made you feel slightly nauseous, the bloody scenes were funnier than violent, drawing some good laughs from Jungkook. Still, he spent the entire movie holding your hand, as he promised. At the pizzeria the two of you ate until you had to open the button on your pants, still laughing at how bad the movie was, and how the couple sitting in a row in front of you were startled by silly things and made everything funnier. Jungkook was radiant, and that was what you wanted.
"A month from now when I get my first payment, we have to come back here. And I'll pay." Jungkook declared. "What reminds me, what would you say about your job?"
"Hm..." You looked around. The place was considerably crowded, normal movement for a Saturday night, your table was a little isolated, but not enough for you to have this conversation here. "My... friends wanted me to work with a guy. And I finally got the opportunity."
At first Jungkook thought of Jimin and Tae, but then the message sinked in. It was a secret organization's thing.
"Let's go?" You got up from your chair.
"Sure." Jungkook's eyes were big with curiosity. He didn't expect you to tell him about such things, but now you were implying the rest would be said in a more private place.
You two got back to the car with the pizza box with what you couldn’t eat whole and a stuffed animal that Jungkook got from a hook machine on the first try. You were feeling tired and sleepy, not in the mood for driving at all - maybe you should teach Jungkook how to drive for moments like that. You didn't put on some music or asked Jungkook to do so as you usually do.
"The organization has been investigating some lawyers, suspected of facilitating illegal hybrid purchases and transfers, and of covering up such crimes. And I basically need to get proof to frame this guy and expose who he works with." Your eyes were glued on the dark road. "Now I'm going to work directly with him."
"He is a lawyer from your firm?"
"Not yet. He is in the process of being the new partner in the firm. I worked hard to be part of the process or to be designated as his assistant." You explained, still too focused on driving. "I just have to do one mission. Whatever you want to call it. The rest is up to the organization. But for that I need to travel, to work in person, for about a week."
Oh." Jungkook looked at his hands.
Until now he hadn't thought about being alone, by himself. But of course at some point it would happen, you can't live exclusively according to him. He's not the only thing in your life, as he feels you are in his. Suddenly a week seemed like an eternity. Suddenly your apartment looked huge.
"Now I need to know what you want to do." You continued, not noticing the change in his mood.
"What do you mean?"
You made a funny face. It was like you were making a lot of effort to talk about it in a serious tone, but he could see the happy puppy in you again, and it made him relax a little bit, even though he didn't understand why.
"I thought of taking you with me, of course. But you may not want to... Which is ok too. You can stay at home taking care of things and going to work normally... Or you can stay with Taetae and Jimin... which would surely make them happy... " You chattered.
"I want to go with you. I’ll go where you go." He decided, almost solemnly. That sentence gave you both a nostalgic feeling, even though it hasn't been much more than a month since he first said it to you, and your lives changed overnight. You smiled, glad that he chose what you wanted him to.
"Awesome."  Your finger drummed on the steering wheel. "Even if it's a business trip, we're going to have some free time, so I chose a super amazing hotel with lots of things for us to have fun together, and for you to have something to do when I'm at the office. Besides... There are others things that you have to decide..."
Jungkook was already excited about the idea of having fun with you on a trip.
"What is it?"
You sighed, as if you were collecting courage to say what was on your head.
"I am thinking about it for a while now... And my friend from the organization suggested it would be a good idea too. If you were in agreement..." You hesitated. "Would you like to help me?"
Jungkook didn't answer. A stiff silence settled in. In the absence of an answer, you panicked, your fingers tightening the steering wheel.
"It wouldn't be really dangerous, because my task is simple... I would never put you in danger, JK. I don't even get involved in really dangerous situations. It's just because you know about us. I ...I'm sorry."
The silence prolonged.
It was selfish, but you saw in the opportunity of Jungkook working with you in the organization a little of your loneliness fading. Loneliness that is created when you keep a secret even from those you love the most, like your family and the guy who always says he wants to spend the rest of his life by your side. Even your best friends since childhood... Even if you don't hide the truth from them, you can't tell everything either... Your fears and concerns. With Jungkook I would be different. He would be your partner. You could lean on him. It is selfish because you promised him a new life, of peace and tranquility, without even a shadow of the horrible things he lived in the past, and you still don't even know exactly how horrible they were. And in your secret work, bad things can always appear, in one way or another.
"Anyways... One thing we are going to do for sure is bungee jumping. And I think you will love it." You cheered, masking any disappointment you could be feeling.
You chose this double life for a much bigger reason than yourself. You knew from the beginning how it would be. So let's push those bad feelings back inside and move on.
"I'm really... grateful." Jungkook whispered, uncertain voice reaching your ears. "To you, and the organization. I truly think you guys are heros. I would like to be a hero too."
"JK..."
"I trust you." He didn't let you interrupt. "I know that you would never put me in danger or in a situation against my will. You respect me. So I don't have concerns about it. I just don't think I'm going to be very useful... I don't know how to do anything... except to fight. And I will never do that again."
Your hand reached to his on his lap, and as it had become natural his fingers intertwined with yours.
"You don't have to worry about that. I just basically need two little things from you, and I'm sure you got it. One of them you are doing right now."
"And is it?" He was confused. He was doing absolutely nothing. Right?
"I need you to be handsome and charming, just like you are doing now, but in a button-up shirt." You winked at him, making him feel hot, and totally thankful for the darkness so you couldn't see him bright blush. "And that you watch a door for me."
"I-I can do that." ______________________________________________________________________________ The sun didn't even rise yet and you are programming the better route in your gps, sunglasses on the crown of your head, sleep still on your puffy eyes. The suitcases were already in the trunk, and the snacks on the backseat, but for some reason your travel partner was not yet seated beside you, the passenger door he forgot open, letting the morning air in, covering your skin with goosebumps. Is too early to be in a hurry, so even though you have a schedule to follow, you patiently reclined your head on the back of the seat and waited. Jungkook got out the back door of the flower shop, checking twice if he locked the door and turned on the alarm, and then ran to the car. In his hands were his keys, cell phone - that you gave him when he first started working -, and his new wallet - papers and old photograph inside.
"All ready, Y/N!" He entered and closed the door, happy smile on his also puffy face. He was about to put on his seat belt. "Wait!"
"What?" You said in your morning voice - you don't like to speak for the first hour after you wake up at all.
"I forgot my toothbrush." He was already with his hand on the door to go back and get it.
You chuckled and started the motor.
"Sorry, JK. We can buy a new one later... Now we need to hit the road." __________________________________________________________
Just like the suitcases and everything else you would need to travel, at the night before you and Jungkook prepared a travel playlist, specifically songs with road vibes and good for singing at the top of your lungs - your plan was to make him sing along with you to finally praise the beautiful voice you already know he has. If it didn't work, the next plan would be karaoke. It worked. In fact, at start your were all by yourself, you always sing in the car, so he didn't saw it as a invitation to join your personal show, preferring to eat m&m's separated by color while watching you, some hours later tho, motivated perhaps by a specific song or by the energy you established, he gave in, and now you two were having so much fun. The lyrics he didn't know - like the 70s and 80s ones you like because of your mother - you explained about the artists and bands, detailing things about their careers and why you like them, he likes it because he knows more about his job an about you, and the next second you started the next song that you both knew how to sing, there you were joyingly screaming again. You forgot to compliment his voice.
With his mouth full himself, Jungkook filled yours with mini carrots and slices of apple cutted in bunny shape. It was about 10 already, your but was square and legs were sore, you needed to stretch, not to mention your bladder, which should be twice as big as you needed to go to the bathroom.
As if he was reading your mind, the boy beside you whined.
"Y/Nnnnnnnn... I need to pee."
"Me too." You whined back. "Can you wait a little bit more? I planned a stop, and we're almost there."
"Yeah... Sure." He smiled, opening another can of energy drink.
Your look went from the road to him, from him to the can, and from the can to the road again.
"I can't see how drinking another one will help with the bathroom issue..." You mocked.
"I'm also thirsty." He answered as if it was obvious.
Almost half an hour later you parked at a gas station beside the road. As you jumped up the suv, a pursehanging on your arm - with toilet paper and other hygiene items that toilets for community use by the roads don't usually have, you are a prepared woman -, you checked your location to make sure it was the right place. You were supposed to be at a specific gas station at 11am. It only had two bathrooms. One was under maintenance, and the other had a broken lock. At least it wasn't as filthy as you expected it to be.
You handed the purse to Jungkook.
"Go first. I'll guard the door for you." You said.
Jungkook just obeyed, having taken another can and a half of soda after the energy drink. You watched the movement of people and cars, a few filling up with gas, customers at the convenience store, truck drivers stopping for lunch at the restaurant next door. There weren't many people. And you haven't seen anyone paying attention to you.
"Are you looking for something?" Jungkook quietly asked, already beside you.
"Oh. Nothing... I just zoned out. My turn." You run inside the bathroom, remembering your physiological needs.
Back at the car, Jungkook expected you to continue the journey right away, instead you grabbed the steering wheel, still looking through the window with a look so intent that a little line formed between your eyebrows. Jungkook didn't know what was bothering you out of nowhere, but he was willing to help.
"Y/N?" He put a lock of your hair behind your ear so softly that you hardly felt it at all. You looked at him, face unconsciously relaxing. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just a little headache." It wasn't a lie, until he asked you hadn't noticed, but your head was throbbing a little. "We ran out of water, right? I'm going to buy more."
"Want me to go?" He volunteered.
You considered it. He is just so sweet. But not all places are friendly to hybrids on their own, even documented or free ones, you didn't want to find out if the convenience store was friendly or not in the worst way. It was going to ruin the mood of the trip. Strangers mistreating Jungkook for no reason is always the last thing you want in your day.
"Thanks, sweetie." You shook your head negatively. "I'll be right back."
Jungkook followed you with his eyes as you jumped off the car, walking straight with your hands on your jacket pockets, till you disappeared into the store. Last night when both of you were packing your things, you showed him a 'first aid kit bag' you prepared with several remedies you could need, remembering it now, for sure there's something for your headache there. Wanting to help, he got out and opened the trunk.
You said you would put it in your suitcase... Can he open it? Was it an invasion of privacy? Maybe the kit was in the suitcase's outer compartment, and there would be no issue...
A shiver went up his back and a growl formed in his throat, but it didn't come out. Someone was behind him, terribly close, and with a confused smell that made it impossible to know whether they were human or hybrid. Jungkook did not hear the person's footsteps approaching, and that was fearsome.
"Don't turn around, don't try running, and don't scream. Act naturally." A deep voice of a male spoke.
Despite it being low, there was so much force and authority in this voice that Jungkook couldn't desobay. His eyes reached to the store, looking for you.
"Are you Jungkook?" The voice calmly asked.
How could this guy know his name? What does he want? Different thoughts crossed Jungkook's mind, none optimistic, all scary. He wanted you to show up to save him, and at the same time, without knowing exactly what was going on and the risks, he wanted you not to come back, so you wouldn't be hurt. What should I do?
"I'm." He answered, voice firm to not show fear. A voice he is used to using almost all the time, but since you came into his life, he didn't need it anymore.
The man behind him hummed. Jungkook concluded that he must be a hybrid after all, because he had the urge that the guy was smelling him, but he couldn't say for sure, it could just be in his head. How could this guy's voice be so calm and trustful if his presence had all this power that made Jungkook unable to move a muscle? How conflicting, the feelings this caused in Jungkook were unheard of for him, a kind of fear that he never felt before, the fear that his former master imposed through threats and punishments...
Jungkook searched around, wishing the man wouldn't notice it... Somebody... Anybody... At least one person would notice that there was something wrong going on there, and if Jungkook made eye contact, if he managed to ask for help in any way, everything would be fine. But nobody seemed to see them there, nobody noticed. The gas station employees continued to work normally, the customers entering and leaving their cars, totally unaware... How frustrating.
"I'm a Y/N's friend." The man throatily said. "Nice to meet you, JK."
Jungkook's eyes wided. Friend. One of those friends of yours?
The sound of something being placed on the floor caught Jungkook's attention down, next to his feet was now a small black backpack.
"This is for her. Take care, it's fragile."
"What is it?" Jungkook questioned, not trusting at all - he wouldn't give you anything without being sure it's safe - but strangely relaxed for such an unusual situation.
A low, funny sound came from the guy. Was he laughing?
"Something you guys will need." He simply said. One moment of silence and Jungkook thought the guy was gone, but then he spoke again, now his voice seemed a lot less impersonal. "Tell her she's beautiful today. As always. Good luck."
It was not possible to hear the guy's footsteps leaving, just like when he appeared, but Jungkook felt the absence of an extra presence after a few seconds. The guy was some kind of ninja. He bent down to pick up the backpack and slung it over one shoulder, looking around, trying to find someone who could be the intimidating guy... But he found no one. Without thinking much, he took the kit and closed the trunk, returning to the passenger seat, still looking over his shoulder.
A few minutes later you got back, still with a frown in your face.
"I definitely need an aspirin... You got the kit already!" You slammed the door by accident and cringed at the loud noise, you hate to slam your car door.  "Thank you, sweetie... What is it?"
You pointed to the backpack, and Jungkook looked at you with doe eyes. Only now you noticed he was looking frightened.
"Your friend told me it is to you."
Your eyes widened as well and your hand reached your mouth. You were instructed to find someone from the organization at this gas station to receive the necessary equipment for your task. So you were stressed about nobody showing up at the appointed time, it even gave you a headache. Even though you involved Jungkook, you didn't expect them to contact him instead of you. Actually you forgot to tell him about it at all.
"Oh my... JK, I'm sorry I didn't warn you. I guess I still haven't gotten used to having a partner..."
Usually, in this kind of situation, you are all alone or needing to be sneaky around your friend and family. It was out of habit.
"It's ok." Jungkook gave you a sympathetic smile. "What do I do with it?"
"Put it on the backseat." You shrugged and started the car.
"Aren't you checking on it?" Jungkook was surprised. What if it was a bomb? You guys have used bombs before...
"Not here. First we leave." Suddenly you were on your pretty good mood again. "Can you give me an aspirin, please?"
Jungkook gave you the pill and you drank almost an entire bottle of water with it. A car honked past you, because you slowed down, but you just ignored it.
"Did my friend say anything else?" You asked, putting on some low music once again.
Jungkook looked through the window, wishing his cheeks wouldn't get red just because he agrees with what he was about to say. He couldn't look at you to say it when the wind was making your hair move to all directions as if it has his own life, or the sun on your skin makes it shine, or your eyes showing above your sunglasses as you look at him. It wasn't fair.
"He said you are beautiful today.... As always.'
A loud, ringing laugh escaped your lips, forming an incredulous smile.
"I can't believe Yoongi came personally..." You laughed again. "Now make sense... He was checking on you... He didn't let you see him, right?"
"No. He stayed behind me the whole time."
You nodded vigorously, as if that obviously confirmed what you were saying. Jungkook was confused, not understanding anything.
"Who is Yoongi?" He uncertanly asked.
Unlike when you talk about your friends of the organization, almost as if you were telling a story of people who do not exist, perhaps because they are people you work with but generally don't know, neither name nor face, when talking about this Yoongi was much like how you talk about Jimin or Taehyung, a real friend. Only with something more... An admiration that Jungkook hadn't yet heard so present in your voice.
"Min Yoongi." You said, and it was almost possible to see the fire on your eyes. "He is not just one of my friends... He is the boss."
Now it makes sense. It wasn't a ninja. It was the super hero. That is why all thatauthority in his voice and the powerful presence, totally intimidating, but at the same time Jungkook did not feel threatened as he felt so many times before... because there was no real threat. Suddenly Jungkook wasn't frightened or uncomfortable with the situation anymore, he was euphoric. He had met the boss of heroes who save hybrids, and soon he would be one too. Now it seemed a little more real that he could help others like him, just like this Min Yoongi and you.
"What are you smiling at?" You brought him back from his daydream with a teasing smirk.
"It's just... It is exciting." He was clearly excited.
Your smirk wided, eyes on the road. Your partner feels it just like you, and you almost couldn't hold yourself back. You never gave a name to it, and now Jungkook used a perfect word to describe it, and since you can't get out of your head. This secret job... secret life... It really does make you feel like a hero. Sometimes you feel guilty for feeling that way, since you were born on the bad side of history, you are human and humans are the villains. Helping hybrids to fight for justice and gain their freedom is nothing more than your obligation... But with Jungkook you can feel how you want, because you are sure that he will understand and never judge.
"Isn't it, JK?"
You two exchanged a meaningful look. The bond between you becoming stronger without you realizing it.
Just moments later you both excitedly increase the volume of the music that just started so you can sing at the top of your lungs again and again.
__________________________________________________
Tag List: @stayunderthelights  @deolly  @panconte​ @serendipityoreuphoria​ @madygswich @namjoonies-dimple @givebuckysomelove @imluckybitches @hoseokslefteyebrow  @yzkyzkuniverse @flaring-vibes @justpeachyjoon @narcissism-iskey​ @angeltothecore​ @tiberiaxs @minikolima @chaoticbabigrl @btsxdoll​ 
If you want me to add you to the list, please let me know :)
Tumblr media
215 notes · View notes
godaime-obito · 6 years
Text
Kagatobi Modern Ageswap Ch 4
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
there will be a sort of fifth chapter, but im planning for some nsfw in it, so consider it a bonus chapter
Tobirama has reorganized his books, notes, papers and various writing utensils four times now. Kagami is coming over in less than ten minutes to help him study for his bar exam, and in preparation he had to move his entire set up out of his bedroom to the more appropriate location that is the living room. It would not do to take his guest straight to his bedroom his first time over. That can come later, not that he’s been considering such things. He reorders his highlighters one last time before going to the kitchen to start making tea. It’s important to be properly hospitable for guests who are actually invited.
The tea is still seeping when Tobirama hears a knock. Isn’t nice when people knock instead of just picking the lock, even though Kagami probably could if he wanted. Wait. Is intelligent-people-who-know-how-to-lock-pick a type? Do he and Hashirama share a type? God, he doesn’t want to think about that. Putting that horrifying tangent from his mind he walks briskly to answer the door.
Tobirama pulls open the door, and steps to the side to let Kagami slip past him. “Hello. Would you like tea?” he asks.
“That would be nice,” Kagami answers, slipping past to sit his satchel near the work space Tobirama set up. He must have come straight from his office at the university if he still has that satchel. It’s where he keeps the papers he’s grading and such.
“I hope this isn’t too inconvenient for you,” he calls from the kitchen, “I’m sure you’re busy at the university right now.” Tobirama gathers the tea onto a tray and quickly heads back out. It’s best not to waste any time, especially if he’s holding him up.
“I wouldn’t have agreed to it if it was. I’m not too busy for a friend,” Kagami chuckles back.
“Of course,” Tobirama agrees. He’s mostly placated, but he is still a little concerned Kagami is just too nice to turn down helping him. Tobirama reassures himself that he’s been a professor for a long time, and can manage his time well enough to know when he can afford an evening away from his office. He puts the tray down on the coffee table feeling more confident, and sits down where he arranged his things. Kagami slides closer to him on the couch as he reaches for his tea, and their thighs press lightly together. Which is only a minor distraction really, so he doesn’t pull away. Neither does Kagami.
The additional insight does prove helpful during the study session, both from tips gained from experience or just the aid of an outside perspective, and Tobirama is glad he took him up on his offer to study together. Maybe he’ll give Hashirama a key after all, since his visit had some positive impact. Not that he’ll admit that even if he gives him a key. It wouldn’t do to encourage him.
“Thank you Kagami,” he says, and stands up from his spot on the couch. “You were very helpful.”
His friend smiles up at him, and stands as well, gathering up his satchel. “No problem! Feeling ready to go take that exam right now?” he teases.
“Perhaps not right now,” Tobirama replies, smiling slightly. “I am rather confident I’ll be ready when the exam time actually arrives,” he assures.
The end of the time the agreed to meet is over, and he’s sure Kagami has other things to do, but he is, perhaps, not eager to see him leave. The two of them move towards the door together. In front of it he stops, and lingers.
“I believe my family will be meeting the weekend after the exam. To celebrate. You should come,” Tobirama states. He meant for that to be more of a question.
“I mean, do you want to come?” That’s better.
“Of course! Just tell me the time and place and I’m sure I can make it,” Kagami answers, giggling at Tobirama’s slightly subpar communication skills. He would be more upset at being laughed at if it weren’t such a nice laugh.
“I’ll text you as soon as it’s decided,” he says, and finally stops his stalling to open the door.
Kagami slips passed him. He brushes against his arm as he goes, before stopping and turning to face him in the doorway.
“I hate to go already, when it feels like I just got here, but I’ll see you soon. I hope,” Kagami says softly.
“I hope so too,” Tobirama replies equally soft. Pulling together his nerve, he firmly corrects himself, “I know we’ll see each other soon.”
Then, quickly as to not run out of nerve, he presses their lips together. It’s firm, but chaste. He can feel the tips of his ears go red as they pull apart. Kagami smiles at him, broader than any of his earlier smiles, as they look at each other, and it makes Tobirama smile too.
“Just to be certain,” he says, “we are dating now right?”
Kagami snorts at him. “Yes.”
He leaves then, heading down the hall. Before Kagami turns the corner out of sight, he looks back at him and winks. Tobirama’s blush renews, but he’s too happy to have confirmed the study date as an actual date to mind.
It will take about six weeks to find out if he actually passed the bar exam, but only two days later the celebration his family planned has already arrived. Perhaps they think having his first try over with is worth celebrating even if they don’t know if he’ll have to try again. Perhaps they’re just that confident in him. Most likely it’s mix of the two. They’ve made reservations at a restaurant for seven. It will be himself, his brothers, Mito, Touka, and Kagami, which considering how involved Hashirama was in the planning is a tiny number. He should probably thank Mito and Touka for keeping him from inviting their estranged parents, or Izuna, or Madara. He cannot stand him, no matter how many ‘bonding sessions’ they’re tricked into.
“Tobirama!” He knows that voice. Why are Hashirama’s only settings yelling, and dramatic whispering? Tobirama knows he must speak normally to Mito at least. Does he do this just to irritate him? He’s having second thoughts about giving him the key.
“Hello Hashirama,” he sighs out. He is then promptly manhandled into the restaurant where he and Mito listen to his brother yell as the others arrive. He’s not sure what exactly he’s talking about, but he has been counting every time he says ‘Madara’ which is up to eight already. Perhaps he should start kicking Hashirama whenever he mentions him more than 5 times in an hour.
Kagami shows up last, and slides into the open seat at his left. Hashirama is sitting at Tobirama’s right, and reaches right across his personal space to shake his hand and gives his usual overenthusiastic greeting.
“Hello Professor,” Mito says. She’s smirking. Tobirama is about to need a distraction, isn’t he?
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she continues, “I’ve heard you are the cooooolest professor.”
Kagami grins at him, wiggling his eyebrows. “Is that so?” he coos.
“This is Mito,” Tobirama says, ignoring his question. “My wonderful, kind, sister-in-law.” No sarcasm there, no ma’am. “That’s my cousin Touka, my brother Itama, and my brother Kawarama,” he continues, nodding to each of them.
“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Kagami says, switching back to a more serious expression. Although not that serious, it is Kagami after all.
The dinner goes surprisingly well, and he seems to get along with Tobirama’s family, even if their main bonding activity seems to be try-to-make-Tobirama-blush. How does Kagami remember so many things he did as an undergrad, surely, he wasn’t that memorable? At least Mito doesn’t bring up that one thing that happened his junior year as an undergrad. If Kagami found out Tobirama would be too embarrassed to look him in the eye for a decade at least.
He’s been waiting to tell anyone that he and Kagami are dating until today, so that he could say it to them all at once, in person. However, he’s been putting it off all night. Hashirama is going to cry on him, but it must be done eventually. Tobirama waits until the bill has come and they’ve decided who’s paying for how much, before finally deciding it cannot be put off any longer.
He clears his throat, to catch everyone’s attention. “Kagami and I are dating,” he announces as soon as it’s the table is quiet. There. Nice and to the point.
Hashirama appears to be momentarily stunned.
“I had sex with Izuna at Hashirama’s 25th birthday party,” Touka says.
“What?” Hashirama says faintly.
“I assumed we were announcing things everybody in the family already knows,” she says in her best faux innocent voice.
“I didn’t know either of those things,” he responds. Loudly. His faintness has already swung around to dramatic tears. “My birthday party!” he cries.
“Forget about the party darling. That was years ago,” Mito cuts in, “What about Tobi’s boyfriend?” Tobirama is not sure if he appreciates her getting him back on track.
Hashirama’s head snaps towards him so fast he’s surprised it didn’t break. “Brother,” he shouts. He throws himself sideways at Tobirama, crushing him in a hug. “Your heart’s unfrozen,” he sobs.
“It was never frozen to begin with.”
“You’ve discovered love,” Hashirama continues without pause, ignoring Tobirama’s attempt to interrupt. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Be happy for me without getting me wet, and crushing my ribs!” Tobirama responds. “Stop crying all over me and let go,” he hisses quietly, “You are making a scene in public.”
“Sorry,” Hashirama says, sniffling as he switches into dramatic whispering mode. Kagami is giggling, and Tobirama really wishes he could be angry at that laugh.
“We shouldn’t all linger,” Tobirama says. The bill had been successfully paid during the commotion, thank you Itama. “We’ve got to go,” he adds, heading towards the exit with Kagami. He may be running away. At this point he must admit ‘running from social situations’ is his main character flaw. He will definately hear about this from Itama and Kawarama later, in a traditional younger sibling fashion, and he’ll have to mail Hashirama the key. Oh well.
15 notes · View notes
feelingsdusk-writes · 6 years
Text
Runes and all kinds of things
Chapter 3
Stiles is angry. No, scratch that. Angry doesn’t even begin to cover the way he’s feeling right now. He’s livid with white-hot rage and his fury burns with the power of a thousand blazing suns and he’s outraged and he’s…
“… you know how I feel about her and that she doesn’t want to talk to me, and now I find out that she’s coming here every day? What the hell, man?!“
… going to seriously start considering murdering Scott where he stands if he doesn’t shut up and leave.
“I think I was perfectly clear,” he bites out instead, his jaw beginning to ache with the way he’s clenching it. Because, wishful thinking apart, murdering Scott is not a viable option, if only because he can't get out of bed without help yet. “But in case I wasn’t: get the fuck out of my room and don’t come back.“
“Stiles!”
He grits his teeth. The door is open so he doesn’t want to yell because, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t enjoy causing a scene. Especially so in a public setting where it would reflect badly on his dad, because he’s done enough of that already with the whole Jackson debacle, thank you very much. It doesn't matter if his dad knows the truth now (even if that, admittedly, is a relief), because to the rest of the town the sheriff's son is going down a path of delinquency and if the man can't put his own son on the right track, how can he be in charge of an entire county? Stiles bets there are already countless malicious rumours about why he got shot by Principal Argent (whom they viewed as a very respectable member of the society) and he's not going to add fuel to the particular pyre that is his dad and his reputation. That's what matters right now.
“Are you even listening?!”
From what he has been able to discern from Scott’s ramblings, he had been waiting to find Stiles alone so he wouldn’t be kicked out of the room. Normally, Stiles would applaud any kind of sneakiness coming from Scott and consider it a personal achievement... And maybe said sneakiness, his perseverance and a heartfelt apology would have even softened Stiles' stance... Except Scott's original idea of apologizing had quickly flown out the window the moment he had recognized several items in the room to be Allison’s, which made said apology a half-assed one at best.
Now, if Stiles hadn’t wanted to listen to the apology, he sure as hell didn’t want to listen to unfounded and undeserved recriminations. Again, the problem? He can’t move, so he can’t leave. And when he had called the nurse, surprise surprise, it turned out that it was Melissa on call. That hadn’t stopped Stiles from trying to have Scott removed from the premises, but Melissa had basically told them to not bother the staff with petty childish squabbles and to sort things out already.
That was ten minutes ago and no matter what he says Scott won’t leave him alone. He doesn’t seem to understand that a “let’s forget it, ok?” is as insufficient as using a band-aid to patch a severed limb. And that was before his Allison related rant and wild not-so-subtle accusations.
Stiles is at the end of his tether. His father won’t be back for a couple of hours and with how much convincing it took to make him leave to go home and rest, Stiles is not going to call him back. Allison would be able to reign Scott in too, but she's gone for the day, so there won’t be any help on that front. Calling the nurses will probably get him the same results, so that venue is closed too. His body is hurting everywhere with the way he’s tensing and the pounding in his head is getting steadily worse, to the point that he finds it difficult to keep his eyes open more than bare slits. He wants Scott gone.
Now.
It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment Scott is ranting, the next he's not. Out of nowhere a hand clamps like a vice on the back of Scott’s neck, cutting the rambling abruptly in favor of startled spluttering. Said appendage is connected to none other than Peter Hale, who wastes no time unceremoniously sending Scott out of the room with so much ease that it should be considered insulting. The man stands there for no more than three seconds, his back to Stiles, before closing the door quietly. Scott doesn’t try to come in again.
Peter moves through the room like he owns it and Stiles opens his mouth, praying through the haze of pain that when words finally come out of it, they’re at least vaguely sarcastic and scathing and convey how much he didn’t need the rescue (pride over everything and all that jazz). Then Peter closes the curtains and the light goes down a few notches.
Stiles is so not proud of the relieved moan that escapes him.
It takes him a few moments to notice that Peter has sat down on a chair and is now fiddling with the PSP, apparently settling himself in for a lengthy stay. Peter snorts and sends him an amused all-knowing smirk (that, despite the pain, Stiles has the need to wipe off) at the zombies game before putting the device aside. He then fishes a book out of his bag that would have Stiles drooling and making gimme hands at anyone on any good day and, after opening it, he lays a hand casually on Stiles' outstretched arm.
“That’s two, sweetheart.”
(Damn him, some very far away internal voice whines in Stiles.)
The teen grumbles something uncomplimentary but is too busy enjoying the drug-like effect the pain leaching thingie has. That it didn’t even cross Scott’s mind stings a little and he tries not to think about it. Yeah, Scott doesn’t know how to do it, but what hurts here is that he didn't even consider it.
------
When he wakes up the next morning, Peter is gone but the bag is still there, obviously left behind on purpose. It's well within reach and Stiles doubts that's a coincidence. It takes a little effort to lift it onto the bed but he manages it eventually. When he opens it, the only thing that stops him from making an embarrassing hight-pitched sound is his father’s prone figure on the chair. He’s torn between giddy elation at the contents of the bag and exasperation at the werewolf's gall, because those books are either a bribe to get something or he's trying to butter up Stiles, there's no doubt about it.
About an hour later, during which he divides his attention between the books and Lucía Paola's misadventures, Allison arrives. His father takes advantage of her presence to hit home again after some nagging from Stiles. Allison, for her part, seems to lose part of her facade when John leaves, anger and frustration seeping through the placid mask. Stiles is pretty baffled because it's a great contrast with her previously calm attitude, just the day before. One doesn’t need to be a genius to guess where Scott went after being kicked out. After some time in comfortable silence, she finally sighs.
“I’m gonna take a wild guess” she drawls laying her chin on the palm of her hand, “and think that yesterday Scott gifted you with a visit as delightful as mine, yes?” Stiles’ lips twitch. “Or at least that’s what I got out of the load of self-righteous bullshit he was spouting after I told him how you helped me when Gerard tried to get me out of the way.“
And right there, stated with just one word, lies the problem and they both know it. Self-righteous. Scott doesn’t feel he’s done wrong or that he should have done things differently. He thinks that going behind everyone’s back was justified because it was for a good cause (be it defeating Gerard or getting Allison back or being cured) and that because of that everything is right.
In Allison’s case, does he think he’s pressuring her with his attitude? What? Of course not! He’s just letting her know that he still loves her and that he’ll wait for her and that he doesn’t blame her because he understands completely… But the thing is Allison does feel she’s to be held accountable for what she’s done. Because she tried to punish people that didn’t deserve it, because she let herself be manipulated and did horrible things. And Scott may be able to live with it but she can’t. Besides, the way he puts her on a pedestal makes her uncomfortable and stressed because it’s like she has to be perfect to match his view of her, which sometimes makes her feel terribly inadequate and insecure. In a way that is what’s so relaxing for her about Stiles. There are no expectations, just an easy companionship where they both acknowledge the other’s bullshit even if they don’t always call it. Also, to be honest, the way Scott sometimes favors her in detriment of others leaves her with secondhand embarrassment and the need to apologize on his behalf.
In Stiles’ case, does he feel bad about him getting hurt? Yes, of course, but not in the sense of feeling responsible. And Stiles does believe he’s partly to blame because by not keeping him in the loop and actively omitting things and lying, Scott left him vulnerable, left him blind. But to be honest that’s not what bothers him the most, his fucked up priorities are. Before, he expected Stiles to understand and agree when he put his mother first, which, okay, yeah. But the problem is that nowadays everything goes before Stiles: his mother, Allison, Isaac, his wolfy problems, his dates… He calls because he’s trying to keep Derek and himself floating above eight feet of water while the kanima prowls around? Stiles, I can’t right now! I’m having dinner with my future in-laws, can’t you see this is important?! He tries to find a way to cope with the fact that he’s basically destroyed his father’s career with the added bonus of what’s left of his relationship with him? Dude, I can’t believe my mother punished me! I had a date with Allison! What a drag… can you come over to hear me complain about it for hours while you try to force Physics theory down my throat so I don’t flunk? She didn’t say no Stiles after all. Bottom line, either Scott takes him for granted or he feels that Stiles owes him because he got him bitten. And if it’s the second, is he planning on milking it for the rest of his life? Don't get him wrong, Stiles acknowledges his part of the blame in that, but he also sees that Scott got a lot out of it. But then again Scott takes that for granted too, like it’s some sort of compensation for the terrible thing that is not being human anymore. Is it a wonder that he rubs the born wolves entirely wrong with that kind of attitude?
For whichever of those reasons it is, the truth is that both Allison and Stiles concur in that he needs a good reality check.
“Did Peter Hale really threaten him?” she murmurs as her attention gets caught on Marco Enrique's shirtless form as he tends to the horses. She lets out an appreciative hum and Stiles sniggers when that interested look turns into a frown because the view gets interrupted by Mariana Estrella.
“More like tossed him out of here and glared… looked at him," he inserts a Superman eye powers motion with his hands, "intensely into submission. From what I saw, Peter probably doesn’t think him enough of a challenge to deserve a full glare.“ He snorts before groaning. “He implied I owe him. Again,” he whines despairingly as he throws an arm over his face.
He then grumbles mutinously and gives her a dirty look at her snickers when he finally tells her what happened exactly, one of the books clutched in his hands. To her credit, she doesn’t comment about Peter’s presence more than to wonder with Stiles about the man’s intentions. There’s a silent offer of assistance in retaliation if he attempts anything funny that makes him feel warm inside, though.
“If it makes you feel better, I tasered Scott yesterday,” she finally admits, a hint of regret in her voice, because he was her first love and that doesn’t disappear just like that, no matter how much she has tried to lie to herself since her mother died.
After a second, they both cackle helplessly.
🌚 Previous | Next 🐺
1 note · View note
subtlehysteria · 7 years
Text
Pride and Prejudice (2005) Voltron AU because why the f*ck not
Keith = Mr. Darcy
Shiro = Mr. Bingly
Lance = Lizzy
Allura = Jane
In this case, I think Lance and Allura would be cousins and Alfor is alive, although he is starting to get old
(Coran will make a later appearance)
Pidge and Hunk would be Lance’s friends
Pidge refuses to conform to the restricting societal norms and wears the most amazing breeches and jackets
Their brother is super supportive and gives the evil eye to anyone who objects
(Lance also loves wearing Allura’s dresses to balls sometimes, depending on his mood)
So it’s the usual setting, everyone hears about Takashi Shirogane moving to town
A public ball is held and Lance and Allura insist on going because Uncle Alfor/Dad we never get to do anything around here
Alfor agrees, much to their delight
It’s not a super fancy ball, more a small public dance than anything, so Lance just wears his nicest dress shirt and blue breeches.
Allura steals the show in a simple pink dress
Everyone is asking her for a dance
She obliges because she’s too nice to say no, even though Lance tells her as much
 Enter Takashi Shirogane and his moody friend, Keith Kogane
“He was left a fortune twice as big as Mr. Shirogane’s when he was only ten. His family died in an accident.” - Pidge, aka. the town gossip who can get any and all info on anyone, for a handsome price of course
Keith is only starting to get involved in his family’s estate now, with Shiro’s help. He doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t hate it either.
He’s more interested in horseback riding and fencing. He likes to get out and actually do stuff
Except balls. He hates balls
Why does he need to dance to get to know someone? like??? he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place
but Shiro insisted because he’s nervous entering a new society
so of course, Keith will tag along
but that does not mean he’s going to socialize
Back to the ball. Long story short, Shiro and Keith get introduced to everyone.
Allura and Shiro meet eyes and they’re both immediately smitten (Jane Austen fans, you know the story)
Lance tries to talk to Keith but Keith just outright rebuffs his attempts at conversation
Suffice to say, Lance hates the guy and by the looks of things, Keith returns the sentiment
Allura is invited to dine with Shiro (and Keith, who is staying with Shiro)
Unfortunately, their carriage is out of commission, so Allura goes on horseback
It rains ceaselessly, Allura gets sick and has to stay at Shiro’s home until she feels better
Lance goes on a walk to visit her
When he arrives at Netherfield (i’m going to just call it that cause I can’t think of a Voltron-related name right now) his coat is dripping with mud and his hair is a complete mess from the wind
Keith still thinks he looks absolutely beautiful
but he’s not going to say that because wtf is feelings even
Lance visits every day until Allura is feeling better
The Hand Scene
Keith doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he feels Lance’s hand in his own and he’s helping him into the carriage
and his hand is shaking as he walks away
No, scratch that, everything is shaking and he can’t think straight
Shiro gives him a knowing look once Lance and Allura’s carriage has finally disappeared into the distance
Keith tells Shiro to focus on his own love interest
Shiro blushes profusely
Shiro invites everyone to a private ball at Netherfield and so Lance and Allura are out shopping for ribbons when Lance bumps into a soldier
His name his Lotor and he is an absolute charmer
He wins Lance’s sympathy when he explains that he and Keith and grew up together and that Keith recently cheated him of his inheritance
Lance hated Keith before, now he’s downright disgusted
(i am so sorry, this is more like an outline for a fic which i am so writing but yeah, Imma keep rambling)
Shiro’s Ball
Lance and Allura are stunning
Hunk says as much when he meets them inside
(Shiro hired Hunk to do the catering when Lance recommended him)
Alfor is very much in the know about Shiro’s intentions and is practically interrogating him on the spot
Shiro is low-key scared shitless but he still proves to be a very admirable young man
Poor Allura is kinda just standing there like Dad, stooop!
Keith actually greets Lance somewhat cordially, not really looking him in the eye though because he’s too pretty
seriously, how is he pulling off that light-blue dress so well??? and are those flowers in his hair
Lance is suspicious, even more so when Keith asks him to dance but he goes along with it because he wants answers
it is a battle of wits during their dance
like, Lance didn’t realize how sharp of a tongue Keith had and his temper is just something else entirely
Lance actually starts enjoying riling him up
Pidge warns Lance that Allura is being too reserved about her feelings towards Shiro
They’re worried Shiro might get the wrong idea and think his feelings are one-sided
Lance also tries and fails to find a certain white-haired soldier bc. once Lotor heard Keith was going to be there, he ducked out
Everyone is exhausted the next day
Lance is going to try and talk to Allura about being more open with Shiro
but when he finds her she has a letter in her hands and she’s trying not to cry but it isn’t working
Shiro and Keith have left the town without warning
even Pidge doesn’t know why
All Shiro’s letter says is that Allura is a very amiable young woman and that he hopes to be in her company again someday
He might as well have just written NOT INTERESTED
Allura is heartbroken, but she puts on a brave front
Lance sees through it though
A few months go by without a word from Shiro
The militia have moved on, meaning Lotor isn’t around to talk shit about Keith anymore
Matt invites Pidge to come visit him, seeing as he finally has some to himself
he runs a small estate, built it up himself. He’s a genius engineer, thanks to Mr. Holt putting him through a good school
Pidge invites Lance along
Hunk can’t go because has his catering business to run, plus he’s meeting Shay’s (his sous chef) family and may or may not be planning to start courting her soon
Lance is hesitant to go. He doesn’t want to leave Allura who is still a little down in the dumps
But she insists that Lance go so eventually he gives in
Pidge and Lance arrive just in time for supper only to find that Matt has another visitor
Keith fucking Kogane
Apparently, Matt, Shiro and Keith all went to the same school and Keith was in the area so he’s staying for a few days
Lance is not pleased
although, Keith is acting a little differently
Like, he’s actually trying to hold conversations?
and he and Pidge are actually getting along because they share the same sense of humour
and Lance is just confused
And then Keith visits him in his room
Keith is a bundle of nerves and keeps stopping halfway through his sentences
he remarks on the weather, on how nice the room is, literally looking anywhere but Lance
and then Pidge comes knocking and Keith is out of there before Lance can even get a word in edgewise
Next day they’re walking through the gardens
Keith and Pidge are up ahead and Pidge is laughing their ass off about something and Keith is actually smiling
And somehow Matt lets it slip that Keith is the one that separated Shiro and Allura
CUE THE RAIN SCENE
Lance is pissed and he’s dripping wet and cold and then of all people, Keith appears
And he’s proposing to Lance
And Lance snaps because there is no way he’s marrying some hot head who thinks splitting couples is a good thing
And they argue
Holy flying quiznak do they argue
And when Lance mentions Lotor? Keith snaps
because the man he loves is ripping his heart to shreds and he doesn’t look one bit sorry
And then the famous line: “From the first moment I met you your arrogance and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others made me realise that you were the last man I would ever prevail upon to marry”
And Keith just goes blank
He apologizes and leaves Lance and Lance should be happy, he’s finally told off that asshole
so why does he feel so empty?
And then there’s the letter
And Lance feels like the utmost fool and just sad
he was so wrong
so so wrong
Lance returns home just in time to find that Uncle Coran has come to visit
Coran is as flamboyant as they come
Can you imagine Coran in turquoise breeches because I can
Anyway, Coran invites Allura and Lance to come with him on a trip to the countryside, seeing as they both need a change in scenery
They visit Keith’s estate, Pemberley, because “it’s always open for guests to have a look”
Lance is hesitant but he goes along
SCULPTURE SCENE
Lance can’t stop looking at the bust of Keith
He looks so handsome
And somehow the sculptor managed to capture the intelligence in his eyes
When Lance finally comes back down to planet earth, he’s alone
The rest of the group has moved on without him
And then he hears someone yelling
He stumbles upon a room where Keith is busy practising his fencing
and he is good, as in he’s a fucking pro
And they meet eyes and Lance runs because he can’t see him, not after all he said
But Keith catches up to him and they talk and it so awkward and yet
Keith is softer, more gentle
Maybe he always was
He invites Lance and them to dinner and insists on walking them back to their hostel
And that’s when Allura gets a letter
Alfor is sick and the doctor says it isn’t long now before he passes on
Lance still has so many things to say to Keith, wants to apologize but they have to go
They arrive home in time to say goodbye to Alfor, who leaves their small estate to Allura, even though that’s technically against the law (leaving property to a woman, but screw it, Alfor knows Allura can handle his estate better than anyone else)
Lance, being the only male heir, refuses the property, much to the family laywer’s surprise. It belongs to Allura. Always has, always will.
And they adapt.
Coran stays with them while Allura settles into her new position as an estate manager, helping her when he can
They’re busy enjoying tea when Pidge bursts through their front door with Hunk not too far behind
Shiro is back in town
And damn but he looks determined
And Keith is with him
Cue the super awkward attempted-proposal scene where Coran ends up messing up Shiro’s entire plan of proposing to Allura
So Shiro and Keith go out and practice what he’s going to say, much to Keith’s amusement
And when Shiro does finally propose Allura doesn’t even hesitate to say yes
Lance should be happy for her, but his chest feels hollow and he knows why but he refuses to acknowledge it
He doesn’t sleep and decides to go for a walk, the sun’s nearly up anyway
And Lance is sitting, waiting for the sun to rise when he spots a figure in the mist
It’s Keith
Lance immediately apologizes and Keith says that he shouldn’t, that he was just as stupid
They were both so clueless, honestly
When Keith starts to propose, Lance stops him
He gets on one knee, in the mud, and proposes
Keith says yes
9 notes · View notes
whatifexo · 7 years
Text
Corona - Part 2 (Kai)
Tumblr media
(You’ve stepped out of your comfort zone.)
Part 1
Before you learned of Hesun’s engagement in illegal activity, you assumed that the company you worked for was just a normal, run-of-the mill postal service. It operated five days a week during business hours. It housed friendly employees. It offered paid vacation leaves and was lenient on the rare days you were running late.
There was no reason to suspect. You could have continued on working without a hitch. Five months into delivering, you were even beginning to love your job.
Until you found out exactly what you were getting involved in.
It was your last delivery of the day, minutes before midnight. In your haste to get home and fall into the comfort of your bed sheets, you decided to take a shortcut after work. You can still remember the weather on that night. A moist wind in the air snaked through gaps in between neighborhood homes. The sun had just set behind the horizon, leaving a dark purplish hue in the sky. A few distant stars peeked through drifting clouds.
You were in a good mood.
You felt uplifted enough to briefly explore a lone cul-de-sac near the area.
And then, just after you’d paused to pet a stray cat before letting it disappear through a broken fence, you heard a muffled cry.
You watched the only house with lights on fall into darkness moments before three vehicles pulled up the driveway. The neighbors seemed to be so deeply asleep that no one else noticed the rush of armed men pouring out into the street and surrounding the now darkened house.
There were too many of them, and you doubted they were the police. Behind some shrubbery, you crouched beside a trash can with wide and terrified eyes.
Stupid. Completely stupid. Even now you wished you would’ve done something. Interfered. At least you wouldn’t be living with the horrid memory if you died trying.
They entered the house without much struggle. It took one man to soundlessly unlock the door, entering the correct code on the numbered padlock on the first try.
Three men followed after him.
It was at this time that you’d tried to call the police.
Strangely, your phone was dead even though the battery had still been halfway filled the last time you checked. You know now that it was another one of Hesun’s tricks to disable all electronic devices and radio connections within the area.
If you asked for help, you’d have to yell out and inevitably draw attention to yourself. You could’ve ran, but your feet were cemented to the ground as you continued to watch the scene, paralyzed, the four men emerging from the house with a struggling woman in their hands.
You saw it coming before it happened.
Quick as an arrow, one of the men reached into his pocket. And without hesitation, without an ounce of regret or pity, drove the knife straight into the woman’s chest.
You clamped a hand against your mouth, biting on your skin until it bled and you felt bile rising up your throat.
You waited for the men to haul the dead body back in one of the three vehicles, a black van with no nameplate, and for the rest of them to pile into the remaining trucks and drive away. You remember crawling over and draping yourself over the trashcan.
You retched again and again until you were lightheaded and coughed up blood.
And then….blackness.
~~~
“Kai, I’ve lost you.”
Hesun’s familiar van still haunts you in your dreams on some nights.
“I’m on Wonho street. By the internet café in between the lamp posts.”
You don’t know why they’re in your area, but it can’t be you they’re coming for. They’d need an exceptional hacker to figure out your exact location.
Still.
What if, in some impossible way, they’ve identified you and are seeking to finish you off for witnessing their crime? What if they’ve found someone who exceeds your abilities and is more than capable of tearing you and the team apart?
“Stay in position,” you tell Kai through his earpiece once you find him through the internet café’s CCTV. “I’m calling Chen for backup.”
He grunts in half agreement, obviously displeased that he will be relying on Jongdae.
He suggested following Hesun’s van after your system announced the code orange, and he had changed into the black jumpsuit and cap he’d brought in his suitcase and gone out without much of a plan. You had no choice but to trust that he’ll follow your orders well.
Unfortunately, you can already foresee your authority crumbling.
“Don’t send him.”
Your prediction has come faster than you thought.
“Kai.”
“They’re here for me. The van is turning at the next street. They’re pulling out of the neighborhood.”
“What are you talking about?” you enlarge the tracker on your right screen just as a red dot approaches the blue one that represents Kai.
Oh dear lord.
“Stats on red target.” Your main screen opens a window of information at your command. Surprisingly, the profile that appears is one you’ve already recently reviewed. “Zhang Yixing?”
The delivery boy who tried to lure Jongdae into a trap.
Code name: Lay.
Well, you smile to yourself, it’s no secret anymore.
“Relax. I know him,” Kai enters the internet café to feign his actual purpose of being outside. “There’s a camera inside at the entrance.”
You take over said camera with one hand, the other shooting Junmyeon a quick message of Kai’s whereabouts and your current situation. His response arrives almost simultaneously.
Minutes later, Zhang Yixing emerges from the shadows and slips inside the internet café.
Kai, having moved to the corner to play with the claw machines, plasters a surprised look on his face upon Yixing’s quiet entrance. He positions himself with his back to the camera to give you a perfect view of the delivery boy.
“Agent Kai,” you roll your eyes at Yixing’s superficial greeting. “You’re being summoned at the Hesun headquarters.”
“What for?” suspicion laces Kai’s voice, but his posture remains casual.  Even the hand that rests on his back pocket is relaxed.
Yixing, in comparison, is noticeably tense.
His gaze catches the camera and your body goes rigid in your chair.
“The request I am about to disclose is strictly confidential. We cannot risk catching public attention.”
You release a shaky breath. They don’t know yet that a single individual is behind all of the cameras scattered around the city.
“Unfortunately, I have a strict bedtime schedule.” Kai sighs, tapping on his watch. “So I’m afraid I don’t have the time to let you drag me all the way back to headquarters.”
Yixing’s expression sours and you instinctively smile at the monitor. Kai knows how to toy with them even if he’s working under the company.
Hesun values him enough to almost beg for his alliance with them. If they ever harm him for his incompliance, Hesun will lose a valuable and skillful weapon. Their efforts will be wasted; they’ll have to search for a new pawn to play in their twisted game of chess.
And it’s your job to find out what they’re aiming to checkmate.
“You are to retrieve highly confidential documents on that night.” Yixing takes a step closer and lowers his voice to an almost whisper. “We will send you instructions when you arrive at the Blue House’s gates. Activation of any alarm system will result in your immediate termination.”
“Oh? Is that a threat, Mr. Zhang?”
Yixing’s hand is on Kai’s collar in an instant.
The camera jolts at the impact of Kai’s back slamming into the wall, catching the attention of a few students on their way out the door.
Yixing throws them a piercing glare and they scramble off with shaking knees.
“My apologies,” Kai smiles coldly. “Lay.”
You shake your head at his brazenness.
Yixing holds up a shaking fist, and for a second you expect him to actually land a punch. But then he glances at the camera, silently looking over him and Kai with a flashing red light. You stare back at the screen with unblinking eyes.
Yixing slams his fist into the cemented wall.
When he pulls away, all signs of his previous anger disappear.
“I will see you in two weeks, agent Kai.”
~~~
You weren’t entirely certain how long you spent blacked out on the street after vomiting the contents of your dinner in a stranger’s trashcan.
You woke up with a pounding headache, screaming from a nightmare of a faceless woman begging for help, her torso bleeding profusely. You were lying on a bed, somehow. You made out an outline of a whirring fan on the ceiling, a full bookcase, a working desk littered with paper, and a collection of picture frames set atop a dresser.
A familiar face smiling into the camera made you bolt up with panic.
Your hands shot out to grip something, anything for support. Your fingers made contact with a dampened a sleeve, and you latched onto it without suspicion. Comforting arms wound its way around your shuddering shoulders as you sobbed into the unknown man’s chest beside you.
“They, they-“ you blubber uselessly. “Men……guns….knife…..she….”
“I know,” the man’s voice is strained. Heavy with grief and exhaustion. He sounded as if he had been crying too, but for far much longer than you have.  “They killed my wife.”
Compared to now, twenty three-year-old Kim Junmyeon was not much different from the Junmyeon you know today. He was just as handsome, both youth and fatigue conflicted on his face. His kindness was still unparalleled. He lent you his wife’s clothes to change into and invited you downstairs where he had food waiting.
Your own introduction was brief, but Junmyeon shared enough of what you needed to know. He recounted his whole and truthful knowledge of Hesun over a hot cup of coffee at his kitchen counter.
He told you that he was a part of the customer service staff and had been working at the local post for some time. He revealed his rising suspicion of the calls he received, the many requests for the boss who never showed his face save for a few select delivery men and managers.
He talked about overhearing a phone call between the town’s mayor and Hesun’s CEO, of the connections between the company and other influential political figures, the services Hesun provided to ensure political success. Their involvement in the black market was also alarmingly active.
On the day that Junmyeon handed in his resignation letter, his wife coincidentally ran into the CEO on her way to surprise her husband at work. She recalled feeling unease in his presence despite his warm greeting.
“We’d planned to leave the country tonight.” the coffee had gone cold by the time Junmyeon finished his story. He hadn’t taken a single sip from it. “The CEO must’ve ordered the attack to keep her from talking.”
That was the first and last time you ever witnessed Junmyeon shedding tears.
“Bastards,” he growled through gritted teeth, nearly shattering his mug with his iron grip. “I’ll kill them all if that’s what it takes.”
~~~
It’s relatively safe to say that Junmyeon’s house is a fortified mansion that’s invisible from the outside world. He’d purchased the land not long after you agreed to join him in his quest to destroy Hesun, his agency naturally growing as he recruited members.
Team B currently resides on the top floor of the mansion, though as much as you’ve frequented Junmyeon’s office, you’ve never met a single member. It may have something to do with your independent decision to live on your own and away from the others, but then again, Jongdae also stays with Junmyeon and has never made contact with team B either.
Although you’re curious, you and Jongdae aren’t inclined to ask. Junmyeon has his ways, and you shouldn’t be so concerned with the man that practically saved your life.
So even though you’re not entirely on board with letting Kai stay at the mansion, you let Junmyeon make the offer anyways.
“I’m more than fine with staying,” Kai shrugs when you’ve all gathered in Junmyeon’s office. “As long as he isn’t my roommate.”
He jerks a thumb at a petrified looking Jongdae.
He’s been sticking to the wall since the meeting began.
“Fair enough,” Junmyeon nods, rising from his chair to stretch his back after the long group discussion. You’d been talking in circles about Kai’s Blue House break-in until you placed your foot down and suggested calling it a night. “I will give you the guest room in the main hall. ________ can take you there.”
Junmyeon says this in a tone that leaves no room for argument.
“Would you like me to change the bed sheets as well?” you scowl, though you’re already walking out of the office after Kai.
“A cup of coffee would be nice!” Junmyeon yells just as you close the door.
You don’t have much energy left to stay angry.
Plus, the lingering memory of Jumyeon’s wife is still on your mind. The black vans, Zhang Yixing, code orange…Kai. How he managed to bypass your advanced home security still remains a mystery. Now that the initial panic with intruders has worn off, you’re left to wrestle with Kai’s real identity.  
Everything you know about him comes from the news, the unreliable articles that painted him as a murderer and glossed over his potential innocence.
Though his real name was never revealed, his image and true identity were stripped from him regardless. The public didn’t care about his vulnerable parts. His lack of family only fueled the unjust hatred people expressed by word and online forums. There were no pardons for a boy who was sentenced even before his trial began.
You don’t think it was much of a trial at all.
Then, four years later, he’s transformed into this changed, dangerous man. Or so they say. You find that public opinion hasn’t been all that reliable.
From your experience, you’ve never met anyone who can break through your defenses as easily as one might dust off their shoulders. You’ve never known anyone who has braved through harsh criticisms, death threats, long days in jails, and endless cycles of fighting.
Who knows how all of this has affected him?
Who are you to make assumptions on his true character?
“So…..we’re here.”
Kai stops walking abruptly and your face rams into his back, jarring you back to reality.
“I didn’t expect Corona to be such a klutz.” he quirks an eyebrow teasingly, bordering on flirtatious, and it’s moments like this when your iron guards are tempted to soften.
“It’s been a long night.” you mumble, massaging your forehead lightly.
It’s the truth.
Seeing the bed in the room almost makes you want to fall on to it and sleep your persistent thoughts away. Except this isn’t exactly your room and it’s quite inappropriate to think about sleeping under these circumstances.
Now that you’re paying attention, the dim lamps and the drawn curtains set an intimate environment that has your skin on edge.
To make matters worse, Kai has begun to slip off his jumpsuit. He’s thankfully wearing a shirt inside.  
“Well, I’ll be off.” you blurt out and turn a little too quickly on your way to the door.
It’s not your smoothest moment.
The little stutter gives Kai enough time to catch your shoulder and whirl you around again, sending your balance off kilter as you stumble back into the door.
It shuts under your weight with a click.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Kai cages you with his hands braced against the doorframe to block your escape path. “But I keep getting this feeling that you’re scared of me.”
Scared?
You can’t quite read his shadowed expression, so there’s no way of telling if he’s joking or not.
“Are you scared of me, ________?”
The sound of your name on his lips quickens your pulse. The feeling isn’t exactly fear. It’s a foreign emotion that you can’t define.
Not that it matters.
He’s most likely trying to intimidate you on purpose. For fun. But….do you really feel intimidated?
“You’re gonna have to try harder if you want me to be.” The words tumble out of your mouth with such ease that it surprises both you and Kai.
So he wasn’t serious.
Before he can respond, you duck under his left arm and push him aside, pulling the door open and stepping out into the empty hallway.
“Make sure you change your bandages before you go to bed,” you don’t turn around to look at his face. “There should be another set under the bathroom sink.”
You close the door firmly behind you and release a heavy breath.
This is truly an unending night. You almost wish the sun would come up already just to get over today’s events. The idea of getting back to work in a few more hours makes you think otherwise.
You also have to face the lonely commute back home.
Before you walk away, a movement to your right catches your attention. You turn your head to find a decorative mirror on the other side of the wall that has captured your reflection, your hair messy and sticking out in wacky directions. The sweatshirt you’re wearing, which you bought at some flea market months ago, sags around your body. You’ve never been self conscious over your casual appearance, but this is something new.
Your eyes widen at the sight of your cheeks flushed pink. You lift a hand to brush your fingers over the skin there. Warmth spreads over your fingertips.
The image of Kai hovering over you flashes in your head, and the same warmth his proximity brought reminds you of seeing his face up close when you simultaneously blew over his bleeding knuckles.
Your face might explode at this rate.
You’re beginning to feel more awake.
Maybe you’ll make Junmyeon that cup of coffee after all.
~~~
As soon as Jongdae notices the lack of sleep that’s begun to show on your face, your first reaction is to act defensive.
“You look like death.” he notes one day after his workout.
“And you look like you could use a shower.”
Jongdae’s sweaty towel makes contact with your face before you can dodge it, and you scream bloody murder as you catch it in your hands and proceed to stuff it in Jongdae’s mouth. He’s forced to do an additional round of cardio while you run after him around the mansion’s spacious gym.
As a given, you seldom finish Jongdae’s training sessions on friendly terms. Every once in a while you would watch him train and record his movements with various sensors. You’d analyze his fighting stance, his strength, agility, power, or unique gestures that would help you in developing his gear. Then you’d spend days, sometimes as long as months to produce the equipment that keeps your communication steady during missions.
You enjoy doing this much, at least.
The problem is Jongdae’s tendency to show off. His excessive flexing has irritated you more times than you can count. You’re convinced it’s his way of compensating for his poor sparring skills. Once, when you’d been learning self defense, he had eagerly played the role of your ‘attacker’ and boasted of his strong hold.
The said strong hold proved to be much weaker as soon as your knee came close to his manhood.
You can say that your friendly little rivalry spouted its seeds then.
Though you would usually refrain from engaging in physical activities, Jongdae seems to fuel the unburned energy inside of you.
You’re about to gain ground on him by jumping over the dumbbells when the reason for your little fight walks in the room in the middle of your chase.
Jongdae slams on his breaks immediately.
“I was told to come for the training.” Kai says to you straight faced, completely disregarding Jongdae’s presence.
Jongdae might have coughed but it resembles more of a choking noise instead.
“You’ve come to the right place,” you break the awkward silence and palpable tension, giving Jongdae the cue to grab his duffle bag and scurry out of the room with a quick, “I’m going to take a shower!”
“Such a tragedy,” you tsk, watching him go before moving to pack up your laptop. “He was so brave before.”
Kai follows you to the where your backpack is on the floor and leans on the elliptical, crossing his muscled arms, and your chest constricts as he studies you intently. Kai has a talent for making someone feel bare with just his gaze. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable.
Or maybe he’s noticed how you’ve been avoiding him recently. You’ve barely exchanged words since he first moved in the mansion.
You wish you’d just left with Jongdae.
“You’re being very fidgety.”
“I’m not fidgety.” you snap back without thinking, and Kai barks out a laugh.
“You are. You’ve put your hood up.” he reaches out to tug at a drawstring of your hoodie.
You step back in surprise, the scene becoming all too familiar.
Your feet stumble over some equipment behind you, the gigantic treadmill that measures everything from heart rate to calories burnt, and your body fails to react fast enough to stop your fall. Kai’s fast reflexes save you from tumbling over and cracking your head open.
His arm is steady on your waist as you find your balance again, pulling up your backpack which you barely managed to avoid stepping on.
“Did you know that your hood comes up whenever you’re trying to hide?”
His hand lingers on your back and you pull away as if you’d been slapped.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Kai shrugs. “It’s obvious that you’ve been avoiding me.”
You blink back at him in shock.  
There’s no denying that you’ve been wearing a cycle of sweatshirts for the past week, navigating through the mansion’s large halls in silence. You occasionally caught sight of Kai shadow boxing in the courtyard or discussing plans with Junmyeon in his office, and whenever you were within Kai’s vicinity, you must’ve unconsciously pulled your hood up.
He’s been paying attention. And you’d been an idiot for not noticing.
Way to go, ________. So much for camouflaging.
You hesitantly meet Kai’s questioning eyes.
“I’m starting to wonder if I’m actually scaring you.” he says, and the hint of disappointment in his voice forces your head to shake in opposition.
“That’s definitely not the case.”  
Kai’s brow shoots up faster than a rocket.
“Then…..?” your mouth goes dry as he trails off and smirks. For a moment you see his potential as an actor flash before you. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were into me.”
This is where the line is drawn.
“This conversation has gone stale very quickly.” your mouth tightens and you swing your backpack over your shoulder.
Kai must sense your urgency to leave because he’s blocking your path in an instant.
“It was a joke, you know.”
“You’re terrible at making one.”
You sidestep and stomp off with a huff, thanking the heavens that there isn’t a mirror around this time.
~~~
“Oh, for the love of God, _______, stop being so dramatic.” Junmyeon leans back in his office chair in defeat after you’ve properly shared your opinions.
He had been quiet for the most part, nodding occasionally while signing papers and typing away on his laptop until you’d mentioned exchanging positions with team B’s hacker.
That got his attention.
“You know the rules between you and team B,” he slips off his reading glasses, a sign that you’re pushing his buttons. “There is absolutely no way that I will allow you to switch over for something as miniscule as disliking a particular team member.”
“This isn’t a minuscule topic, Gramps.” you argue, unwilling to drop the topic now that you’re also reminded of the mysterious shroud that has continued to surround team B. You’d expected for Junmyeon to open up about them at some point. If you worked seriously at his agency, proved that you were trustworthy and convinced him that you deserved to know as his friend, surely he will finally disclose the reason behind keeping his two teams apart?
This is what you’d thought in the beginning.
You’re not certain if you’d even made a dent in convincing Junmyeon since then. He may be a soft leader, but he’s also incredibly stubborn.
“You are trying to get too many things from me, _________,” he sighs now, folding his hands over his table. “is this really about Kai or are you only using him as an excuse?”  
“Both,” you admit. “But it’s true that I feel uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?’
You pause, debating whether or not you should tell him. Up to this point, you’d only complained about Kai’s frequent teasing and his apparent quest to constantly embarrass you. No other specific details were provided. Your primary goal was to relieve yourself of the building stress, and you didn’t think it was important for Junmyeon to know exactly how you’ve been feeling emotionally harassed.
“________. You may tell me.”
He’s never going to let this go.
“He claims that I might like him.”
Junmyeon’s face darkens and a considerable moment of silence passes.
“And do you?”
“Gramps!” you exclaim, utterly exasperated. “Now isn’t the time to act like my dead father.”
“Right, I apologize,” he softens at the mention of your dad. You rarely speak of your parents. Not even with any of the nuns at the orphanage where you spent more than half of your life in. “I’m only wary of anyone who can open your heart so easily.”
“I assure you, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I see. If you aren’t satisfied, I could discuss the issue with Kai if the problem per-“
“NO,” you rush up to Junmyeon’s desk so suddenly that he jumps a little in his seat. “Forget it. There’s no need for any discussions. You were right, I was being overdramatic.”
You almost forgot that Junmyeon can be too straightforward sometimes, and dumbly so. You’re going to have to save your plans of infiltrating team B later. Unfortunately, you’ll also have to bear with Kai’s bullying tactics until then.
“If that’s what you wish, then alright,” Junmyeon concedes. “There are more important matters to worry about anyway.”
That’s right.
The Blue House break in. The rough plan that you’ve all come up with is simple. Assist Kai in avoiding security, help him steal whatever files Hesun wants him to steal, record what kind of files they are, get Kai out safely.
It all sounds awfully easy, if you take out the bit of going against the most powerful figure in the country.
Your team is pushing itself to its limit in preparation. Jongdae has been running around and collecting info on the Blue House guards while training on the side. Junmyeon has been researching the president’s daily schedule and attending business events while also managing his agency. You have been working on analyzing the blueprint of the Blue House and disarming all cams within the area. Kai has continued to pose as Hesun’s pawn and carried out his spying duties.
So far, all the info that he’s gotten is that Hesun is desperately searching for a lost asset. If they’re willing to go as far as sneaking around the government, whatever this asset is must cost more figures than you can ever imagine.  
And you all may be up against more enemies than you thought.
The government isn’t exactly a saint either.
The knowledge of this has only increased your anxiety. And like a growing vine, your concern centers on Kai. You still don’t know why Hesun had chosen him out of all people to be their spy. Why not just another skilled mercenary or a corrupted official? Sure, Kai has advanced skills, he’s made you question your own after easily surpassing your defense system at home. It’s the reason why you haven’t been sleeping much, you’ve been upping your security and rewriting algorithms for practice.
But what is Hesun’s real use for Kai? Where do they intend to maximize his skills?  
“Gramps,” Junmyeon might help to sort through your complicated thoughts. “I keep getting this bad feeling.”
“That’s only natural. We are taking a huge risk with this upcoming mission. I assure you that the agency will be safe and none of us will be harmed.” He launches into his practiced speech, standing to meet you at eye level where he can console you with certainty.
But that’s not the kind of reaction you wanted to get from him.
Junmyeon senses your hesitance and stops in mid sentence, leaning forward on his hands that are splayed over his table.
“Well?” he prompts you, and it sounds almost like an order instead of a question.
“What happens to Kai if Hesun finds out about his connections with us?”
Junmyeon searches your eyes thoughtfully, you can see mild surprise in his, before he provides you with an answer. You have a feeling that you already know part of it.
“He will die. And if not in Hesun’s hands, then in ours.”
You know that Junmyeon will only ever do this as a last resort. In the case that Kai completely turns over and betrays the agency. It’s the only way that Junmyeon can protect his people and continue to pursue Hesun’s destruction. But he has never killed a man. He’s never stained his hands with such work and he doesn’t have the heart to do something so monstrous.
If a situation ever calls for the loss of life, whether it be Kai’s or some random stranger’s, Junmyeon will have to pick between his principles and revenge.
You hope he never has to make such a decision.
~~~
When the agency was in its premature stages, Junmyeon struggled to find the right people to trust. After losing his wife, he’d withdrawn so far back into his empty himself that you were forced to reassemble his broken pieces.  
You couldn’t have ever replaced his wife. No one could ever have, but you were there during his hardest times. You were there when he woke up from his nightmares screaming and when he had nearly starved himself out of grief. You were there to pull him away from tumbling over the edge of the roof on nights he drunk himself senseless. You were there to hold his quivering body until his sobbing quieted to shaky breaths.
You were there when he slowly resurfaced from the flood of loss, and depression, and darkness, and when he stepped out of the house for the first time in months.
That day, he met Jongdae for the first time.
You were sitting in the cramped kitchen, waiting for Junmyeon’s return with your insides knotting as time passed. You counted down the minutes that turned into hours. Your fingernails dug into the wood of the table impatiently.
Although you were glad he had finally gathered the courage to step outside, the both of you were still runaways. You’d fled from Hesun together and left for Busan, now hidden in the quiet countryside where the nearest mart was thirteen miles away.
Junmyeon bought a shabby house with the little money he had left and you found a side job that involved doing some tractor work. After a while, to make the heavy work easier, you found a way to jack it so that it automatically ran for you. Junmyeon spent most of his days holed up in his room during the first few weeks, right before the storm of his grief swept him away from reality for a while. It felt lonelier then to live with another person than when you were living alone. Life was slow, much slower than you were used to at this new place you struggled to call home. It was the first time you learned that the rush and noise of the city were things that you could miss.
But from time to time, the wailing of distant sirens also made you unbearably antsy.
There was no doubt that Hesun was still searching for the delivery girl that suddenly left them and the customer service man they failed to kill. It didn’t take an idiot to connect the dots when they found both of you missing.
You felt less cautious when you ventured outside alone. Out there, you only had to look after yourself. With Junmyeon gone and the roles having been switched, you were driven closer to insanity.
After the fourth hour since he left the house, two hours past his promised return, you unclenched your tense fists and stood from the kitchen table. You grabbed your coat and put on your hat, secured the keys, and rushed for the door.
You opened it to find a panting Junmyeon at the doorstep, his arm around a bleeding boy who was slumped against him.
The groceries needed were nowhere to be found.
You stood there, frozen, as Junmyeon brushed past you and headed for the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood on the linoleum floors you’d just cleaned earlier that morning.
“Bring the rubbing alcohol from my bedroom, quickly!” he yelled, and you briefly wondered why he kept such a thing on his drawer.
It wasn’t until after Junmyeon’s finished cleaning the boy’s wounds with shaking hands and bandaged his torso with strips of a worn out towel that you realized it.
You had been so close to being left alone yet again.
You wanted to reprimand him for it, you wanted to scream at him. How dare he think of taking his own life when he was the one who vowed to get back at them for taking his everything from him? Was everyone that eager to leave you behind? Were you really forever cursed with temporary relationships?
This man now, who had been no one to you before you’d met, had somehow become someone significant in your life.
“Don’t cry,” Junmyeon comforted you when he noticed your tears. He’d carried the boy to the dusty sofa, who had fallen into either unconsciousness or a deep sleep. “I think he will wake up eventually.”
Junmyeon thought that you were worried about this stranger. You were too worn out and angry to explain.
“Tell me about him.” you said instead.
It’s odd. As Junmyeon recounted the story of how he ended up in a secluded alleyway instead of the mart, he was filled with a kind of passion that you’ve never seen him speak with before. At least not since he first vowed revenge on Hesun. Even that was slowly fading from him as poverty and hopelessness weighed him down.
But that boy, that battered, dirty boy, brought some light back to Junmyeon’s features.
His name was Jongdae. Ex-banker. A victim of a bank robbery. Junmyeon said he remembered seeing it on the news a year ago. Jongdae was tangled up in a fight with some street kids who had kicked a slice of moldy bread out of his hands and into the dumpster. The bullies would have left it at that, but Jongdae had to insult them first.
Junmyeon walked in on them before fists were taken out, but he stayed hidden out of curiosity. Jongdae was skinny and weak, yes, but he was unafraid. He held up even when three of the other boys ganged up and shoved him to the ground, kicking him in the stomach until he coughed up blood.
This is when Junmyeon entered the picture.
He’d managed to hold off the boys until they went running, but they were bound to call their friends over to make up for their humiliation. It took Junmyeon a good hour to convince Jongdae to come with him, and another hour to get home by making detours with the boy on his back for half of the distance.
“You’re out of your mind,” you reject Junmyeon’s idea without him having to say it. “We can’t be obligated to feed another mouth when we barely have enough for ourselves! There’s no-“
“We need him, _________,” the desperation in Junmyeon’s voice startled you. “Jongdae is one of us. He is also another product of Hesun’s blasted business! If I were to tear apart that goddamn company piece by piece, I would need a strong, resilient fighter like him.”
At the time, you couldn’t see the fight in Jongdae. It was especially hard to do so when his limbs looked as fragile as a bird’s. His sleeping face looked harmless and vulnerable. He looked as if he wasn’t even capable of hurting a fly.
Still, he managed to bring a part of Junmyeon back to life.
You gave him a month.
Four weeks to prove to you that the boy from the streets could be helpful. He would help to cover the finances. He would share everything he knew about Hesun. He would sleep on that creaky sofa with bent springs because you weren’t willing to give your room and neither will you allow Junmyeon to give up his. Jongdae would convince you that you could let him into your life.
If he satisfied all of these, he would be allowed to stay.
~~~
You’re back in your hideout and taking a nap on your hammock when you receive Jongdae’s messages. They start of as periodical pings! on your cell, easy to ignore and brush off for later as you slip in and out of consciousness.
Then they become increasingly louder.
Your ringtone blasts on for a while, making you shove your pillow over your face and ears, groaning into cotton when your computer powers on and receives Jongdae’s automated message.
Pick up the fucking phone, Corona!
The computerized voice relays this in a robotic tone that is more irritating than an actual exclamation.
With effort, you reach for your cell on the coffee table and answer with a low grumble.
“Bad news,” Jongdae’s voice is barely audible. There’s music playing in the distance, laughing and glasses being clinked, all signs of having a good time, but Jongdae sounds frantic. “Gramps and Kai have met up without us knowing and they’re wasted as hell.”
“What?” you bolt up and nearly flip your over in your hammock. You think you still might be dreaming. Junmyeon and Kai. Drinking. On the night before the big mission. “Where are you?”
“At that underground bar from before. The directions-“ Jongdae is interrupted by a disturbing retching noise. You can imagine Jongdae blanching at the scene in front of him. “-you know where it is, just hurry up! Oh god Gramps, get yourself together!”
The call cuts off and you’re left with echoing music and Jongdae’s fading cries.
You check the time and release a burdened sigh. Your nap had lasted far longer than you meant it to. The last train into the center of the city has already departed, so you have no choice but to take a cab on the way there and back. After throwing your hair up in a sloppy bun and pulling up your hood, you head out into the street where the thought of your last conversation with Junmyeon stops you in your tracks.
He wouldn’t have actually talked to Kai about your complaints on his teasing, right? Junmyeon promised, and Junmyeon is the kind of man who sticks to his words. At least while he’s sober. You’ve only ever seen him drink alcohol three times, once every year, on the death anniversary of his wife.
He’s approximately three months early this year.
Not to mention, you also happen to remember every detail of his latest drunken fiasco, which involved dropping his eloquent speech and spilling the beans on the first time he got laid by the “hottest woman in the universe” so his wife can go “suck on that” for leaving him so early. Neither you nor Jongdae mentioned that his first time was actually with his wife.
After that shocking event, there’s just no telling what he’ll do next.
Before you know it, you’ve gotten out of the cab without receiving your change and sprinting towards the bar, taking the stairs two at a time and nearly crashing into a couple feeding on each other’s faces at the entrance. They break their messy kiss to shuffle aside and scoff, offended, but you head straight inside without acknowledging them further.
It isn’t difficult to spot your team.
Junmyeon is slumped over the bar counter, his tie on the floor and his head rolling lazily on his arm, mumbling to himself with his arm around a concerned Jongdae. Kai is sitting up straight in the stool beside the two, his back perfectly straight with a drink poised in his hand. Up until here he’s seemingly normal, but when he locks eyes with you across the dance floor, he breaks out into a wide smile with hazy eyes.
Your jaw drops and Jongdae stumbles to the floor with Junmyeon’s arm locked tightly around his waist. As they fall over, Junmyeon abruptly swings his head and brings his face uncharacteristically close to Jongdae’s.
The latter flushes scarlet all the way down to his neck.
You’re rushing over in an instant.
“________, please,” Jongdae’s voice strains from the effort of holding both himself and Junmyeon up. He barely manages to get the older man to stand. “Tell me you’ve got a cab.”
“I told the driver to wait outside.” you nod, stopping Jongdae by the arm when he attempts to stumble away. “What happened?”
“My good friend Minseok called me when these two drunkards almost punched each other over the last glass of cognac.” Junmyeon perks up at this and proceeds to pout his lips at Jongdae, making kissy faces as he sways in place. Contrary to your expectations, Jongdae’s face sours.
“Who’s Minseok?”
Jongdae waves away your unvoiced suspicion with his free hand.
“Just an old high school friend. He’s that guy over there.” Jongdae points at the young looking bartender making drinks on the other end of the bar. Jongdae whistles over at him and he winks, scoring a wild reaction from the girls nearby. You recall Minseok being present the last time you were here, when you’d first met Kai and his first impression felt cold and detached. Seeing him now with his empty drink miraculously balanced on his head has you reevaluating that first impression.
Again, Kai smiles when he notices you staring, slightly tilting his head, and you swiftly catch the glass just as it begins to topple over.
“Convincing him to go home may take a while.” you glance at Jongdae now practically dragging Junmyeon towards the back entrance.
“I would love to stay and see you try, but I really don’t need this old man vomiting all over my new jacket.”
You bite back a groan forming in the back of your throat.
“Go sit him outside and wait by the cab. I’ll see what I can do here.”
“Good luck, Corona. Try not to kill him.”
Jongdae is lost in the dense crowd in a matter of moments.
Pulling over the nearest stool, you seat yourself beside a very drunken Kai.
You’re not sure what to expect. You’ve learned the hard way that Kai is absolutely unpredictable. His unfocused eyes give nothing away. His posture gradually slouches as you gauge his actions. From your peripheral vision, you see Minseok glancing over in concern as he continues to entertain the group of girls in front of him.
“Kai,” you duck your head down to meet him at eye level, capturing his attention when you shake him by the shoulder. “It’s time to go home.”
It takes some searching on his part, his attention wandering up and over and to the side, but his gaze finds yours eventually.
“Soojung?” his eyes suddenly clear and your brows furrow in confusion.
“What was that?”
Then, without warning at all, as if a switch had flipped off inside him, Kai’s body slumps forward and falls into you like a toppling boulder.
---
HELLO FRIENDS, I am back from the battle with college and I’ve finally found the time to write this ;; A few changes: I’m going to start (at least try) to put pics in my future scenarios mostly for the visuals. I’ve also found that the style and tone of this chapter is different from the first. I kind of like it. I may go back and edit the first part later as this might be the direction I actually want to go in. Thoughts? As always, thank you for being such patient angels and I’ll get on with the next story as soon as I can. 
28 notes · View notes
kpop--fics · 7 years
Text
My heart to keep - Park Jinwoo fluff
[Arranged Marriage AU]
Collab with: @just-trash-writing-trash !!! She’s amazing, you should check her out~
Word count: 3.821
---
“I can’t believe you are forcing me to marry someone.” You said to your parents, a look of disappointment in your eyes. “Y/n, it’s the best for you, we promise.” You mother tried to convince you. “Besides, I promise he’s not that bad.” Your dad continued. You just rolled your eyes and stormed upstairs, not believing your own ears.
“An arranged marriage? What are they even thinking?” You said on the phone to your best friend, MJ. His real name was Myungjun, but you preferred this little nickname for the guy. “Well, not to be rude or anything, but you are getting older and…you have never dated, did you?” He said, teasing you a bit. “Hey! But, you are right…” You confessed, not too happy about it.
“Y/n, don’t be so sad! It might even be fun, cheer up a bit! I’ll visit you tomorrow, how does that sound?” He continued his little speech. “Aren’t you really busy with your comeback and all?” You questioned, not wanting him to waste his time on you. “No worries, I’ll be fine! Well, I have to go now, I’ll see you tomorrow!” And he hung up.
“Maybe it won’t be that bad.” You tried to convince yourself, before falling asleep.
However, the next day, you woke up with a miserable feeling in your stomach. You really didn’t want this, even if they paired you to the king himself. But, you didn’t have any say in this matter, and you knew that. With a sigh, you stood up and got dressed.
After a while, you were walking down the stairs, only to see that the living room was filled with more people than you imagined there would be. In the middle of them, a guy around your age stood up and hold his hand out. “Hey, I’m Jinwoo, your fiancée, apparently. Nice to meet you!” He introduced himself. At least he seemed like he would be nice. “I’m Y/n, nice to meet you too.” You tried to say as enthusiastic as possible.
A few seconds later, the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” You yelled, walking to the front door. You were relieved when you saw Myungjun standing there. You greeted him and stepped aside so he could walk to the living room.
From your spot by the front door, you could still hear the statement Myungjun made. “Oh! Jinjin, we were worried about you! So this is where you were!” You could hear him smile from all the way over where you stood. You walked over quickly, confusion written all over your face.
“Wait, you’re Jinjin, MJ’s leader?”
"Yeah," JinJin said, sending you an apologetic look. "Your parents were supposed to tell you that, but I guess they didn't." "They don‘t tell me much," you replied with a bitter smile, thinking back to your arranged marriage. There was nothing more that you wanted than to let all of your anger on your parents, but they were somewhere in the crowd of people, talking to distant relatives with fake smiles on their faces. Besides, you didn't want to cause a scene, it would only make your situation worse. And you had no reason to be mad at JinJin – he didn't have a choice in this either.
"So, what do you-" JinJin was about to ask you something when he got interrupted by your mother's voice. She even went as far as tapping the glass she was holding with a fork, grabbing everyone‘s attention. You tried not to roll your eyes too much, but it was just ridiculous how fancy and dramatic your mother made everything.
As far as you were concerned, no one actually cared about the wedding, they only came for food or to sweet talk and hope that it could later benefit them in terms of money. "I'm so happy to introduce this evening's most important guest – Park Jinwoo, fiancé and soon-to-be husband to my lovely (Y/N)!" her capability to fake enthusiasm and any nice emotions always fascinated you. But then again, maybe you inherited that power, since everyone else seemed to believe the fake smile you gave them while bowing with JinJin.
The guests clapped, congratulating you both on the wedding that neither of you wanted. As the others slowly went back to talking and drinking, you sighed in relief, turning back to MJ and JinJin. "Your mother seems...nice," JinJin spoke, still watching her with an expression that had too much fear and not enough actual liking in it. MJ laughed, clearly amused by the hardly funny situation you were in.
"Oh no, wait until you need to spend every holiday with her," he said, not even trying to contain his laughter that earned him a nudge from you. JinJin broke into a small chuckle too, and you felt the atmosphere fall lighter.
“Y/n, I will have to return to practice soon, since Rocky wants to teach me the dance better. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but Jinjin will take good care of you! Goodbye for now!” He said happily. “Hey, Myungjun! Don’t you dare say that about me!” Jinjin yelled while chasing him to the front door. Within a minute, MJ had disappeared out of your house.
“You sure do know how to handle your members, Jinjin” You giggled, amused by the spectacle that was just in front of your eyes. “Please, call me Jinwoo, Y/n.” As he said that, you blushed a bit. You didn’t know why, but calling him by his real name seemed something intimate, like a thing only good friends or more than that did. Well, technically, you guys were more than good friends, but still.
“It’s crazy, isn’t it? Two complete strangers who know nothing about each other being brought together like this.” You tried to clear the awkward atmosphere that had returned after MJ left the house. “Yeah, it is. Did you… did you want this?” Jinwoo asked shyly, not sure if it was the appropriate thing to ask in front of your family.
“Don’t worry, I made it loud and clear that I absolutely refuse against the idea of arranged marriages. I doubt you wanted this too, right?” You said, and Jinwoo nodded his head. Of course, no one was thinking of arranged marriages, especially in this century.
“I still can’t believe they are doing this though. What would you get out of this?” You questioned out loud. “Well, I guess it’s better than giving me time to date and stuff like that.” Jinwoo countered, and he had a point.
“That’s true… but wouldn’t your fans be disappointed at this news?” You asked him, looking him in the eyes. Weird, you never noticed how captivating they were. Wait, what were you even saying?!
“I guess… but if my manager says I should marry than I have no say in this…” He said, looking at the floor in disappointment. “But don’t worry, we’ll make this work out. I mean, it could be worse, right?” He joked. You laughed at the bold statement, and decided to make the best out of it.
What could go wrong?
After the dinner, you and Jinwoo were told to meet his manager. You knew that you probably weren't going to get the chance to talk much and yet as you were approaching the door, you felt anxiety build up in your stomach.
"Take a seat," the manager motioned towards two chairs in front of him, staying silent until you sat down. "Right, so I have a few rules and conditions for you two." "We already signed the contract," Jinwoo said, looking just as confused as you were. His manager sighed, pulling out more papers from his bag. "You still have to learn how to act like a couple around cameras.
Y/N, since from now on you‘ll be constantly exposed to the public eye, you‘ll need to get used to it. Since we don‘t know how the fans will react to you, it‘s better to follow the rules first. Jinwoo, I expect you to help Y/N and make sure nothing goes wrong." he spoke, sliding the papers to you while keeping eye contact with Jinwoo.
You glanced over the rules and tips, feeling your outer unaffected facade crumble. You were almost sure you‘d fail sooner or later. All the instructions on how to act around cameras, required hand holding and PDA in public, correct responses to questions or fan shouting that were polite but also got the message across, even tips on how to smile.
Sure, Jinwoo's been doing it for quite some time now, being an idol, he knew how to appeal to others and what to do. But what about you? You knew nothing, and being suddenly thrown out to the public did not help your current situation.
"I'm sorry, but why is this required?" you gathered the little courage you had to ask, putting the papers down on the table. You looked up at the manager, not bothering to hide your fear or nervousness. "I thought idols were supposed to be themselves during interviews and everything. Not... act fake."
"We don‘t act, Y/N," he replied, offering you a little smile. "Astro members are just as real on camera as they are off camera, but there are still certain rules that they must follow. Besides, you‘re not an idol, and until the fans start to like you, you need to appeal to them."
"Okay," you nodded unconvincingly, releasing a shaky breath. You almost flinched when you felt Jinwoo's hand make contact with yours, looking up. "It‘s going to be fine, I‘m sure Aroha’s will love you eventually," Jinwoo gave you a warm smile, reassuringly squeezing your hand.
You couldn't help but smile yourself, believing him just a little bit. "See, you‘re already naturals at this," the manager praised, standing up. "You‘re free to go now. Good luck."
When you arrived outside of the building, there was a long silence between the two of you. “So… do you want to get coffee or something?” Jinwoo asked you, seemingly nervous. “Of course!” You smiled. “I’d love to get to know you better!” You continued. If you were getting married to him, you have at least get to know him.
A few minutes later, you arrived at the shop Jinwoo guided you to. “So, here is where I usually get my coffee. Ladies first!” He said, holding the door open. Hiding your blush, you stepped inside.
You couldn’t believe your eyes. Inside, it was decorated with different sorts of plants, pictures and paintings. Overall, it gave off an amazing vibe. And what’s more, the aroma that hung in the air was absolutely terrific. You already loved this place.
“How did I never happen to come here? This place is amazing!” You let it slip, and earned a chuckle from Jinwoo. “Thanks. Now, what should I order for you?” He asked, a bit curious what your tastes would be. “Just get me the same as you, I think that would be good. Wait, how much does that cost me?”
“Absolutely nothing.” He smiled at you. Jinwoo had this… kind smile, almost angelic. Why didn’t you notice that before? “Wait, nothing?” He nodded at your remark. “That’s right. I’m paying. No but’s, and that’s final.” He smirked, and went over to order.
Meanwhile, you walked around the shop a bit and found this really cute table in the corner, right next to the window. You already saw Jinwoo approaching you with your orders. “How did you know this is my favourite place? I love to look outside from here!” He said enthusiastic, and continued to look at some children outside.
This is when you decided to study his face more. You had heard some good things from MJ, but you didn’t think he would be this handsome…
“Is there something on my face?” Jinwoo said with a smirk.
You wanted to retort with a smart comment, but your brain drew a blank so you settled on a question instead. “No, I was just wondering,“ you took a sip of your drink before continued. “You said that your manager told you to get married... But why me?“
“What do you mean?“ He asked. “I just thought that it‘d be more logical to marry another idol. That would bring popularity for both of you, and there‘s a higher chance of your fans liking the other idol. Isn‘t that how it works?“ you explained your question, carefully watching Jinwoo‘s reactions. This time, he didn‘t answer immediately, trying to figure out the answer himself first.
“I don‘t really know, manager didn‘t tell me much about that,“ he shrugged. “I think your parents agreed to sponsor us if we got married or something. Besides, MJ talked a lot about you, so...“ “I see,“ you nodded, slightly disappointed that you were just a part of a deal. Sure, what else could you expect from an arranged marriage, but you didn‘t think your parents would stoop so low just to get popularity, by making their only child marry some celebrity stranger.
But on the other hand, Jinwoo wasn‘t as bad as you thought he‘d be, so that soothed your anger a little bit. Time flew by as you talked in the little coffee shop, enjoying your drinks and each other‘s company. You found out a lot about Jinwoo, his interests, hobbies and personality traits. In exchange, you told him about yourself, and soon enough you were talking like old friends.
Two hours later, you took your empty cups, standing up to leave. Jinwoo waited for you at the exit while you discarded the paper coffee cups and then you both left the shop, agreeing to end your day there.
The smile you had on from one of Jinwoo’s jokes quickly faded when you saw the ruckus outside. You barely stepped out of the cafe and were immediately blinded by bright lights and shouts from everywhere, overwhelming you. You whipped your head in Jinwoo's direction, looking for some kind of help. Your brain was slowly coming to a conclusion that you got swarmed by paparazzi, but your body didn't follow. Instead, you froze on the spot, scanning the crowd of people wide-eyed.
"Calm down, remember the rules," Jinwoo leaned to whisper in your ear, because that was the only way to communicate with all the yelling and snapping cameras. You tried to recollect yourself, taking a deep breath. You didn't care that much if people liked you, but you didn't want to ruin Jinwoo's image or drag him down.
You decided you will try your best – for him.
Raising your chin up, you straightened your shoulders and began walking down the steps, trying to ignore all the annoying and scary flashing and incoherent questions. Remembering that you were supposed to be a couple, Jinwoo intertwined his fingers with yours, which was both a good act and a good way to tone down your anxiety.
Smiling for a couple of the photographers, you made your way down the street. Even though Jinwoo was calm and polite, you sensed that it took him his all to not run away at that moment. But, you safely made it to a more secluded street, losing all of the media quite quickly.
“Thank god.” You sighed, happy you lost them for now. You also heard Jinwoo make a sigh of relieve, making you aware you were not the only one who thought that wasn’t pleasant. At all.
“Well, that didn’t go as planned.” You stated, and soon after you were both laughing in the middle of the street. “Seriously, I don’t think we could have handled that worse.” Jinwoo chuckled.
“Considering this went quite shitty, do you maybe have time tomorrow? You know, to learn me the basics?” You asked him, not sure what you were expecting, but thinking it might at least help you a bit. “Sure, but I do have training tomorrow. You can come watch if you want, and we can practice paparazzi later?” He questioned you, looking a bit shy. “Of course I want to! I look forward to getting to know the other members beside MJ!” You laughed.
After that was decided, he agreed to walk you home, and when you were standing in front of your door you bid each other goodbye.
You unlocked the door, only to be almost crushed by questions coming from your family members. “Were you with Jinwoo? What did you do? How did he act? Did you kiss?” “Guys, stop!” You yelled, and ran to your room. You couldn’t handle all these questions now, not after what had happened with the paparazzi.
The next morning, you woke up with a nervous feeling. You were excited to meet the members, but at the same time, you were afraid they wouldn’t like you.  I mean, it’s not every day a girl comes by randomly and is engaged to your band member.
“I just hope I can get along with them like I can get along with MJ.” You said out loud, to no one in particular. “Did I hear my name?” A voice said coming from the direction of your door. “Oh god, Myungjun, you scared me!” You yelled, throwing your pillow at him.
“What are you doing here this early anyways?” You continued, curious. Didn’t he have practice like Jinwoo? “Jinjin asked me to pick you up, so you wouldn’t get lost. See, I told you he would take care of you!” He teased. “Okay, let me get dressed real quick and follow you then.”
So, there you were, after putting on a dress and following MJ all the way to the Fantagio building. “This is it. Let me take you to the members. Nothing to worry about, they’re all nice, I promise!” He reassured you, and practically dragged you in by the wrist.
You knock three times on the door, and when a voice replied a vague “come in”, you opened it. Your eyes searched for Jinwoo immediately, desparate to find a familiar face. He looked at you and nodded, giving you a sign to continue.
“Hello. I’m Y/n, Jinwoo’s fiancée. It’s nice to meet you all!”
The practice room erupted with greetings from the boys, surprising you by how accepting and cheerful they were. You settled down on the ground in the corner, leaning against the wall to watch them dance. You had an idea that they'd be good, but the whole practice you stared in awe, amazed by everyone's skills.
"So, did you like it?" Jinwoo asked when after it was over, the boys scattering around the room to gather their things. "Yeah, that was amazing! You're so good!" you nodded enthusiastically, earning yourself a laugh from Jinwoo. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "Wait just a little more, I'll get changed and then we can go." "Sure," you said, standing up from the ground and carefully joining MJ and Sanha's conversation. You got along with all of them pretty well, which surprised you a little bit but you didn't complain.
About 20 minutes later Jinwoo came back and you left the building. As you were walking down a street with no clear destination, you remembered something. "We still need to practice how to deal with publicity," you reminded Jinwoo. He stopped looking around until he spotted a small park further away. "We can go there," he suggested, pointing to it. "It's pretty quiet and paparazzi don't usually come there, so it's a great place to practice." "Yeah, okay," you agreed.
You didn't really care about the location anyway, what was important was nailing all the rules as quickly as possible. You sat down on one of the many benches, leaning back and sighing. Jinwoo dug in his bag, pulling out the 'instructions', as his manager called them. He turned his body sideways, facing you.
"Okay, so first - smile," he read out loud, looking up to see you frowning instead. "It has to be polite and natural, but not too intense and not too fake." he finished, smiling at you exactly like he had just read. You shook your head at how ridiculous all this was. You tried your best to mimic Jinwoo's smile, and he nodded, satisfied. "Pretty good. See, it's easy," he tried to lighten the mood, flipping to the next page.
"Now the harder part. How to act in interviews." "Oh no," you whined, running a hand over your face. "It's not that bad once you'll get used to it. You just have to always answer politely, listen carefully to avoid awkward silences and make jokes to show that you're interesting and charming." "Sure, because being funny is easy," you mocked, making him laugh a little.
"I don't think being charming will be very hard for you," he said mindlessly, looking down and thankfully missing the blush that spread on your cheeks from his comment.
“Right… thanks, I guess.” You added awkwardly, not knowing how to act in this kind of situations. “See? That’s what I mean. You get all flustered! You should be able to react with confidence in further occasions!” Jinwoo said in a happy tone. Wait, was he still learning you things, or was that comment real?
“I think that’s all for today. Will you come see our practice tomorrow, too?” Jinwoo continued. “Yeah, sure!” You nodded, glad you could also bond with his members. You smiled and waved him goodbye, and started on your walk home.
“Hello! What do we have here?” Someone jumped from behind a tree. “Oh god, MJ, please stop scaring me. You know I can’t handle those things!” You softly hit him, embarrassed. “Hey, behave yourself, I brought Sanha too!” You turned around at his words, and there stood the hyper maknae. “Hi Sanha, nice to see you again! But what exactly are you guys doing here?”
“Oh, I couldn’t help but overhear your little training session when I was walking by and… it seems someone has a crush!” MJ yelled, loud enough for the whole street to hear. Honestly, you were glad Jinwoo had walked away already. “Wow, Y/n! I thought this was an arranged marriage?” Sanha questioned, confused.
“Yeah, it is… And shut your mouth MJ! No I do not!” You mocked, and wanted to hit him again, but he had ran away already, knowing you way too well to keep standing at the same place.
“Do you really like Jinjin?” Sanha asked, now on a serious note. “Well… at first, I only continued to see him because of the arranged marriage thing. If I didn’t, my parents would get mad, you know. But I noticed recently that I don’t really mind hanging around Jinwoo? I mean, he’s nice and all, but I don’t think it’s only a friendly feeling. I… think I’m in love?” You asked no one in particular out loud.
“You are?” Jinwoo’s confused voice could be heard behind you.
“Because you wouldn’t be the only one.”
10 notes · View notes
dearmloveg-blog · 6 years
Text
The beginning of two individuals who met under chance of Fate. It all started with two people named Gabriel and Maria. Gabriel is one of many special type of men who has the rarest personality known to men. A talented individual whom can understand the systematic of life, nature, and love. Maria is one of many special type of women who loves to enjoy life in her own perspective. A taste of uniqueness in  Music, Art, film, and etc. She shows the whole world that everything and nothing can be special with just a small look. Thus, these two special individuals began their story with a trip to a small local cigar bar with their mutual friends down in a dark lit alley.
Who would’ve knew just a casual night at a cigar bar with a bit forgetfulness could turn things around after a year. After they split during that night, a year later they come across each other at a bar sitting booth to booth. It is then during this night a fateful encounter happened with Gabriel’s friend; “Drunk David”.
Before the encounter happens, Outside whist smoking a nicely packed cigarette, Gabriel tells his loyal counterpart and partner in crime; Amicable Andy. [Inhale smoke] “You know that girl that is sitting next to our booth?” [Exhale smoke] “I’ve taken a quite bit of interest in her. What do you think?” Amicable Andy replies “I got you bro” [Drops cigarette and dashes toward the booth.] [Gabriel frantically waiting outside the cold winter breeze just playing another night’s scenario] [Several minutes in, Gabriel dashes into the bar]
Before the encounter happens, Inside whist drinking a nicely made cocktail. Maria and her posses talk.  [Drinks cocktail]  “Wow this is a nice bar! we should come here often guys” Maria talks. “Omg I know, You can meet your soul mate here” Mai speaks. Maria replies while putting her drink down “Pfffft!, You know I don’t believe in such plausible belief”. Clara replies to Maria “It’s people like you who finds their soul mate like RIGHT NOW”. Staring at Maria with eyes fully opened. “Hahaha! well well you two, I already have my partner” Mai says. “yes yes yes, We all know, Mai” Everybody replies in sync.
[Enters in Drunk David the legend] He walks in zigzags like he is dancing to a Salsa dance in slow motion. Slowly approaches Maria and her group multicultural girlfriends. “Wazzzzzzzzup Ladies” as he says with all arms out. They all laugh and greets back.
[Arriving to the scene] Now Andy follows up with Drunk David’s introduction to Maria’s booth. Andy strikes a casual conversation waiting for Gabriel to arrive as the Knight in shining armor. Gabriel arrives to the scene. Walking towards Andy and Maria, seemingly confident but with a hidden frail mind of not trying to fuck this opportunity up. Andy reminds himself with a famous line in “How I met your mother”. Gabriel gives Andy the cue! Andy says “Maria, Have you met my friend Gabriel?”. Thus, the fateful Encounter has happened…
“Hi, I’m Gabriel. It’s my pleasure to meet you!” Introducing himself.  *Shakes Hand “Uhmm Have we met before?” asked Maria “Yeah? Have we met before? I think I know you?” thinking that what Maria said was a pick up line that has been dead for decades. “I’m pretty sure we’ve met but where…?” Says Maria. “Usually I’m really great with memories and if you were never part of my memories… I’m pretty sure we’ve never met til today.” Says Gabriel. “but… but… I really think I know you, I’ve seen you somewhere before.” Maria replies. “Well! it’s out of our hands now. So… let us start a new.” answered Gabriel “Let’s start off with an introduction. I’m Gabriel, What is your name?” Asks Gabriel “I’m Maria, Nice to meet you!” Answers Maria. “Nice to meet you too Maria! and so….” [Gabriel and Maria stares deeply into each others eyes] [Record playing Jazz Music in the Back] So the night goes on… a night where two strangers begin Fateful journey at a local bar. This was the night that changed their lives forever. [Music Fades] ‘Maria! My friend is too drunk! I’m going to leave! TEXT ME! BYE” Yells Drunk Gabriel.
If Love wasn’t so complicated, Gabriel already knew when he met Maria second time; he fell in love. If love at first sight can be explained in this modern society… This was the night, when Gabriel and Maria had looked into each others eyes before saying hello. During this moment, time really did pause for a second when Gabriel looked into the spheres of Maria’s eyes. A relaxing comfortable fell upon Gabriel at this moment. He isn’t the type to believe in such nonsense but ‘twas the night he could say that… just maybe… It can be true. As for Maria, she could say the same. The same type of stare when a person falls in love. However, to her, it was more nostalgia than love at first sight. Nonetheless, soon she will realize is was love at first sight. It is Friday. The time where young people go out to experience the time of euphoria. A moment to forget how hard the week was. Music is all over the city. The city lights look brighter than ever. People are passing by as they laugh and smile. This is the night Gabriel had asked Maria to join him for dinner, in which he had to muster all his courage to send one text; “Any plans for tonight?” Gabriel is a man who loves surprises and loves to see how people react. So to find out if Maria was a cool chill girl or just another girl you see everyday, he purposely texted her on that night and to see if she was willing to come out. Gabriel embraced for impact as he patiently waited for Maria’s reply. Maria replies “Sounds cool, around what time?”. Gabriel smiled as he saw Maria’s reply. The cold silence that was surrounding Gabriel disappears and he tells Alexa to play the song “The Way You Look Tonight” by Frank Sinatra. Lets skip all the cringeness Gabriel does while he opens his wardrobe with a toothbrush in his mouth half naked dancing to the stars.
Maria is a women who is ever so calm and diligent. she loves the small details in life. While out with her friends, suddenly, a vibration was felt. She took a stare at her phone. A sense of mysterious happiness and shock surged over her body. During this time, She did not know why but she just went with the flow. Realistically, She was more entertained by the fact that she wanted to find out why she felt like she knew Gabriel from before. Maria, without knowing, creepily smiled at her phone as she replies back with Yes. She soon goes back home, and tells Alexa to play “Riding High” by Ella Fitzgerald. Let’s also skip what Maria does at home... 
As Gabriel sees Maria walking towards him after arriving to the destination, Gabriel saw her glimmering in light as she wore a Red Dress. As Maria walks towards Gabriel, Maria saw him cool as the night ocean as he wore a brown leather jacket. Thus Gabriel and Maria’s night started with them meeting at a Mexican Cantina.
The first time they sat in front of each other was unknowingly the Cigar Bar night. A year later, The second time they sat across from each other was at the Mexican restaurant. However, this is the first time they get to know each other in a more curious approach. Questions flew, Experience flew, and Opinions Flew. They chatter about what life is, what life is about, and what life should be. Just like any pre-romantic relationship, where as the “List” was being checked unconsciously. “Hi, wow you look amazing” says Gabriel “haha, So do you, Prince Charming.” replies Maria. “No, I’m a frog. You might have to give me a kiss so I can turn into Prince Charming.” “Then you can stay being a frog for the rest of your life” ”Ouch, Ribbit Ribbit” “Hey! look at that, there are alot of coloful umbrellas above us! isn’t it beautiful?” “Do you know why they put umbrellas on the ceiling?” “Why?” “Because they don’t want couples kissing each other when rain falls” “What?” Maria looking really confused. “Yeah, Before they renovated this place, there was a myth that when a couple kiss at THIS exact spot in the rain, they will fall in love and live happily ever after.” “ohh that is interesting, but why did they put all these umbrellas?” “haha it’s because many people who would visit would show Public Display of Affection.” “Aww thats a shame.” They Enter the restaurant and orders their meal. After a casual conversation of them getting to know each other and checking off each others list. Maria finds out that they did, IN FACT, meet before.  Gabriel: So before I used to be a chef at a certain mexican restaurant. That’s how much I love mexican food! Maria: wait I had a friend who worked there before!  Gabriel: Is his name Donald? Maria: YEAH omg, did you happen to go to a Cigar Bar one night? Gabriel: oh what? yeah how did you know? Maria: We did meet before! i told you so! I was the girl at the Cigar Bar! Gabriel: O M G, that was you? WOW this is just too strange. Maria: WOW what a coincidence. You owe me a wish hehe.  At this very moment, they find out they did meet each other a year ago. That night, they all knew everyone they went with except each other. After the restaurant, Maria’s friend arrives and we head to a bar and hang out with friends. The night ended when Gabriel unconsciously held hands with Maria in order to get out of a huge crowd. Hearts were beating erratically.
Night 2, If Maria and Gabriel knew what Fate was… it is at this night where they have met between the moving subway and the station stop. Like two lost birds searching for each other. Suddenly they meet face to face with one another unexpectedly… at Queen’s Crossing Train Platform 6-1.
This was the moment where Gabriel had to pull out all his knowledge on the game of dating. He thought various scenarios and places to go in order to maximize the potential epitome of romantic dates. Surely you might think Gabriel is a type of man to know where to go on this perfect date in a click of snap? NO, Gabriel is a man who creates plans A through Z. And sub-atomically overthinks in every way on what could go wrong and what could go right. Lets just say, He is too much of a perfection; Werido. Seemingly, in his mind, he choose the best situation for the date; An Ice Rink. Why you ask? Because he can hold hands with Maria without being to cringey! Thus, the second date started with a sprinkle of a fate encounter and pair of ice skates. [Subway Stops in front of 6-1] [Maria and Gabriel looks at each shocked] Gabriel: Is this fate? Maria: I think so.
[Each other laughs] [Subway goes…] “Maria, I’m going to be honest with you… I have butterflies in my stomach and it’s not the good kind.” “What do you mean? Do you need to take a poop as well?” “HAHAHA, no not that! I’m scared… this is my second time ice skating and I have a feeling that I might fall on my ass tonight.” “I ice skated a few times, It’s one of the two favorite sports I enjoy. It’s not that hard…” “The butterflies are fluttering in my stomach the close we get… OMG” “STOP, You’re getting me scared now.” [Ticketing Office] “How many tickets?” “Give us 2 tickets” “The total come’s out to be 26 dollars” *Arrives to the Ice Rink Gabriel: “Maria, this is goodbye, I’m going to die tonight and when I do… I want you to go my house and throw my laptop in a tub of water.” Maria: “Why?” Gabriel: “Just don’t ask questions.” Maria: “It’s your fault now, I’m scared to go in the Ice Rink.” Gabriel: “This is the time that Nike has been telling us to do our whole lives; Just Do It!” *Gabriel skates off to the rink Maria: “oh my Gosh but here I go!” *Maria Falls on her butt* Gabriel: “Are you ok....... WOAH” *Gabriel Falls as well*
As both of they fall, they laugh it off as well. After falling, they were gliding elegantly under a night of a full moon. After ice skating, both of them go to a cafe and order a drink due to heavy dehydration. 
Maria: oh my goodness, this Mango Apple Smoothie looks so delicious. I’ll have on of those please. Gabriel: that’s a weird selection of a drink. I feel as though that is too sweet. I don’t think it will hydrate you. Gabriel: Excuse me, does this Apple tea taste like apple?  Maria: Are you stupid? thats why it’s called apple tea hahaha! Gabriel: Touche you got me. I’ll have one Apple please.  *Background Music- You are the sunshine of my life by Lisa Ono.
After having being hydrated they begin to walk around the mall and head over to an arcade. Gabriel wants to impress Maria so he tries to win prizes for her. However, the opposite happens. In every they compete with each other, Maria was the unanimous winner. It somehow fuels Gabriel’s competitive spirit and challenges her to a game of Air Hockey. Ring, Ring, Ring in under 1 minute of competing each other in Air Hockey; 3 points for Maria, 0 points for Gabriel. SUDDENLY, a 100 small air pucks starts to release from a small hole and catches Maria and Gabriel off guard. There were too many pucks for anyone to concentrate and to anyone who witnessed such a air hockey game, it looked like two idiots flailing their arms side to side. The score? 100 to 27. The victor? of course the Undefeated Champion of Air Hockey; Maria. Afterwards they go to a bar and meet some friends. Then they walk underneath a full moons light while holding hands in silence. The night ends as Gabriel see Maria takes an Uber home. 
The 3rd Night
Calls Maria in the middle of the night on a Monday. “Hey you, are you busy tomorrow?” “Not that I am, what’s up?” “Let’s do something crazy tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 6pm” “I didn’t even give you a reply but okay!” “Yeah, See you tomorrow” “mmhm, See you tomorrow” This was the night. The night that’ll change the fate of two wandering people. The night Gabriel was going to ask Maria to be his girlfriend. In Gabriel’s rule of dating, he can only have 3 dates before making everything official. Usually women rarely makes it to the 2nd date. This is a rule that only applied to Gabriel because of his belief in 3rd times the charm. 1 step too quick and you fall, 1 step too late and you fall. This was a quote to raise Gabriel’s Morale. This was to make Gabriel have 5 huge seconds of courage. Thus 3rd times the charm. Arrives to Gabriel’s favorite place in the city. Full of history and art. A place where if he wanted to have the chance to meet his fated one and ask her out; This is the place. It’s a place you can see the full view of the city and looks amazingly beautiful at night. Gabriel takes Maria on a tour to his secret passageways and alleyways. Before arriving to the restaurant, he takes Maria to a store she would like to look at. While looking around the store, Gabriel notices Maria intensely staring at a Red Bracelet.
Maria: Wow this is really pretty! Gabriel: ah ha ha, it sure does. Hey look at these Owls! aren’t they cute? Maria: yeah... but  Gabriel: hey let’s go! it’s getting too late.  Maria: oh okay. *While walking down towards the restaurant.  Maria: My Mother always told me that wearing a Red Bracelet bring people fortune.  Gabriel: ah ha ha did she? Hey, by the way, what kind of flowers do you like? Maria: hmm I just like them all,  probably roses? Gabriel: ohhh I love Dandelions, You get to make a wish when you blow all the seeds out. No flower can give you a wish. Maria: interesting..  They walk around and he takes her to his favorite restaurant which is available on the apex of the hill. It was not an expensive meal nor a exquisite interior. The restaurant looks shabby and cold but there was a line of 50 people waiting. The is amazing and made the night of both of them. They walk and walk through a beautiful alley of traditional looking houses. They walk through monuments and even a library. They shared their favorite books to read and Gabriel could not find an opportunity... all he needed was courage. The night was getting too late and he needed just a 5 second window to let out his feelings. Maria suddenly suggested that there was a cafe she used to go. This was the moment. the moment when Gabriel to gather all the courage he can in order to confess. While walking to the cafe, people were walking in slow motion. lights were shining more brightly than they ever could have. Out of nowhere, there they stood in the cafe that will change their lives. Will they become strangers or lovers?  They sat down next to a window where you can see from above people walking and talking. She tells him about this place and that her friends would come here. It was a very minimalist cafe on the 5 floor. slow jazz music playing around. Gabriel took a huge breathe and exhaled. He was now ready. Gabriel: Maria, What do you think of me?  Maria: uhmm I think your nice ... you are very caring towards your friends. We have alot in common. Gabriel: I think of you... all the time. I have no idea in my rational brain that you keep coming up everytime. Everything thing I do, It starts to think about you. I like you alot. Will you go out me?  Maria: Okay. I would love to.
Gabriel faints from the shock. just kidding. However, the intense atmosphere starts to die out and began to be comfortable. After 10 minutes, the Cafe closes and so does the night. 
2 years later, Maria and Gabriel had a falling out. Maria is at the airport leaving to London. She sits in the aisle seat with no one seating by her side. As she waits for the plane to fly, She starts to cry and remembers all the memories she had. She falls asleep while listening to music. The plane lifts off and a few minutes later a person seats beside her. She continues to sleep. A few hour later, She wakes up and stares to her right side. There Gabriel was siting beside her and believe this to be a dream, She pinches herself. It’s not a dream, and Gabriel, while with his eyes closed, tells Maria “Did you sleep well Princess”? He opens his eyes and they both stare at each other as if time had stopped. Gabriels theory of 3rd times the charm was wrong. There is no time because it is infinite. The plane flies away in the sun setting and above the clouds.
0 notes
realrhythmskrp · 7 years
Photo
Tumblr media
DISPATCH, (04/19/17): BKB Entertainment has officially released information about leader and main vocalist, Kim Wonseok, on PARAL/L’s official website! Wonseok is a ‘90 liner and has been beloved by fans since his debut in 2011. Find out more about Wonseok below!
I, KIM WONSEOK, have read and understand the terms and conditions as my position of LEADER and agree to honor the standards that are to be expected of me as an employee of BKB ENTERTAINMENT.
OOC INFORMATION
Preferred name: Ji
Pronouns: she/her
Timezone: GMT+1
Other muses: N/A
Password (for reservations only): dangerous
Skype: N/A :c
IC INFORMATION
Faceclaim: Lee Kikwang of Highlight
Name: Kim Wonseok
Stage name (if applicable): N/A
Idol concept: At first, his concept was supposed to be that of a ‘church oppa’ – with the kind boy next door vibe. That, however, conflicted with the controversies he soon got wrapped up in so it was quickly changed to something more fitting (and thus believable): the grandpa. Still kind, still caring, but also stereotypically straightforward yet measured. Wonseok welcomed the change because he no longer has to feel like he’s wearing a mask most of the time, since the new concept is much closer to his real personality. Of course there are tweaks here and there, a lot of things held back and plenty of feigned smiles but that is inevitable in the business. While never entirely relaxed, he is no longer on edge everytime a camera is around and can thus show a more natural side of him, which allows jokes to come easier too and has overall increased his popularity. If he’s honest, he thinks some of the controversies could have been avoided if the company had introduced him as the grandfather from the start, as people would have known not to misunderstand his dry and occasionally cynical comments. Or maybe it wouldn’t have changed a thing – he’s not so naive as to believe that the public won’t find a reason to dislike someone no matter what they do.
Birth date and age: March 30th, 1990 – 27
Company name: BKB Entertainment
Group Name (if applicable): PARAL/L
Group Position (if applicable): leader
Strengths:  His biggest strength no doubt lies in his vocal prowess. Naturally gifted with a unique but pleasant voice, he is said to possess 'caramel vocal chords’, which he has been rigorously training since his early teens. Thus, he has acquired stability in both lower and higher registers and can usually belt out notes without any straining whatsoever. After all, his vocals are the one thing the public most often praises him for.
Although most of it happens behind the scenes, Wonseok’s leadership qualities are notable as well. Half a decade into their career, the group is still his top priority and he believes the secret to their lasting success is maintaining harmony among the members, which is what he works towards at all times. Here, he’s always trying to keep every member’s best interest in mind to find a common goal for everyone. He also firmly believes in solving problems as they arise as not to let a wound fester.
While his sense of humor is what got him into most of the controversies he was involved in so far, it’s also the only reason why he always gets invited on variety shows again anyway. Cynical, witty, honest and dry, he’s a valuable asset to any talk show – as long as it isn’t geared towards children, anyway.
Despite everything, he is highly motivated to keep going. Making music is still what he wants to do for a living and that knowledge helps him pull through whatever difficulties he faces in the business more easily, be it working without a break for months or enduring the hate he receives.
Weaknesses:  Tying in with his affinity for talk formats, he is an exceptionally bad match for shows that require body gags, aegyo, or anything else of the sort. It’s embarrassing, in his opinion, and a field he gladly leaves for the other, younger members. Acting falls into this category too and is hence something he has little to no interest in doing (with the exception of musicals!).
Of course he is not a bad dancer, per se, just not much of a natural either. PARAL/L’s choreographies are never easy and he certainly doesn’t mess them up, but that requires hours upon hours upon hours of practice every single time, so staying behind at the practice room and pulling all-nighters to avoid messing up has become a habit.
Generally not a negative trait but very much so for an idol, Wonseok is a bad liar - to a large part also because he despises doing so. As such, he is sometimes too honest. There are only two options: he either doesn’t mention something at all (be it scandals or secrets), or he tells the truth.
For someone who spends as much time worrying about the feelings of other people as he does, he’s not in tune with his own. He has a hard time opening up to people and tends to internalize everything. Sometimes, it actually takes him a while to figure them out because he is too focused on something else at the time. For example, he could get into a fight with his little sister in the morning, then go to work like nothing happened and only feel bothered by it at night, once he settles down.
Positive traits: diligent, empathetic, quick-witted
Negative traits: stoic, self-conscious, workaholic
PERSONAL HISTORY
1 year old and resolute - “That boy will grow up to be just like his father. Stubborn as a mule.” Baby Kim Wonseok is yelling over everything his grandmother is saying and foolish as people are around children, his family is taking it as a good sign; one of strength and energy. He’s just hungry but that isn’t nearly as impressive so no one wants to hear it – and he keeps yelling.
7 years old and calm - “You’ll run for school president, right?” His mother is not so much asking as she is demanding as they’re sharing the dinner table for once. He’s in elementary school, an only child, his father is a surgeon and his mother is a lawyer (and no one knows how and if that works). Ironically, little Wonseok is the one they expect to do great things. His father comes home and goes to sleep. His mother comes home and nags. Wonseok comes home and does everything. Cooking, cleaning, his homework, then studying. “We have your nanny for that,” his mother scolds him often. What she doesn’t understand is that it is the only time of relaxation he has, doing menial tasks and not using his head for once. As long as he performs well and remains in the top three of his school, she doesn’t care very much. She just likes complaining, he thinks and lets her. Her job is stressful.
10 years old and empathetic - “You don’t understand. You’re part of the most perfect family of Gimhae,” his best friend reprimands him during one of their regular joined study sessions, which they’re using for games more often than not. His parents are getting a divorce and he’s right – Wonseok doesn’t know what that’s like. His parents are still together somehow, though he doesn’t see much of it except for when they all go to church together on Sundays. In fact, his mother is currently pregnant again. He doesn’t know the feeling of losing one’s anchor, of having to let go one or the other, of fearing a change that will make everything different and weird and wrong. He doesn’t know it but that doesn’t mean he can’t help and offer to be at least one constant.
12 years old and bold – “You’re scary, like one of those ruthless businessmen in dramas my mom likes to watch.” Again, Wonseok can count on his best friend to call him out. His baby sister is the sunshine of his life and he can’t help but feel like he’s her parent more than their biological ones. Measured by the amount of time he spends with her and effort he puts in, he is more than they will ever be. At home, he is bright and caring and buzzing with energy. Outside, he’s become quiet as he has lost sight of everything but academics and the things his parents deem important and worthy of his attention. He doesn’t speak much and it’s been a long time since he’s last made a new friend – since he’s last spoken to anyone without needing anything from them or vice versa, actually. His best friend is right, undoubtedly, and Wonseok decides that he doesn’t want to become a robot and signs up for choir instead of the math athletes.
14 years old and tired - “We get that this is puberty. Your rebellious phase. We paid for vocal and piano lessons; we were understanding. But an idol? Out of the question. Snap out of it, Kim Wonseok.” His mother means well, he knows, she just likes complaining. She’s worried because it is an uncertain future, not one of the most stable and secure careers out there and she thinks he’s cut out for more than that. Not the first thing about how he feels more alive on stage than he ever has off it or how he’s finally coming out of his shell again reaches her ears. Feelings aren’t something they talk about in this household. His mother means well, he knows, but people can do the worst things with the best intentions.
16 years old and headstrong - “We’ve never interfered in who you choose to spend your time with but that Jaeyoung is below you, son. You don’t want that to reflect badly upon the family, right?” His father dislikes Wonseok’s best friend because he’s gay. Of course he does, as the loyal church-goer he is, pretending to pray to a God he really doesn’t know anything about. At this point, he is beyond caring. He’s had enough. This is it, he thinks and packs his bags, bids farewell to his beloved little sister who doesn’t understand what he’s saying and leaves behind his hometown for the uncertainty that is his future in Seoul, his happiness in music.
19 years old and determined - “When are you coming back?”, his sister asks and he can’t answer. Time passes and not much changes. Wonseok has never quite found back to who he was before the expectations and responsibilities but he’s happy nowadays. His career isn’t going anywhere since he signed with BKB Entertainment three years prior but he’s not one to give up easily or be knocked down by harsh words during an evaluation. This is the path he’s chosen and he’s going to walk it all the way to the end, wherever it may lead, so he sweats and bleeds and smiles through it all.
21 years old and hardworking - “And today’s Winner is… PARAL/L, congratulations!” Finally, he has debuted as the leader of PARAL/L and is met with an overwhelming amount of success right away. It’s hard to grasp and he tells the others not to let it go to their heads while carrying on like nothing has changed himself, staying behind to practice whenever they don’t have a schedule and sleeping almost exclusively in the van that brings them from one show to the next. On the inside, he’s feeling it all but he’s the leader and he knows that it falls to him to make sure everyone stays focused. This is only the beginning, after all. He wonders if his parents are watching.
24 years old and mature - “It makes me so angry that they keep misunderstanding things just for the sake of making you look bad!” His sister has read news articles about him before he has bothered checking them. They always say the same thing anyway. Usually, people like him for his sense of humor and the way he jokes around with people, always teasing, a bit gruff but never malicious. Wonseok never minces his words but he makes sure not to hurt anyone’s feelings nevertheless. At least he tries to, since that is the last thing he wants. Netizens are not as forgiving as his colleagues who raise an eyebrow at him, then see his grin and laugh along with him. Netizens like to think he’s mean and perhaps narcissistic. They don’t care that there are a thousand scenes proving the exact opposite. It’s not the first time this has happened, so he swallows his feelings and doesn’t comment on the issue. That method has proven effective. It’ll blow over; it always does.
27 years old and unchanging - “You’ll go solo afterwards, right?” His mother is not so much asking as she is demanding. Same old. After he has become successful, they have deemed him no longer a shame to the family and accepted him back as one of their own. Wonseok doesn’t blame them for the people they’ve become; he doesn’t like it but it isn’t entirely their fault either. The future, once again, is uncertain now that their contract is ending soon – only one more year until the big decision. Personally, he’s very attached to the group that has made his dreams a reality and the friends who have stayed with him throughout it all, but not so much the company that treats them as marionettes rather than humans. His journey is not at an end, that much he knows for sure, and making music is still his happiness and his dream. In the end, it will depend on what the others want to do. Ideally, Wonseok would like to transfer to a different label as a whole, as PARAL/L, but he would never force the others (or anyone) into something they don’t want for themselves.
1 note · View note
Text
Season 6, Episode 13 - “Cece’s Boys”
Cece gets Jess and Reagan to help her find new models; the guys plan to enjoy a day at the spa.
Episode 13 treats us with an update on Coach and May. They are hosting a foreign exchange student and live in North Carolina. Schmidt is perplexed that they weren’t aware that Coach moved and is thrown into a downward spiral of worry that the same will happen to him. Remember that time they ran into Coach in New York City? I’m looking forward to another cameo later in the season, fingers crossed! Nick is weirdly okay with it, “Realistically we’ll probably only see each other two or three more times before we die and that’s sad, but not that sad. What’s for dinner?” This just makes Schmidt even more uneasy. Before he can keep freaking out, Cece enters with her own problem. Big modeling agencies poached her client that she was going to put up for Sausage Crunchies and she doesn’t know what to do. Jess convinces her to worry about keeping Donovan and recruits Raisin to help find new clients. Afterall, selling a job is like selling drugs and Raisin does that everyday. Jess encourages them all to put their heads in. Schmidt corrects her, “What are we supposed to do, smoosh our heads together?” They all put their hands in and Winston slays the put-fake-cat-paw-on-top-bit because he’s not tired of it!
Jess and Raisin begin their mission at the bar. There’s a glaring lack of options so the pair approach two very average looking sea slug guys. Their conversation is so boring I didn’t even write it down. Raisin pulls Jess away to convince Jess that they are not model material. Jess defends by saying to not judge a book by it’s cover, but Raisin points out that models literally exist to be on covers. Touché, Raisin.
Meanwhile Cece is panicked that Donovan is about to quit. Fortunately for her, his big news is that he’s decided to stop wearing beanies. Cece is relieved, but learns that big agencies are trying to woo him so she tells him that he is her first priority.
Back at the loft, Nick and Winston munch on some Sausage Crunchies. Nick describes the taste as average, but the aftertaste as outstanding. Schmidt is paranoid that he is going to become an outstanding aftertaste. He’s concerned that the loft is their tether and once it’s gone they’re going to be spread across the earth like Rod Stewart’s offspring. He wants to keep them together with something like a dark secret or a timeshare. Winston says he will miss Schmidt’s poetry and I could not agree more. He has quite the way with words. He goes on to suggest that they need a ritual. Winston suggests standing in a circle and burning chicken bones. Some say that Winnie the Bish is a light-hearted guy, but it sounds to me like he’s seen some serious stuff as a cop. Schmidt turns down the literal ritual idea and specifies he wants something more like a shared experience. Nick suggests getting super weird into metal detectors, but Schmidt has an a better idea.
At the bar, Jess and Raisin continue to attempt to recruit a variety of hot guys. The pair keep getting turned down, in fact one of the guys explains that he’s busy trying to figure out why the bees have disappeared, and if a couple of guys in the bar can’t figure it out, Raisin doesn’t know who can. Jess has an equally awkward run-in with a guy who is apparently an only child after yesterday. We quickly gloss past that to Raisin spotting a hot guy strutting into the bar. He claims that if he doesn’t swing his arms, he’ll fall. And that kind of intelligence is exactly what they were looking for. I’m going to choose to not judge how they’re treating every model on this show (other than Cece) and move on to Jess’ fishing analogy. “I’m the bait, you’re the hook.” “I don’t think the bait thinks of them as a team. “That’s such a hook thing to say, you’re such a hook.” This honestly just came off lowkey rude, but since it was Jess I don’t think she meant it that way.
Schmidt convinced Nick and Winston to have a spa day which they surprisingly enjoyed. Even though Nick wore his shirt during the massage, no bottoms though. Mad respect to anyone who Donald Duck’s in public. The guys receive wet towels to smell which Nick thoroughly enjoys, “How can a smell be both hot and cold at the same time, I ask?” Their enjoyment takes a turn for the worse when an employee informs them that it’s time for their Brazilian, aka scrotum wax.
There is a quick exchange in Cece’s office when she introduces Dean to Donovan and they have a confusing argument about being models, leaving Donovan feeling jealous. “The line between what we’re doing and being creepy is so thin,” Raisin states to Jess at the bar. Cece calls Jess in a panic, overwhelmed with taking care of her two models. Jess wants to do anything to help Cece and ends up lying to her, saying they have two more guys on their way. Of course those two guys end up being the average sea slug ones they first approached.
Jess and Raisin take them back to the loft to get them ready for the Sausage Crunchies audition. Jess gives them white tees to wear from her roommate’s earthquake supply. I’m going to take a wild guess that that roommate is Nick Miller. Raisin is not convinced that this plan will work and wants to bail, but Jess refuses. Raisin gives in and suggests they give the guys makeovers including all the eye makeup that Schmidt’s got. While this is happening, Donovan locks Dean in the closet of Cece’s office, Cece yells at him, and he leaves.
Nick continues to tell Schmidt he wants to leave the spa, “I don’t want the hairs ripped off my testicles by a stranger, I think it’s there for a reason.” Schmidt assures Nick this isn’t some back alley waxing. There’s a short tangent consisting of if those exist and what emergency would constitute going to one. Schmidt desperately tries to convince Nick to stay for a reason he is about to reveal, following Winston’s graphic description of why he also wants to leave, “I have off the charts follicle strength. It will be a bloodbath down there, a real crime scene, so I’m leaning no.” Nick agrees that no one touches his purse! Schmidt finally spills his heart out to his two friends, citing the reason that their lives will go on without him (including walking in on the other in the bathroom and coming up with clever names for the wifi network like This Is 4D) and they’ll lose touch. He leaves to get his sac waxed, “I’m going to go shuck this corn!” What is up with this episode and off-putting descriptions of the human body?
Jess and Raisin take the average guys to the audition, gaining confidence on their way, just to have it shattered by all of the attractive guys there. This makes me wonder if Robby had been in the episode, if it would have gone down differently. I’m sure he would have a hookup or two since he’s rich and has a Grammy. Anyways, Cece is not impressed by their choices. Jess defends them, but Raisin gives up and the pair decide to fire them. While Jess starts to let them down, Raisin realizes that they are the only two guys eating the Sausage Crunchies and that’s the angle that Cece should pitch.
At the spa, Schmidt is ready to be waxed. Before it begins, Nick and Winston show up like the band of brothers they are. Schmidt is over the moon, “Three friends going on the same, silent journey. Together, yet separate. Alone, yet closer than ever.” He’s interrupted by the screams of pain from Nick and Winston and soon joins them in pain as their waxing is shown in slow motion. Like I said, so off-putting and downright painful.
The episode concludes back in the loft. The three women are in the kitchen where Cece tells Jess and Raisin that Dean got the job and the three men are lying on the couch in pain. Schmidt claims the women will never know the pain of a sac waxing. Jess points out childbirth and Raisin says, “Weekly wax, top to tail.” Schmidt, Winston, and Nick completely ignore this and instead bask in their pride of following through on their ritual.
Originally Aired 1/17/2017
2 notes · View notes
latoyarubalcava3546 · 6 years
Text
Moses Farrow Shares HIS Side Of Woody Allen Accusation, Claims Mother Mia Farrow Was The Real Child Abuser — And Dylan Responds!
Wow. This is quite a different story.
Woody Allen doesn't have many defenders these days, but one voice speaking out may carry a lot of weight -- someone who was there the day of the crime for which he's accused.
Moses Farrow, son of Woody and Mia Farrow, has only briefly spoken out about this in the past, but now he's written his own account online, one he says he hopes will dispel the "inaccurate and misleading attacks" on his father.
Photos: Stars Who Have Spoken Out Against — Or Defended — Working With Woody Allen!
He writes:
"I was present for everything that transpired in our house before, during, and after the alleged event. Now that the public hysteria of earlier this year has died down a little and I have some hope that the truth can get a fair hearing, I want to share my story."
Moses, who was 14 at the time, says Mia had warned him and his two younger siblings, Dylan and Satchel (whom you know these days as Ronan Farrow), not to let Woody out of their sight during that afternoon visit:
"She was understandably furious: seven months earlier she had learned that he was in an intimate relationship with my 21-year-old sister Soon-Yi, after discovering Polaroids of her in Woody's apartment. For months now, she had been drilling it into our heads like a mantra: Woody was "evil," "a monster," "the devil," and Soon-Yi was "dead to us." This was the constant refrain, whether or not Woody was around. (So often did she repeat it that Satchel would announce to one of our nannies, "My sister is fucking my father." He had just turned four.) My mother was our only source of information about Woody – and she was extremely convincing."
Moses says Mia actually said Woody was an "excellent father" until she found out about Soon-Yi, at which point "everything changed."
But he claims it was actually Mia's suggestion that Woody get to know her adult adopted daughter (not his relation in any legal or blood way, clarifies Moses) that brought them together:
"Woody and Soon-Yi rarely even spoke during her childhood. It was my mother who first suggested, when Soon-Yi was 20, that Woody reach out and spend time with her. He agreed and started taking her to Knicks games. That's how their romance started. Yes, it was unorthodox, uncomfortable, disruptive to our family and it hurt my mother terribly. But the relationship itself was not nearly as devastating to our family as my mother's insistence on making this betrayal the center of all our lives from then on."
But Moses goes on to claim there were issues before that relationship began.
He points not to Woody but to Mia as the alleged source of abuse!
Related: Javier Bardem Was 'Very Shocked By This Sudden Treatment' Of Woody Allen
In a brief history of the dysfunction in his family, he expounds:
"There were numerous alcohol-fueled arguments between her parents, and Mia told me that she was the victim of attempted molestation within her own family. Her brother, my uncle John, who visited us many times when we were young, is currently in prison on a conviction of multiple child molestation charges. (My mother has never publicly commented on this or expressed concern about his victims.) My uncle Patrick and his family would often come by, but those visits could end abruptly as Mia and Patrick would often wind up arguing. Patrick would commit suicide in 2009."
He also touches on Mia's unspoken earlier years:
"My mother, of course, had her own darkness. She married 50-year-old Frank Sinatra when she was only 21. After they divorced, she moved in to live with her close friend Dory Previn and her husband André. When my mother became pregnant by André, the Previns' marriage broke up, leading to Dory's institutionalization. It was never spoken of in our home, of course, and not even known to me until a few years ago. But, as I look at it – as a licensed therapist as well as an eyewitness – it's easy to see the seeds of dysfunction that would flourish within our own home."
All that serves as background to set up Moses' accusations of straight up child abuse against Mia!
He writes:
"I'm sure my mother had good intentions in adopting children with disabilities from the direst of circumstances, but the reality inside our walls was very different. It pains me to recall instances in which I witnessed siblings, some blind or physically disabled, dragged down a flight of stairs to be thrown into a bedroom or a closet, then having the door locked from the outside. She even shut my brother Thaddeus, paraplegic from polio, in an outdoor shed overnight as punishment for a minor transgression."
He says he wasn't spared either:
"Once, when I was given a new pair of jeans, I thought they would look cool if I cut off a couple of the belt loops. When Mia saw what I had done, she spanked me repeatedly and had me remove all my clothing, saying, "You're not deserving of any clothes" and making me stand naked in the corner of her room, in front of my older siblings who had just returned from dinner with their father André."
Moses says Soon-Yi got it most often:
"When Soon-Yi was young, Mia once threw a large porcelain centerpiece at her head. Luckily it missed, but the shattered pieces hit her legs. Years later, Mia beat her with a telephone receiver."
Moses' most shocking accusation comes next -- that Mia was the cause of his sister's Tam's suicide:
"Most media sources claim my sister Tam died of "heart failure" at the age of 21. In fact, Tam struggled with depression for much of her life, a situation exacerbated by my mother refusing to get her help, insisting that Tam was just "moody." One afternoon in 2000, after one final fight with Mia, which ended with my mother leaving the house, Tam committed suicide by overdosing on pills. My mother would tell others that the drug overdose was accidental, saying that Tam, who was blind, didn't know which pills she was taking. But Tam had both an ironclad memory and sense of spatial recognition. And, of course, blindness didn't impair her ability to count."
He says his brother Thaddeus witnessed the fight firsthand and told him about it -- before he also committed suicide two years ago.
This is all horrifying behavior if true.
Related: Woman Claims R. Kelly Sexually Assaulted Her & Gave Her Herpes In New Lawsuit
But the abuse Moses says he went through leads directly to his version of the accusations against Woody:
"Fighting back was not a viable option. One summer day, Mia accused me of leaving the curtains closed in the TV room. They had been drawn the day before when Dylan and Satchel were watching a movie. She insisted that I had closed them and left them that way. Her friend Casey had come over to visit and while they were in the kitchen, my mother insisted I had shut the curtains. At that point, I couldn't take it anymore and I lost it, yelling, "You're lying!" She shot me a look and took me into the bathroom next to the TV room. She hit me uncontrollably all over my body. She slapped me, pushed me backwards and hit me on my chest, shouting, "How dare you say I'm a liar in front of my friend. You're the pathological liar." I was defeated, deflated, beaten and beaten down. Mia had stripped me of my voice and my sense of self. It was clear that if I stepped even slightly outside her carefully crafted reality, she would not tolerate it. It was an upbringing that made me, paradoxically, both fiercely loyal and obedient to her, as well as deeply afraid."
Moses goes on to give his account of the afternoon -- and claims what Dylan now says couldn't possibly have happened:
"As the "man of the house" that day, I had promised to keep an eye out for any trouble, and I was doing just that. I remember where Woody sat in the TV room, and I can picture where Dylan and Satchel were. Not that everybody stayed glued to the same spot, but I deliberately made sure to note everyone's coming and going. I do remember that Woody would leave the room on occasion, but never with Dylan. He would wander into another room to make a phone call, read the paper, use the bathroom, or step outside to get some air and walk around the large pond on the property.
Along with five kids, there were three adults in the house, all of whom had been told for months what a monster Woody was. None of us would have allowed Dylan to step away with Woody, even if he tried. Casey's nanny, Alison, would later claim that she walked into the TV room and saw Woody kneeling on the floor with his head in Dylan's lap on the couch. Really? With all of us in there? And if she had witnessed that, why wouldn't she have said something immediately to our nanny Kristi? (I also remember some discussion of this act perhaps taking place on the staircase that led to Mia's room. Again, this would have been in full view of anyone who entered the living room, assuming Woody managed to walk off with Dylan in the first place.) The narrative had to be changed since the only place for anyone to commit an act of depravity in private would have been in a small crawl space off my mother's upstairs bedroom. By default, the attic became the scene of the alleged assault.
In her widely-circulated 2014 open letter in The New York Times, the adult Dylan suddenly seemed to remember every moment of the alleged assault, writing, "He told me to lay on my stomach and play with my brother's electric train set. Then he sexually assaulted me. He talked to me while he did it, whispering that I was a good girl, that this was our secret, promising that we'd go to Paris and I'd be a star in his movies. I remember staring at that toy train, focusing on it as it traveled in its circle around the attic. To this day, I find it difficult to look at toy trains."
It's a precise and compelling narrative, but there's a major problem: there was no electric train set in that attic. There was, in fact, no way for kids to play up there, even if we had wanted to. It was an unfinished crawl space, under a steeply-angled gabled roof, with exposed nails and floorboards, billows of fiberglass insulation, filled with mousetraps and droppings and stinking of mothballs, and crammed with trunks full of hand-me-down clothes and my mother's old wardrobes.
The idea that the space could possibly have accommodated a functioning electric train set, circling around the attic, is ridiculous. One of my brothers did have an elaborate model train set, but it was set up in the boys' room, a converted garage on the first floor. (Maybe that was the train set my sister thinks she remembers?) Now, whenever I hear Dylan making a public statement about what allegedly happened to her that day when she was barely seven, I can only think of that imaginary train set, which she never brought up during the original investigation or custody hearing. Did somebody suggest to the adult Dylan that such a specific detail would make her story more credible? Or does she really believe she remembers this train "circling around the attic" the same way she says she remembers Woody's whispered promises of trips to Paris and movie stardom (kind of odd enticements to offer a 7-year-old, rather than a new toy or a doll)? And all this apparently took place while those of us who promised to have our eyes trained on Woody were downstairs, seemingly oblivious to what was happening right above our heads?
Eventually, my mother returned with Casey and her newest adoptees, Tam and baby Isaiah. There were no complaints by the nannies, and nothing odd about Dylan's behavior. In fact, Woody and Mia went out to dinner that night. After dinner, they returned to Frog Hollow and Woody stayed over in a downstairs bedroom – with, apparently, no abnormal behavior by Dylan, and no negative reports from any of the grown-ups."
Moses' own theory based on what he witnessed is that Mia coached young Dylan until she didn't know what was true anymore -- a truly disturbing claim.
He also responds to the public perception that Woody has "gotten a pass" all these years, pointing out there was indeed a lengthy investigation -- one which cleared his father and fit his memory of his mother:
"At the time, of course, I knew nothing about the six-month criminal investigation conducted by the Child Sexual Abuse Clinic of the Yale/New Haven Hospital, ordered by the Connecticut state police. But since this allegation was renewed a few years ago, I've seen the results of that investigation. It specifically concluded that "Dylan was not abused by Mr. Allen," that her statements had a "rehearsed quality" and that they were "likely coached or influenced by her mother." Those conclusions perfectly match my own childhood experience: coaching, influencing, and rehearsing are three words that sum up exactly how my mother tried to raise us. I know that Dylan has recently referred to this brainwashing theory as "spin" by our father – but it was nothing of the sort. It was not only the conclusion reached by a state-ordered investigation, it was the reality of life in our household."
You can read Moses' full account HERE.
People reached out to Dylan for her response to her brother's side. In a statement, she calls it "an attempt to deflect from a credible allegation made by an adult woman, by trying to impugn my mother who has only ever been supportive of me and my siblings."
She says:
"It's easily disproven, contradicts years of his own statements, is beyond hurtful to me personally, and is part of a larger effort to discredit and distract from my assault," she continued. "My brother is a troubled person. I'm so sorry he's doing this."
Is Moses at all credible here? His story is so different from Dylan's! Could Mia Farrow really be guilty of abuse??
Let us know what you think in the comments (below)!
[Image via Dennis Van Tine/Future Image/Ivan Nikolov/WENN.]
0 notes
general-bear · 7 years
Note
Talk about A L L O F T H E M
Okay buckle in kiddos it is now time for me to Overshare. Someone else asked for all evens so here are all the odds. Keeps it shorter anyway. Sorry this took me so long!1: Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie. // The first time I watched Master and Commander, I was too young to actually understand what was happening. I remember getting really upset during some of the sadder scenes, and getting really grossed out by some of the gorey bits. The first time I watched it and actually understood it, I thought it was amazing, and I stood up during the last scene with my mouth open in amazement. There's not anything super awesome about the last scene but for some reason I just love it so much. 3: Talk about the person you've had the most intense romantic feelings for. // Um.... okay. So... we had known each other since first grade, but we didn't really become friends until fourth or fifth grade. I didn't have many friends at the time, so it was kind of a big deal that someone actually wanted to be my friend. We were best friends for a long time, and then we dated for two years in high school. He was--is-- incredibly intelligent, and is really good at science and math. And he's funny, too. He has a sense of humor that swings between morbid, sly, and just plain goofy. He's a complete dork, too, and while it was hard to get him excited about something, when he started talking about something that was genuinely interesting to him, he just lit up. He's also a brilliant writer, though he's not fully convinced of that. I still worry about him, though I know he can take care of himself. Anyway, so far, he's been the only one I've really had romantic feelings for. Currently, I don't really have intense romantic feeling for anyone.5: Talk about the best birthday you've had. // I've had a lot of really good birthdays, but my favorite ones were when I went to Water World with some of my friends. I have a lot of good memories attached to that water park. 7: Talk about your biggest insecurity. // I'm insecure about a lot of things. My weight, my voice, my height, my intelligence, my leadership skills, my mental illness. The list goes on. And on. And on. 9: Talk about little things on your body that you like the most. // I love the little half curls in my hair, and the way that it has at least three different kinds of brown in it. And I like the way my eyes turn the color of honey in the sun. 11: Talk about the best dream you've ever had. // Okay so it's been ten years and I still remember it vividly. I was a dragon, slinking over the rooftops in the dead of night. I saw a group of humans and hid in the shadows to overhear their plot to storm my clan's cave and kill all the dragons. They were whispering about a secret weapon. I raced back home and told our elders everything. But I was too late. The humans were upon us. Cue epic battle with shapeshifting from human to dragon, walls of green fire, and a powder that made the humans invincible to the heat of the dragon fire. It was so cool and I loved it. 13: Talk about the first time you had sex/how you imagine your first time. // I'm not really planning on the whole sex thing. So unless something drastically changes, my first time will be never.15: Talk about the time you were most content in life. // When I was training to be a counselor, I would get a hour break every day, and I would go down to my cabin and sit on the steps and read. It was warm, with a cool breeze that made the leaves of the trees sound like ocean waves. The only other sound was birds chirping and the turning of pages in my book. Whenever I was there, I felt totally at peace. 17: Talk about someone you want to be friends with. // I really want to be friends with my new roommate. Her name is Talia and she seems pretty cool, and I just really hope we become good friends.19: Talk about something that happened in middle school. // When I was in seventh grade, my sister and I had to take the public bus to the library a few blocks away to wait for our mom to be done with work. One day, I had the bright idea to race the bus. I left my sister at the stop and started running. I ran two miles, and got to the stop minutes before the bus. I was so proud, and got ready to brag to my sister about it. The doors opened, an old man got off, and the bus drove away. My sister was gone. I freaked out and called my mom, who called my grandma, and the search began. We finally found her wandering around by the library. Turns out she had drifted away from the stop and the bus missed her. Her phone dead, she decided just to walk to the library. I yelled at her for being so stupid but I was super glad she was okay. 21: Talk about a time you had to turn someone down. // When I was a kid, there was this little girl who lived down the street who always wanted to hang out. And every time I told her no at the door, she magically slipped inside and wouldn't leave. She was like a little, adorable demon.23: Talk about a time someone turned you down. // There was this dance thing at my summer camp, and for some reason most of the kids were asking out people to that activity. There was a kind of cute boy who I had talked to a lot, so after a lot of convincing from my cabin mates, I shyly approached him and asked him to the dance. He said no, and I hid under a bridge crying until dinner. 25: Talk about an ex-best friend. // Bella and I were really close friends in middle school, and we were always hanging out together and going on adventures. We caught crawdads in the river by her house, rode our bikes through the park, made stupid sing-along videos in her living room, went geocaching, and broke cattails by the creek. One time she brought a slug to class and showed it to our teacher and she almost fainted. It was awesome. Another time we were doing some dumb shit in the locker rooms during lunch, jumping from locker to locker and hiding inside them, and the gym teacher caught us. I stayed cool and lied through a sweet, innocent grin about how we were just trying to find a lost phone. It actually worked. It kind of fell apart when we went to an amusement park for a field trip thing. I couldn't afford a fast pass, and she could, and she just left me and ran to join another group. I was so upset. 27: Talk about your favorite part of someone else's body. // I love my mom's hair. It's so beautiful. It's black and curly, with a streak of silver cutting through it. 29: Talk about what turns you on. // Beautifully choreographed fight scenes accompanied by classical music or dubstep. 31: Talk about what you think death is like. // Death is something that scares me because no one really knows what it's like. It could be just straight up nothing. I hope it's not. I hope that.... I hope there is a heaven. And I hope that it isn't boring. I don't think I could describe heaven. It's too great for the imagination. 33: Talk about what you do when you are sad. // I usually eat a lot of snacks while curled up in a nest of blankets and listen to depressing music and/or movie soundtracks. Or I watch cartoons. 35: Talk about things you wish you could stop doing. // Being passive aggressive, for one. I do it a lot, especially when I'm upset but don't want to admit it. But it's a shitty thing to do. I also wish I could stop chewing my lip because it really hurts and it's a bad habit I need to break but can't. 37: Talk about someone you thought you were in love with. // I thought I was in love with this boy back in sixth grade, but it turns out it was just a crush I developed because I figured I needed to have one and he was good at track. Anyway the moral of the story is sixth graders don't know what being in love is and honestly I still don't think I've quite figured it out. 39: Talk about things you wish you'd known earlier. // One. Don't get angry with people just to be dramatic, because it just ends up hurting everyone and it doesn't make you feel any better. Two. You're not better than other people just because you've read a book or two. Three. People fall out of love far more quickly that they fall in love. Four. Don't be afraid to be a little weird. Everyone is weird, and life is to short to pretend otherwise. Five. Don't get too emotionally invested in people who won't do the same for you.
0 notes
Text
Letters to Chris. May 5th. Day 27
Hey Buddy,
I survived my first week back in my “normal” life. It was a long, difficult week and I’m glad it’s over. I did okay for the most part. I only cried at work once. My poor boss. I felt it coming on and didn’t want to leave the front desk unattended, so instead of running to the bathroom I ran to his office and told him I needed a minute. Poor dude wasn’t quite sure what to do. He told me to take all the time I needed, said he’d get me some water if we had any, ran out and sent my sweet coworker in to console me. I’m sure as a man nothing is worse than getting cornered in a tiny office by a sobbing woman. But I’m doing the best I can. And while I did get in a bit of trouble because I was late two days, I actually was pretty productive. I was able to laugh, to joke around with patients and get shit done. I’m honestly amazed. And I had very few ditzy moments. My brain isn’t working like it should so I figured I’d be in a nonstop fog. I always joke about being in a constant state of confusion (you know this…you’ve been known to tease me about it), so I’m relieved it hasn’t gotten worse (or maybe I’m in denial and people are too nice to point it out). I’m beyond thankful for my coworkers. They have been rocks through it all. One of them had a close friend who committed suicide a few years back, so she’s been here. And one of our patients just lost her sister so we shared about you two. The similarities were odd. Her sister was 25 as well, and passed only four days before you. It felt good to talk to someone else who has just lost a sibling. I would never wish this suffering on my worst enemy, but a huge part of me is so grateful that I’m not alone. 
Nights are the hardest now. I think because I try to keep my shit together during the entire day, I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted by the time I get home. And I miss you so much while at work. I’ve been used to spending all day with you in my thoughts, and obviously I just can’t do that while working. So during lunch break I’ll look at your pictures, or talk to you when we have quiet moments (in my head..I can’t let people think I’m losing it by talking to myself). Surprisingly, yesterday was my best day yet. I still cried, but it wasn’t until I went to bed. I had to get up and go to the kitchen so I wouldn’t wake Clay (not that he would have cared, but I haven’t been the most awesome bed buddy lately and didn’t want to keep him awake another night. He’s been so tired all week). I honestly wasn’t sure how I felt about not crying until so late. I felt guilty, like I was a bad sister for holding it together so well. It wasn’t that it hurt any less. I guess maybe I’m starting to get used to this constant ache..feeling this hole in my chest. It’s not like it goes away. No matter what I’m doing, even when I’m joking around and laughing, it’s still there lurking. Almost like it’s waiting to pounce. I read somewhere how at first the waves that hit you are 100 feet tall and back to back while you cling to this wreckage that was once a beautiful ship. Over time, the waves, while still 100 feet tall, become more spaced apart. And in those spaces is life. I think maybe that’s where I am right now. I’m still clinging to this wreckage like my life depends on it. I’m still fighting the urge to allow myself to drown whenever the waves hit. But in between, I can laugh. I can look at your pictures and not cry. I can almost see my old self coming out. I think this is the way the rest of my life will be. I’ll be okay one minute, but something will be a trigger and I’ll lose it. Something as simple as smelling your cologne somewhere, or someone talking about the National Guard or firefighting. Right now it’s anything. Or nothing. I’ll just be standing there not doing anything and it will hit.
The night before last, I went through all your pictures you uploaded on Facebook, taking screenshots of them so they are all on my phone. I had no idea you had a goatee at one point in time. I wish I had…I would have given you so much grief :) Like, dude, what’s that on your chin?? I love the facial hair you had the last few months. I’d never really seen you with any. I remember when you were 14-15 and you had that patchy scruff you were so proud to shave (must be a right of passage as a young man). I couldn’t believe you were having to shave. But now you have a full fledged beard. Or did. You know what I mean. But it suited you. 
My handsome boy.
Something new I’m noticing is my anger. Not just at you, but at anyone who irritates me. I noticed it a bit in Missouri, but it’s gotten worse. I raised my voice at an employee at Costco today when asking if they were out of coconut milk. He didn’t believe me when I said they usually carried it, saying he had never seen it and he always stocked the dairy aisle. I tried to explain it isn’t ever with the dairy and I literally buy it every week, but he kept trying to run away before I could explain. Finally I just snapped and yelled that he was acting like I was crazy but I knew what I was talking about. Something like that wouldn’t have bothered me to that extent a month ago. People around probably thought I was simply super passionate about coconut milk. It’s not like you can explain to everyone why you’re having a minor meltdown. The guy WAS being a dick, but I should have let it go. I just feel like the general public sucks right now. People are so self involved, worrying about all their petty little problems. I desperately want to yell at everyone, “Oh yeah? Your mother-in-law is visiting? You have to work late? You’re worried about bills? Boohoo. My brother just killed himself. Go f*ck yourself.“ 
Obviously this isn’t the best attitude to have. But it’s so hard not to resent people at the moment. And I know that everyone’s issues are valid. And I know that anger is normal right now. But this isn’t me in the slightest, and I hate feeling this way. So one of my goals tonight is to find a therapist who specializes in bereavement counseling. Before I make an even bigger scene over another unstocked grocery item. Or Clay locks me out of our apartment.
It’s also difficult to not get irritated with people who have things going awesome for them. I’m not talking about friends or family. I mean strangers. For whatever reason, strangers seem the safest people to hate right now. So I’ll overhear someone talking about their awesome vacation they just got back from (”OMG Paris was AMAZING!!) or how they are buying a new house, and I want to throw things at their face. And I hate that. Because, like I said, this is so not me. Clay reminded me that I have no idea what’s going on in people’s lives. Maybe they are going through the same thing as our family. He stepped on dangerous territory by asking if he just shouldn’t point out when I am being negative. Yeah, probably not. Definitely not the wisest thing at the moment. I know I can be an a**hole right now. I’m working on it. It’s a stage of grief and I know I need to get through it. I don’t want to be a ball of fury for the rest of my life.
Speaking of anger, after Costco I went out to my car and another wave hit, and I started yelling at you. I haven’t done that yet. Not like that. Anyone who walked by my car would have thought I was crazy. But it felt so good to yell at you. Because it’s you that I’m really angry at. I screamed at you for leaving us, that we f*cking told you things would get better, and that I’m absolutely devastated that you didn’t text me goodbye. Yes, I’m still stuck on that. I was always the one you listened to. Mom would ask me to talk to you about things because you actually listened to me. We always had that relationship our whole lives. But you didn’t tell me goodbye. I’m grateful you texted Mom, but why not your sisters?? I just can’t let that go. My phone had been right in front of me that night. Perhaps me begging you to live wouldn’t have changed anything. I know any therapist would say it wouldn’t have made a difference. But at least I could have told you how much I loved you. You would have died knowing I needed you and loved you and would have taken your place in a second. I would have told you I’d be flying out to see you that very night. Or beg you to come stay with us for a while. I would have told you that my life would be meaningless without you and that if you died I would die, too. That our family would be devastated, left picking up the pieces and never able to get closure. But you denied me that. So I’m angry. More than that. I’m p*ssed. And I hate how much our family hurts. Mom called a couple days ago and I could tell she'd been crying. She said she washed the rest of your laundry which took all day. And she cried and cried. Nikea has had a few difficult days this week. And while Dad is more the suffer in silence type, I know this is hell for him, too. We all know you never meant to hurt us, but it doesn't make it any easier. 
Yet I know you understand my anger, and love me regardless. You knew I needed to scream at you. And honestly, I’ll probably do it again. I apologized because I hate yelling at you, even though you probably deserve it right now. But I have this feeling you understand everything way better than any of us can on this side of Heaven. You’re way wiser than we are. You understand how we feel. You know what you put us through. I can’t explain how weird it is to realize you now know things that we cannot begin to comprehend. Nikea has always been the smartest of us four kids, but now you’re the wisest. If you were here now, I’m sure you’d gloat about how you know all the secrets of the universe.
Know what I miss most? Family dinners. Dad always making weird Dad jokes that still made us laugh, Bethany enjoying her food so much she’d look like she was falling asleep or in a trance. I know some kids don’t like being forced to eat dinner with their parents, but I’ve always loved it. It gave us a chance to connect, without our cell phones (which you were always on..ahem)…like really connect as a family. Then we’d always help clean the table afterwards while Dad rinsed the dishes. God I miss that. I always meant to record those conversations because you never quite knew what anyone was going to say. Nikea was saying how you teased her during dinner last time you were home because she was drinking Pepsi. Since you worked for Coke, you pretended it was a great betrayal. 
God, I’d give anything to have been at that table.
I’m so frustrated because I still can’t pull any specific memories from recent years. I understand this is caused by grief. You know I’m the one who remembers the most random stuff, so it’s beyond heartbreaking that I can’t get my brain to work. It’s like this stupid mental block that just refuses to lift. It’s funny how you don’t realize how you’re going to react to grief until it hits. I know it’ll pass and the memories will come flooding back…I just wish I knew when.
Of course I remember things from years ago. Your first car, a Ford Taurus that you loved to work on. The muffler was nonexistent so we always knew when you were pulling up to the house. You were so proud to show me the alterations you made in that car. And remember when you hit that curb and jacked it up? I felt so awful for you. Then I remember when you were super little and grabbed one of my many "Titanic” books and threw it at me laughing. You ripped Leo’s face in half and I yelled at you and made you cry (I’m sorry). I remember how you’d always eat Mom and Dad out of house and home but never gain any weight. I remember road trips to Grandma and Grandpa’s, yearly visits to TanTarA. Key West. I’m still not recalling as many memories as I normally would, but like I said, I know this will pass. I just don’t want the strongest memories to be of your last few months when you were so distraught. I still go back and read your texts, even though they break my heart, just because they are you. And Katrina sent me some voicemails you had left her. I wasn’t sure if I could bear to listen to them, but I was able to. I miss your voice so much, so it helps to hear it even if your words weren’t directed at me.
I took the dogs on a walk tonight. I was grateful for the weather. It was beautiful out. The sun was setting behind the mountains which were all these different shades of deep blue. I was walking on this path I hadn’t known existed before near our apartment. This field of white cattails caught the sun, glowing bright white. I stopped on this old bridge and watched the sun set. It looked like Heaven. Your Heaven. I know you loved the mountains (you were so excited to see them in Montana and when you visited Colorado a couple years back), so I feel so close to you when I look at them. I felt your presence. It was so strong I felt like I could touch you. I’ve felt it before, but it has been getting stronger the brief seconds I’m able to experience it. I’ve read of people experiencing the same thing with departed loved ones, and it’s so encouraging. Like I’ve said before, those brief moments when you reach out get me through.
Anywho, Buddy…I love you and miss you. Clay grilled some steaks for us (hey remember how you cooked me steak that one day when Carter was brand new? It was DELICIOUS. First time I’d ever had your cooking and I was so proud), so I better get going. He’s been waiting patiently for me. But again, I LOVE you and I MISS you so damn much. Talk to you soon.
Your big sis.
0 notes